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oblivious-embodied · 3 years

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A Miraculous Journey of Self Discovery

Miraculous Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir: Rewritten, Trans AU.

A long time ago, I decided to make my own rewrite of the Miraculous Ladybug show, do it in my own way so that things could progress the way I would like, for characters to grow and develop in personality and strength. Write my own way for the miraculous to be empowered, to be a bigger deal, to mean more than what they mean in the show. And, along the way, I saw @wintertundra-art's Trans Adrien and Marinette AU, and I wanted to see if I could incorporate that into this rewrite. And, with her permission and cooperation, I was able to get the first chapter, Origins: Part One completed! I'm excited to see where this goes from here!

So, as a christmas gift to you all, Enjoy a miraculous rewrite, and trans representation! If you haven't already, go check out @wintertundra-art and her wonderful AU! And, if you have any questions, feel free to send me an ask too.

I’ve decided to rate it as Teen and Up Audiences, and you can read it here on AO3! It currently sits at 12,265 words

Origins: Part One

(Summary: Eons ago, powerful artifacts were forged, infused with power that humans can only dream of, they were made to be anchors to beings of immense power. Centuries ago, two of the more powerful miraculous were lost, the Butterfly of Emotion and the Peacock of Soul. Now, the Butterfly has been awoken, and is in the hands of someone who want's to corrupt the Butterfly's power and use it for their own nefarious wants. The only way to stop this from happening is to bring balance, and only the most powerful Miraculous can do so: The Black Cat of Destruction, and the Ladybug of Creation. )

A man opens up a broach, revealing the smiling image of a blonde haired, green eyed woman. His breath hitches just a bit as he locks eyes with her image. With slightly shaking hands, he closes the broach and he looks to a floating, violet creature with big, purple eyes, and a swirl on its head that is the same shade as its eyes. Little butterfly wings extend from its back.

“Nooroo,” his tone is sharp, cold, calculating. Terrifying. “Tell me where to find the other Miraculous.”

“I-I do not know...” the being named Nooroo answers, bowing its head slightly.

The man narrows his eyes.

Several thousand years ago, possibly eons ago, powerful pieces of magical jewelry were forged, each serving as an anchor to beings of extreme power. Beings that are the embodiment of concepts that the minds of simple humans can’t even begin to comprehend, concepts like The Four Elements, The Mind, The Heart, The Soul, The Body, Energy, and even of Destruction and Creation itself.

These jewels were named ‘Miraculous’. They can’t be destroyed; whether that is due to the material they are made from, or the bonds they have with the beings, known as kwami, no one knows.

These Miraculous were created for the sole purpose of aiding the human race. And with their use, myths and legends of large, humanoid creatures, capable of unfathomable feats of strength and power arose.

And according to legend, whoever holds both of the two most powerful Miraculous, the anchors to the beings of Destruction and Creation, Death and Life, will be as powerful as a god.

And with that power, the ability to do whatever they want.

And he must have these Miraculous. He must have the power to become God.

His life, his happiness, all he’s worked for, all he’s done, the fate of his family, it all depends on him getting those Miraculous.

“Very well.” He says finally, but he turns his cold gaze to the poor being. “Tell me, Nooroo, what are the properties of your Miraculous.”

The being named Nooroo looks up at this man, its eyes weary. “That is the Miraculous of the Butterfly. It derives its power from the heart; it will allow you to sense the emotions of anyone around you in a certain radius, and through this you will be able to give others powers and abilities. These people will then become your devoted followers, your champions.” Nooroo straightens back up, puffing out its little chest.

A sickening smile creeps its way across the man’s face. “You are saying, Nooroo, that I can give supernatural powers to the ordinary; and they will, in turn, do anything I tell them to do.” It isn’t a question. It’s a statement. His mind is already circulating with different situations. At this, Nooroo deflates a bit, drooping.

“W-well, no, not really. You can give powers to someone you deem fit, but you can’t really control them. They’ll just be able to communicate with you, and vice versa, and you will be able to help them along the way.”

The smile does not leave the man’s face, “You said your powers are derived from the heart, yes?” Nooroo nods, it’s eyes widening. “I may not be able to control them directly... but I can to some degree.”

At this, Nooroo’s eyes fly open, his mouth dropping open. “Th-that’s-that’s not what the butterfly is intended-“

“I will do what I want!” The man cuts in, his tone forceful, he emphasizes his words with a stomp to the ground. “I am your master. You will do what I say, and you will not disobey me.” Nooroo’s eyes blow wide again, and it opens its mouth to say something, but nothing comes out of its mouth. It is unable to say anything. In it’s eyes, terror is clear. Dejectedly, Nooroo bows it’s head and body. “Yes, Master.”

This brings the man even more sickening joy.

“Nooroo, we will find those Miraculous.” Then man takes a step forward and lifts Nooroo’s chin up. “And we will do it by any means necessary.”

He takes a step back and fastens the broach to his shirt.

“Nooroo, dark wings, rise.”

Nooroo is sucked into the broach and violet light rushes up the man’s body, transforming his clothes. When the light dies down, the man is wearing black, skin tight, laceless dress shoes. Purple, almost skintight pants. He’s wearing a purple suit jacket and black latex-like gloves. The collar folds up at the front like a paper airplane, the broach sitting in the middle, two black, shimmering, almost rubber like lapels that start just below the paper airplane collar, form around it and go up to protrude from off the shoulders about 25 centimeters. His neck and face, save for the area around his mouth, is covered by a silver material. His eyes are violet.

“From now on...” he looks at the big metal, circular window cover, his violet eyes glistening with malice. “I will be known as Hawkmoth!”

--------

Sleeping in the brass horn of the fake record player that houses the miracle box is a small green creature, with a head much larger than the rest of his body, who looks like a miniature turtle. His body is a light-ish green, with patches of darker green. His head has some subtle scales, but is mostly smooth. Its abdomen, and the back of his arms and legs are covered in dark green scales. A turtle shell rests on his back.

Something startles Wayzz from his peaceful sleep in the fake record player’s bell, his eyes shooting open and revealing that they are completely yellow with dark green pupils. Something pulsates through the air, a powerful, corruptive wave of energy with a hint of something else behind it.

It’s... an old, familiar energy. It pulsates through the air again before dissipating slightly, then pulsating again. Like a heartbeat.

One that doesn’t bode well.

This energy... it’s from Nooroo... but... it’s tainted. It might just be from time apart, that could be why his energy feels... wrong.

Malicious. Cold.

Unwelcome...

But... it could also be something else... something far more terrible than someone accidentally picking up and activating It’s Miraculous.

It’s an energy that accompanies An unwelcome wielder. It’s Nooroo’s distress call.

Wayzz bursts from the fake record player’s bell and into Master Fu’s side, jolting him, stilling his fingers on his patient’s back.

The little old man, wearing a red Hawaiian t-shirt, grey slacks and brown sandals, turns to the little green kwami.

“What is it?” He whispers, his fingers returning to work at the young man’s back.

“Master! I felt an odd energy.”

Master Fu pauses in his work again, furrowing his brows in thought. After another second’s deliberation, he tells Wayzz to hide, then quickly ushers his patient out the door, promising to see him next week.

With the door closed, he turns back to his kwami. “What kind of energy?” His tone is solemn and wary.

“Master, it was Noroo’s. It was Nooroo’s distress call. It’s in trouble!”

The old master’s eyes widen in shock, his mouth hanging open for a second before he sets it into a hard line. “Very well then, Wayzz. We must find him at once!”

Wayzz winces for a split second, human’s have never understood how one can be referred to by pronouns other than he/him, or she/her, and the Master doesn’t seem to catch on to Wayzz calling Nooroo by It’s preferred pronouns. But Wayzz refuses to not use It’s preferred pronouns. He would never do that to his friend.

The old master stands up straight, holding up his right wrist, his other hand bracing it. “Time to transform... Wayzz-“

‘Crack!’

“Augh, oh...” Master Fu groans as he falls to the ground, muted groans escaping his throat.

“Master, please be reasonable! You are-“

“Still young!” Fu cuts in, “ I’m only 186!...” he grunts as he stands back up. “but I can no longer do this alone... we will need help.”

He walks over to the fake record player, and Wayzz looks away as Master Fu puts in the code to open up the record player.

Within seconds, the middle slides open, and a black box with red, ornate, ancient Chinese characters on it is lifted from the cavity in the record player.

Before he opens the box, he looks to Wayzz; the kwami has been with him for most of his life... they’ve been through a lot together. So, Wayzz is certain that they surely think the same thing.

Allowing those Miraculous to be out in the open, even if it is just to recover Nooroo from its captor, it’s incredibly risky. But... Wayzz has a certain feeling about this, it may be a risky move, but it feels like the right one. If they are to recover Nooroo, and if It’s had Its powers abused by a corrupted heart, they will need to cleanse and balance it’s Miraculous; and only those of Creation and Destruction can do so. As Fu takes out those two Miraculous, Wayzz nods his agreement. Hopefully... hopefully this doesn’t go wrong.

-----------

For the next few days, Fu looks for two people who fit the parameters for these two Miraculous. They need to be kind, and selfless... those two traits aren’t too hard to find. But for the Miraculous of Creation, he needs to find someone who has the mind to handle the complexity, the heart to consider the options, the soul to value everyone, the body to meet the physical requirements and the energy to withstand it all.

They need to be of the right age too, for if they are too young, their mind could snap, their heart could burst, their soul could be irreparably damaged, their body could shrivel… just like his did when he was a boy.

Finding someone who meets all these requirements is grueling, but it’s the only way to make sure they don’t face life long detriments.

Fu finds himself in a bakery, looking over everyone he can see as he simultaneously looks for what pastry to get for himself. The people he finds don’t fit what this Miraculous needs, and he gets no reaction from the box containing the being who embodies Creation itself. He is about to give up on his search for a suitable wielder for Tikki when a feeling of warmth pulsates through his body, emanating from the box Tikki’s Miraculous resides in.

He looks up, and is greeted with the sight of the baker’s daughter, a young girl with black hair, Asian features, and beautiful grey eyes. She talks animatedly with the customers, smiling so brightly and with such warmth in her eyes, she makes it seem like she makes friends with everyone she meets.

But she’s too young, she doesn’t look to be more that 14 years old, he will not put the stress of being the wielder of Creation on a child. His body was crippled when he wore his Miraculous when he was too young, and his Miraculous is substantially less powerful than Creation. He will not the the reason for the death of a child.

He moves on.

But Tikki is insistent, if the way the box burns in his pocket is any indication.

Reluctantly, he turns to his kwami companion, Wayzz, and nods to him, making a mental note to have Wayzz watch this girl. He can only hope that he finds someone better suited for Creation.

When out of the bakery, Wayzz whispers in his ear, “Are you sure giving a Miraculous — especially one of such magnitude — to a child is a good idea?”

Fu pulls out and bites into a pastry, his facial features dark. “I do not know, my friend. I refuse to give a Miraculous to someone so young, especially one that is so powerful. However, Tikki is insisting on this girl. I hope to find someone who is suited for Tikki, and is older, but we must be prepared for the event that we have to give this girl this responsibility.”

Wayzz sighs, “Alright, Master.”

--------------

The next day, Fu makes his way to the bakery — those pastries are to die for! — but he’s in a sour mood. He hasn’t been able to get Tikki to react to any other person, she is insistent on this bakery girl. He’s keeping an eye out for someone else, but he’s starting to believe he has no other choice.

Just as he rounds the corner, the box that houses the Black Cat Miraculous of Destruction sends a chilling wave of energy through Fu’s body, and he stops in his tracks. Plagg has sensed someone he wants to choose. Fu starts looking around, going through all the parameters the wielder of Destruction needs to have: They need to have a mind strong enough to resist temptation, a heart kind enough to give mercy to those around them, a soul to see the good and bad, a body to withstand the effects the Miraculous of Destruction has on wielders, and the ability to rein in Plagg’s energy.

Everyone he looks at is wrong, and they incite no reaction from Plagg, but then he sees a young man with blond hair, green eyes, and fair skin in the park. He’s sitting on a bench, looking crestfallen. To his right, cameras and photographers are setting up around him. There are other children playing at the park, and the young man is staring at them with a longing gaze.

The hope in Fu’s eyes dies down as he realizes that Plagg’s chosen is one that is, once again, too young,

He doesn’t want this, he doesn’t want to put them through this, but if Tikki won’t change her mind, Plagg most definitely wont.

Resigned, Fu turns around and starts going to the bakery, making a note to look into this boy. He looks up and finds himself looking at a poster advertisement for Agreste Fashion, and the boy he was just looking at is on it.

It seems finding information on this boy will not be as hard as he thought.

-------------

As he continues to watch the bakery girl, he sees just how kind and selfless she is. She routinely offers help in the bakery as often as she can. She lights up talking to customers about fashion — apparently, she’s quite fond of fashion, especially the Agreste brand, how fascinating — how she lifts full bags of flour with only a few grunts and wobbles here and there. Fu’s found that she created the design for the bakery sign. As well as the menu board. She is truly creative. And, if his hearing does not fail him, she even bakes some of the pastries from time to time.

Tikki grows more and more insistent on choosing this girl, and Fu has resigned himself to the fact that he will be putting them through things he never wished to put anyone through again. If he is going to give her the Miraculous of Creation, he must be there to mentor her. He must be able to guide her through all of this. Hopefully she can handle this and he isn’t sending her to her death.

Now... the young man, the child model... he wasn’t quite sure at first, and he was getting ready to have a long argument with Plagg. He just seemed to be a boy longing for the time to play with others. But, as he continued to pursue knowledge about this boy -- his name being Adrien -- he’s found that he is praised for his kindness, and he’s seen that in video recordings of interviews with the boy. Wayzz has told him that when he has photoshoots at the park, when he sees kids fall down, he twitches almost imperceptibly. As though he wants to go over and pick them up. And when he watches parents with their difficult kids, he seems to want nothing more than to help.

Fu has seen the way he smiles at his bodyguard, at his scheduler, the photographers, the other models, it seems to be completely genuine.

He harbors a heart that wants to do good, that wants to do nothing but help, his soul longs for the freedom to be selfless, but it is unable to. And Plagg has latched onto this boy.

He must be able to guide these two young people. He must not allow them to go through this alone.

Late at night in his apartment, Fu sits before two small pieces of paper on his kitchen table, writing two identical notes to put in the boxes containing the Black Cat Miraculous and the Ladybug Miraculous.

They are to meet him at the base of the Effiel Tower at 22:00, but in order for this to work, he must give them the miraculous at the same time, which means he must execute his challenges before it is too late.

Suddenly, Wayzz flies up to his face and bows before speaking. “Master! I just sensed Nooroo transform Its captor! It was powerful, whoever has Nooroo is powerful.”

Fu stops writing and strokes his goatee. If he remembers correctly, the first day of the French school year is in three, almost two days. This means that he doesn’t have much time to issue his challenges to these kids, and even less time to train them. He must act now. “Thank you, Wayzz, we must act soon, before it is too late!”

Fu finishes writing the notes and places them on top of the boxes containing the Miraculous of Destruction and Creation, before he goes to bed.

The next day, Fu makes his way to the bakery. He doesn’t know how to issue his challenge, but it will come to mind eventually. It is the day before the first day of school, and there will be no lack of heightened emotions, and paired with the power that Nooroo has over emotions, who knows when Nooroo’s captor will strike?

Suddenly, Adrien bursts through the bushes, sprinting his way to the school. He has a pleased smile on his face, and hope in his eyes. He reaches the school, and stops, looking up at it, sighing in admiration.

A car passes by, Adrien whips around, looking at the car, but finds that it is not something he needs to worry about. He relaxes and starts to open the door to the school when three kids burst from the nearby park and speed their way on bikes across the street toward a nearby intersection. He looks at these kids, furrowing his brows.

Then, a rumbling sounds, Adrien whips around to look, and there is a car coming down their way. And, by the looks of things, the car isn’t slowing down, and neither are the kids.

Fu waits in silence as Adrien seems more confused than ever, looking between the car and the kids, taking a few steps from the school toward the intersection. When it is evident that neither the kids nor the car will stop on their own, he takes action, rushing forward and waving his arms.

Two of the kids look at him, then at the car coming down the road, and as though it is their first time seeing it, they skid to a stop. But the kid in the middle, a girl with pink hair keeps going, her head turned toward the two kids who stopped, hair whipping around under her helmet. She seems to glare at them and then at the oncoming car.

Adrien seems to sigh, looking frantically between the rapidly approaching kid and car.

He looks back to the pink haired girl, and sets his jaw. Clearly set on a course of action. He takes a few long steps toward the street just as she comes by and grabs her arm, forcing her to fall from her bike, but the bike continues onward into the street.

Where it promptly gets crushed by the car, while the driver looks up from their phone and honks as they drive away.

As the pink haired girl sits there shocked, Adrien stands there awkwardly. But, after a second, the girl stands up and punches Adrien’s arm before seemingly telling him off. All Adrien does is furrow his brows, confused.

Fu walks away with a small smile.

He has a feeling this might actually work out well.

--------------

An alarm jerks Marinette awake from her dreamless sleep. With a groan, she blindly gropes around her bed to find her phone, but when she finds it, she only manages to push it from her bed down onto the floor.

The alarm doesn’t stop, and Marinette can’t decide if she should be relieved, or annoyed.

With a resigned sigh, she slips from her bed, mourning the lost warmth of her covers, and climbs down her ladder. She picks up her phone and inspects it for cracks.

Somehow, for some reason, it doesn’t have any. Thank the beings that rule the universe, her phone is indestructible! She doesn’t know how many times she’s dropped her phone, but it doesn’t even have a scratch!

Sluggishly, she goes to her closet, trying to decide on what to wear, looking over everything and battling that feeling of unease she feels every time she looks in her closest; but ultimately decides to put it aside, she’ll just eat breakfast in her pajamas.

She doesn’t even want to look at her messy, black hair, her body, the bags that are surely to be under her eyes. She’s always loved her eyes, her Maman is from China and has grey eyes, while her Papa grew up locally in Paris with blue eyes; but her eyes are amazing, they’re grey with a ring of blue around the pupil. She can’t help but think of her parents when she looks into her eyes. She doesn’t have as much Asian features as she would like, but she has her eyes, her black hair, and a slight Asian facial bone structure.

Rubbing sleep from her eyes she starts going downstairs, not really wanting to face the day. Not wanting to fight to feel good.

It’s the first day of school. The first day of Collége. And, for some reason, Marinette has a strong feeling that Chloé Bourgeois is in her class again.

One would think that the spoiled brat that is the daughter of the Mayor would be in private school. But, for some reason unknown to all but the two Bourgeois and the beings that rule the universe, she still attends public school; despite all of her complaining. And the bullying.

She really, really does not want school to start.

With a big yawn, she opens the trap door.

“Marinette! School starts soon! You don’t want to be late for your first day back at school!”

Wincing from the early morning yelling, Marinette suppresses another yawn, calling out a small “Coming...” before climbing down the stairs.

When she reaches the bottom, she finds her Maman smiling at her from the kitchen. She smiles back, already feeling the grasp of sleep start to slip away. “There’s my beautiful girl!”

Despite the warmth that fills her being when around her Maman, Marinette can’t help but feel uneasy with being called beautiful. It’s probably because of Chloe bullying her, she’ll get over it.

She gives her maman a kiss on the cheek, leaning down just a bit. When she was younger, she wondered why she was taller than her maman. But, after an awkward talk with her parents, she’s realized that she just inherited the taller genes from her Papa, but got the skinnier genes from her Maman.

“Good morning!”

“Yeah...” she grumps, “I’ll bet you anything that Chloé is in my class again...” she sighs as she sits down at the kitchen table, where her Maman has already set out a cereal bowl, a milk jug, spoon, her favorite cereal, and a bowl of fruit. Uncapping the milk jug, she pours it into the bowl.

“Four years in a row?! Is that possible?” Her Maman exclaims, putting something in the sink behind her.

“Definitely... Lucky me!” Marinette rolls her eyes, pouring in some chocolate cereal flakes.

“Oh! Don’t say that! It’s the start of a new year, I’m sure everything will be just fine!” Her Maman says resolutely, brushing a hand against her hair. And who can argue with such sound logic? Not Marinette.

Nodding, feeling her spirits rise just a bit, she places the tub of cereal flakes down. But, with just a slight miscalculation of how hard to set it down, a chain reaction of terrible, ill boding events happens.

The vibrations send an orange rolling down a conveniently placed bread stick, right to and over another conveniently placed knife. Which then sends the orange into the milk jug, the knife into a bowl of sugar cubes; sending a few flying with such velocity that as it collides with the cereal tub, it tips it over. And, as her spirits plummet, the orange completes its journey by knocking into and tipping over a yogurt cup. She groans dejectedly, closing her eyes so as to block the situation from sight and in turn, her mind.

For a girl whose parents have always called their “lucky charm”, she sure isn’t all that lucky.

As she cleans up the cereal tub mess, her Maman reaches a hand to her cheek, chuckling. Which, somehow, helps to lift her own spirits.

It’s weird how mothers can do that. “Go get dressed, honey, you’ll look beautiful. I’ve got this.”

An hour later, Marinette is down in the bakery, dressed in her back-to-school-day clothes: tan/pink flats, pink Capris, white shirt with a flower pattern on her left collarbone, grey blazer and her very own, hand sewn, pink clutch. And yet, despite being proud of her work, she can’t find it in her to be proud of how she looks.

Her Papa, humming a tune, presents a box of macarons to his daughter. A warm, gentle smile on his face: “There’s my gorgeous daughter!” There’s that uneasiness again...

“Papa! These are so awesome!” She exclaims, bouncing in place. “Thank you, Papa! My class will love them!” She looks up to him, adoration and love filling her eyes.

“Glad you like them!” He ruffles her hair, chuckling as she smirks a bit under his huge hands, an almost mute “don’t mess up my hair!” coming from her.

“You look beautiful, my darling daughter” Her papa says with small tears in his eyes.

“You’re the best!” she says, giving him a one armed hug, her smile falling as she tries to figure out how to get rid of the uneasy feeling in her gut.

“We,” he pulls her close again with an arm, and angles his other in a ‘muscular, show-off’ manner, “are the best.” Marinette can’t help but giggle.

Giving both her parents goodbye kisses, she rushes out the door, intent on not being late for school on the first day. And, in her haste, almost rushes right into the path of an oncoming car.

Breathing a sigh of relief that she isn’t splattered on the windshield of a car, she slouches a bit, before jolting ramrod straight as she sees an elderly man with a cane in a red hawiian shirt having trouble crossing the road, another car rushing toward the man, not slowing down at all.

Marinette frantically looks back and forth between the two and decides, after a second, to rush out and save this man from meeting the very same fate she had just narrowly avoided moments before.

Just as she pulls him to the sidewalk, her legendary clumsiness takes hold of her once more, and she trips onto the sidewalk, taking the man down with her; the box of macarons spilling. And, with horror, she watches as inconsiderate city people step on them, reducing them to nothing more than crumbs. The man’s “Thank you, miss” goes unheard.

But, his “Oh, what a disaster” does not go unnoticed. Picking up what remains of the box and the macaroons, she tells him: “Don’t worry, I’m no stranger to disasters.” She holds the box to him. “Besides! There’s still a few left.”

She smiles at this man, as he picks a macaron from the box and bites into it. Letting out a pleased “Delicious!”

A bell across the street rings, signaling the start of school. Marinette looks to the school, to this man, back to the school and back to him again. While she’d rather not be late to school... well, she had just pulled this man from the street. The least she can do is walk him partially to where he is headed.

“Go ahead.” The man says, his smile genuine, understanding and proud. ”You’ve saved my life, the least I can do is save you from getting into trouble! Now go!” He waves her off.

She takes a moment of further deliberation before nodding, bowing, and rushing out “have-a-nice-day-sir!” Then she’s off, rushing to school.

----------------

As the young woman runs to the school, Master Fu straightens up, putting his cane behind his back and holding up the box containing the Ladybug Miraculous. The box warms up and spreads warmth all throughout his body, confirming that this young woman is Tikki’s choice to be her wielder.

While he doesn’t want to put this stress on a child, he knows that there is no other solution, no way around this. He just has to be her mentor.

He walks to the bakery, allowing Wayzz to take the box to the girl’s room while he buys pastries for himself and his companion.

-----------------

Just as the custodian is closing the school’s front doors, Marinette slips in, not breaking from her near sprint. Rushing up the stairs, she bursts into the classroom, stumbling to not lose her balance. She’s hunched over, trying to catch her breath.

“Nino,” the teacher calls out. She’s a tall woman with fire red hair, teal eyes, and a white pantsuit. Marinette doesn’t recognize her. The boy in question, Nino, has been in her classes for as long as she can remember. He’s a kind hearted, introverted kid with dark skin. He’s always wearing a red baseball cap and grey and orange headphones.

She looks up and sees that Nino is sitting with his eyes wide behind his glasses from the back of the classroom. “Why don’t you sit in the front this year?” The teacher may have formed it as a question, but it was more of a polite command.

Nino grumbles and stands up, his back and shoulders slouched. As he walks to the front of the classroom, on the side closest to the door, he groans. Before sliding into his position in the front of the classroom, right by the door. He pulls his headphones down and rests his elbows on the desk; his jaw resting on his knuckles with an annoyed look on his face.

Though she’s been in the same class as Nino for years, she doesn’t know much about him, and she’s really regretting that now. Maybe this year will be different?

She takes a moment to deliberate, but ultimately decides to sit on the row behind Nino, in her usual seat. She wants to sit by him but he doesn’t seem to want to talk to anyone.

Shaking her head, still breathing with slight difficulty, she walks to her usual seat, the second row, left side of the classroom, right next to the aisle. Just behind and over Nino’s right shoulder.

Mylène, a timid girl, sits directly across the aisle from where Marinette’s seat is. She’s a shorter girl, with fair skin and long dreadlocks that are blonde at the roots but fade into multiple colors at the ends.

Sitting on the next row up, just to the right of Mylène, is a dark skinned boy with a close cut afro hairstyle brown hair, a green polo and glasses. Max is your go-to kid for anything and everything that has to do with electronics.

Sitting right next to Max is a tan skinned boy, Kim; he’s wearing a red, short sleeved hoodie, and sweat bands on his wrist. His black hair is up in a faux hawk style and he’s lounging back in his chair. He’s the class jock. (He tries to hide it by being a jerk and a goof, but he’s actually a good guy.)

Kim is always next to Max, tells everyone that they’re best friends, and that he needs Max to help with homework, but Marinette knows better. She can see his eyes.

On the back row, sitting behind Max, is a girl named Rose. She’s a quiet girl, with her blonde hair in a pixie cut. She wears all pink and has an incredibly high voice.

Just as Marinette sits down and starts to unpack, a pale hand, with yellow, perfectly manicured nails slams down on the desk before her, startling her. “Marinette,” the almost shill voice starts, “Du-pain-Cheng” it sneers her last name like it's an insult to it personally. (Which, if this is who she think it is, it most likely is an insult to her personally.)

Chloé Bourgeois. The bratty daughter of the mayor. She’s wearing a yellow jacket, white pants, and a large, gold (not actually gold, it’d be too heavy for her skinny, fragile hips to support) plated belt. No wrinkles in sight on her clothes. Her golden locks are pulled into a high hanging ponytail. Blush, eye liner, magenta eyeshadow and pink lipstick on her face. It only serves to make her look that much more bratty.

Her school bully.

Marinette slouches, she knew it would happen. A weary, dejected, “Here we go again...” leaves her lips.

“That’s my seat.” Chloé brings her hand from the desk to her chest.

“But Chloé, this has always been my seat.” Marinette looks up to Chloé, grey-blue meeting dark, cruel blue.

Chloe’s face scrunches up. “Not this year!”

A sudden, but not unfamiliar voice cuts in. “New School, New Year, New seats.” Sabrina, Chloé’s lap dog slides into the desk beside Marinette, her orange/red hair in stark contrast with her teal-green eyes sparkling behind her glasses, and pale skin. She’s wearing a, quite frankly, ugly sweater vest.

“So,” Chloé sneers again, “why don’t you just go and sit beside that new girl over there.” She turns to point at a girl she hadn’t seen walk into the room.

She has darker skin like Nino, with long, curly, red-orange locks. She’s wearing a red-orange flannel short-sleeved shirt. At the mention of “New girl” she turns from her phone and her brown eyes glare behind glasses at Chloé.

“But..” is all Marinette can think of in response. (She’s tired, and already feeling exhausted, she doesn’t want to move or think.)

Chloé turns back to Marinette, her hands on her hips, her face contorted in anger. “Listen, Adrien is arriving today, and since that’s,” she points to the seat beside Nino, “ going to be he— his seat, this is going to be my seat.” Chloé slams her hand down in front of Marinette again, then she turns toward her fully, slamming her other hand on the desk. “Get it?”

Adrien... who is this Adrien? And why is he friends with Chloé?

“Uh, who’s Adrien?” She asks Chloé.

Two simultaneous gasps leave Chloé’s and Sabrina’s mouths. Then they burst out laughing in that ridiculous, annoying laugh, drawing Myléne’s attention.

The laughing stops abruptly and Chloé speaks again. “Can you believe she doesn’t know who Adrien is?” She directs this at Sabrina. Then, to Marinette, Chloé scrunches her face in disgust and anger. “What rock have you been living under?”

“He’s only a famous model!” Sabrina chimes in.

“And I am his best friend.” Chloé begins again.

Marinette raises her eyebrows at this. None of that helps clarify who Adrien is. And, if he’s a famous model, why would any sane teacher let a man who is probably in his early/mid 20’s come to class with 14-15 year olds?! Why is a man who is in his mid 20’s still in middle school?!

“He adores me.” Chloé looks to Marinette, and scoffs when she sees that Marinette has not moved from her seat. “Uh, go on, move!” She emphasizes this with a thumb pointing toward the proposed seats.

And all Marinette can think of is, is this Choe’s new scheme to get attention? Who would believe that a 20 something year old is hanging out with a 14 year old? They’d be all over the news.

Suddenly, the new girl is behind Chloé, her voice strong and brave. A fatal mistake when talking to Chloé Bourgeois. “Back off, Brat.”

Chloé turns to the girl, anger and annoyance taking the wheel. She leans toward the new girl, making sure her tone is mocking and sarcastic. “Ooh, look, Sabrina, we got a little do-gooder in our classroom!” Chloé leans in further. “What’re you going to do, Super Newbie, shoot beams at me with your glasses.”

Marinette cringes, this is why it is best to stay docile around Chloé, if she senses any opposition at all, she’ll only cause a scene.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” The new girl sneers, her voice dark and dangerous. She pushes Chloé to the side and reaches for Marinette’s arm. “C’mon” she says as she grabs Marinette’s arm. Marinette barely has any time to grab her box of macarons and her bag before she’s being dragged from her seat.

In her haste to steady herself, grab her stuff, and the new girl’s quick pace, Marinette misses a step on the way to her new seat and ends up falling; her box of macarons falling to the floor, where several are flung from the box and are crushed on the floor. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.” She mumbles as she cleans up and slides into her new seat for the year. Chloé’s and Sabrina’s laughing etching its way into her memory.

“Chill-ax, girl, no biggie!” The new girl says, eyeing Marinette as she’s hunched over her almost empty box of macaroons.

“Alright, has everyone found a seat?” The teacher asks the class as other kids file in, leaning her hands on the desk. The class speaking up behind them drowning out her voice.

Marinette straightens up and looks to the new girl, “But I so wish I could handle Chloé the way you do.” The new girl raises an eyebrow, a corner of her lips quirking up. Not threatening, or suspicious, but curious and slightly confused. She reaches for her phone and unlocks it.

“You mean the way Majestia does it.” The new girl pulls up an image of a woman in a skin tight, blue suit, her shoulders, hands and face uncovered. She wears a fire truck red, sleeveless jacket with a ruffled coat tail, two thick, golden, zigzagging lines run across the bust, stars above the lines. Boots of the same shade reach to about her mid calf, the tops lined with the same type of lines as the jacket. “She says: All that is necessary for the triumph of Evil, is for Good to do nothing.” The new girl says proudly.

She leans past Marinette, wrapping her left arm around her shoulders and pointing to Chloé with her right hand. “And that girl over there, is evil, and we,” she points to herself and Marinette, “are the good people. She has a smirk on her lips. “We can’t let her get away with it!”

“That’s easier said than done...” Marinette hunches her shoulders a bit, her voice dejected. “She likes to make my life miserable.”

“That’s easy to fix, girl, you just need more confidence!” The new girl says, conviction strong in her voice.

Marinette smiles, and takes the last remaining macaron and breaks it in half, extending the other out to the new girl.

“Marinette.” she says.

“Alya,” the new girl says in response, taking the half macaron.

With this, they turn to the front, pleased smiles on their faces.

Maybe... maybe this year isn’t going to be so bad?

--------------------------

“For those of you who don’t yet know me,” the teacher says, drawing all attention her way, “I’m Ms. Bustier.”

As class starts, Chloé leans on her new desk, sadness in her face and eyes. Looking at the empty seat before her. “Ugh, he should have been here by now.” she says under her breath.

She meant to have annoyance in her tone, and she does, but she can’t hide the underlying disappointment.

Where is s— he?

-------------------------

Master Fu watches as Adrien rushes through the street, pressing against the bushes and trees, looking over his shoulder frequently, searching for something or someone.

Fu smiles, it seems like this young man has decided to try to get some freedom. But, if the frantic look in his eyes means anything, it’ll most likely be short lived.

The young man reaches the school grounds, and pauses next to a cologne ad poster that, coincidentally, has him on it. He looks over his shoulder again, and a smile finds his way into his face. He’s beaten the system, it would seem. For the time being.

This is Fu’s chance to issue his Challenge, to see if he has the ability to wield the Miraculous of Destruction. He has the potential, when faced with no other option, but this will test whether he will choose to help others and not himself. To do what he feels is right, and forfeit what he wants.

Just as Adrien reaches the steps, Fu launches his plan, clutching his back and falling to the ground, dropping his cane just out of his reach. Crying out in pain.

This causes the boy pause, and he stands on the steps of the school, frozen in place. Trying to figure out what to do, looking between Fu and the school’s front door.

Not a second later, he rushes to Fu, bringing his cane to his hands and helping him stand.

“Thank you, young man!” He says, patting his arm. Adrien’s eyes cringe and he tenses before his entire face lights up.

Huh, interesting...

“Do you need help getting to where you’re going?” He asks, his green eyes hopeful. No doubt wanting to help out more. If only so he could get further away from whoever he’s running from.

“No, I will be fine, but thank you for your kindness! Now, shoo, go to school!”

Adrien nods, the mention of school making his face light up even more.

He turns and rushes to the steps, and, just before he reaches the door, a silver sedan screeches to a stop, a tall woman clad in a purple suit and red blouse, her black hair fading to red on the left side. “Adrien, please reconsider! You know what your father wants!”

She walks slowly toward Adrien, as a large man steps out from the driver's seat, walking toward him with her. Adrien turns slowly toward them, his feet frozen in place, fear in his eyes. But only for a brief moment.

“But this is what I want!” He says, the fear taking a back seat to hurt and anger. “I’m sick of being stuck at home. I want to be like a normal kid!”

The woman shakes her head. “Adrien, you are not a normal kid, your father can’t afford to have you at public school!”

Adrien scoffs, “We both know he has more than enough money to afford it.”

“That’s not what I mean, Adrien. You know he only does this to keep you safe. He’s doing this for you.”

At this, Adrien’s eyes soften, his posture drooping. “I know... I just... I want to be around others. Please don’t tell Father about this.”

The woman’s eyes soften as she puts a hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “I know, and I’m sorry. But you just can’t. Come, let’s go home.”

As Adrien is led to the sedan, and is driven off back home, the second box pulsates in Fu’s pocket.

This boy has the traits that are required for the use of this Miraculous, but he does not have the right life for it. Fu is unsure whether Adrien can handle it. Plagg seems set on this boy, however. And, if Adrien is going to learn and grow, there is only one other Miraculous that will do just as good a job, and he’s already found a match for Creation.

He’ll just have to watch out for Plagg. With that, Fu swings his cane onto his shoulder and walks away whistling, following the sedan.

-------------------------

“Those of you who have P.E., Mr. D’Argencourt is expecting you at the stadium.” Ms. Bustier calls to the class as the bell rings and everyone packs up.

As the kid named Ivan, A large, fair skinned boy, with short brown hair save for the small tuft of blond in the front, gets up Kim gives him a note.

“The rest of you can head over to the library.”

A moment later, Ivan bursts out with an angry cry of “Kim!” He lurches toward Kim, an impish smirk on the lankier boy’s face. Ivan is cranking his fist back to slam it into Kim’s fragile face.

“Ivan! What are you doing?!” Ms. Bustier exclaims, leaning over her desk in shock. Ivan looks to her in confusion, lowering his fist.

“It’s Kim!” Ivan looks back at Kim, raising his fist again, and, for the first time, Kim is shocked and scared. “I’m so gonna—“

“Ivan! Go to the principal’s office!” Ms. Bustier cuts in, pointing out the door.

At that, Ivan steps away from Kim, growling as he looks back down at the note Kim passed him. With anger rolling off him, Ivan crumples the note in his hand and storms out of the classroom, muttering to himself; leaving Kim to shake in his seat, and Ms. Bustier to wonder if she could have worked the situation out better.

----------------------

The man known as Hawkmoth stands in a large room, a metal, circular window cover sliding open, letting light pour into the room, sending pure white butterflies fluttering about.

“Such powerful emotions. Anger. Frustration. Betrayal. And in a school no less, a perfect catalyst to test my limits.” He reaches for a butterfly, and clasps his hands around it. A second later, dark, purple energy seeps into the butterfly, and when he releases the butterfly, it is black with purple cracking apart the black, a violet mask-like pattern on it’s head and back, its legs a dark purple. “Burn a hole into his heart, little akuma, transform his anger into something more!”

The transformed butterfly, now an akuma, flies through the air, tracking down the boy with such anger and frustration with supernatural speed.

---------------------

Ivan opens the door to the principal’s office, but before he can take a step inside, the principal stops him.

“Excuse me, young man! Hasn’t anyone taught you to knock?” The principle, a large, overweight, white man with a receding hairline and greying hair exclaims. This shocks Ivan, his anger and frustration building. “Go on, go again.” He says, leaning back in his decked out, rolling swivel chair.

With a shake of his head and a growl, Ivan closes the door and turns around, raising a fist to knock.

Before he can put his fist to the wood, something stops him. A sound. The sound of something wet twisting and crawling. And suddenly, in his mind, there is a man floating in a grey space, his voice echoing all around his head. The principal’s “Go on, knock!” is ignored.

The man before Ivan is wearing a dark purple suit, and it shines in a way cloth doesn’t, kind of like rubber. On his chest are two black wing like lapels, which just make whoever this guy is look weird. Covering his head is a grey mask, only his eyes, which are an unsettling violet, and mouth looking normal. He’s leaning on a cane.

“Stoneheart.” the man says Ivan’s confusion at the name going unacknowledged. “I am Hawkmoth, I am giving you the strength and unstoppable power to seek revenge on those who have wronged you. To prove to them that you do have what it takes. All I need you to do is cause mayhem. Destroy all that you can.”

The power to get back at Kim? To prove that he does have what it takes?

And all he needs to do is cause mayhem?

Who can deny such a thing?

“Okay, I’ll do it.” Ivan says, a dark look on his face.

The man smirks.

Black and purple bubbles ripple over Ivan’s body, morphing his skin and bones.

When the bubbles disperse, Ivan is no more. Only Stoneheart remains. Standing at 2 meters tall, with cracked stone for skin and yellow eyes. He’s built like an athlete, and literally chiseled. Wrapped around his right hand is a purple fabric, like that a boxer would wear under their boxing glove. On his chest, the stone is jagged and protruding, right where his heart would be, like his heart had exploded. The cracks in the stone glow a faint yellow.

“Well?” The principal asks, waiting for a response.

Suddenly, the door is flung from its hinges, the principal only has enough time to move enough so that the door doesn’t slam into his head, but it still collides with his shoulder, sending him to the ground.

With an almighty roar, Stoneheart launches through the window, leaving an echo of “KIM!” behind as the entire wall crumbles to the street below.

-----------------------

In the library, a thunderous roar rattles the walls, then the whole building shakes, causing students to tumble to the ground.

After a few seconds, Alya, Marinette’s new friend, grabs her from the ground and drags her to the TVs in the library, which are showing the security footage.

A large, probably 2 meters tall, stone golem is walking down the street, the cracks in it’s stone skin glowing bright yellow. It roars in a voice so raspy and stiff, she wonders if it has vocal chords, and if so, how they’re working.

“Wh-what’s going on? I thought it was an earthquake!” a random kid exclaims.

Alya turns to Marinette, her hands on her cheeks. “It’s a real life super villain!” Suddenly, Alya’s eyes glint and she pulls out her phone. “Battery, 80%, check! GPS, check! I am so outta here!” Then she’s off, leaving Marinette to marvel at her.

“Wait! Hey, where’re you going?”

Alya pauses only briefly before turning around and hopping backwards “Where there’s a super villain, there is always a superhero!” Then she’s through the doors.

This is such a weird day...

Marinette looks back to the tv and jumps as the rock monster collides a car, the car crumbling and shattering. The yellow in the cracks of it’s skin glows brighter and- and she could have sworn it grew! It picks up what remains of the car with ease, and throws it at the school camera, and it goes to static. The building shakes again as crumbling brick and groaning metal reverberates through the school.

---------------------

Fu stops just outside the gates of a mansion. His eyes glinting with wonder and awe.

This should provide good living conditions for a being with such a high cost diet.

He hums in delight, letting Wayzz take the pulsating box up into the mansion.

-------------------

Adrienne *hates* homeschooling. She’s alone, save for Nathalie, and has to stay in one place for at least 7 hours, sometimes more, depending on the lesson. And, most of the time, she’s in the dining hall, the cold, undecorated dining hall. She’s stuck hearing her father, Nathalie, the mansion staff, call her ”Adrien”. Call her a boy. She can’t talk to anyone, can’t have a break. It’s useless.

“Who was the 1st president of the 5th French republic?” Nathalie walks up and down the length of the dining table. A tablet and pen in hand.

And all Adrienne can do is lean against her hand, not even able to summon more than a bored, monotone voice. “Everyone thinks it was De Gaulle but it was actually René Coty before the first elections.”

“Excellent, Adrien!” Nathalie exclaims. Turning around, a… pleased look on her face? ‘When did that happen?!’ Adrienne can’t help but think in shock. She opens her mouth to say something but a cold voice cuts through the room.

“Give me a minute would you, Nathalie?” Adrienne immediately tenses. It’s an involuntary reaction she has no control over. Not anymore.

Her Father turns to look at Adrienne, his eyes cold, disappointed, disproving. Angry. But his face remains stoic. “You are not going to school. I have already told you.”

Adrienne’s heart sinks. She looks to Nathalie, her eyes burning. She betrayed her. She- she does know what happens when she disobeys her Father, right?

Nathalie only lowers her head in shame.

Adrienne looks back to her father. “But, Father-“

“Everything you need is right here, where I can keep an eye on you.” He cuts in, tone dark and dangerous. “I will not have you outside in that dangerous world.”

“It’s not dangerous!” Adrienne tries, standing up from her seat, hands on the table. “I’m always stuck here by myself! Why can’t I go out and make friends just like everybody else?” She asks, pointing out the grand window to her left.

“Because you are not everybody else! You are My son” Adrienne flinches, her body flinching as her gut falls. She hates it when he sounds like that, it makes her feel so small. She has to bite her tongue to keep herself from shaking at her father’s deep, angry voice. He’s using the tone that suggests that he will not allow for any more words to be said.

Adrienne stands up straight, bowing her head, holding back tears that threaten to form.

Always her... it’s always Adrienne who makes things difficult. Who makes Father angry. All Adrienne does is antagonize him.

With that, Gabriel leaves, and Nathalie steps forward. “We can leave it there if you wan-“

Before she even finishes, Adrienne takes off running, hiding her— his face. Hiding his reddening eyes.

As he runs to his room, he catches a brief glimpse of a painting of him, his father and his mother.

But he can’t look at it for so long. It brings back too many bad memories.

Once in his room, he lays down on his bed, Letting his pillow soak in all the tears leaking from his— her eyes. From her eyes.

Why is Father like this? The thought bounces around in Adrienne’s head, it makes her dizzy. Why am I like this, if I’m really- if I’m really a girl, I wouldn’t revert to using those pronouns, to using “Adrien” when I’m stressed, would I? I wouldn’t do that when I anger Father, would I? How the hell am I a girl-

He doesn’t understand, Adrienne’s mother’s voice cuts through her spiraling thoughts. He probably never will. Your father is a stubborn man, and closed off in many ways. Just remember who you are, and that I’m here for you, my beautiful daughter.

This only makes Adrienne sadder. She isn’t here anymore. How can Adrienne keep going if she isn’t here?

Suddenly, something shakes the mansion, sounding like a stampede.

Curiosity takes over, and Adrienne takes off to go find out what’s happening.

She opens the front doors of the mansion, and a large (probably 4 meters tall) rock person is stomping its way toward a police blockade.

When the monster is within 10 meters, the police officer standing on top of a police car yells: “F-ire!” His voice cracks with fear and all the surrounding police officers fire off their guns.

The rock monster holds up it’s arms, but instead of the bullets doing any harm, they make the cracks in between the monster’s skin glow brighter, and it grows to be 2 meters taller! The police officer that was on the car scrambles down and tries to get away, but the monster grabs the car the officer was previously standing on with one hand, shouts out an unintelligible word, then throws the car with ease at the police officer; who only just barely manages to get out of the way.

Whatever this thing is, they sure are very, very angry.

Adrienne sprints back to her room, and vaults over her sofa, turning on the TV to the news.

“I’m asking all Parisians to stay inside until the situation’s under control.” Mayor Bourgeois says into the microphone, and Adrienne lets out a snort. Having everyone stay inside is the right call, don’t want anyone getting in the way... but, the man would be more than happy if he were the only one that stayed inside. And with the way that the situation is being handled, it isn’t going to be solved any time soon.

Then it switches to the TVi news station, where Nadja Chamack reports. “As incredible as it seems, it has been confirmed that Paris is, indeed, being attacked by a monster. The police have been struggling to get the situation under control.” Up in the right corner, a camera still reports what the monster is doing. Which, by the looks of it, is picking up cars and throwing them at buildings, trees, and other cars, destroying buildings and otherwise just causing mayhem, carnage and... and death.

It switches to another news camera, and it shows the police officer that was on the car in front of the gates, he’s getting his arm bandaged by a firefighter, speaking to an interviewer. “Be confident! The strong arm of-“ he cuts himself off as a painful crack is heard from the officer’s broken arm, his face contorting in pain. The firefighter then eases the arm down, and admonishes him for using his broken arm. “I meant to use the other arm...” the officer mumbles.

Blinking and shaking her head, Adrienne looks away, trying not to be too ashamed of Paris’s police force. From the looks of things, this monster is absorbing kinetic energy and using it to grow stronger.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, something catches her attention.

It’s a small box, with Chinese characters she doesn’t recognize on it.

She diverts her full attention to this box, a confused: “What’s this doing here?” Leaving her lips.

She picks it up, weighing it in her hand, moving it around and shaking it. It makes no noise. Shrugging, she opens it and finds a folded piece of paper. When she picks up the paper, she catches sight of a black ring, the corners of the face have silver raised points.

Suddenly, a bright green light glints off the ring, and a ball of green light bursts from it, temporarily blinding her, making her drop the paper, and box.

When her vision returns, there is a small, black being laying down in the air. It has a body covered with smooth, black fur, with a slight green sheen to it. It has a puff of fur on both cheeks, with two long, black whiskers poking out of each puff. There are similar tufts of hair on the bendy points of its limbs and back where the limbs connect to it. It has an aura that surrounds it that makes everything seem darker around it. Light seems to bend around it, like a black hole. It has two long, thin, puffy tails. It has two little ears that are currently drooped lazily, and little wisps of hair poke out from the inside. It has a tiny nose and snout. It... looks like a small deformed cat. And is absolutely adorable!

Suddenly, it uprights itself, stretching its arms and legs, little claws extending from it’s limbs, and releases a huge yawn. Upon closer inspection, each limb ends with a little paw. Its mouth reveals tiny, tiny fangs and an emerald green hue on the inside of its mouth. It’s ears perk up. Once it’s done with the yawn, the ears drop down again, and it opens its eyes to reveal two neon green eyes with black, slitted pupils.

“No way!” Adrienne exclaims. “This is so cool! You’re like the genie in the lamp!” She reaches a finger up to rub the little cat-genie’s forehead.

The little cat-genie launches back. It’s eyes going wide, with…. fear? But the cat-genie quickly schools its adorable little face into calm, uninterested, unimpressed neutrality.

“I met him once, so he grants wishes, big deal, I can do so much better and I'm personable!” The cat-genie crosses its nubs over its chest, claws extending slightly, spreading its leg nubs, like it’s pouting. Clearly trying to look intimidating, but Adrienne can see that it’s trying to gauge her reactions.

Huh, so the cat-genie speaks... it... it’s awfully squeaky and nasal.

It looks up to Adrienne, its eyes piercing into her soul. “Plagg, nice to meet ya.”

With the one sided greetings out of the way, The cat-genie known as Plagg zooms into a swirl before zipping off to explore the room, startling Adrienne some.

It lands on the foosball table, “Ooo, swanky!” Then it chomps down on a figure’s head, ignoring Adrienne’s “Don’t touch that!” by saying “Nope, not eatable.”

Just as Adrienne is about to grab Plagg, it takes off again, Adrienne’s ”Hey! Get back here!” going unnoticed as it locks eyes on an arcade’s joystick. “It’s so shiny!” Plagg lands on the joystick, uttering a curious “Can you eat this?” Before clamping its mouth down on the joystick ball.

Plagg turns away from it in disgust as it finds that it cannot, in fact, eat the joystick. “No, you can’t.” It says slightly dejectedly, then locks into something else and zooms away from Adrienne’s hand, leaving behind an excited “Ooh, what about this?”

----------------------------------

Marinette hates back to school days. She makes sure to tell her computer screen just that as she watches the news.

At the moment, Sabrina’s father is talking to a news reporter, having his arm wrapped up by a firefighter. “Be confident! The strong arm of-“ he cuts himself off as a painful crack is heard from Officer Roger’s arm, his face contorting in pain. The firefighter then eases the arm down, and admonishes him for using his broken arm. “I meant to use the other arm...” he mumbles.

Marinette shakes her head. Officer Roger can be a... a special type of person sometimes.

She glances down to her mouse to click away from the news station, but finds a black box with Chinese characters she doesn’t recognize.

Picking it up, she opens it, and finds a folded up paper. When she removes it, she catches a glance of two red earrings with black spots on each stud before a bright red/pink light glints off of them and she is temporarily blinded.

When it fades, Marinette’s jaw drops. So does the box and paper.

Floating before her, with its head bowed, is a giant scarlet/pink, ladybug-like bug, with a head much larger than the rest of its body. It has two antennae coming from its forehead and droop toward its back. It has a large black dot on its forehead. On its back is a scarlet ladybug shell, with five small black spots. From this shell are some pink, translucent wings that aren’t moving. The light around it seems to be…. brighter. Its limbs are little, sectioned, black nubs.

Suddenly its head shoots up, the light glinting off it’s large white eyes that have rings of blue in the center.

“Haaweeelllp!” The word leaves her mouth in a shriek as she jumps back, tipping over her chair, getting as far away from this- this- this giant bug! “It’s a giant bug!...”

The bug, no not a bug, a mouse… “A mouse!”

No, a-a bug-mouse, “Bug-mouse!”

it slowly floats its way toward her.

It continues to get closer.

“A- an alien!” She almost shrieks.

“Everything’s okay! Don’t be scared!” Its voice is high pitched, super high pitched, and slightly squeaky.

Marinette’s terrified, she does the only sensible thing. She grabs something behind her and chucks it at the bug-mouse-alien, eyes going wide, and it dodges her projectile. “Bug-mouse can talk! Bug-mouse talks!” She continues to throw things at the bug-mouse-alien, her terror only growing as it continues to dodge all of her projectiles.

“Listen, Marinette...” the bug-mouse-alien continues to speak. “I know everything is strange...”

As it talks and gets closer, Marinette can’t help but release terrified squeaks and whimpers as she gropes around for something to trap the bug-mouse thing under.

Suddenly, her fingers find a cup, and delight shoots through her as she lunges at the bug-mouse, slamming the glass cup down around the little —giant?— thing. She absently wonders why the glass didn’t shatter.

It looks up at Marinette, its expression and eyes calm. “Okay, If this makes you feel safer.”

It has no qualms about being stuck?! What can this thing do that makes it so that it isn’t scared of being trapped under something?!

Marinette keeps the glass firmly on the ground. “What are you? How do you know my name?” She asks.

“I’m a kwami,” the bug-mouse puts a nub on its chest. “And my name is Tikki!” it perks up as it says it’s name. “Now, just let me explain.” Its voice is slightly muffled by the glass. It makes the bug -Tikki- sound even weirder.

“MAMAN, PAPA!” Marinette shouts, inching her way to her trap door.

“No, no, no!” Tikki tries to warn her, pressing against the glass, but Marinette still ignores it. She puts a hand on the trap door and Tikki calls out again. “No!” It tries again, pushing against the glass, but Marinette keeps ignoring it.

“MAMA-“

“Shhh, No!” Tikki cuts her off, phasing through the glass and floating in front of her face. “I’m your friend, Marinette, you can trust me.”

Marinette narrows her gaze,

“Marinette?” comes the worried voice of her Maman, and Tikki and Marinette stare at eachother in tense silence.

“...It’s nothing, Maman, sorry”

Marinette turns to Tikki, the talking bug-mouse-alien-- ahem, Kwami. “Explain.”

----------------------

In such a big room, filled with so much stuff, the kid doesn’t even have any food to eat! Plagg’s tried so many things. Still, nothing edible!

He could just use atrophy and siphon off some energy, but that requires effort, and he did not wake up from 250 years of being dormant only to have to do things as soon as he is activated!

Plagg is zipping around this human child’s room and finds a semi-promising rectangle. Hopefully this works!

He bites down, only for his fangs to meet hard, foul tasting material. Ugh, he should just Cataclysm this whole room...

He drops the remote, and raises a paw, but the human-child drops from the ceiling and wraps her feeble, insufficient, human fingers around his body, which does not make him release an embarrassing yelp. Nope, not at all. It’s funny, how the human thinks she can keep him in place with just her fingers wrapped around his body, which is made from the very essence of chaos, destruction, bad luck and most importantly, if he does say so himself, death!

...Eh, he’ll let the child have her victory.

“Listen, I still don’t know what you’re doing here.” The child says, her tone stern.

Ha! As if a human can intimidate him!

This is really getting old, he just wants sustenance! Even mushrooms will do! Birds and fish are better, but they taste weird. Cheese is preferable, and Camembert is exquisite.

“Look, I’m a kwami. Kwamis grant powers.” Plagg narrows his eyes at this, this uninformed child. “Basic gist of mine is Destruction. Got it?”

“Nuh-Uh.” The child shakes her head, her blonde locks swaying. The locks of hair that grab the light just right... that are probably super soft locks... Locks that would make for an amazing be—

Plagg shakes his head. No time to get distracted. He needs food.

“Good.”, He looks around before looking into the child’s eyes and not the attention grabbing hair that looks like such a great spot to sleep in. “Got anything to eat, I’m starving!”

The child narrows her eyes, staring at him. Plagg stares back, keeping his expression neutral.

“Father’s pranking me, right?” The child stands up, leaning her massive, disgustingly proportionate, head over him. Plagg looks away, he does not want to see up that nose, no matter how clean it is. It’s gross.

“Wait... that’s not possible, Father doesn’t have a sense of humor.”

Plagg pulls himself from the human’s surprisingly tight grasp, spreading his limbs out wide. No matter what he thinks of this rule, the last time he didn’t obey it, Tikki ignored him for 500 years and his wielder caused Vesuvius, all because Tikki’s wielder, by extension, also ignored him. “Your dad must never know I exist. Or anyone for that matter.”

Adrienne tilts her head. Furrowing her eyebrows. “Plagg, I’m pretty sure Father already knows other humans exist...”

Plagg raises his eyebrows. This kid might actually be fun to be around. “I meant no one else can know that I exist.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes more sense.”

“Anyway,” Plagg zips into the kids face. “Where. Is. The. Food?” The kid looks at him with the weirdest expression.

“I only get to eat at breakfast, lunch and dinner. No snacks.”

Plagg narrows his eyes. “That’s no way to live!”

“Well It’s how I live.”

Plagg drops his tone a bit. “It’s not a way that anyone should ever have to live.”

The kid’s eyes go wide

Plagg stares into her eyes, cocking his head. “Well, time to get this out of the way.” Plagg suddenly zips from in front of Adrienne, and into her bathroom. “I’m a kwami, and I can grant you the ability to destroy anything you touch!”

Plagg stops before a roll of paper, hanging above a , quite frankly disappointing, porcelain throne. He grabs and *nearly* lets out a delighted gasp. Such an amazing invention! He drops it to the ground before landing on it and it starts to unravel. FUN!

“All you need to do is put on the ring! To be able to do anything, you call out “Claws Out” and to activate your power, call out Cataclysm, you’ll be able to destroy anything you touch!” He explains as he runs around the room on this roll of super soft paper. (Well, actually the powers that he can grant are much more than a mere Catalclysm, but the kid isn’t ready for that yet. Plus, Tikki’d kill him if he were to tell her that.)

“I can do that?”

“Psssshhh, no, I can do that, I just allow you to be able to do that.”

“What do I say again?”

“Claws Out.”

“Claws out?”

The ring sucks Plagg in and he’s getting ready to meld with the kid. Create what she wants subconsciously. In a flash, he’s inside her mind and he’s ready to shape her body to the way it’s supposed to be, but stops. It would make her happy, but she isn‘t ready for anyone else to know yet, she’d have a break down. And, probably worse. So, he lets her mind create her suit in accordance to what she wants right now.

-----------------------

Looking in her mirror, Marinette puts on the earrings. “So, you’re saying, you can give me the power to…. create anything—“

“At random, you won't be able to choose it!”

“—and restore damage—“

“Only if you cast Lucky Charm! And it only restores damage dealt to people caused by a specific event that has happened recently.”

“Okay, so, you can transform me into a ladybug styled superhero, with increased physical and mental capabilities-“

“Mental only in the fact that you’ll be able to take in more information and take it in faster, other than that, it’s all you!”

“And I can create a random object by calling out Lucky Charm and restore damage dealt to living things caused by a specific event by calling out Miraculous Ladybug?”

“Yep!”

“And I can become this Ladybug by….”

“Calling out ‘Spots On” Tikki looks into Marinette’s eyes, he doesn’t know it yet, he hasn’t realized it yet.

Hopefully he will. She really doesn’t want Marinette to go through more of his life in unknown misery. Luckily, when the time comes, she can help!

“Spots On?”

“Wait I forgot—“

Melding with his mind, Tikki ignores the urge to shape Marinette’s body the way she knows he feels subconsciously like he should. He doesn’t know yet, and she doesn’t want to put that stress on him. But Sugar cookies she forgot to tell him about the ability to purify things! And that the way to take down this thing is to destroy the corrupted object, or that there is a corrupted object. Well, he’s her wielder, he’ll figure it out.

Technically Tikky can give her wielders so much more power, but this is the first time being her wielder, so she’ll have to ease Marinette into this.

[This is the image I used to base Nooroo’s, Tikki’s and Plagg’s designs on, I have also used it to alter Trixx’s, Wayzz’s, Pollen’s and Duusuu’s designs.]

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fan ficton #miraculous ladybug fic #trans girl! Adrienne #trans girl adrien #trans boy! marinette #trans boy! marin #trans au #wintertundra-art's trans au #miraculous ladybug rewrite #origins rewrite #rewrite au #some character descriptions have changed #powers reworked #my writing #part one of 3 #possibly 4 #nonbinary nooroo #it/its nooroo

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oblivious-embodied · 3 years

Text

Sneak Peak to Chapter 2 of my ML ReWrite AU (unfinished)

“Claws Out?” Adrienne watches as Plagg spaghettifies as the tiny cat gets sucked toward the ring on her finger, and when Plagg makes contact, there is a blinding, green flash of light.

When she regains her bearings, she looks down at her hand and holds back a gasp.

Not only is her hand covered in a black substance, but her entire body is too! And the ring, the Black Cat Miraculous as it’s called, it’s all black, with a neon green paw print on the face.

Looking at the rest of her body, she notes that she’s got bulbous things (possibly guards or safety features?) on her wrists. Tthere seems to be some padding that has been riveted to her forearm, as well as on her shoulders.

There’s some black tubing running diagonally inward toward her heart from the middle of her deltoid to just above her peck, back down under her arm, up to her shoulderblade and back to her deltoid.

She’s got a zipper up the front of her chest, with a bell hanging off the zipper lever. She’s got some pockets too!

A black belt is wrapped around her waist that wraps around itself on the back to become tail-like, and it swings in lazy curls. Like a cat’s tail would. It seems almost curious in the way it curls in on itself, hesitating to touch Adrienne’s body.

She’s got some sort of steel-toed boots, but they’re skin tight and the steel toes are incredibly large and resemble cat paws.

Adrienne pokes the substance covering her skin curiously and bites back a yelp when a claw shoots from her finger, bouncing off the body suit before retracting. “Plaaaaaaaaaagg?” Adrienne calls out cautiously, unable to take her eyes of the suit that is laying on her body.

When she hears no response from the genie-kwami-cat, Adrienne takes a look into the mirror and her eyes blow wide as she tilts her head in curiousity.

Her hair has become longer by a good 2 inches, at least, and has become the literal embodiment of “bed-head” hair. It also seems to have a slight green hue to it. If her father ever saw her hair like this, he would ground her for a week and send her through a week and a half long powerpoint lecture of model hair care.

Again.

Then, when the initial shock of the new look wears off, she notices something that makes her heart warm. The new hairstyle frames her face incredibly well, it makes her almost want to look at her face. Makes her want to be happy looking at her face.

She’s… never really liked looking at her face. It never looked right. It was never what she thought, what she felt her face should look like. Even when she was a kid, something was off.

She’s still in the same body, the same wrong, male body, but it feels so much better than before. And she has absolutely no idea why.

What makes her smile even wider are the cat ears sitting atop her head. They’re small and cute and absolutely adorable and the way they smoosh the hair underneath them makes them look all that much cuter.

Then, she makes eye contact with herself and is instantly mezmerized by the neon green cat eyes sitting where her human eyes should be, framed by a black domino mask.

She tilts her head to the right, to the left, she spins around and around and around and the eyes in the reflection still follow her.

Then she realizes that those eyes in the reflection are hers.

Taking a shaky breath, Adrienne takes a moment to calm down. Plagg said that he-- it??-- can grant her the power of... destruction was it? She can’t remember.

But Plagg also said that she’ll have a partner, “the wielder of Creation”, whatever that means. She should go find her partner.

Shaking her head, Adrienne takes a closer look at this new suit-clothing-thing covering her body, (it reminds her of that american superhero comic villian, she believes the name to be Venom? She’ll have to read up on it again) and determines it to be some sort of leather based off the way the material has subtle spiderweb cracks in it. And the way it smells.

It’s a weird smell. She’s smelled leather before, the musty, almost new car like smell, but this is different. It almost burns her nose to smell. And… cheese?

Shaking her head again, she takes a step back and straightens up, (when had she been hunched over? Father would kill her for having such horrible posture!) and lets out a low moan as her entire body *Cracks* and somehow she feels incredibly energetic. Like she could run the whole of the Périphérique twice over in an hour and not be out of breath!

Taking a moment, she quickly calculates that running the Peripherique twice over in less than an hour would mean she could steadily run at 72 kilometers per hour, which means she could run even faster!

And if she thinks she can do this *easily* that means that she can go even *faster!*

Watch out Paris, there’s a new thing coming to town, and she is *fast.*

...And strangely cat themed.

Adrienne rolls her shoulders and finds that her entire body flows with it, like she’s dancing to a rhythm her brain has yet to register.

As she bounces up and down a little bit, she notices that the soreness she feels in her shoulders, heck her entire body, that is usully there due to her job as a model for Agreste Fashions, is no longer there.

Usually that only happens after a long nice massage.

This is so strange.

She rolls her head and works her jaw, which makes a popping sound in her ears and-

*crack!*

“*Ow!* That *hurt*” she cries out, slapping her hands over her ears in an attempt to keep the pain away, falling to her knees as she does so.

Then all the noises flood her ears.

She curls inward on herself, clutching her ears with tears in her tightly shut eyes as she can *hear* the electricity from the tv, the computers, the security system, the arcade games, her phone, from Everything in her goddamn *house*.

She can hear the clicking of Nathalie’s keyboard, the breaths she takes, the footsteps of the kitchen staff. She can hear the electronic ringing of the lightbulbs, the honking from cars that comes from every concievable direction. She can hear the slamming of doors, shattering glass, the shrieking of metal, crumbling of concrete, cracking of bones and-

She screams, curling even tighter in on herself, which only makes her ears hurt more, but it’s something to keep her mind off of the Noise of Everything Else. She takes deep breaths, trying desperately to calm her rapidly beating heart (which she can *hear*) and her muddled thoughts.

After a few seconds, she somehow manages to pick out the rapidly approaching footsteps from the utter cacophony of sounds drowinging her senses, and panics. She screamed bloody murder in her own house, of course people would come look for her.

She looks her door. If they open that door, Nathalie will rush in. Nathalie wont recognize her, they’ll attack and she’d be the worst hero to ever exist.

She’d also get attacked by at least 6 grown adults, and possibly charged with something, and grounded and all that.

She scrambles upward on wobbly limbs, trying to block out everything she can hear, and frantically looks around her room for something to do.

Then her eyes lock on the window.

And Adrienne does the only sensible thing.

She jumps through the window, sailing through the tempered glass (tempered. Frickin. glass.) and onto another rooftop across the street where she stumbles behind a chimney.

She didn’t even get cut. There is not a single cut on her body. What the hell *is* this thing?

After a minute, when she’s finally calm enough to not be in a state of utter shock, she registers something hitting her leg and looks to see what it is.

What she finds is a silver cylinder about 26 centimeters long, with a green paw on it, like her ring.

With a curious tilt of her head, she unclips the cylinder from her belt with one hand, keeping her other hand to her ear to try to block out the noises wreaking havok on her ears. She finds that the neon green paw print on the cylinder is flickering like a lightbulb about to blow.

She squints at the paw print, her eyesight slightly blurry from overwhelming noises, and with a half baked theory in mind, she puts the paw on her ring to the paw on the silver cylinder.

….Nothing happens.

Disappointed, she grabs the cylinder in both hands and glares at it.

“What do I do with you…?” she grumbles as she squints even harder at it.

…That big pad in the middle looks like a button. Buttons are meant to be pushed.

It looks like a very pushable button. She should push it.

Her right thumb twitches, but she doesnt make any moves to push the pad.

It’s a simple display, it wont do anything if she pushes it. She shouldnt touch it. It wont satisfy anything.

But she wants to.

With the way the light catches on it, its like it’s daring her to push it.

Which makes her want to 1) not push it out of spite, and 2) push it to mess with it.

She takes a moment to pause and reflect on her thoughts. Is she going insane? Is she so overwhelmed that she’s literally fighting herself on touching a simple paw print display?

...yes, yes she is.

And without any futher diliberation, she touches her thumb to the paw pad.

And promptly *shrieks* as the cylinder, which was previously only about 26 centimeters long, is suddenly *a meter and a half long*, making her jump back, slamming her head into the bricks (which does *not* help her headache) behind her and throw the cylinder thing, which, admittedly, is now more like a pole, onto a rooftop across the street.

After another minute of deep breaths, she looks behind herself (she’s certain she slammed her head into the bricks, why isnt her head hurting? Well, aside from the intense headache) to the chimney and balks at sight of *shattered brick* in the shape of her head. Her hands shoot to the back of her head and 1) finds it doesn’t hurt to touch and 2) there is no blood whatsoever.

She isn’t even wearing a helmet, or a hood or anything, how is she not bleeding?

If she hit that chimney with enough force to *shatter brick*, she should have a major concussion, and be knocked out cold, but *apparently* the little cat-genie names Plagg forgot to mention a few things.

If she can survive shattering bricks with her head and soaring through tempered glass, that means that her suit likely has some sort of kinetic energy absorbing properties. But it still doesn’t explain why the back of her head, which is completely unprotected, is unscathed.

It also doesn’t explain how she was able to slam her head into a brick chimney and shatter brick.

She needs to talk to Plagg about a lot of things once this is over.

...What is she supposed to do again? Go find her partner?

That seems like the best option.

Adrienne turns around to look for the silver cylinder/pole, but slaps a hand to hert forehead when she remembers that it’s on a rooftop across the street.

…Maybe she can jump the gap?

How’d she get into this mess?

————

Once Marinette can see again, she’s left dumbstruck, staring at her eyes and hair.

She... her eyes are blue now, a vibrant, light blue. A very, very captivating light blue. As blue as a clear summer sky. And the red and black polka dotted domino mask framing her eyes only serves to make her eyes stand out that much more.

She doesn’t like it. She wants her normal eyes back.

And her hair... it’s blue. Her black hair has been replaced with navy blue hair, as black at the midnight sky, as though someone had dyed it in the split second she closed her eyes. She finds that it’s been tied up in her regular pig tails, but the hair ties are long red ribbons. They don’t seem like the most effective way of holding her hair up, anyone could grab hold and yank them out.

She tentatively looks down at the rest of her body and is horrified to find that she’s wearing a ladybug styled *onesie*.

...Maybe she was knocked out and it’s now the future where girls wear skintight, ladybug patterned onesies and have blue hair and wear domino masks and everyone has been genetically modified to have blue eyes and-

Gods she needs to calm down.

Taking frantic breaths, she starts to rub her thumb in circles along her palm, focusing on the feeling of her thumb on her palm, imagining the tingling sensation that usually is the result of the action. She’s okay, she’s safe, she isn’t hurt, she isn’t in pain, she just looks different. It’s all okay.

The world isn’t collapsing into utter chaos, nothing is wrong, she’s in control, she’s still Marinette, she’s okay.

After a few moments of repeating this mantra, Marinette calms down enough to register the screaming outside and has to bite down the bile threatening to rise up her throat.

There is a rampaging stone monster outside that is destroying buildings and property and monuments and is very likely- very likely hurting thousands of people. Not to mention, this means that she really *had* just been talking to a floating creature of an unknown race, unknown origins, made up of some sort of biomass that no one knows about, and this alien being can talk and can grant powers and all sorts of weird fairytale stuff, and is somehow able to conjure a suit made of magic that looks like a toddler wanted to dress like a ladybug for when they want to sleep and dream of flying.

…Wow, that- that sounds even crazier than waking up in a dystopian future where girls have been genetically modified to have blue hair and eyes.

She pinches at the suit, hoping to pinch herself, but doesn’t find any hold on it, her fingers sliding and slipping every which way, which irritates her beyond belief. *How in the world do you take this ^off?!^*

“Tikki?! Tikki, I want my clothes back!” She calls out to the alien-- kwami, the kwami, turning in place to look for the being she she getsno response. Marinette’s pinching becoming even more frantic as her heart rate starts to increase at the thought of not being able to take off the foreign suit.

When she spins around to look in the mirror once more, something catches her attention, stopping her in her tracks.

Around her waist rests a yo-yo.

A… yo-yo…

What in the world can anyone do with a *yo-yo*?

Why the hell does she have a yo-yo?

“Tikki, I’m not going anywhere like this-“

She cuts herself off as Nadja Chamack’s voice sounds from the news again, a hint of fear in her usually professional tone.

“After wrecking the Shcüttler Tower, the monster is heading toward the Montparnasse Tower. No matter what the police do, the monster is unstoppable.” As she says this last part, the camera zooms in on this rock monster, and some crazy person on a bike chasing after it- wait is that?

“Alya?!” Marinette leans in toward the screen in shock. “What’s she doing out there?!”

Marinette stares at the screen, dumbstruck as she tries to figure out how her new friend is so crazy, then she remembers what Alya had said just an hour before: *“Where there’s a super villain, there is always a superhero”*, her phone and in her hand.

Just as Marinette’s hand is flying to her forehead to leave a red mark in the shape of her palm, Marinette’s maman calls out, freezing her hand milimeters from her forehead. “Marinette! Did you get home okay?”

This sends Marinette into a state of panic, her arms and legs flailing around like a human amalgamation of medieval nunchucks, a strangles squeak escaping her throat.

When she is no longer doing her interpretation of a squid in a net, Marinette calls back to her maman, turning around frantically to find a place to avoid her maman, her voice cracking. “*Oh!* Yeah mom, just super!” She can’t help but wince as her voice quavers nervously as she her eyes lock onto her skylight and bolting towards it, her heart beating a thousand kilometers a minute.

Not half a second after she wriggles halfway through the skylight and onto her roof, the trap door to her room opens slightly and her Maman’s voice float’s through the room “Marinette, you in here?” Concern clear as day in her tone.

Marinette lays flat on the roof, holding her breath and pressing against the side of the wall to make sure her maman doesn’t see her in this ridiculous get up, solely so she doesn’t die of sheer embarrassment.

After a few seconds, her Maman calls down to her Papa, the trapdoor to Marinette’s room clicking softly “Tom! She isn’t here, you *do* remember seeing her come through, right?”

Marinette releases a sigh, her shoulders slumping as she turns to look up at the sky. It’s filled with dust clouds.

This is... the weirdest day to ever happen. Hopefully, oh *gods* she hopes that this is all a dream and she’ll wake up on the first day of school again.

How would anyone believe her if she were to tell them that someone got their hands on a piece of jewelry connected to a magical being, and now has the ability to sense and manipulate people’s *emotions* so that they can do their dirty work. That someone who was experiencing *normal human emotions* was turned into a literal rock monster that is unstoppable. How is she supposed to tell anyone that she, in her ladybug onesie, yo-yo, and apparent powers to create *anything* and a partner, who apparently has the powers of *destruction* are supposed to get this piece of jewelry back.

Oh wait, of course, how could she forget, she *can’t* tell anyone. And even if she wanted to, they’d just think she was crazy and throw her into a mental institution.

Granted, Marinette is pretty sure she has gone crazy.

All Marinette wants to do is lay down and sleep. Why can’t she just do that? Just lay down on this rooftop and close her eyes and let the world around her melt away.

Wake up tomorrow on the first day of school and only worry about Chloe being a bully, and not about all this ancient magic and manipulation and the fact that she’s one of the two people who have to take care of it.

Wait…

Suddenly, Marinette sits upright, eyes blown wide. She’s 13 years old! She just started her first year in college! She’s got a family! She can’t be dealing with magic and ancient rituals and evil guys who are likely looking to kill everyone and are in their 40’s and likely living in their mom’s basement because they prefer shouting at kids over the computer and what if her partner is an adult! Will they just laugh at her and pick her up and set her aside and treat her like a little kid who can’t do anything and possibly take whatever it is that’s in her ears?

How is she supposed to fight a fricking rock monster that’s 12 meters tall??

Especially with a fucking *yo-yo!*

She flops back down onto her back and lets out a noise that’s a rough cross of a frustrated, overwhelmed, depressed sob/sigh. Of course, of course this is her life. She gets stuck with Chloe for 4 years straight and the gods decide that that’s not good enough, so they stick her with this.

Maybe Chloe knocked her out and she’s in a coma and this is all just going to melt away and she can press charges against the bully and be done with her and move on in life?

But, she can hear the screaming of the people below, she knows that people are being hurt, really badly. No matter how badly she doesn’t want to, she has to go. If she was given this, if she was trusted with this, no matter how absolutely crazy that is, she needs to do this.

“Okay... okay, so I have… I have super powers, and I have to fight a super powered monster.” She sighs again. She was just supposed to have the first day of school, not some... some super power mash up battle!

She pulls the yo-yo from her waist and glares at it. This little thing is supposed to be her weapon. This little yo-yo that is only just barely large enough that she can’t fit her hand around it. This is going to keep her safe. Because that’s not unrealistic.

Experimentally she lets it fall down and back to her hand a few times. She was never really good with yo-yos before, so she isn’t really all that hopeful about her fighting skills with it, but it feels really smooth and light, she can barely feel the weight.

So far, it seems to be really easy to use. Maybe, maybe she could try that trick... around the world, was it?

She lets it fall to the ground once more, the zip of the line oddly satisfying, and moves her arm back and forth, getting a feel for how it feels while in motion. Then, she tries to swing it up, but instead of flying into her hand, it’is sent flying out to the horizon, a metallic zip resounding from the yo-yo, getting quieter and quieter.

For a second, Marinette just stares at it, then she hangs her head. Great, now how is she supposed to get it ba-

The string suddenly goes taught, as if the yo-yo has itself anchored around something.

She just stands there, staring at the now taught string in awe, her jaw open.

She reaches her other hand out to touch the string, and finds that it feels like a steel cable, strong and sturdy.

She has to try to get her yo-yo back, no point in wasting any more time.

She hesitantly takes a step back and takes a deep breath before gently pulling on the strin- She’s pulled off her feet, her arm burning at the shoulder, wind whipping past her ears, her eyes closed, and a yelp being ripped from her throat before it’s lost to the wind

Silently, Marinette thinks back through everything she’s ever done wrong and vows to make it all better. After a moment of praying to all the gods she can think of, she opens her eyes and… finds all the buildings rushing by to be soothing. It’s all beautiful in its own right. Like watching the countryside fly by while on a plane.

Marinette glances upwards again and whimpers as she realizes that she’s hurtling toward a stone pillar at speeds comparable to that of highway traffic. Panic rising through her entire being once more, Marinette attempts to twist herself out of the way, but soon realizes that that is completely useless as she is flung past the spot the yo-yo anchored itself to. But, by some strange miracle that is the universe’s sense of humor, the yo-yo unravels from the pillar, making it so that there is not a Marinette shaped pancake on the side of the pillar. A scream follows her as she flies through the air at speeds no teenager should ever be going without some way to be saved, the yo-yo trails behind like an overeager puppy.

As she is flying through the air, the ground growing ever closer, her screaming never ceasing, she sees a small, moving black figure. In the blink of an eye, though to her it feels like it is all in slow motion, she’s colliding with this figure, toppling them both to the ground.

They get halfway to the ground when something thin and strong wraps around them both and they’re snapped back upward, swinging side to side. Marinette finds herself looking into bright green eyes with cat-like pupils that have been blown as wide as a euro cent.

“Well, hey there! Nice of you to drop in!”

Immediately, Marinette finds every aspect of this person annoying. The voice, the tone, the eyes, the hair, the cat ears, the *puns*. She rolls her eyes and moans.

Wait, cat ears…

Of course, *of course* her partner ran with the whole animal theme. She just hopes that he isn’t a weirdo.

But the puns make it hard to think he’s sane in any sort of way.

She pulls her head back and looks over her partner, who looks to be a boy.

From the looks of things, he seems to have a better sense of style than Tikki does. His suit is all black, judging from the subtle cracks it seems to be leather. There are boulbous guard like… *things* on his wrists and ankles, but she honestly thinks they serve more as attachable weights than anything else. And, on point with the animal theme, he’s got a belt that seems to be some sort of tail.

But… he’s got a bell on his chest, a large one at that. Who would, who would choose to wear that? Especially with the style of his suit! It clashes so badly.

Shaking her head, she pushes her feelings aside. He’s her partner, she can’t be holding grudges. Especially ones based solely off of fashion. “I’m sorry, I didn’t do this on purpose.”

She looks into her partner's eyes and is astounded to see that he… looks lost and confused and slightly uncomfortable with her looking him over, despite how he sounded a second before. But that look is gone in a flash, replaced with the smugness of knowing one is attractive. Her cheeks heat up.

Not that he is attractive. Especially in that black leather and toned body. Not at all. Her cheeks are red because she’s embarrassed that he thinks she was doing *that*.

Their swinging is slowing down, and this boy, who based off of what Tikki has told her, is most likely the Black Cat wielder. He raises- lowers?-- quirks an eyebrow. Er, well, his mask moves in a way that suggests he is quirking an eyebrow. It’s hard to tell when you’re nose to nose with someone and swinging and upside down, and their face is covered by a black mask. “While I’m flattered at you checking me out,-”

“I- I wasn’t- that’s not-”

“I’m afraid I have to ask you to rein in your rope please?”

Marinette’s face is as hot as the sun, and she’s sure that she could power her house with the heat, her hands splaying out at her sides as she frantically tries to stop her arms from flailing around. “It’s not- this- i wasn’t-” she cuts herself off as his other eyebrow is quirked. She sighs, defeated. She isn’t going to be going anywhere with this conversation.

Looking away from his all-too-piercing eyes, she maneuvers her hand around to try to grab at the yo-yo string. But in her flustered state, it takes her a few tries to get her fingers around the thin string. Once she has a firm grip, she tugs on it and promptly realizes that she didn’t think this all the way through and both her and her partner find themselves falling toward the ground.

Marinette lands on her back, staring up at the sky, wondering what she did to the universe to deserve this treatment, all the while, the Black Cat wielder lands on all fours and stands up, dusting off his leather suit like he’s at some sort of high-end bachelor party. “I bet you’re the wielder of Creation that my kwami told me about! You know, my partner?”

“Oh, ah, yeah. Yeah, I guess I am. Who- what’s your name?” she stutters out, silently cursing the way her mouth absolutely refuses to cooperate with her tongue, still laying on her back, staring at the yo-yo silently swinging like a pendulum. Counting down the seconds until she dies from embarrassment. Absently wondering how the yo-yo managed to wrap around the… silver pole, that wasn’t there before! It must be her partner’s doing.

“Huh, oh, uhh.” He turns from her, a hand moving to his chin as he thinks with a near silent hum. This in turn gives her time to stand up and look more closely at him, absentmindedly trying to get her yo-yo back.

He’s standing with perfect posture, as though he has a stiff back, and his hair is sticking up all over the place. His suit looks like leather, but it has a subtle hexagonal pattern to it, so it’s clearly not leather. He looks to have some sort of padding riveted to his forearms.

He’s got some combat boots that are apparently as skin tight as the rest of his suit, and protruding from the boots are silver bulbs that resemble cat paws.

The belt she had seen before is wrapped around his waist, and is swinging behind his feet in little circles, like it’s excited and curious but doesn’t want to show it and it’s having a hard time concealing it. In her opinion, the tail is entirely too long, if it were completely flat, the last few decimeters would be laying flat on the ground.

His eyes are pure green, except for black, and his pupils have shrunk and look like cats pupils. A black domino mask frames his eyes, hiding his identity. Unlike hers, which only really covers her eyes and some of her forehead, his covers most of his forehead (or what you can see of his forehead) as well as the entirety of his nose aside from his nostrils.It only serves to make his eyes pop out more, makes them more unnerving. No human should have cat eyes.

Did his alien-kwami being thing change his eyes or is it the mask or is this just some weird fettish?

The black cat ears on his head look to be made of the same material as his suit, and they twitch agitatedly every now and then, his eyes twitching subtly-

“Chat!” He says, almost shouts, cutting off her thoughts as he whips around to face her, earning a squeak of surprise from Marinette. He’s bouncing ever so slightly in his place, hands balled into fists, like a little kid. “Chat Noir. My name is Chat Noir” He puffs his chest out, putting his hands on his hips, a smug grin on his lips.

He looks so proud of himself that she decides not to burst his bubble by commenting on how his name literally means “Black Cat”. All she can do is nod her head, and try to hold back her laughter while trying to untie her yo-yo from the metal pole she believes she toppled Chat from.

What is she going to do with her life…

“What’s yours?” He asks, leaning in towards her, teasing curiosity in his tone, his eyebrows wiggling.

“Oh, uh... I’m Ma-” she gives the line another tug and it springs from the bar, unwinding with unnatural speed. She watches in muted horror as it hits him on the head cutting her off as he lets out a yelp of pain. His cat ears go flat as his hands fly to his head.

“...Madly clumsy... I’m so clumsy...” she finishes as he furiously rubs the spot the yo-yo hit his head, crouched down low to the ground.

“Are you okay?” Marinette asks, reaching a hand out hesitantly.

“Yeah, I’m-“ He’s cut off from saying anything as an enraged roar rips through the air, accompanied by a building in the distance crumbling to the ground. Effectively startling them both, Chat Noir jumps a meter into the air, while Marinette’s arms flail as she jumps back. Soon after screams can be heard.

Marinette turns to her cat-like partner again, and is concerned to see him covering his ears with tears in his eyes.

“...Chat,” she starts cautiously, taking a step toward her partner. “Are-”

“S-seems we have momentarily forgotten the monster we are supposed to be fighting, no?” He cuts her off, his voice wavering while he struggles to stand upright. It looks like he’s in pain.

She reaches out to put a hand on his shoulder but jerks her hand back when he flinches. Shit, she hurt him with the yo-yo and now she’s touched him when he’s in pain, she should have known he doesn’t want to be touched, she usually doesn’t like to be touched when she’s in pain oh gods he hates her and he doesn't want to be her partner anymore- She knew this was a bad idea, she should have given the earrings to Alya, she would know what to do, she wouldn’t hurt her new partner.

Chat shakes his head and smiles at her, though it feels forced. He takes a moment to steady himself before he jumps up to grab onto the bar above them. After a second, the bar disappears and he falls to the ground again, a small, 26 centimeter cylinder in his hand.

He looks at her and nods toward where the screams are coming from. “C’mon, lets go save the day.” He looks better, but she can still see his eyes slightly shining, his ears are flat to his head and his tail is agitated.

He points the cylinder to the ground and moves his thumb and then Chat is over the rooftops, a 2 meter long pole where the silver cylinder used to be.

Leaving Marinette angry and confused, staring at her yo-yo. Why does he get a cool tool?

A second later, his head pops back up over the rooftop, his head tilted to the side, ears flopping with his head. “You coming, Clumsy Girl?”

“Y-Yeah, just give me a second.”

He nods and turns around.

Marinette furrows her brow. His attitude gives her pause, he’s coming off as... as cocky and flippant and just... he rubs her the wrong way. But he’s hiding something, something is off about his actions, and by the gods she will find out what it is.

Marinette brings her yo-yo up to look at. Such a small thing, not any feasible way to fight with it, except for like… flinging it at people and hoping she hits them? But she has crap aim.

Such a stupid weapon, and yet it carries with it such large responsibility and challenges. “Trust yourself...” she mutters to herself. “Just trust yourself.”

Reluctantly, she drops the yo-to to the ground, swinging it around to build momentum. As she’s staring at it, the red/pink blur it creates mesmerizes her... until another deafening roar meets her eardrums.

She shakes her head, and throws her arm out, slinging the yo-yo up and over the rooftops. “Just gotta trust yourself, Marinette.” She mutters once again before tugging on the string and is pulled through the air with another yelp.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fan fic #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #trans girl! adrienne #trans boy! marinette #wintertundra-art's trans au #my writing #miraculous rewrite #Origins #Sneak peak

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