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The Menagerie

Summary:

Chloé had what she could only describe as the best bad luck in the world. Her best friend gets to come to school? He forgets about her. Her mother comes home? Her attention is immediately focused on Dupain-Cheng. She loses Pollen, after the worst Akuma she's ever been turned into, then finds a Miracle Box.

These are the stories of the many faces of Chloé Bourgeois, here in the Menagerie

Notes:

My first fanfic on here, please be gentle.

Chapter 1: A fateful walk

Chapter Text

Chloé Bourgeois was steaming mad. Absolutely furious. Incredibly angry. Normally, this would be a reason to run for the hills, to cover your ears and prey the shrieking tirade ended soon. Normally, this would result in an Akuma rising from the depths of Hawkmoth's twisted imagination, coming to try and strike down the hero's of Paris, only to be dispatched by a couple of teens in tight fitting cloathing.

Today, however, was anything but normal.

Today had been the day of the Miracle Queen. The day she had finally gotten her beloved hairpin back. When she became Queen Bee once more, if even for a few wonderful moments of pure acceptance.

Today was the day, she lost that for good.

It was infuriating. It was ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!

And yet a small part of her, deep inside, knew why she was lashing out, why she was trying desperately to claw her anger into everything she owned.

It was heartbreaking.

With a snarl, the fallen queen of paris stood, grabbing her purse as she stood, walking into the Hall as she ignored Jean-Whatever's voice calling after her, the worry ("the only worry I'll hear today." A treacherous part of her mind hissed) in his voice nearly making her pause before her anger overcame her again. Walking out the door of her family's hotel, she ignored her lobey dovey parents, ignored the mutters and pointed looks, and kept walking, moving deeper into Paris as she looks for something, ANYTHING to distract her.

Almost like it was summoned by her very will, chloe turned a corner to see a tourist trap, a line of stalls and shops ment to entice the eye with cheap fakes, little knick knacks, and keychains. A place that repulsed Chloé to her very core.

The perfect place noone would look for her as she tried to spend her feelings away.

With a snarl, Chloé entered into the lines of stalls, hand firmly on her purse as she stalked the back road stalls for anything that could catch her eye. Trying to find somthing that could replace ("cant replace, never replace, can only fill" her heart whispered in pain) the hole she felt, to plug the fountain of anger in her soul.

She really should have gone somewhere else. Even as she stalked like a be eating bear, hawkers tried to get the fallen Queen's attention, pushing their wares forward to catch her eye as she scolded, the cold in her heart growing even as her body burned with anger, until finally she found an outlet.

The moment someone bumped inti her side, she whirled, claws out and ready to tear into her target woth sheer rage and spite as she found herself looking into.... A familiar pair of bluebells.

"Dupen-Cheng." Chloe hissed like a stuck cat, her eyes narrowing as the girl frantically backed up, deep blue hair almost the color of ink bouncing a bit as she tried to avoid the laserlike gaze of her old tormenter. "You are not someone i want to deal with today. Beat it." She growled, imediatly catching a few other people's attention as they turned. Feeling the eyes on her, those judging stares, Chloé flipped her hair, glare pointedly locked on Dupain-Cheng as she quickly scrambled away.

A hypocrite, as always. Telling her to lay off of others, yet never standing up for herself when it mattered. Clumsy as the day was long, but somehow with a natural grace that infuriated her.

Always asking if others were okay, but never even giving Chloé a concerned look.

With a scoff, Chloé moved down a different back road, ignoring her target in favor of trying to lose her pent up agresdion without causing ANOTHER Akuma. That would have just been the peak of her day then and there.

Little did either girl know just how fate had changed that day.

In one world, Marinette would have continued into the same alleyway Chloé had just walked down, coming across somthing incredible that would increase her already high stress levels, soon resulting in her Akumatization, and the eventual defeat of Chat Noir, who fell waiting for a partner that would never come.

In this world, however, it was Chloé who stumbled across the back alley jewelry store. It was Chloé who saw the familiar looking box on a shelf.

It was Chloé who, in a state of desperation she never knew dhe could have, ran inside and bought the expensive jewelry box, filled with odd little pieces that the man running the shop said were cursed. "They cause conflict wherever they go. If your sure you want that, 400 Euro." He said, Chloé tossing him the money without a second thought as she took the box, all but fleeing back to her room in her hotel.

After all, she didn't want anyone to know about her new Miracle Box.

Chapter 2: Pandora's Box

Summary:

The Box is opened, the Conflict unleashed

Chapter Text

As Chloé looked down at her prize, the princess of paris could only smile, energy coursing through her veins as she looked at the octogonal shape. It was different then the one she held before. Bigger, with more sides. A minoor detail that tickled her mind as she slowly moved her hands to the lid, gently prying it open as she looked at the inner padding. A slow, eager smile, like a child opening a christmas present, came over Chloé’s face as she looked into the first two circles.

A central seal, just like where she knew the Ladybug and Black Cat had been, rested in the center of the box, but larger. A four piece circle looked back at her, symbols looking nothing like the Miraculous of Creation and Destruction. A budding plant, a fireball, a leaf, and a snowflake stared at her from the center of the box as her eyes traced over the inner six Major Miraculous, ignoring the pop out drawers for now.

As she took in their colors, a confused look crossed her face. “Why…” she muttered, tracing the fabric of one side, and then the other. No, she was seeing that right. One side was a mixture of blacks, with the other being a mirror in whites. In the top right, a green Hair Clip that looked like an emerald wing sat in a dark, forest green colored felt section, while on the bottom left a small pocket watch on a chain rested, an image of a sloth of all things resting on its face as it itself rested in a lime green padded triangle. left and right center were an even odder pair.. A medallion necklace in the darker side, that seemed like metal, woven around an ant rested in a fabric Chloé could only call blood-like. Meanwhile, on the right side, the miraculous was an anklet, seemingly held together by a large beak that looked to be made of silver resting in the pinkest fabric she had ever seen, even outshining Dupein-Cheng’s wallpaper. The final pair were just as odd, resting in sections of orange fabric at the top left and bottom right. In the lighter orange, that almost looked like a fresh soda, sat a beautiful broach, a silver crane with its wings spread, looking like it would take off any moment. In the darker orange was a choker, a bronze fish of some kind resting dead center over it, glinting against the deep orange fabric it rested on.

“The other box didn't look like this…” Chloé muttered, her mind drifting back to the comments about how the box of jewelry was cursed. “These…. none of these look like the others. What in the world…” she muttered, hand reaching out to touch the medallion.

The moment it touched her fingers, Chloé felt a rush of power surge through her, a Kwami instantly appearing over the medallion she now clutched firmly in her hands as she looked at it.

This Kwami looked almost nothing like Pollen. Instead of soft, fluffy curves, this creature looked chiseled from obsidian, black chiton glinting as it studied her. a pair of ridged anteni rested on its furrowed brow as its twin compound eyes rested on her, its little mandibles twitching.

“So,” the Kwami spoke, a deep voice rattling through her bones that made her wince rumbling from him. It sounded like a rockslide slamming into the earth. “You are the new caretaker for the Box of Conflict? I am not impressed.” The little god said, the words taking a moment to process as Chloé blinked.

“The box of… conflict?” Chloé asked slowly, earning an incredulous look from the bug eyes Kwami.

“You don't even- what are they training Caretakers these days?!” the tiny god hissed, earning another wince from Chloé. “For lack of better words, this box is a trap. Every major Miraculous in this box is paired with its opposite, meaning if they only take one, then you can counter them. Take myself, for example.” He said, motioning to himself. “My Name is Bullot, The Kwami of Conquest, and War!” he said, his voice full of pride as Chloé’s eyes widened. “Meanwhile, this, useless sack of feathers,” he muttered, slowly floating down to glare at the anklet. “Is Ditzi, Kwami of Peace and Calm. My rival, my opposite. I abhor being in the same box as her, but i know that if she weren't there, it would be much harder to stop me.” he grumbled, Chloé’s mind whirling as she started to realize just what she had.

A Miracle Box full of Kwami that could only counter each other, and had no real outside counter..

“S-so, what about these Kwami.” Chloé choughed, trying to process what she had just heard as she tapped the central seal. the one she hasn't opened yet.

“Ah, the crowning conflict.” Bullot said, nodding slowly. “The Kwami of Seasons. Yiin, Yung, Demis and Bles. Fall, Spring, Winter and Summer respectively.” The ant Kwami listed, Chloé taking a small, stumbling step back as her eyes widened.

What had she just gotten herself into?

Chapter 3: Turn Back the Clock

Summary:

A bit of explanation, and a lot of things going wrong.

Chapter Text

“Kid. Kid. Come on kid, your killing me.” Bullot sighed, floating around Chloé’s hotel room, lazily nibbling on a chocolate of some sort he had stolen from somewhere. “You're a Conqueror, you’ve taken over all of Paris before! you can't tell me you don't want to do it again. Once you’ve taken over a city, you realize how easy it is! Come on, Transform with me and we can take over this town!” The ant Kwami groaned, just like he had been for the past week after Chloé had picked up his necklace from the box. It was annoying, especially since he just wouldn't. leave.

“For the last time, I won’t be a villain! not again!” Chloé said, her face set in a snarl as she glanced at the silver necklace on her dresser. “Why are you even still here anyways! I’ve tried taking off your Miraculous, shoving it in a safe, ive even put it back in the stupid box! why would you disappear like Pollen did!” Chloé hissed, eyes narrowing.

“Oh, thats easy. We Kwami of the Box of Conflict are supposed to be traps for thieves. Kind of hard to be a trap if you can just shut up the alarm. We have a lot less restraints on us. For one, we dont return to our Miraculous once we’re taken off. The moment your skin makes contact, it's bound to you, and you can't get us to leave until you die. Makes it easier to keep track of a thief if there’s a tiny god sitting on his head to anyone who can hear it that he IS a thief.” Bullot mused, taking another bite of chocolate as Chloé slowly closed her eyes, massaging her temples, annoyed both by his antics, and the homework she was trying to concentrate on over his yammering..

“So, until I die, you're sticking around?” She sighed, earning a chuckle from the gravel voiced Kwami.

“Well, until you die or a new wielder claims us. But then you would lose access to us until you took us back. And with powers like ours, that's a bad thing.”

“I don't even know what your powers are. Nor do I want to.” Chloé sighed, shaking her head as she looked at the bug. “Just… stay here in my room when i'm not wearing the necklace? I don't want Ladybug or Chat Noir finding me because you're hanging around.” she said, her voice tired as Bullot frowned, nodding his head.

“Normally, that wouldn't fly. We’re supposed to be a trap, after all. But you are our guardian, seeing as you own the box and all, so i guess i should.” The ant said, earning a relieved sigh from Chloé as she stood, stretching out as she left the Biology homework behind. Give her maths any day, she could run those like a racetrack, but science clogged up her brain like nothing else.

“Gonna put anything interesting on? im bored.” Bullot grumbled, earning a look from Chloé as she sat on her couch, leaning back as she turned on the T.V. to the local news.

“No, I'm just looking up what's going on in Paris before I go out.” She said, her voice still rumbling with a bit of annoyance as she ignored his complaints about ‘Boring politics and general paris news’. She was going out for lunch today because she felt the need to get out of her room, and like heck she would move an inch if there was an Akuma attack.

Almost as if summoned by her thoughts, the ground shook, a small smoke cloud coming from… the department stores?

“What in the world…?” Chloé muttered, eyes narrowing as she looked at the smoke cloud, and then the T.V.

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

*Approximately 5 minutes before*

Victor was having a bad morning. Working in retail, this was a common occurrence. The workplace even had a running bet of who would be Akumatized first. So far, no one had claimed the pool by Akumatizing on the job, but there had been some close calls. Thankfully, when those little black bugs showed up, most people scrambled away and hoped it found someone else.

But that was a different matter, one he was only thinking of because he needed to do SOMETHING besides listen to the woman at his counter as she ranted and raved.

“Just Accept my return, and we can all go home! how is this so hard?!” the woman screeched, hurting his ear as Victor felt his brow twitch. Accept the abuse, Keep smiling. Those were the rules.

“Ma’am, I can't accept this return because this is the wrong receipt. it's not even listed on there.” The tired retail worker said, shaking his head as he dug out his trusty receipt maker. “Do you have the date you bought the item? i can try to find the right one and print it out for you.” he offered, trying desperately to calm her down.

Of course, like many things in retail worker’s lives, this backfired.

“Of course i don't! Do I look like I pay attention to these types of things?! Get me your manager!” the woman shouted back, Victors eyes closing both to avoid any spray, and to try and calm himself down.

“Again ma’am, she’s currently out. i can try to contact her but she’s on break and i don't know if she’ll answe-” he started, before his eyes widened as he ducked under a slap that would have torn his cheek open with those nails.

“Stop lying to me you lazy brat! You just don't want to do the work they barely pay you for.” The woman sneered, as Victor felt something… give.

In an instant, he knew he had made a mistake, but he didn't care as he rose to his full teenage height, preparing to let loose with the most vitriolic cursing he had ever let loose, before his eyes locked on the oncoming black butterfly.

He had mere moments before it landed on his receipt maker, barely enough time for a thought to cross his mind before it settled onto it.

‘Well, I guess I won the prize’ were his last conscious thoughts before he heard it.

Everyone described hawkmoth differently. A buigiling trickster, a forceful thief, a sympathetic ear. but all of them agreed that once he had you in his grasp, it was over.

‘Rollback, I offer you the chance to show this woman, and all of those like her, their true actions. A chance to clear your name, and ruin her's in the process. All you have to do, is bring my Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous!’

“Yes Hawkmoth…” Vict- no, Rollback agreed, standing tall as he clipped his Receipt maker to his belt, his body being enveloped by a dark aura as his weight shifted, becoming just a bit more… awkward. But he could move. With a smile, he reached over to the now frightened woman and dragged something only he could see from her, feeding it into the machine at his belt as it began printing out a long list of things.

“Hmm, quite a laundry list of people you've beaten down like this. Lets see how you like it.” Rollback said, a smile on his black and white face as he traced a finger over a few names on the receipt.

In a flash, three retail workers appeared, their forms a bit blurry but still entirely recognizable as they rushed the now screaming woman, chasing her as she fled from the store.

With a smile, he looked at a nearby mirror, placed there for reasons he didn't know, probably product examination. But now, it served to let him look at himself.

His body, from his skin to his clothing to even his eyes, were in shades of black and white. From his striped suit, to his dress shoes, to even his slicked back hair and wide grin revealing black teeth in a pure white mouth. He was taller then he had been, standing a good 6 foot instead of his usual 5’2”. He hated being short, and apparently his Akuma had picked up on it.

“Now, lets see.” Rollback mused, grinning as he pulled at the building’s History, feeding it into his receipt machine as he looked over it. “Ah, here we go. Called in a repair team just in time to fix a potentially devastating gas leak in the cooking section.” he mused, grinning as he clicked his fingers, running it over the line as the building shook. An explosion rattled the store as he walked out, whistling a happy little tune.

If that didn't draw the heroes out, nothing would.

Chapter 4: The Fire Inside

Summary:

The Akuma's true powers revealed, and it sparks somthing in Chloé.

Chapter Text

    “-yes, it is a confirmed Akuma, descriptions coming in now.” the reporter, a new girl who had probably come in when the old one had gotten tired of being a target, announced, the camera angle changing to show the front of the department store, some middle class place that barely caught her attention. There, dead center and looking at his wrist like he was checking a watch, was the Akuma. Black and white and twisted all over.

 

    “Ah, I knew Nooro had it in him. He just needed the right wielder.” Bullot mused, Chloé’s eyes immediately shooting to him as she raised a brow, quickly catching his attention. “What? Because of my abilities we’re almost cousins. We just have differences of opinion over most things.” The ant Kwami said, shrugging his tiny shoulders as Chloé ignored him once more, turning her eyes back to the screen as she heard the words she had been waiting for.

 

    And yes, it looks like Ladybug and Chat Noir are on the scene!” The reporter said, a smile appearing on her face as the camera stayed locked on the battle, showing Chat Noir leaping into battle almost immediately, the mangy cat’s moves being easily dodged by the akuma as Ladybug circled around, looking for an opening.

 

    “They must be cautious about this one if they're using the scissor strike.” Chloé mused dryly, watching ladybug lunge, hand aiming for the obvious Akuma item, the receipt machine, as Chat Noir tried to keep the monochrome menace contained.

 

    Tried being the operative term.

 

    In a flash, a small receipt printed itself from the machine, the akuma’s hand reaching out to snag something in the air as, in an instant, the two heroes were back where they started at the beginning of the battle.

 

    What?! how did he do that!” Chat said, wide eyed as he looked at the grinning akuma, the shorter recept in his hand burning away as he tossed it to the side.

 

    “ah, that's gonna come to bite him. Looks like he can only use one of those paper strips at a time.” Bullot noted, earning a raised brow from Chloé as she looked at him. “It was obvious in the execution. He let them get close, probably to grab something from one of them, before using his weird rewind-without-time powers to send them back. listen, i'm sure he’ll say something. Champions can't keep their gobs shut.” 

 

    And lo and behold, the answer came. “ Well, I just thought you must have used a lot of time and energy paying for those movements, so I returned them to you! of course, you can't get something for nothing.”   The Akuma taunted, eyes glittering in malice and mischief as he drew out an incredibly long receipt. It dragged the ground, and only seemed to be growing longer before finally, the machine clicked closed, cutting off the paper as the Akuma took it in his hands.

 

    In an instant, the duo lunged, Chat Noir lunging for the paper and ladybug lunging for the printer, both aiming to end the fight then and there, or at least stop his plan.

 

    and now, i think i’ll return a few of these victories. ” The Akuma said, as he swiped his finger like he was using a smartphone instead of dragging a finger across paper.

 

    In an instant, Ladybug was forced back as a swarm of wasps appeared, Chloé’s eyes widening before narrowing dangerously as she saw a blurry copy of her… no, not of her. Of Miracle Queen. She appeared between the new akuma and Ladybug.

 

    “And just like that, the battle turns.” Bullot said, drawing Chloé’s eyes away from that disgusting copy of herself, of the reminder of her sins, as she looked at the now frowning Kwami, eyes roaming back to the screen as her eyes widened.

 

    One of which she had seen, all of Paris had seen on late night news and after action reports. A massive blue thing that looked startlingly like the tiny stature that had gone missing from the Louvre, and had later been reported to be a Sentimonster of all things. It had never said its name, but with how it ate, the media had dubbed it Glutton, only to be corrected by Ladybug to call it Feast.

 

    The other though… that one was worrying. For many reasons, but the main one was that she had never seen it before.

 

    and a white Chat Noir would have been hard to miss. Especially with how ladybug had given a full body flinch when she had seen it.

 

    she had definitely recognized it.

 

    “Well, now they're outnumbered two to one.” Bullot mused, giving a sidelong glance to his Guardian and Wielder. “i bet they could really use some backup. Especially the kind of backup I can supply.”

 

    Chloé thought about it for all of two seconds, before her eyes drifted to the copy of Queen Wasp. In that instant, her mind was set, and rage filled her vision. How dare this Akuma use her face, use her failure, mock her like this! “Tell me your power.” She hissed, earning a smile from Bullot.

 

    “Well, it's a long, complicated answer. it could take hours to get all the fine details ou- HRK! ” the Kwami started, before the air was almost crushed out of it as Chloé snatched him from the air. The anger in her eyes was palpable, and her eyes spoke of death.

 

    “make. it. simple.” she breathed, and she saw the Kwami’s eyes light up.

 

    “There she is.” He said, grinning as he slipped from her grip in an instant, making her blink. she had held him as tight as she could, how had-? “There’s the girl i knew you still had inside you! The Conqueror of Paris! oh i’ve been trying to bring her out all week!” he said, earning further narrowed eyes and a raised brow. “Right, right, my powers. Well, for a short answer, it's sort of a mix between the Bee, Peacock, And Butterfly. You make an item, and can give it up to five orders. Then, give it to someone. they will follow those orders to their dying breath, or until the ant you give them is Purified. Easy enough, right?” He said, giving a grin as Chloé raised an eyebrow.

 

    “Two things. First, anyone? It can affect anyone at all?” she asked, getting a curious look and a nod from the Kwami. “Allright. Second, I can see how that reacts to the butterfly and the bee, champion making and subjugation and all. but how in the world does it relate to the peacock?”

 

    “That's an easy one. Unless that ant is purified, it’ll continue to exist, even when you're not transformed. It will last to the end of time, waiting to inject someone near it with the orders, and transform them into their idea of a warlord’s general.” Bullot said, earning a crooked brow.

 

    “I’ll ignore that last part for now. What's your transformation phrases?” She asked, though anyone with a brain could hear the order in her tone.

 

    “Latch on to activate, Release to, well, release the transformation. Power is called Soldier Ant.” Bullot said, earning a nod from Chloé as she walked over to her nightstand, picking up the silver pendant with a sigh.

 

    “i'm a hero. Even if it’s not with Pollen anymore, i'm still a hero.” she said, voice soft, a hint of pain in her tone as Bullot’s wild eye look faltered, a hint of understanding entering his face as she slipped his necklace on. “Bullot, Latch On!” she commanded, and the ant gave a whoop of joy as he dove into the medallion.

 

    In an instant, she felt the necklace click outwards, a glance down showing the ant had grown bigger, and the entire Miraculous had turned the same blood red as the fabric in the box. She could see the red energy covering her, racing down her arms to give her queen-like gloves, flowing down her body to make a flowing, regal looking dress that looked like it was made of silks. she felt a mask form on her face, the familiar domino eye holes forming as a weight fell on her head, and another hung at her waist.

 

   Looking at her mirror, she saw her mask, a crimson, smooth thing that looked more like it was part of her face then just resting there. on her head lay a crimson crown, form fitted to rest atop her head. And there, as her waist, sat a saber, crimson metal seeming to vibrate as she felt Bullot fill the space she normally felt Pollen in. (When it wasn't dreadfully empty.) With a smirk, Chloé started her plan. “Soldier Ant!” she commanded, holding out her hand as her Medallion glowed, the crimson ant pulling itself from the center of her miraculous and crawling to her palm, resting there. Waiting there.

 

   Waiting for orders.

 

   “Your orders are as thus.” Chloé said, feeling slightly ridiculous with her royal-like speech, but somehow knowing that if she didn't, the ant wouldn't listen. “Thy mind is thy own, and none can control it.” She said, feeling Bullot’s shock in her mind. her first order, and she had made it so that nothing could control the one she made into her soldier. “Thy shall fight, until the battle is done. Thy shalt not reveal me, nor mine identity. Thy shall support The Lady and her Knight, and are not to attack them. Thou shall not speak a word.” she ordered, watching the little ant nod before sighing. She knew the next part. She had to find someone angry enough to become her general. they had to be absolutely flowing with rage before the ant would bite.

 

   And so, she started thinking angry thoughts.

 

   As soon as it occurred to Bullot what she was doing, she felt his amusement, felt him laughing, as her mind turned to things that annoyed her. Angered her.

 

   The fact that she would never see pollen again did raise some anger, but mostly ticked at her sorrow. Thoughts of her life, of her school sparked annoyance, along with flashes of jealousy when blue crossed her mental vision.

 

   It wasn't enough, and she knew it.

 

   And so, her thoughts moved to Hawkmoth. Of how he manipulated her, of how he had told her just what she wanted to hear. Of how he had whispered of power, of acceptance, where Ladybug had shunned her. And, exploring that thought, there was more. Anger at Ladybug. Anger for not seeing her again and again, for ignoring her, even when her parents were on the line. Betrayal, for thinking she was a friend, and anger at herself for believing it.

 

   And there it was. There was the real anger. Before, all the kindling she had tossed on could have made a small campfire for one in the heat it brought out of her. But the moment she touched on herself… the moment she thought about herself, it had turned into a bonfire.

 

   She hated herself for what she had done, for causing more stress to her parents, her father who loved her even if he wasn't always there. She hated that she fell for that lying snake’s tricks, that she hadn't refused him like she had before. And she hated, absolutely HATED, the kind of person she was becoming. Because she was turning out to be just like her mother.

 

   As soon as that word crossed her mind, the ant struck, feeling the bonfire that was her rage growing out of control as her indignant rage flowed through her. She loved her mother, but she knew that love wasn't returned, and she H a t E D i T.

 

   In an instant, she felt the anger flow into the ant, felt it enforcing its rules upon her as it clambered up her arm, moving to rest right on her chest, right over her heart, as its mandibles struck, biting into her as its eyes flashed.

 

   More red power flowed over her, the orders robbing her of her words still allowing more than enough sound through for the roar of burning rage, and crushing pain to ring through her Suite, causing her ever faithful butler to rush to her air, running into her room and throwing the door open as he looked inside.

 

   The balcony doors were smashed open, broken to pieces and scattered across the veranda as something bright red flew through the air like a comet, heading straight for the fight still raging in the distance.

Chapter 5: Inferno

Summary:

The fight Rages on, and we see that power always comes with a price.

Chapter Text

    “You know,” Chat Noir said, leaping away from a lashing tongue from Feast, and just barely dodging the follow up strike from his white counterpart. And he knew it was him. He recognized the pain in those eyes, even if he had never seen it that deep in his mirror. “While white is a purrfectly good color, I don't really think it works for me. So why don't you just go back to whatever nightmare My Lady had you in.” Noir snarked, grinning as he lept forwards, his baton out and ramming into Blanc’s gut as his double stepped back, sapphire eyes narrowing.

 

    Your lady?! How dare you! she’s my lady, my love, my bugaboo! We’re soulmates, meant to be together!” Blanc ranted, nearly making Noir stumble as those words rang in his mind.

 

    He hadn't sounded like this, but hadn't he said something like this before?

 

    The sheer thought of sounding anything like this twisted puppet made his stomach churn, even as he used his staff to bat a swarm of forming wasp’s into Feast’s hungry maw, banishing them to the abyss that was his stomach.

 

    “After i'm done with you, i think i'm going to apologize to my- to Ladybug.” Noir said, a bit of disgust on his face as his normal pet name for his partner nearly choked him. “And then, I'm going to try and woo her the right way. No more arguments about soulmates from me.” He muttered, his eyes sharpening as he focused on this fight. On doing his duty, his job, to protect his partner. Because with the wasps buzzing around their heads, Feast’s tongue lashing out trying to catch them at every opportunity, and this fake’s little white bullets, he was having trouble.

 

    “Any ideas coming to mind, Partner?” Noir called, nearly slipping again as he used Feast like a springboard, avoiding his massive mouth as the Sentimonster got hit in the side by one of those little white bullets, actually scorching its skin as it roared out in pain.

 

    On the opposite side of the massive blue beast, Ladybug wasn't faring much better. Her mind was running a mile a minute, trying to find some way to the akuma, Rollback he had said while he had ranted as his minions charged. It seemed that every time she had tried to get close enough to grab the printer, the Miracle Queen copy got in her way. If she tried to pull back to make a Lucky Charm, then she would run almost headfirst into a swarm of wasps, or worse, Feast. The wasps she could at least smack out of the air, but if Noir hadn't tricked Blank into sphereing Feast’s tongue after it had grabbed her, she would have been caught. “I can’t get a clear shot! And I can't get enough time to use my Charm!” the spotted heroine called back, ducking a swipe of Miracle Queen’s weapon. “Any chance you can buy me some?”

 

    “Not without ending up somewhere i’d rather not be!” Noir replied, carefully watching Feast’s tongue from the corner of his eye as he squared off again with Blanc.

 

    “It's useless, Ladybug!” The copy Queen hissed, grinning maniacally. “One of us will get you, and then your Miraculous will belong to Hawkmoth!”

 

    “Over my dead body.” Ladybug said coldly, earning a smirk and a shrug from the false Queen.

 

    “Whatever way works.” the fake said, smiling maliciously as she lunged forward, trompo lashing out so the pointed tip was aiming right for her eye.

 

    Leaping away, Ladybug landed next to Noir, both panting as they backed away from the three copy Akuma, their eyes locking on a smirking Rollback as Noir groaned. “Feast and Miracle Queen were hard enough on their own, let alone this bad photocopy. If this goes on much longer, i might lose one of my nine lives.” He muttered, the morbid joke earning a look from Ladybug, even as a small smile tugged at her lips.

 

    “Well, we can't have that.” she said, before both of them heard that familiar “TWUMP” of Feast launching its tongue, the duo scattering to either side as Feast stood tall, preparing to charge between the two.

 

    And then, the massive beast paused, looking skyward with a puzzled frown on its massive mouth.

 

    “Miraculous?” it grunted, right before a flaming comet SLAMMED into the massive beast, fire coating its form as it screeched and roared in pain, everyone on the field pausing to stare in shock as the fireball seemed to pierce into the massive beast’s head, right through the symbol of the Guardians as fire licked the rest of its form. In a panic, the massive Akuma began flailing, roaring and moaning in pain as it frantically rolled, splitting the two groupf of combatants and buying the heroes some breathing room. Room Ladybug didn't hesitate to use.

 

    “Lucky Charm!” she called, throwing her yo-yo into the air with a hopeful expression, one that swiftly turned into exasperated confusion as, of all things a spray bottle landed in her hands, its weight signifying it was full of something.

 

    “Well, at least we have a counter to the white cat.” Chat Noir said, grinning a bit as his partner cracked another smile, both preparing to launch back into the battle, eyes locking on Feast, who had finally stopped burning and just… sat there. Unmoving.

 

    “Me-ouch. Talk about a splitting headache.” Noir muttered, wincing at the sight of a massive blade, at least as tall as he was, impaled into the center of Feast’s head, the center of the seal seemingly held in place by the pitch black blade. “Where did that even come from?”

 

    Almost as if in answer to his question, another fireball hit Feast, this one somehow grabbing the sword and running it down his tough back, making a line of fire and pain as Feast whimpered, the flames licking its skin as it tried to struggle to its feet, only to fall onto the ground again, form flickering and fading as a black line appeared on Rollback’s receipt, and the fading body revealed the intimidating form.

 

    They stood at least seven feet tall at the head, standing tall as the remains of their foe melted around them, their sword slung over their shoulder like it weighed nothing, clutched in a black armored hand. Black seemed to be this being’s style, as it were, as black armor rested gently on their frame, hiding most of them from view. it was a beautiful thing, if a bit intimidating. As the smoke cleared from the burning remains, they could see that the being, a woman if her figure said anything, stalked forward, grace in her every step as her black metal boots led her forward, not a sound to be heard. over her form, moving like muscles on a tiger, the rest of her armor shifted and moved. Black metal plates like scales covered her form, leading to her chestpiece, which didnt highlight much other than a small bustline, leading into a wicked looking helm. This was the only place that told them this person was human. While the top of her helm rested there, eye slits boring into the souls of those in front of her, the lower half was bare, revealing a sharp, yet feminine chin that looked to be as pale as the moon when compared to her pitch black armor.

 

    She was an intimidating sight, especially as the flames from around feast retreated, returning to the woman’s form and draping themselves over her, like a puppy rushing to its master, who had finally come home. With a small grunt, and a light smile, the woman rolled her shoulders, the light glinting off her armor highlighting something Noir hadn't seen before.

 

    There, resting right above where her heart would be, lay a medal. It looked welded to the armor, and yet also looked like a good yank could tear off the oddly shaped piece. It almost looked like the head of an ant.

 

    “What the- who are you!” Rollback yelled, hand moving to the receipt as he tried to call back out Feast, before he noticed the black line. “What did you do to my minion?! I can't call it back!”

 

    At those words, the entire area was treated to something both terrifying, and beautiful at the same time.

 

    She laughed.

 

    The seven foot tall woman who had just slaughtered a sentimonster that had to be destroyed at the item level the first time, laughed. It didn't fit her. Not at all. She looked like her voice should be gravel, or like sandpaper on wood.

 

    Instead, it was light, airy. Like windchimes on a calm breeze, or tinkling glass.

 

    And then a much, MUCH deeper laugh joined hers, as the ashes that were Feast began swirling, moving, forming behind her into the beast she had slain. A perfect copy of Feast, made from ashes, stared at its former comrades.

 

    And then, Woman and Monster, they charged.

 

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

 

    As the mysterious interloper held off the raging akuma’s two summons, Ladybug was contemplating, her vision going grey as her Spots Vision kicked in, highlighting her spray bottle, Noir’s claws, a nearby billboard, and finally, the receipt printer.

 

As she watched, thinking, it clicked. A grin spread over her face as she looked at her partner. “Chat, I need that billboard to fall.” she said, pointing towards the massive advertisement atop the department store they were battling in front of. “Cataclysm its supports from this side, then dodge.” she said, grinning as her partner nodded, an oddly serious look in his eyes as he leapt towards the wall, pole extending to take him to the top as her own eyes drifted to the fight again.

 

While the Feast copy was keeping Chat Blanc busy, Ladybug took special notice of the Ash Woman, as she had taken to mentally calling the figure. As she fought Miracle Queen, she ignored the wasps, ignoring their stings and the power they should have been wielding as she lunged forward, her mouth turning into an enraged snarl as she shoulder checked the false queen, her momentum carrying both of them into the wall of the building across the street, thereby further drawing the Akuma’s attention to her as her sword came swinging down.

 

In an instant, Ladybug had turned her face away, but that didn't stop that sickening Twack that resounded in her ears. Like an axe, that had gotten lodged in a tree. The sickeningly wet thud that came a few moments later didn't help. The real turning point that nearly made her lose her lunch was the fact that the false Queen’s slayer started laughing even louder, even as Rollback cursed her.

 

“How dare you! I swear, i’ll pull out the worst enemies you’ve ever fought and make you go through them again! I'll bring out your worst memories and pits of deepest despair. I! WILL! ….. What's that sound?” Rollback asked, looking up to see the billboard above leaning dangerously down, a small yelp escaping his threat as he turned towards his Chat Blanc. “Destroy it!” Rollback ordered, pointing to the billboard as Blanc turned in an instant, lining up the shot…

 

And then looking at the fiery blade that had just punched through the back of his costume, blue eyes blinking slowly as he fell to the ground, dissipating.

 

“No, no NO!” Rollback roared, tossing the receipt in his hands aside as he started printing a new one, a grin crossing Ladybug’s face as she brought up the bottle just as he ripped the receipt free. As he sent the billboard back where it belonged, she fired.

 

The moment the soapy water hit the printer on his waist, Rollback knew he was in deep.

 

“H-hey! Don't spray that! do you know how delicate these things can be?!” Rollback yelped, tossing the receipt away as he started trying to pull a new one free. Only, it was soaking wet with soapy water. the moment his hand yanked on it to take it out, it tore in half, immediately turning to cinders as his eyes widened, slowly turning to the pleasantly smiling Ladybug, and her smug little Chat.

 

Hearing a crunch behind him, rollback whirled, seeing the Ash woman standing menacingly behind him. Flinching back with a squeak, Rollback nearly tripped over his own two feet, taking a step back as she calmly grabbed the printer off his belt, not getting a lick of resistance from him as she began casually walking over to ladybug.

 

Handing over the printer, she raised a hand as ladybug prepared to drop it and smash it, reaching for the odd medal on her chest and grasping it before, with a gasp, ripping it free.

 

In that moment, two things happened.

 

That odd medal immediately folded out, turning into a writhing, snapping metal ant that tried desperately to escape the grip holding it.

 

And the intimidating 7 foot figure immediately shrunk, the armor and minions disappearing in puffs of smoke as her form shrank into a more natural size, her forehead barely coming up to Chat's eye level.

 

With a sigh, and a smile, she spoke. “That's much better. stupid thing wouldnt let me say a word.” She said, the angry undertone in her voice thrumming a bit as she handed the metal ant over to ladybug, who nearly dropped it. “That needs purification as well. wouldn't want anyone else to be bitten by it and turn onto that form.” she said, smiling gently as Ladybug nodded rapidly, eyes widening as she smiled.

 

“Thank you, for all your help.” she said, voice soft as the hero.. scoffed?

 

“I didn't do it for you.” she snapped, all traces of softness gone as a heat entered her words. “Seeing this… creature,” she snarled, looking at the cowering rollback. “Bringing other’s traumas back to life… angered me.” she said, voice dangerously thick with fire before she turned, preparing to leap away.

 

“Wait!” Ladybug called, wide eyed, before hearing her earrings give their second beep.

 

“Purify them, and get going. I have no more time for this.” The unnamed hero said, dismissive, before leaping away, disappearing into the city as Chat and Ladybug looked at eachother, the black cat simply shrugging as Ladybug sighed, dropping the receipt machine before crushing it underfoot, her yoyo snapping out as the butterfly took to the sky, and she barely remembered to toss the ant in as well before snapping it closed.

 

“No more evil for you two! Time to De-Evilize!” she called, smiling at the familiar catchphrase after an arduous fight. in a flash she reeled the two back in, tapping the lid to let them out.

 

Out flew the akuma, fluttering freely into the air, but surprisingly all that came out from the ant was a puff of metallic smoke, signifying the end of the Ash woman as they watched, perplexed.

 

And then she beeped again, and ladybug barely contained a yelp as she hastily tossed her Miraculous Ladybug and booked it, not even waiting around for the fist bump as she ran, chat noir nodding understandingly as he turned and ran himself.

 

They would do it during patrol later tonight. this wouldn't be the first time this had happened.

 

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

 

As Marinette collapsed in her chair, after barely making it to her balcony after a frantic flight, she couldn't help but look at the unusually silent Tiki, who was munching through cookies like a worried mother. 

“Tiki? What was with that Miraculous User we saw.” She asked, nearly making her kwami choke on a cookie. “The moment she took off the ant medal, you were radiating surprise, and a few other less pleasant emotions”

 

“Marinette, the medallion on that girl’s neck, the Ant Miraculous, is incredibly dangerous. It's part of a box of 22 miraculous total. Of those, 10 of them are meant to be traps. Every Major Miraculous in that box is Unstable, and they Unbalance their user badly.” Tikki said calmly, immediately bringing a worried look to Marinette’s face.

 

“Meaning if she only has the ant…” Marinette said slowly.

 

“Her anger will consume her, driving her mad, and then Bullot will add another name to his collection of tyrants.” Tikki said softly.

 

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

 

“Bullot! you little, hah, shit!” Chloé called from her bed, breathing like she had just run a marathon while clutching her head. “You didn't tell me how much that would hurt! And why is my head still ringing! I wasn't this exhausted after using Pollen!”

 

“It's simple.” Bullot said, sounding smug. “I'm not limited like she was. While your Ashen Lady was a good choice, and its rules were simple, they still cost magic. The more the rule breaks the natural world, the more power it drains. And, seeing as how when you use me, our pools are combined, it drains both of us.”

 

“What do you mean our pools are combined. Is that why I feel like shit?” Chloé groaned, sitting up just enough to give Bullot a look that promised pain, sending a shiver of delight up the Kwami’s spine.

“Well, let me explain to you about Miraculous. Now, normally, Miraculous have a time limit after using a special ability. This is because they only have a set amount of magic in them at one time. Normally, it's enough to keep going indefinitely while transformed, allowing for heroes to be heroes for days on end. But, bending the laws of the world takes energy, even for us gods. So, to make sure the transformations don't start draining your energy, the Miraculous had a countdown built in. When the beeping starts, you have five minutes of energy left before it forcibly turns off, so as to not start draining you.” The little ant lectured, earning an understanding grunt. “But we’re trapped. Why would we have that kind of limit? Of the ten Major Miraculous in that box, none of us have a time limit on our powers. But all of us drain the user's energy to compensate. Like me, give too many complex orders? Like trying to bend the universe to your will? It would drain you dry after the first order. if you had already made one before that?” He said, grinning as he suddenly started floating on his back, holding one of her flowers above him like he was resting in a coffin.

 

“Great. Wonderful. I use you once and feel like I need to sleep for a week after five orders. Note to self, one or two orders at a time.” Chloé muttered, turning over to start sleeping, ignoring Jean-claude as he ran in, looking and sounding frantic. She just wanted to sleep.

 

Chapter 6: Smouldering Ashes

Summary:

Life after being a villain isn't fun.

Chapter Text

The next morning found Chloé at the normal time, her body and alarm waking her at 5 AM, an ungodly hour to most, but perfectly reasonable to her. Well… normally reasonable to her. Today felt… different. Despite passing out much earlier than usual, and sleeping the afternoon and most of the night away, Chloé found herself tired, grumpy, and most importantly, disheveled. Her normally immaculate flowing blond locks turned into an unsightly ball of angry tangles and spiked wild strands. Noticing herself in a nearby mirror, she scowled, walking over to a drawer and starting to brush her hair, trying to tame it to its normal flowing state.

 

Trying being the operative word.

 

With a snarl, Chloé stopped messing with her hair, leaving it smooth as silk, and flowing, but not willing to try to wrestle it into a ponytail right now as she walked into her shower, ripping off her, urgh, sweat stained clothing before jumping in, quickly cleaning herself as she looked around the bathroom for anything amiss.

 

Most of it was like normal, immaculate tiles, soft towels, clean counter with only a few of the finest hair supplies, and her massive tub to one side of the room just as well polished as if it was made of gold, instead of porcelain.

 

So why, oh why, did she feel so angry? Like something was wrong, someone had touched something they shouldn't have and her carefully immaculate system, the one she spent hours going through, was disturbed.

 

As she washed, her hand scrubbing over herself, she found her fingers tangling in something, a chain around her ne- oh! Right. Bullot’s miraculous.

 

Bullot. She was still angry at the Kwami for not warning her about the possible repercussions. with a snarl, she all but tore off the necklace, cracking her neck a few times to get rid of the lingering stiffness that seemed to hold her body. “Bullot! Where are you, you little bastard. I'm not in the mood for this. I have school this morning, and I need to get my makeup fixed.” She groused, looking for the little god as her hand clutched his amulet. “We have things we need to discuss. Like how you didnt warn me I was risking my life. Or why I still have this Kwami damned headache!” she hissed, her eyes widening as she clapped a hand over her mouth, words registering in her mind.

 

Had she been swearing? That… she was better than that. Her father had taught her better than that, her mother saying she was above such things. Exceptional people didn't swear. They didn't curse, fight, and thrash, they simply looked imperious and made those who had wronged them wish they were dead instead.

 

“You rang, My Empress?” Bullot purred in his gravelly voice, her eyes darting to the black chitoned Kwami as he floated there, a smile on his face. She wanted to rip that smile off of him, throw him away, crush him under her heel. But she didn't. This was her Kwami, her closest ally. If she hurt him like that….. well, she did still have a whole box, but that wouldn't be right. She was a hero, and that wasn't heroic.

 

“Yes, I ‘Rang’,” Chloé air quoted, scowling at the Kwami. “Why do I still feel like flaming sh- garbage?” She corrected, wincing a bit at herself as Bullot hid a smile.

 

“Well, it's quite simple. You used quite a bit of magic yesterday. Even after sleeping for most of the afternoon and all through the night, your magic still isn't at 100%. It will take at least another half a day until your back to form.” Bullot said, casually ignoring the side effects she was getting. If she asked, he would be forced to tell. But, as she hasn't shown any side effects from the Bee besides a love of flowers, he didn't think it would come up. “I would suggest taking off my Miraculous though. It might drain a bit of your magic while you're wearing it.” He mused, again leaving out a few details.

 

With his medallion on, and her current issues, it would be obvious to the other Kwami she was his wielder. Just the anger, though, could be passed on to a bad day. He had to play this slow if he ever wanted to surpass his greatest Name.

 

“Fine, whatever.” Chloé muttered, yanking his medallion off and tossing it onto her bathroom counter, pulling a towel off the rack and starting to dry herself as she stretched, cracking a few more joints as her form visibly relaxed. “Next time, if anything that threatens my health comes up, inform me post haste.” She huffed, earning a nod and smile from Bullot as she looked at the clock, a frown marring her face.

 

Not enough time for her normal full face treatment. Fine. Applying a bit of blush, just a hint of her eyeshadow, and clipping in some stud earrings, she looked at herself and sighed.

 

“Acceptable.” She muttered, leaving her hair down as she walked into her bedroom, pulling a comb from a drawer and placing it on her vanity, starting to pull clothing out of her dresser and preparing for the day.

 

Ruling the school always made her feel better, even if Rossi was annoying her by tossing her carefully laid lines out of order.

 

___________________________

 

    She was wrong. So very, very wrong. How had she forgotten she was persona non grata now?

 

    With a sigh, Chloé kept her mouth shut, eyes closed as she breathed deeply. In. Out. In. Out. She was calm, she was the Queen of the school, she couldn't be bothered by some idiodic peas-... classmates.

 

    She was a calm blue ocean. A calm, gently lapping blue ocean.

 

    And then a spitball hit her still down hair.

 

    The ocean lit on fire.

 

    With a rage that Chloé didn't know she still possessed, she whirled around, eyes alight with fury as she looked at her snickering classmates, each and every one showing some kind of pleased expression on their faces. From that stupid fake worry on Dupein-Cheng’s face, to that fake concern in Adrien’s eyes, to the others loks of amusement, hatred glinting in a few pairs of eyes she could see as she snarled, her composure slipping before she breathed deeply, slowly turning back to the front where Mme. Bustier taught, seeming to ignore what was happening in favor of teaching the class, a bit of fake pity in her eyes as she looked at Chloé.

 

    Whatever. Who needed friends. She was fine on her own. And even then she wasn't on her own! She had Bullot back home, just waiting to see her again. She still had an ally, her ONE ally. Even Sabrina had turned against her, that fake shock in her eyes, the amusement she saw glinting in them. She had probably heard it would happen from her new best friend Rossi.

 

    Rossi. She knew the liar was behind this, though she had no idea why she had shifted target from Dupein-Cheng to her. Probably hunting for easier targets. With a scowl, Chloé ignored her thoughts, trying to focus on the lecture in front of her as she heard something behind her.

 

    Something flying from a straw.

 

    In a flash she had turned, snatching the spitball out of the air before tossing it aside, her gaze an inferno as it landed on Kim, poor, dumb, “Roi Singe” Kim who loked at her with shock as she casually reached over, whiping her hand on Sabrina’s shoulder and ignoring her half affronted look before she went back to pretending. She didn't care. Didn't care that everyone was looking at her in shock, didn't care to see how Dupein-Cheng’s jaw dropped, or how Adrien’s eyebrows rose.

 

    She was done.

 

    “Mme, i'm not feeling well. I'm going to the nurse.” Chloé said, standing up as Mme Bustier paused, looking at her before slowly nodding.

 

    “Very well Miss Bourgeois. Would you like someone to help you get there?” She asked, looking at her stunned class in confusion, having missed the show as Chloé scoffed, opening her mouth before someone beat her to the punch.

 

    “I’ll take her!” Adrien said, a scowl moving to mar Chloé’s face before she started to walk, ignoring her fellow blonde, her brother in all but blood, as he rushed after her.

 

    “Chloé! Wait up!” He called, earning an eye roll as she mentally prepared herself, but still slowed down, her eye glancing to Adrien, meeting his emerald greens, so like the gemstones in one of her favorite necklaces. “Are you feeling ok? What's going on with you?” He asked, her eyes locking onto his earnest ones as she sighed, shoving away the mental whispers that he was just pretending. He was her brother, he wouldn't try to trick her like this. Now, if he was offering her food, then she would have to be worried.

 

The thought of that brought a small smile to her face, clearing a bit more of her negativity as she turned to Adrien. “It's… nothing, Adrikins. I'm just having a bad day. Didn't sleep well, and it's not getting any better because of our classmates.” Chloé muttered, shaking her head as Adrien frowned.

 

“Are you-” He started, his voice an incredulous question as he glanced at her designer skirt, her eyes catching his own as the implications hit her.

 

The fire returned, burning the sky along with the sea now, surrounding her in the flames of outrage as she seemed to swell up, her baby blues alight with fury as Adrien immediately backed up, realizing his mistake.

 

“No, I am not. and if i was, it wouldn't be for you to know, now would it!” She hissed, a low thrumming buzz seeming to echo around the courtyard, like a swarm of angry bees and wasps were moving to descend upon him.

 

“Just wanted to know if we were having a chocolate and ice cream night tonight, honest!” Adrien said, her anger faltering as he backed away, their normal pastime for her… special days bringing her a bit more back to earth as the buzzing ceased, Chloé slowly breathing in as she tried to get herself under control, tried to contain her anger, shove it away, keep it down.

 

Through the sudden silence, one pair of flapping wings could be heard, Chloé’s eyes snapping to the sound as she saw a black butterfly land on one of her rings, her eyes widening in a mix of fury and horror as she looked at the shocked adrien.

 

And then?

 

Then he was in her head again, forcing her to her knees with his voice as he spoke, soothing and prying at her, trying to work his way in.

 

Firefly, Your anger shines as bright as a flame in the night. Wouldn't it be good to let it out, let it loose, and just let everyone know how you feel? You can do all that and more, on one condition. Bring me the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculous!” His voice whispered, trying to drill through her mind as she listened. It was him. The master manipulator. The man who had made… no, not made, let her betray Ladybug. One of the many, many reasons her life was hell right now.

 

“Fuck. Off.” She growled, her voice filled with a righteous anger that seemed to make the world pause, the fire in her mind overflowing out of her mental picture.

 

... Come again?

 

“Was. I not clear enough. The first time?!” Chloé hissed, her eyes opening wide as she stood, her brilliant blue eyes alight with an anger that would make anything that saw her think twice. “ FUCK OFF YOU RAGING BASTARD! ” she roared, the akuma being almost ejected from her ring, allowing her to snatch the little bug out of mid air as Adrien watched her, wide eyed. “Get this through you thick skull, Hawkmoth.” Chloé whispered, her voice trembling as she held the butterfly, not noticing or caring at the multiple people watching her, frozen between flight and stunned silence. “I. am DONE. Being your puppet. Out of the five times you’ve contacted me now, this is my second refusal. I intend to make that statistic a little more balanced.” She growled, before throwing the creature in her grip to the ground, foot lashing out to crush it under her heel, a burning delight crossing her face as she finally, FINALLY had a target for her anger, stomping and smashing the butterfly until her heel broke, the piece of the expensive shoe flying away as her now unbalanced foot smashed into the smear that was the ethereal butterfly.

 

“C.. Chloé?” Adrien asked, walking forward cautiously, almost like he expected her to do something, to say something.

 

Like he was expecting to be burned.

 

“Adrien. I'm going home. Tell Mme. Bustier I didn't feel well at all.” Chloé muttered, turning and starting to walk to the hotel, ignoring his calls for her, and wincing at her unbalanced stepp as she finally scowled, ripping both shoes off and walking home in her expensive stockings, walking through the front door, into the elevator, and finally into her room without a single person daring to stop her as she moved to lay down on her bed, her anger having exhausted her as she laid down and groaned.

 

“So,” Bullet asked, munching on a chocolate square. “How was school?”

 

For his seemingly innocent question, Bullot found himself dodging a flying pillow, flying away to hide until his Empress was in a better mood.

Chapter 7: Backfire

Summary:

A spark of truth, turns into a raging inferno

Chapter Text

The world sucked. Everyone could go die. She hated. Everything. She especially hated annoying little gods who didn't LEAVE HER ALONE!

 

“Bullot, i swear to you, and every other tiny god in my box, that is you drop one more bit of chocolate on my face trying to get my attention, i will dip you in a fountain just to watch you squirm.” Chloé growled, the tiny god pausing as he looked at the chocolate chip in his hand he was juuust about to lose his grip on.

 

Then he shrugged, dropping it anyways as it fell directly into Chloé's hair.

 

The unholy screech that came from her mouth could have woken the dead, and had every maid, cook, and bellboy rushing to do their jobs somewhere as FAR from the penthouse as possible, not wanting to be on the wrong side of Chloé’s wrath, or to even consider being near the epicenter of that explosion.

 

All but one.

 

“Miss Chloé, are you alright?” Jean asked, coming in immediately after the screech, finding Chloé seething on her bed, breathing in and out slowly.

 

“I'm just fine, Jean Claudette. I just dropped a bit of chocolate in my hair. Give me a few moments.” Chloé said, her voice a mix of sickly sweet and unholy rage. But, unless he gave her a reason to, she wouldn't lash out at him. ‘At the closest thing to an Parent in your life .’ She ignored the thought, her mind racing and rushing as she tried to control the deep, burning desire to crush the little god in her hand, to feel herself squeeze him like a squeaky toy.

 

But she couldn't. And she wouldn't.

 

She was a horrible person, but she wasn't a killer. She was Chloé Bourgeois, the wielder of the ant.

 

Even as she took a comb to her hair, she could feel the bitterness in her throat, the memories flashing back as she looked at her mirror, looking herself in the eye.

 

She wasn't tired anymore, and her head was clearing from the fire. Clearing from the anger just enough for her to remember.

 

Remember the shock in those eyes, eyes so much like her own, as her head fell off her shoulders.

 

Remember the feel of the blade, as it sunk deep, having to pull back and take another swing to finish the job.

 

About her head, a head so much like her own, falling to the ground with a thump, only to dissolve into ashes.

 

Chloé immediately ran to the bathroom, throwing up in the toilet as the memories came back, the fire no longer obscuring them with her anger.

 

Of a headless corpse, falling to the ground and turning to ash.

 

Of a white, unmarred back, right as she shoved a sword through it.

 

Of the massive beast’s wails, as she cut it in half.

 

“Oh Kwami…” Chloé gagged, spitting to try and get the taste from her mouth, trying desperately to forget. She needed to forget again, for them to be lost in the anger. She needed to be angry, be furious, if only to lose those images.

 

A nearby siren wailing gave her the opportunity as she turned, looking out the window to see… pigeons.

 

“... Forty eight times now. this is time number forty eight, that mister. goddamn. pidgeon. is here.” Chloé said, voice cold, as she looked at the necklace she had on her nightstand, snatching it up as she felt the fire burning. She would teach this stupid akuma. This would be the last time it was a problem!

 

“Bullot!” Chloé growled, the ant immediately at her side.

 

“‘Ooh, what next? Are you gonna order yourself to fly? breath fire? maybe give yourself the ability to control those birds!” Bullot said, grinning.

 

“No. No Perfect Soldier today. Im beating this moron with my own two hands.” Chloé seethed, slipping the Necklace on. “Bullot, Latch On!” She growled, the Kwami cackling gleefully as he was pulled into the pendant, her elegant dress reappearing.

 

Along with the saber hanging from her waist. A comfortable feeling, even if she never used one before in her life.

 

But she could wield this one.

 

With a grin, Chloé launched herself out the doors of her balcony, taking to the rooftops as she looked for a familiar pink-and-grey spandex, Immediately spotting a sphere of birds near the center of the park as she adjusted course.

 

The fire was in her blood now, singing through her mind.

 

A glorious sound.

 

_________________

 

“So, back at it again, huh?” Chat said, grinning widely as he saw the always excitable Mr. Pigeon, flapping away and cawing to his avian allies, bird whistle on clear display as Chat leaned back, eying him. “I’m starting to think hawkmoth just feels sorry for the guy. I mean we’ve fought this one almost fifty times now, and his akuma is always the bird whistle.”

 

“Are you complaining about an easy fight, Chaton?” Ladybug said, smiling as she watched the Pigeonmancer doing his thing, shaking her head as she stood up. “Well, let's get moving. Before he covers another building in feathers and hides out up there to make sure you can't follow.”

 

“That was one tine, and he apologized for being rude during the fight.” Chat shot back, grinning, before they both paused.

 

“... do you hear that?” Ladybug muttered, eyes narrowing. “It sounds like… laughing?”

 

“No laughing I've ever heard. And it's certainly not happy.” Chat muttered, as the sound got closer and closer.

 

It was feminine, and had enough excitement in it to sound like she was on a roller coaster. But it also sounded… wrong. It was too… unsteady. Like someone was trying to express far too many emotions in one sound.

 

A mad laughter.

 

heeere birdy birdy BIRDY!” The laughing voice cackled, a black blur SLAMMING into Mr. Pigeon, slamming him through hi swarm of winged rats and down to the ground, impacting the concrete hard as the two heroes saw Ash Queen. Only.... she wasn't armored like before. She was in the dress they had seen her leave in, saber and everything, as she pinned the Akuma to the ground under her heel.

 

“Weeeell, looky who I caught! A flying rat.” She purred, her voice full of anger, rage, and just a bit of unhinged mirth. “And a little moth hiding inside. Hey, if i pin you like a bug in a frame, will he feel it?” She mused, grinning, as both heroes looked at each other in alarm.

 

“She’s further along than we thought.” Ladybug said, her voice a harsh whisper. “We need to confront her about the side effects. NOW.” she hissed, Chat nodding thoroughly as the two jumped off the roof, landing nearby as they slowly started to approach.

 

“What! Can't you see I have this guy?” Ash asked, looking at the two with fiery contempt. “I’m going to teach him a lesson, you see? I’m tired of having to watch out for falling pigeon crap wherever i go just because a certain feather ball had a bad day.” She cooed, her voice delicate even as she moved her saber to rest just on the tip of Mr. Pigeon’s nose, turning to look down at the frozen Akuma.

 

“The frustration is entirely understandable!” Chat said, voice light as he moved closer, waving Ladybug back. If he got hit, it was fine. If she got taken down, they were all screwed. “Trust me, i know how frustrating Akuma attacks are. They are exhausting. But don't you think this is a little too far?”

 

“Not really, no. This man has the record for being akumatized, only followed shortly behind Chloé Bourgeois at a whopping three.” Ash said, a wide smile on her face. “And, if i could, i would stab that girl in a heartbeat. Why wouldn't I do the same to him?” She snarled, slowly starting to press the blade closer, moving it towards her captive’s eye.

 

“That’s a bit too harsh is all I'm saying. If you're angry, take it out on hawkmoth, but leave the people he takes advantage of out of it.” Chat said, edging close as he reached out, almost like he was going to grab her shoulder.

 

Ash Queen reacted without thinking, spinning around, her eyes locking on gold and green as her sword swung down….

 

and froze.

 

____________

 

Chloé turned, her anger overwhelming her senses as she saw movement behind her. A knife in the back, stabbing her deep. She knew it would happen, she knew they would betray her. That they would try and hurt her.

 

She swung. She swung towards golden blond locks, towards emerald eyes that looked concerned, worried.

 

and she froze.

 

For a second, for one heart stopping second, she was swinging her sword at her brother. At Adrien. Why would she be swinging her sword at him?

 

Why was she swinging her sword at a hero?

 

“W… what?” She muttered, stepping back, leaving a frozen akuma on the ground as she grabbed her head, pain flaring behind her eyes as the heat tried to overwhelm her again, as the fire tried to take over, Bullot chanting a war song in her mind. “What was i… Why was I swinging at… What?”

 

“Hey, hey, it's alright! That's something we need to talk to you about.” Chat said, noting through the corner of his eye how his lady shattered the item and purified Mr. Pigeon, leading Mr. Ramier to the side and sending him on his way. “We need to talk to you about Bullot.”

 

“About… about my Kwami?” Chloé asked, her thoughts muddled and weak. The heat, the fire, it was in her, everywhere around her, trying to consume her. “What about him?”

 

“He’s dangerous.” Chat said, voice stern. “He’s part of a pair of two, and using him alone makes you angrier and angrier the more you use him, until your nothing but a raving monster, angry at the world as you try to burn it down.”

 

“w… what? i knew… he said he was a trap miraculous but… what?” Chloé asked, her mind locking onto Bullot. About what he did. He hadn't told her that. Why wouldn't he tell her that?

 

“That's right, he’s a trap. He preys on you when your angriest, and just lets it grow. You need to give him to us, we can keep him safe, and make sure he doesn't affect you anymore.” Chat promised, holding out a hand.

 

Preys on you at your angriest…

 

Bullot, talking to her, telling her to be mad, to use him, to fight.

 

Using him alone makes you angrier…

 

Snapping at Adrien, crushing the Akuma underfoot, both the butterfly and the man.

 

“He… he lied to me…” Chloé muttered, her anger turning inwards, towards the tiny god in her soul, watching through her eyes.

 

and smiling.

 

With a roar of rage, Chloé took to the buildings, leaping at full speed towards home, hearing Chat call to her, try to stop her, try to bring her back.

 

But she was too angry to care. Too angry to see how fast she was going as the world blurred around her, either through her betrayed tears or her speed she couldn't tell.

 

All she knew was that soon, she was back home, ripping off her miraculous as she whirled, looking at it as Bullot appeared, grinning at her. “Well, that was fun.” The ant Kwami said, grinning as Chloé advanced on him.

 

“Tell me the truth, Bullot. The whole truth. Are you responsible for… this!” Chloé hissed, her mind whirling. “Why am i so angry, what have you been doing to me?!” She growled, Bullot’s insectile grin just widening.

 

“Well, now that you’ve asked, yes. Yes i am the reason your so angry. Yes I'm the reason you feel so powerful, why you want to fight. to conquer, to WIN.” Bullot said, his voice turning into a hissing purr. “Your nearly there, nearly my perfect wielder. I’ll be honest, you were nearly perfect when i first got you. I knew you could be one of the greats, one of my names. You would be right up there on my list, right next to Nobunaga.” The kwami promised, Chloé’s eyes widening as she frantically thought back to her class’s history lessons.

 

She knew that name. Why did she know that name?

 

It was a warlord, a brutal one. She couldn't remember everything he had done, but he was a terrifying man.

 

And Bullot had claimed him as his.

 

“I… if i keep using you, i’ll be a monster like that?” Chloé asked, anger shifting a bit to let fear through. A thrill of panic running down her back, as something settled in her belly. Was it fear? …. no. That was anticipation. A part of her… wanted to be that monster. Wanted to rule with an iron fist and a fiery glare.

 

Wanted to be the Queen, the Empress.

 

The Warlord.

 

“No!”

 

Even as she denied it, denied Bullot, she could feel that she wanted it. Wanted to be known, loved, and feared. Wanted to have her name shouted at every corner of the world, to rule it, and to burn those who opposed her.

 

“No, no, no! Fix this, bullot! you made me like this, now fix it!”

 

“Hmm…” The Kwami mused, grinning as he watched Chloé squirm, clutching her head. “Nope, sorry. I can't. I give you the power, the fire, and the drive. You are WAR, and i am simply your weapon.” The kwami purred, as something… clicked.

 

He’s part of a pair of two.

 

“Maybe you cant…” Chloé panted, making Bullot pause, the smile dropping from his face as she staggered, moving towards…

 

The box.

 

“Chloé… whatever you're thinking, don't you do it. Don't you DARE.” Bullot growled, flying over to hold the box closed, his tiny frame surprisingly strong as he gripped the latch.

 

“As your Guardian, and wielder, I order you to move.” Chloé growled, her voice a king’s snarl, a warlord’s decree. 

 

And he moved.

 

In an instant, Chloé had the box open as she snatched up the Anklet, the odd feathery symbol in its circle catching her eye as she snatched it from its place.

 

And then, it began to glow.

Chapter 8: Fresh Rains

Summary:

A new Kwami, and more information.

Notes:

Sorry for the wait, all. This one just didn't want to be made.

Chapter Text

The little god was… fluffy. Almost adorably so, to Chloé's eyes, with a little cotton ball tail and a soft face, more used to smiling then anything else. “Ahh…. what a nice nap.” The Kwami yawned, smacking her lips as she looked around, eyes looking over bullot before locking on Chloé in a heartbeat, the smile slipping off as a worried look came over her face. “Oh, my dear! What have you been doing to yourself?! Your energies are so unbalanced, you could break at any moment!” She said, voice a tone that Chloé had never heard before. It… well, she felt a pang hearing it, but couldn't quite figure out why.

 

“Your… Ditzi, right? Kwami of peace?” Chloé asked, trying to ignore the feeling as the little god tittered, gently petting the blond’s forehead with her soft hand, shaking her head with amusement.

 

“No, no, that's just what Bullot calls me. It’s a pet name i think. Ditzy the Dodo Kwami.” She smiled, continuing to try and comfort the confused girl. “No sweetling, my name is Artemisa. But, if it’s easier, you may call me Ditzy. I’ve heard it for so many years I've gotten used to it!” She said, smiling.

 

“Great, so i need to make a new taunt.” Bullot grumbled, Chloé’s anger flaring in defence of the fluffy Kwami before she just laughed it off, floating over to her fellow god with a smile.

 

“Well, it's nice to see you're still the same, my contra.” Artemisa said, grinning as she tugged on Bullot’s cheeks, making him cry out in protest. “And are you the reason this poor, sweet girl is so unbalanced? Shame on you!”

 

“Sweet girl my chiton covered ass!” Bullot shot back. “She is a warrior, a conqueror, through and through! she just needed a little push.”

 

“And now, i’ll push her back into alignment!” Artemisa said, smiling sweetly. “I just need her to use me, and i’ll fix all those nasty things you’ve done to her. She’ll be right as rain!” She grinned, Chloé letting out a groan as she sat at her desk.

 

“Well that's going to have to wait then, sorry to say.” Bullot said, smirking. “We just transformed to fight an Akuma, and let me tell you it was FUN. But it exhausted her body, even without Perfect Soldier. So she couldn't use you even if she wanted to, what with your self imposed limits.”

 

“I impose those limits because, unlike you, I care about my wielder’s health! The powers of peace are not easy to use.” Artemisa scolded. “They are dangerous, even if they're not a combat type like you. We are both anti-army Kwami after all.” She said, waving her little hand in Bullot’s direction, even as Chloé’s head snapped up to look at the little god.

 

“Anti-army? What?” Chloé said, voice insistent as both little gods stopped their argument, looking to her before Artemisa looked right back to bullot.

 

“And she doesn't even know your classification! How can she defend herself and others if she doesn't know how best to use you.” The dodo scolded, the tone making Chloé flinch back a bit. She still couldn't place it, but she knew that an angry tone with that kind of voice was bad news. “Well, I guess I'll just have to explain.” She said, turning on her heel to float back over to Chloé with a smile, patting her head. “Don't worry, my child. Let me explain everything!”

My child?’ Chloé thought, raising a brow as the word finally clicked in her head. A motherly tone. was that really what it sounded like? It seemed… odd. Especially with her head still filled with heat. Shaking her head, she sat back, looking dead at the Kwami as she started to explain.

 

“There are multiple types of Kwami and Miraculous in the world,” She started, her voice turning to a more teacher-esque tone that Chloé knew better. A friendly teacher, much more familiar. “Each one with different powers, abilities, and fields. Of course, the War Box, as our box is known short handedly, is much the same.” Artemisa explained, ignoring Bullot’s grin at the unofficial name of the Box of Conflict. “Classifications help potential wielders know exactly what kind of situations the Miraculous are used in. For example, myself and Bullot are both Anti-Army Miraculous. Him, for the ability to turn the enemy numbers against him with his ability to call defeated foes to aid him, and myself for my Peaceful Circle. Both of us, if given enough energy and a strong enough bond, could route an army. To use another example, Flit and Lux, the Hummingbird and Sloth Kwami in the box, are Anti-Personnel, best used in one on one, or group on group fights.” She said, finding a notebook from somewhere to tart drawing diagrams. “There are also Slip and Flicka, the Support Kwami, the minor Kwami kidden in the draws aroudn the box that range from Diplomacy to Assassination, and finally the Big Four, Anti-Miraculous Kwami. The Four Season Kwami each have an aspect of magic they can control, negate, or strengthen. Hopefully, we never need them, but they are there in case we do!” Artemisa said, smiling to the stunned looking Chloé. “Any Questions?”

 

“... Start again please?” Chloé asked, a bit shyly, as Artemisa rolled her eyes lovingly, and Bullot started laughing.

 

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

 

That night saw Chloé waking up with a fogged, fiery head, annoyed at an alarm going off on her phone that wasnt her alarm clock. “I’ll give you three guesses as to what this is.” Chloé muttered, looking to her phone to see it was, indeed, an Akuma alarm. “Of course. Well, time to get moving.” Chloé growled, grabbing for the pendant around her neck… that… wasn't there. With a blink, Chloé remembered the day before, remembered tossing the pendant away, listening to a lecture by a motherly Kwami, and passing out from exhaustion afterwards.

 

“And now, I'm awake while the moon is still out.” Chloé muttered, blinking as she looked around her room. There was Bullot asleep on the dresser looking dead to the world, necklace wrapped around him. And there, on her balcony, looking at the stars, was Artemisa.

 

“Artemisa?” Chloé blinked, eyes still sleepy and sandy as she stood, wobbling on her feet a bit as she stepped into the cool night air, the moon rising high above them, bright and full, a white glow covering Paris as the lights twinkled in the darkness. “What are you doing out he- no. No, not important. There's an Akuma attack.” Chloé said, holding up her phone as he looked at the location. Right as it blinked out. “... Well, there was.” Chloé muttered, the little god giggling at her face as she slumped into a folding chair. “Kwami, why can't that bastard give us a break.” She muttered, Artemisa floating over to land on her forehead.

 

“Well, i don't know about a break, but he woke you at the perfect time.” The dodo sang, smiling as she patted the confused blond on the head. “Another thing Bullot probably never explained is the fact that we of the War Box tie into many things, and work best at different times. Bullot, for example, is powerful when the sun is up, his fire burning as bright as its sunny rays. Myself? I prefer the night, to dance in the moonbeams and sing into the universe.” She said, smiling. “This would be the perfect time to transform, if you were needed.” She crooned, Chloé’s mind making a snap decision as she pulled the anklet from her nightgown’s pockets.

 

“Well, why not. If nothing else, it will help me get to sleep.” She groused, putting the anklet around her ankle as she stood, stretching as the Kwami looked at her in surprise, before an excited, loving lok crossed her face.

 

“Of course! My phrase is Lets Nest, and Lets Run is to drop it!” She said, excitement coloring her tone as Chloé looked at her.

 

“...Are you sure that's not backwards?” She asked, earning a nod and a wider smile from the Kwami as she shrugged. “Alright. Ditzi, lets Nest.” She said, the shorthand slipping out as Artemisa smiled and laughed, diving into the anklet as her magic took hold.

 

Much like Bullot, Chloé could feel the gloves coming from her hands, spreading to her elbows in a silvery moonlight wave, flowing over them and to her shoulders in a flow of white silk as they travelled down her body, a corset coming into being and lacing itself with lines of silver moonlight, flowing into a large, poofy dress that hung around her like a chandelier, the silvery silk flashing with lines of white as Chloé felt the energy travel up her head, covering her face in a jeweled masquerade mask, wings flaring out from the sides to glimmer in the moonlight, a tiny silver tiara taking its place on her head as the energy flowed through her.

 

In an instant, it felt like a rainstorm had come in, its cool winds and soft rains putting out the raging inferno in her mind as a laugh escaped her chest, relief rushing through her like a raging river as she stood on bare feet, her toes flexing against the cool tiles of her balcony as she spun in place.

 

“This feels… amazing!” She said, voice soft, happy. Free of the anger that had all but consumed her as she walzed around the folded chairs, dancing in the starlight as she laughed to herself, with herself.

 

It felt glorious, relieving. it felt like someone was dancing with her, supporting her, holding her close as she moved with a grace she had never felt before as she spun and stepped.

 

Had anyone seen her that night, they would have possibly mistaken her for a spirit, or a fae, with her ethereal beauty, now pale skin shining in the moonlight.

 

But, like with all things, it had to come to an end. Chloé smiled as she sat back on her bed, Artemisa appearing as she spoke the release phrase, laying back on her bead with a wide smile as she let her tiredness claim her mind, and she fell into the first restful sleep she had had in weeks.

Chapter 9: Cloudy Skies

Summary:

The real reason Chloé can be so effected by these Kwami, and why that makes her the perfect wielder.

Notes:

hehe…. heeeey everyone…. I have no excuse, besides my own crippling self doubt. The only reason i managed to get this one out, is because i have another story that i love on another site but, because it's being… poorly received, i wanted to move it to AO3 to see if i got anything else. but i wasn't going to make a new story without updating this one. anyways, rambling over, please enjoy!

Chapter Text

 

 

     As the sun crested into dawn, Chloé found herself surprisingly well rested after a night of dancing in the moon, her mind clear for the first time in WEEKS helping her to smile as she stood up, humming a song she could never remember the name of as she walked over to her dresser, casually letting her night clothes fall to the ground as she retrieved her favorite blouse, cardigan, and white jeans as she walked into the bathroom, not even noticing or caring about the anklet jingling on her ankle as she walked into the hot water, starting to wash, humming all the while.

 

    “I can't believe you just Transformed with her last night. What happened to wanting to keep her safe?” A voice asked in her room, her mind barely acknowledging Bullot and Artemista floating on her nightstand, right next to the open Box. “I told you, full stop, that we had already transformed that day. A second transformation, with an entirely different Kwami, could have hurt her core. You know this!”

 

    “And you obviously don't know our wielder as well as you thought, if you didn't notice that facet of her soul.” Artemisa said, sounding a bit smug as she patted Bullot on the head. “She’s an Adaptive. It's why she took to your power so well! Anyone would, with their souls in the shape her’s is in.”

 

    Those words killed Chloé’s good mood in an instant as she turned off the water, grabbing her towel and walking out of the bathroom, still dripping with her hair looking like a drowned rat’s nest instead of its normal flowing gold. “What are you two talking about that involves my soul.” She growled, eyes narrowing as Artemista smiled, Bullot simply not looking at her.

 

    “Why, it's simple dear! You're an Adaptive soul. It's quite rare, especially in one so young! It normally takes years upon years for a soul to become like yours, one that can easily accept a Kwami’s power, their Aspect, and learn to embody it.” The dodo said, smiling as she floated over to nuzzle Chloé’s cheek.

 

    “Basically kid, your soul is crying out for something to help it so much, that the first sign of companionship it gets it clings on to. It makes you a good wielder, but it also has complications.” Bullot said, grudgingly starting to explain the negatives as both Chloé and Artemista looked at him, stunned. “Look, kid, I may have wanted to corrupt you, but I know it's not going to happen any more. Doesn't mean I'm not seething about it, but I'm not going to talk flowery to you or anything. Unlike Artemista, I prefer to get to the point of matters. Anyways, your soul. It's great for us, lets you channel our powers better, but it also makes you more susceptible to our emotional sway. In a few weeks, I nearly turned you into a tyrant. That normally takes me a few YEARS, if not a decade.”

 

    “.... He’s not wrong.” Artimista slowly said, sighing. “I was amazed you had only been using him for a few weeks worth of time when I first saw your state yesterday. It was….. slightly disturbing I will admit. But that also means you can take on our good aspects as well! My serenity, calm-”

 

    “Her ability to forgive anything with a pulse.” Bullot interrupted. “Look kid, all I'm saying is be careful with the others in the box, and try not to use us too often. Not only would that make you incredibly obvious, but depending on the personality of the Kwami you could get hurt.”

 

    “And why should I trust you. You tried to make me into a bloodthirsty queen.” Chloé shot back, though much of her ire was doused by the chilling words, and who was saying them.

 

    “That’s true. but you're still my wielder. No matter if you have missus fluffybottom here or not, you're mine. And as much as it pains me to admit it, I want to keep you out of trouble with these schmucks so that, when you finally see that my way is the best option, you're still fully intact.” Bullot said, looking away from her with a scowl as she blinked, gently reaching out to pat his chitinous head as he grunted, waving off her fingers as she smiled, walking back over to her clothes and moving to her table mirror to start preparing herself for the day, her heart still light, even if it was a bit more burdened by the knowledge she now held.

 

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

 

    “Adrikins!” Was the only warning one Adrien Agrest got before he was summarily tackled, a body slam that felt relievingly familiar as he laughed, wrapping his arms around his sister in all but blood as they stepped away from each other, Adrian smiling as he saw her eyes. They were clearer than they were yesterday, when she had nearly been Akumatized. 

 

    “Well, I'm glad to see you're doing better.” Adrian said, smiling as he looked at her. “You haven't been yourself since…. “ he started, trailing off as she winced, but thankfully not losing her smile. “Did what happened yesterday help?”

 

    “You know, surprisingly it did. It really, truly did help.” Chloé said, her smile moving from happy to smaller, and slightly brittle. “It's…. it felt good, not to give into him. But I was just so angry. It didn't really occur to me at the time what I had done. I just…. after everything, i was just done.” Chloé admitted, sighing as she shook her head, as if trying to dismiss those thoughts and emotions. “But, I'm better now. Without the need for ice cream or chocolate either.” she said, tossing him an amused look as he flushed, remembering his accident from yesterday.

 

    “Listen, Chloé, about that-” he started, only to be cut off by a raised hand and a shaking head, a smile still gracing her face.

 

    “Don't. I wouldn't have been acting any different if I was. It was an ok assumption to make, especially considering you normally help me through those.” Chloé said, smiling as she reached out, gripping his arm in a firm grasp, like she was afraid he would leave. “Thank you, Adrien, for everything.” She said softly, not looking at him directly, instead looking at the ground nearby.

 

    “Chloé, if it wasn't for you i wouldn't even be at this school. If anything, I should be thanking you!” Adrian said, earning a smile from Chloé as he opened his mouth to reassure her more.

 

    And that's when the alarms went off.

 

    “One yesterday, one last night, and now one right as school is about to start. I’m starting to think Hawk Moth is a student who didn't study for a test.” Chloé grumbled, her good mood gone as she looked for the source, letting Adrian run away as she tried to find the direction to go.

 

    The massive flaming pillar that erupted near the Eiffel Tower told her all she really needed to know.

 

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

 

    “‘-While a good idea, you're trying to do too much with it. You're writing this story in a way that goes against everything we learned in the ga-’ It's a fanfiction you asshole!” The girl hissed, narrowing her eyes behind her glasses as she read the comment of one of her more liked works. “So what if i'm taking liberties with a few things, it's not like they’re explained at all in any context anywhere! And what's this about them being nothing more than animals?! There are animals smart enough to be almost sentient, why is it so hard to believe that there would be one that has a grudge after the trick they played on it!” She huffed, closing her browser as she got up to pace, her long hair bouncing as she marched angrily around her room, muttering curses as she tried to figure out if she could have done better, if she could have written it in a way that didn't confused people like the comment had claimed. If there was really a way to merge these two parts of the same series together like this.

 

    “This is so FRUSTRATING!” She growled, stomping her foot as she gripped her pen in one hand. It was a habit she had gotten into, using this pen specifically to write out new chapters, with all the side notes and all, down on paper before she put it into her computer, and went from there. “I did the best I could, and it's something fun! who cares what you think.” She muttered, shaking her head as she continued moving, not noticing the Akuma slipping into her pen.

 

    “Oh Firebug, they really can't understand your creative genius, so they simply try and smother it in flames. Why don't you try using their own tactic against them? All I want in return is Ladybug and Chat Noir's Miraculous! ” The smooth voice cooed, catching her attention as the darker thoughts entered her mind. Just a little bit of Flaming, just like was done to her. Not so bad, right?

 

    “I accept.” she said, voice confident as the transformation overtook her, leaving her in a skintight jumpsuit, pen firmly in her grasp as her now obsidian black skin glinted in the light, a fire within lighting her eyes and mouth with a heated orange glow.

 

    With a smile, she walked to her window, casually melting it into slag around her as she walked right through it, fire lancing from her feet to keep her aloft as she went to the biggest landmark she could find nearby, the Eiffel Tower, and started to glow.

 

    “I think it's time to start my work, and see who comes out to complain!” Firebug said, grinning, as she drew a circle in the air, fire lancing out in a pillar to blast a nearby parked car as she started laughing, waiting for the heros to come and try and stop her.

Chapter 10: Cooling Storm

Summary:

A look into the mind of the Firebug, and the startings of a plan of action. A seed planted somewhere in there as well.

Chapter Text

    The flames that licked across the ground were burning bright in the afternoon sun, casting orange and red shadows everywhere to give the seemingly innocuous day a more… terrifying look. The fires licked and danced, trapping people in homes and sending them dancing across streets when they playfully reached out to snap at their expensive looking shoes. It was a thing of beauty to Firebug, even as she wrote more descriptors for her flames into the air, watching them dance to her whim, forms flickering in their crimson depths as people screamed and ran, the philistines. Truly, no one could see beauty like she could. Noone could understand the complexities of her wri-

 

    “You know, i think there’s a bear in america who really should be giving mew a stern talking to.” A calm voice said, sending Firebug’s head whipping around as her smouldering pits locked onto the obnoxiously confident form of one of the paragons of the Parisian people. Chat Noir, the beast in black, the destroyer, he who ruins all he touches. “Fires aren't exactly something to be tossing around like this.”

 

    “You just don't understand the brillains of my work!” Firebug shot back, nearly sending spittle flying as she bared her incandescent teeth, ashes and cinders bellowing out with every breath as her eyes locked onto her foe, her target. She could hear Hawkmoth whispering in her mind, his inelegant words nearly making her reel as she ignored him, focusing more on what he had said. “Though I will say, I dare you to continue insulting my work. Be warned, vitriol burns just as brightly, and may backfire into a great conflagration.”

 

    “.... what are you even saying?” Her feline foe muttered, eyes locking onto hers as she just gave a savage smile, shaking his head as he looked at her. “Whatever, at least you're willing to talk. But seriously, can you pull the fires away from the people? They’re a danger to everyone, and while the Cure can fix a lot of things, memories tend to stick around.” He said, making her smile as she felt her power flare. Twas a minor rebuke, to be sure, but a criticism nonetheless.

 

    “Hmm, i shall take your words into consideration.” She mused, watching as her flames grew, some of the beings within seeming to swell and contort, mutating into more monstrous masses of messily made meat, some even raising themselves to start snapping at the feline foe in their sites as he took a step back, eyes narrowing.

 

    “What did you just do?” he asked, earning a smile across her lips. Such uncouth words, but they weren't a critique, so she couldn't fan he rlovely flames. How droll.

 

    “Why, I have done nothing sir cat. All that happened was a bit of… fanning, shall we say.” Firebug said, a wicked grin moving across her craggy face as she sat down, resting in a fiery chair that seemed to form itself from the inferno, resting in the comforting warmth of her enveloping flames. “Though I must ask you to remove yourself from that location, my flames hunger and I don't wish them to sate themselves upon you.” She cooed, watching as Chat’s eyes widened, leaping away as her starving beasts rushed in, devouring his foothold in an instant as he bounded to a more manageable position, more and more of the locations that could access her being sealed as her flames fed their appetites.

 

    Still, she could hear complaints and groans from the nearby houses, and she smiled, feeding the words directly into starving fires, and allowing them to be devoured to let their forms grow stronger and stronger.

 

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

 

    “somebody clearly took inspiration from Ash Queen for her.” Chat said as he heard his partner swinging in next to him, landing gracefully by his side as he glanced at her. “I don't know what the deal with those flames is, but they just keep growing. Soon they're going to be burning everything in sight!”

 

    “And you have no idea how they're growing? They obviously aren't spreading like normal flames.” Ladybug asked, looking as one particular flaming creature, that looked nothing less than a monsterous wyvern, covered in incredibly sharp scales, as it ripped into a nearby bench, ripping off pieces to swallow them down even as its belly burned a golden red, burning it to ashes, yet not seeming to grow as it returned to the seething sea of fiery beasts. “And we obviously can't get close. Even if they aren't targeting people I can feel the heat from up here. And it looks like that one is eating a fire hydrant, so that's no help.” She said, turning to look at that particular monster, watching it eagerly drinking the waters, steam pouring from vents in its back as it ‘ate’ the water, enjoying itself to no end.

 

    “Not a clue My Lady, maybe a fire extinguisher? or even Either way, something tells me we have somewhere around a snowball's chance down there.” he said, eying the swarm of monsters below them even as his ears heard someone walking behind them.

 

    “... perhaps i could be of assistance?” a voice behind them asked, making both turn to see a vision of elegance, dressed in silver and moonlight. “I’m, ah…. i don't really have a name yet.” she admitted. “But we’ve met before. You helped pull me to my senses after I had relied on one being for too long. Thank you for that, by the way.” She said, pulling nervously at her collar as the two heroes instantly turned to each other in shock.

 

    “Wait, your Ash Queen?!” Chat asked, earning a wince for his wording as she seemed to collect herself, her face firming as she did so.

 

    “I was. It was unpleasant, but I was.” she said, giving a shaky smile. “Thank you for snapping me out of it. Now, while i can't tell you how to avoid the flames, i believe i could help you get through them.” She said, voice quivering a bit.

 

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

 

    Chloé was panicking at a level she never thought she could before, what with being surrounded by fire, invoking memories of how she had acted and killing her own doppelganger, looking at the two who she had partnered with in the past, and who had taken Pollen from her, and offering to help even though she had been burned so many times before. She couldn't even draw on a protective covering of anger or indignation to try and cover her own nerves, feeling the watery energy that was Artemisia's influence washing away and truly negative emotion she tried to pull into her thoughts. Even fear was her own primal survival instinct screaming at her to avoid the fire at all costs.

 

    “Well, you apparently have a collection!” Chat said, grinning wide with his normal boyish enthusiasm. “I guess you really are a queen, though the ashes fit this akuma more than you, I think.” he said, earning a wince from Chloé and a smack upside the head from Ladybug as she looked at her.

 

    “You said you could get us close? How.” she said, leader mode fully engaged as Chloé tried to pull at her pride, at her courage, at her heroism. All she got was a small fire of bravery burning in her chest as she straightened, feeling the others wash away as she internally grimaced.

 

    “Well… My ability is a bit… odd. Just.. stand within arms reach of me?” she said, sounding all kinds of unsure even to her own ears as the heroes looked at eachother, slowly walking over as she smiled reassuringly, holding out her hands once they were within her invisible bubble. “Alright… Here goes.” she breathed. Inhale, focus, exhale, release. Inhale, focus, exhale, release. Inhale, focus, exhale- “Neutral Ground.” she initiated, her voice firm, her eyes snapping open as a silvery sphere appeared around her, encompassing both heroes, and a bit of room to either side, as she nodded. “Right. please stay inside the bubble, and don't freak out.” she muttered, leaping from the building as they quickly followed, only pausing for a moment when they saw her starting to walk towards the fiery field.

 

    “Hey… are you sure about this?” Chat said, eyes narrowing. “You didn't grab the wrong Kwami from your little menagerie, right?”

 

    “I am sure, so please stop doubting me before you make me leave you to the fires.” She snapped, a bit of her indignation slipping through the peaceful cloud she could feel in her head, even as she immediately felt the urge to apologize as she mentally scowled, beating the impulse deeper into her mind as she turned back to the fire, ignoring the muffled conversation behind her as she continued forward. If they wanted to try and figure her out, that was fine. She was currently acting so not like herself she knew they would never put the two images together in their minds. Though she would need to have a polite conversation with Artemista after this. Possibly over tea. And thrown sugar cubes.

 

    As the trio walked forward, she saw the first attack coming and braced herself, eyes locking onto the flaming bear-like creature as it slammed a paw into her dome. From how she knew her power worked, she had expected to feel some pressure, some drain, something.

 

    Instead, she watched as the flaming blow rebounded, sending the bear stumbling even as a silvery copy reached from the sphere, slamming into the bear itself with the exact same force and punching a hole through it, sending it into the depths of the fires again to try and feed to heal.

 

    And she had felt nothing. How interesting. Though, from how Artemista was giggling, she figured it shouldn't be a surprise. She had been told she was an Anti-Army Kwami, so a little blow like that probably wouldn't do anything to the Neutral Ground.

 

    According to her own Impulses, Neutral Ground was the ultimate symbol of her ability, as the Kwami-holder of Peace. Any attack that struck the silvery shell, from inside or out, would be absorbed and reflected back at its sender. On a battlefield, it would be devastating, walking through a field of enemies just as she was now, and destroying them with their own attacks. But, its true worth was in the diplomats hall, an ultimate defence to guard the peace talks, and to ensure all knew that they were safe, so they could discuss and deal freely.

 

    Even as she thought this, her mind wandered to her two guests in her bubble, her mouth moving before she could think. “Just to let the two of you know, it would be unwise to strike out at anything or anyone inside this bubble, inside or out. It will feel it, and it will not approve, and you will find yourself eating your own attack.” She warned, looking distinctly to Chat Noir as he winced, obviously imagining the same thing she was. A reflected Cataclysm.

 

    “Wait, then how are we supposed to take down the akuma?!” Ladybug asked, her eyes widening.

 

     "Hopefully?” She asked, smiling back at them. “Peacefully.”

 

   

Chapter 11: The Dodo's Fight

Summary:

Fighting without fighting? And getting to the truth of the matter.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

    “Wait, wait, wait a moment.” Chat Noir said, his voice full of disbelief as his emerald eyes widened in surprise. “you want to just… walk up to an Akuma, in a bubble of peace and harmony, and try to get its item without having to throw a punch?” he asked, brows climbing almost to his hairline as Menagerie paused, turning to look him dead in the eyes as she slowly nodded.

 

    “Yes. yes I am. Because I will be entirely honest, as someone who has been Akumatized before, sometimes you just want people to listen.” She said, voice cool and collected even as her mind flared, raging anger at an old hurt thought buried as she resisted the urge to look at Ladybug, the rains already starting to wash it away as she sighed. “So, I will get us close, and listen. If it turns out to be wrong, then you can leave this bubble as easily as you entered it. It just doesn't allow violent entry, or violence within.” She finished, a ripping wingblade bouncing away as the beast that gave it got a slash across its chest, a small smile on its creator's face as she continued walking. “On another note, these monsters look… Familiar. Am I the only one who can see that?” She muttered, eyes darting around a bit as they narrowed, the forms becoming more distinct as they got closer and closer to Firebug.

 

    Both heroes remained silent, their own minds racing over who the girl in front of them could be, the Glamor running roughshod over their attempts as they walked closer and closer, soon coming to the base of the Eiffel Tower, Its elegant structure in flames and monstrous creatures, despite the clear circle around it with Firebug in its center, lounging on a bench with a lazy air that just didn't suit a villainess who was currently destroying chunks of the city at a time.

 

    “Ah! The heroes of this fine city finally arrive! I had been waiting to see if thou would be able to make it through my lovely partners.” Firebug cooed, her eyes locking on to the Cat and Ladybug, seeing their earrings and ring as her eyes narrowed, locking onto them. “Though I am surprised. I would have thought they would have brought me thou’s Miraculous covered in soot and ash. Twould not be the first today, who had spoken down to them, who had belittled them.” She smiled, her eyes finally moving to the third figure in the bubble. “But I do not know thou name. Who else am I gracing with mine presence?” She asked, her eyes alight with curiosity, cataloging her appearance as Menagerie curtsied.

 

    “I am called Menagerie, Previously wielder of the Ant, Currently of the Dodo.” Menagerie said, earning a round of blinks from all around before a small giggle escaped Firebug’s lips.

 

    “The… Dodo? Thou must be joking.” She said, barely containing a laugh as Menagerie just smiled, shaking her head. “I… see. Truly, the most incredible of the Miraculous-'' she started, before visibly flinching as she saw her own fires rise. “Ah… I see. Apologies, lady Menagerie, that was rude of me. I did not mean to sound so mocking, I was just… Taken aback.”

 

    “No harm was done to me or mine person,” Menagerie said, earning a blink from firebug before a smile spread across her face. “After all, I will admit mineself that i was not expecting to wield a Dodo of all things, but she is mine, and mine alone. I wouldst not trade her for any treasure in the world.”

 

    “Ah! another gifted in the Civilised tongue!” Firebug clapped, smiling wide as she clapped her hands. “It hast been far too long since i could find another to match my wit and grace. Every person in this city seems to have lost what class they had upon seeing my darlings, isn't that right Glutti~” Firebug cooed, a large, winged flame beast coming down, looking like the demonic lovechild of a dragon, a shark, and some kind of angler fish, combining the three perfectly to make a streamlined, winged body with an angling light dangling from its forehead as it cooed, wrapping its mistress in its tail like a pet seeking attention as she lovingly scratched its head.

 

    “Glutti?” Menagerie started, before her eyes widened and a beatific smile spread across her face. “Like the Great Gluttirous from the Beast Seeker Tales game?”

 

    The moment she said those words, Firebug’s face seemed to light up, her excitement visible even through the light as Chat just winced. He had grown up with Chloé, he knew when a fangirl explosion was coming as he casually stepped back, pulling his lady with him as she just tilted her head, confused.

 

    “A fellow fan! Oh it's so hard to find one of my fellows in this day and age! So many brush it off, an odd child of the Beast Seeker’s games, but it was so fun!” Firebug said, smiling wide. “The very first game of the series I had ever played, the one that brought me into the circle and made me wish to play Beast Seeker Planet when it appeared, cementing my love of the franchise! While childish, the story is absolutely amazing! fraught with lessons, mechanics, collecting and crafting, even character development! It was incredible, and so much fun~” Firebug cooed, Glutti letting out an appreciative groan as the fires around her… dimmed?

 

    “Yes indeed! I absolutely loved meeting Glutti when he was an egg, making my own little girl to run around the world, finding new partners to work with me, learning how to make them their best, from capitalizing weaknesses, to enhancing strengths, and vice versa! Twas such a lovely time!” Menagerie gushed back, smile wide as could be as she spoke. “The lovely Lidia, with her beautiful dragon of ice! The lovable Flora, with her dream to become a researcher! Even the bumbling Davit, and his eventual partnership with the Great Sheepie! It was so nice to see them, their lives, and how they interacted with the player! Not to mention, the battle system brought back nostalgia for one of my favorite childhood games, Cretacious Queen.” Menagerie sighed, earning a squeal from firebug this time as she spoke next.

 

    “Oh that was so much fun! running around, gathering fossils, leveling up each and every one to get the cards they gave, it was such a grind, but so worth it if you could predict the bots and bosses!” Firebug squealed, more and more flames starting to flicker out around them.

 

    and so they went, talking and gushing about games from Otherself Q to Bone Brawlers, to even more obscure games like TFE, until all four of them were surrounded by only one fiery creature. Glutti was all that remained of the raging wildfire, now curled around his mistress’s feet as he huffed, no longer on the defensive with how happy his mistress was as the purple butterfly mask tried, and failed, to refocus his Akuma.

 

    “So, I have to ask, why did you turn into an Akuma?” Menagerie asked, tilting her head as Chat and Ladybug both shot to their feet from where they had been lounging, eyes locking on Menagerie and Firebug like they expected a fight to break out. “Someone who can match me in video game knowledge has to have lots of ways to vent, so why?”

 

    “... If i'm honest? Even though it burns mine heart to admit it, a fairly… unreasonable reason. I was writing a story, you see, for a crossover of Planet and Tales…. And… And one comment hurt. They were all but calling me a fool, claiming that i hadnt learned anything from Planet at all, that the beasts were nothing but that, dumb beasts, and that i was trying to hard to explain things that happened in Tales, like the Burrows that appear and disaapear. I was thoroughly outraged and saddened. I could see their points, but… they nearly made me stop writing entirely, as i was already having a rough enough time trying to climb the infernal walls of a block. And i could even justify it to myself, say it was just one opinion…. and then another joined in, collaborating that i was making it too complex, seeing things where there were none. It was… disheartening. It burned, those comments. It hurt, and stabbed, and struck. And… I suppose the Moth took advantage of me.” Firebug said, looking at the pen in their grasp as they sighed. “I feel like such a fool. How could I let something like that take hold of my heart?”

 

    “It's easy to get frustrated by something, at someone, when you think no one understands…” Menagerie said calmly, kindly, as she carefully stepped from the bubble, Chat, Ladybug, and even Glutti’s heads snapping to look at her as she left the protection behind, moving to the stunned firebug as she took the hand holding her pen in both of her own. “But don't worry. I'm sure, somewhere, someone, is waiting for you to keep writing this story, the one they enjoy, no matter how complex it seems. Because somewhere, in this big, bright world? There’s someone who thinks like you do, and wants to see more. I should know, I spend more of my time reading stories like yours to pass the time, when I'm not shopping. And I love seeing each, and every perspective that there is.” Menagerie said, smiling gently as firebug smiled.

 

    And then, in a flash, the akuma broke her own item, letting her power fade as Glutti let out a sigh of contentment, before guttering out of existence as the butterfly tried to fly away, the bubble dropping to let the yoyo snap out and catch it, as the heroes won the day.

Notes:

Hehe..... Heeeeey everyone...... I'm sorry this took so long. I just... Couldnt figure out how best to get this chapter out. I'm sorry it's shorter then normal, but i wanted to get somthing out for my loyal readers, and that one person who keeps going guest to give me kudos. I'm sorry it took so long for it to get here, let's just say... I based firebug on a story I wanted to bring over here, and the comments that got left on it that made me question if it was good enough to do so.

Sorry for the wait, and the long note. Thank you, all of you, for reading my work

Happy holidays,
Devi

Chapter 12: Passing Clouds

Summary:

After the fight, Chloé learns not to overdo it the hard way.

Notes:

A little gift, for taking so long with the last one!

Chapter Text

As the akuma was purified and everyone ran their separate ways, Marinette found herself with a worried looking Tiki infront of her as she detransformed. “Ok Tiki, what's wrong now? She’s using the Kwami of peace instead of war, right? How is that a bad thing?” The bluenette asked, fishing out a cookie as she looked around, mapping the best way to get back to school in her head. After an Akuma like that, no one would fault her for running as fast as she could. “She was using war, now she’s using the counterpart and balanced herself. What's the problem?

 

“The problem is the implications.” Tiki said, looking concerned as she nibbled on her cookie. “If she has two, it could be possible to have the whole box. If she has the whole box, and ever decides to turn against us…” She said slowly, earning a look from the bluenette as she sighed. “The Central Miraculous of the War Box are spring, summer, winter and fall. While not normally dangerous, they have Anti Magic properties. More specifically, I'm worried about Fall and Spring. Spring is rebirth, growth, and life. A minor aspect of my own Creation nature, it could very well be a way to nullify the Black Cat.” She said, now having the entirety of marinette’s baby blues on her. “And with fall…. Change, decay, and aging, all minor aspects of the Black Cat, meaning they could interfere with my lucky charm.”

 

“Are you telling me that Menagerie potentially has a way to, what, nullify my Lucky Charm?” Marinettee asked slowly, her own mind racing over the implications. “And because we don't know who she is, no one knows who to watch for getting Akumatized. Though i'm surprised she wasn't taken in instead of Mister Pidgeon.” She muttered, narrowing her eyes as she peeked around the corner, seeing others start to come out of hiding as she moved Tiki into her coin purse.

 

This was a discussion for later.

 

**********

 

As marinette started to try to plan for an eventual nullifying enemy, Chloé was having a… much different problem.

 

Specifically, the fact that she was back on campus, detransformed, and so exhausted she almost couldnt breath. With a gran, she fell onto a bench, panting like she had just run a marathon as she looked disdainfully at Artemisia, who for her part looked sheepish.

 

“I’m sorry, Chloé, but transforming yesterday, last night, and now before noon today? Even only using a small amount of my power, that was risky. You could have hurt yourself!” Artemisia scolded, earning a slightly annoyed grunt that turned into a sigh as the blonde tried to relax, still face down on the courtyard bench as the Dodo winced, moving to hide in her Chosen’s purse and settle into a side pocket, a scoff from across the surprisingly spacious bag making her whip around and frown at her Contra. “And what are you trying to say, Bullot?”

 

“I'm trying to imply that, despite how well the kid did today, she could have done better with me. We would have had those beasties licking at the palms of our hands, instead of having to hide behind a shield.” The ant shot back, smirking as Artemisia came closer, her face scrunched in a frown as her closed eyes locked onto him.

 

“Well, as much as i appreciate your commentary, it is not necessary, Chloé did quite well using me in battle for the first time.” She shot back, a smile on her face as she nodded, only to pause as Bullot nodded too.

 

“Oh yeah, no, the kid is great. Wields Miraculous like a champ. To be honest, she could probably handle my siblings without any proble-” Bullot started, only to pause as a menacing aura filled the bag, his eyes turning to look at his Contra as her eyes moved half-open, glaring at her partner as Bullot shivered. Artemisia opening her eyes was never a good thing. That normally only happened when two sides were so far gone, the best chance for peace was starting over from scratch.

 

“You will not speak of your filthy brethren to our wielder. I know their box is lost to the winds, but Aspects help me, if you call them to her by tempting Destiny, then i will bury your miraculous so far under the earth not even an ant will be able to find it.” She promised, her voice still soft, still light, but in a slightly deeper tone, her voice taking on the timbre of a mother protecting their child as Bullot frowned.

 

“First off, rude. Second off, if she finds my brothers, that also means she fined Nixja. I think they would do her well.” Bullot shot back, Artemisia’s eyes snapping open wide in shock before slowly settling closed again.

 

“I… see. You normally wouldn't speak of them so openly with such praise in your voice.” The dodo said softly, earning a sigh from the ant as he looked out of the purse at the noonday sky, and the glittering gold hair he could see floating in the breeze between them.

 

“What can I say, I think Chloé could use some Hope.” he said, voice soft, as the two fell silent in contemplation.

 

*********

 

“Chloé? Cloe! You need to wake up!”

 

“Mmph… quiet Treshy, i'm trying to sleep.”

 

“.... You still remember that nickname…? Nevermind, Chloé! I’m serious, wake up!”

 

Adrien frowned, looking at the sleeping form of his oldest friend as she just rolled over, putting her back to him as he tried to wake her. Everyone was just starting to get back after the attack and, if they didn't hurry, they would be counted late. Not to mention he didn't want to think of what some of their classmates would do if they found her like this. Something told him it wouldn't be just teasing then, and then she would escalate, and it would end up with someone in a hospital. He didn't want that.

 

Of course, he knew a surefire way to wake her up, but… With a glance around, he confirmed no one was there, before trying to heighten his vocal pitch.

 

“Chlo! Someone took Mr. Cuddly again!” He cried, in his best interpretation of his childhood voice as he could manage, as a storm of gold and blue shot from the seat, all sense of decorum forgotten.

 

“I will skin them alive! ” She hissed, her anger filling her head again before being steadily drowned out by the calming rains she just knew where Artemisia’s effect was trying to change her as she blinked, trying to figure out what had just happened.

 

“Good, you're awake!” Adrien said, a cheeky grin on his face as he tried not to laugh at her, her eyes narrowing as he took in her look.

 

Her hair was slightly messed, both by wind and seemingly from some kind of run, and there were red marks on either side of her face from laying facedown on the bench like that. For lack of a better term, nothing like his normally fashionable sister figure.

 

“You, ah… might want to go put some makeup on or something.” The grinning teen said, a snortle escaping his body as Chloé just glared at him. She knew that sound. He was doing all he could to stop from breaking out laughing, meaning it was bad. Even as she tried to summon the anger that normally would have caused, she reached into her purse, grabbing her mirror from two sets of waiting hands as she lifted it to show her face.

 

and froze.

 

“.... Adrien, ifi can't fix this, i'm going to end you.” She said, voice calm as can be as her surrogate brother finally broke, falling to the ground laughing as she scowled at him before walking off, huffing as she moved into the nearest bathroom to start fixing herself.

 

Carefully opening her makeup kit, and being sure not to upset the two gods hiding in her bag, Chloé began fixing her face, gently applying just the right shade of concealer to match her normal skin tone even as she heard stalls opening next to her, her exhausted mind barely catching it before a voice spoke up next to her.

 

“Wow Chloé! I didn't know that train tracks were the next big fashion statement.” Lila said, a smile on her face. “You know, I think I have the perfect concealer for that. Clara gave it to me as a gift for helping at one of her shows!” Lila said, casually reaching into her bag as Chloé just barely stopped from lashing out at her, drawing on all the patience she could bear, and the calmness of  Artemisia’s influence.

 

“Lila, I have just spent the better part of the morning running from some crazy fire monster across half of paris before making my way back here. Im tired, sore, and going to lash out at the very next person who catches my ire. For your sake, don’t let it be you. Please leave.” She said, voice deceptilvy calm despite her words as she finished covering the light bruise, mildly frowning at the contrast as she tried to lighten it a bit.

 

“Whatever you say, Borgeois, but I wouldnt be too harsh now, if i were you. Everyone in Paris knows about Miracle Queen, and if yu made another Akuma appear? I dont think you would be let off with a little thing like being grounded.” Lilia laughed, walking out the door as Chloé very nearly lunged at her, before sighing ans finishing her shoddy makeup as she frowned.

 

It would have to do until she got home.

 

*********

 

As Chloé casually wiped her face off, revealing the slight discoloration that still remained, she all but flopped onto her bed, groaning in abject pain as her two Kwami floated out, both looking at her and nodding seriously.

 

“No heroing for the next bit.” Artemisia said softly, floating over to her. “Not for at least a week. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard with us, and much more could kill you!”

 

“No arguments from me.” Chloé yawned, all but burying her head in her pillows, and screw her clothing. “After three days of nonstp Akumas? It will take a bit for Hawkmoth to get his strength back up for a decent one.” She muttered, relaxing into he covers. “I just want to sleep. For a week. Can i do that?” She muttered, eaning a chuckle from the two Kwami as they settled down on their miracle box, looking at their fellow Major’s jewelry before looking at each other, entering a heated staring contest between Bullot’s open eyes, and Artemisia’s closed ones.

 

They had to work on an agreement of who Chloé could use next, if the need arose.

 

And so, with their wielder drifting to sleep nearby, they began discussing who could and could not be used next, if only for the sheer problems that could arise if their changes on their wielder interacted with whoever she had used last.

 

Some Kwami in the box were not made to go well together.

Chapter 13: Chilling Conversations

Summary:

While the Wielder sleeps, the world turns around her.

Notes:

Was gonna wait till next Monday, but got bored and wanted to see your reactions.

Also! I Will freely admit I stole the Destiny sctick from one of my fellow writers, but cant remember witch. If anyone would tell me, I'll credit them for the refrence.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Hawkmoth stood in his lair, his eyes closed as he processed his recent losses, his frustration, and his sorrow. “Just when I'm starting to make a windfall, just as I'm starting to get closer and closer to the Ladybug and Black Cat, after taking away their support structure… and now, this.” he sighed, putting a hand to his face as his own despair nearly overwhelmed him. He had been so close, so CLOSE to getting his beloved back, so close to freeing her from her eternal slumber, but now… “All because of that girl. Who is she, and how did she find these Miraculous!” he growled, his eyes landing on the few news reports of the girl's actions, showing her both in her black, almost armor-like dress, and her contrasting silver one, the two different miraculous looking so similar, yet so different, that he could only assume they were as similar as they were different in power. “Where did she find them, and how can I beat them?!” He hissed, his voice growing more heated as he began to pace.

 

From the sidelines, Nattelie watched her boss, her friend, stressing himself to the catacombs and back as she gently stepped forward. “Gabriel… maybe I should use the peacock again. Give you a fighting cha-'' She started, only to be cut off by a hand, and Hawkmoth dropping his transformation as the tired looking Nooru floated beside him, floating over to the snack table Gabriel had prepared specifically for his comfort and recharging while they were here.

 

“No, Natalie. We can't risk your health any more. Then, not only would it become apparent who Mayura was, but it could also potentially harm Adrien to lose you.” He said, voice soft as he looked at the woman, a friend, and someone who was helping him get his wife back. “I cannot put you, or him, through that again. No, I must find a way to do this on my own.” He said, looking at his hands as he clenched them, so tight he nearly drew blood. “But…. Perhaps to do that, I would have to bury the few morals I have left, and I am… loath to do so.” He admitted softly, Nattelie nodding as she looked to the side herself.

 

He had been sandbagging, of course, for the safety of those in the city. If he had truly wanted to, there were places in his range that he could access. Prisons, Crime Families, all rested under his range and in his power if he so chose. If he decided to give the power to such… unscrupulous people.

 

But there was one area that could avoid that fate, one place he could draw from to avoid having to look there.

 

It would only cost him his soul…

 

“I will… need to think on this.” Gabriel said, slowly starting for the exit to his hidden lair. "Now, Adrien will be home soon, we should go and meet with him before the next part of his day.” He said, looking over his son’s meticulously planned schedule, nodding to himself. He would have to avoid these areas if he could within the next few days. Despite how it drained him, he knew these constant Akumas were draining his enemy as well.

 

He could keep this up for longer than they could, he knew it.

 

*********

 

“So,” Bullot started, once he was sure their wielder was dead to the world asleep as he turned to his opposite. "Yays and Nays. I'll say this right now, Lux doesn't even touch her before Flit can. Calm and Patient won't mix well in her situation, no matter how you doin it here."

 

“Nonsense, there is never too much peace and calm in a human soul.” Artemista shot back. “There is always a need for more.”

 

“But there is also a need for things to get done, and with those two mixing, that won't happen.” Bullot said back, earning a wince and a sigh from Artemista.

 

“Very well. But! In return! Slip doesn't get used without Flicka!” She shot back, earning a  wince from Bullot. “War and Apathy go just about as well as they can, if we want a sociopath! No, no, and for a third time no, he does not get involved until his counterpart is.”

 

“I can concede that point.” Bullot mused. “The Romans aren't really needed here, unless she has a public showing, or needs to sneak around, but until then we should probably keep them hidden and out of sight.” The ant said, earning a nod from artemista. “Which just leaves… The seasons.” He winced.

 

“No.” Artemista said simply. “Not unless we need them. The seasons are too dangerous for her right now, and even if she was given a week to rest they would STILL be dangerous. We just change how she acts, they will bring aspects of herself to the surface that none should see. So again I say no, not until the direst of circumstances.”

 

“For once, we agree.” Bullot muttered, shuttering at the idea of Demis getting a hold of his Chosen. “No seasons. Now, what if she finds any more boxes?”

 

“And how likely is that?” Artemista shot back. “Unless you're hiding something from me we don't know where any others are, so this shouldn't even be an issue.”

 

“Except that like attracts like. You felt her soul, she’s been touched by magic so many times I'm surprised miraculous aren't levitating out of the box and magnetizing to her. She had so much of it pumping through her veins I'm surprised she doesn't bleed gold and silver.”

 

“... this… is unfortunately true.” Artemista sighed, shaking her head. “But until that time, we shan't discuss it. That is a case by case, and you know it.”

 

“...Fine. But I won't hesitate to gloat if more show up unannounced.” Bullot huffed, turning his head away as Artemista sighed. 

 

The two had different opinions of their unknown relation, Destiny. Destiny had never had an aspect made into a Kwami, and therefore never had a voice to explain themselves. Some liked to blame the eldest, others wondered if they even existed.

 

Bullot hated Destiny, even if he felt their touch more than most. Destiny had taken more than a few of his hosts before he thought was their time. Artemista, on the other hand, was more neutral, not caring one way or the other if Destiny existed, but just wanting to spend time with her chosen.

 

But something told her she would be changing that opinion very, very soon.

 

**********

 

André Bourgeois was a good man… or, at least, he tried to be. He loved his wife, and his daughter, and wanted to make sure his city was safe, and profitable.

 

And sometimes… sometimes those three wants got in the way of each other.

 

“Audrey, dear, do you think Chloé has been… a bit removed, lately?” He asked cautiously, knowing his wife was still angry at the public fallout Their daughter’s latest Akumatization had caused them, something he admittedly was still reeling a bit from financially as well even if he didn't let that cloud his judgement for his daughter.

 

“Who?” His wife asked, earning a small wince on his face as she barely looked up from their dinner, a lovely fillet that he had always complimented the chef on whenever they had made it for him. It was… something of a comfort food, for days and times like this.

 

“Our daughter, dear.” André said gently, earning a scoff as his lovely wife speared a chunk of her meal with her fork before daintily eating it, chewing thoroughly before answering.

 

“That girl is nothing but a source of bad luck, lawsuits, and bad publicity. So what if Chartreuse is a bit down. She deserves it after her latest blunder.” She said, her voice calm, but almost as waspish in tone as their daughter’s latest Akuma.

 

“Well, it's just…. I was wondering if we could do something to cheer her up. Maybe she would enjoy some time at one of your shows!” He said, putting a bit of cheer in his voice as he suggested it, only for a laugh to cut it down.

 

“The day that girl goes anywhere near my catwalk is the day I retire for good. She may have inherited some of my looks, but that's the only good thing about her.” She said, making him wince harder as he sighed.

 

He had tried, and he knew that any protesting on his part would potentially backfire again as he just nodded, thinking over the gift he would now have to get her to try and cheer her up.

 

Jewelry always worked well, and he had seen this intricate antique box for sale that he could have shipped here from where it was in the Americas. It was an extravagant thing, with images of vines wrapping around it like chains with multiple floral designs appearing all over it, with flowers of every color of the rainbow sprawling over it like a garden centerpiece, with the very center of said centerpiece being a triangular symbol of twisting Bamboo Flowers, Posies, and Chrysanthemums surrounding a snow White Iris..

 

It was beautiful, and he was just sure his daughter would love it. Though he wished he knew if the decorative flowers represented anything, or if it was simply there for aesthetics.

Notes:

Just to point somthing out, Take a look at how the last box was described. All of those markings have a meaning after all~

Chapter 14: The Call of the Abyss

Summary:

A dream. A premonition? A warning? And a soul sold.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The darkness surrounded her on all sides, rolling around her like fog, black as night and just as ominous. An unknowable unease filled her heart and soul as she stared into the abyss, looking for something, anything, to latch on to, to hold close, to anchor herself. It was maddening, this darkness, this feeling of being all alone as she waited for something, anything.

 

shapes darting in the shadows. a sinister laugh. a soothing voice purring offers into her ear, trying to tempt her very soul from her body. Anything was better than this… blackness. It was terrifying in its hold of her.

 

a whisper of air brushed her cheek, leaving her feeling cold as she looked around, a streak of grey in the darkness making her whip around, a flash of golden eyes meeting her own before they vanished into the whirling shadows.

 

“Wait! where are you going?! don't leave me here!” she cried, her voice echoing, but she already knew that it was gone, leaving her alone in the ever darkening abyss again as she looked around.

 

She needed something, anything, to keep herself sane here. Those eyes said that other things were here. she just had to find them.

 

Slowly creeping forward, she moved through the abyss, seeing flashes of movement now and then that she tried desperately to reach out for, but each time they slipped away, leaving her alone again.

 

a flash of emerald, the sound of wings.

 

a grey blur, the scent of the jungle.

 

white and black, scales and feathers flashing by.

 

“Stop leaving me here alone! can't you see i need a way out!” she cried, but knowing the beings were already gone, flashes all she had to look for as she walked forwards, before stopping.

 

was that… light?

 

In that instant, she broke into a run, ignoring a howling cackle, the hissing of cats, she ignored it all as she ran forward, twords that light, that beautiful pale glow.

 

As she got closer and closer, she started hearing things. the clacking of shoes on stone. Her own movements matching the sound. Ah, so it was her moving? Good, something else to distract her from the madding abyss.

 

Then she heard the whispers.

 

She reaches for us? the nerve.”

 

“so strong, so free.”

 

“Beauty, strength, knowledge and wealth…”

 

“...good enough to eat .”

 

“Hmm… why bother.”

 

“All of her belongings, all of her power....”

 

How DARE she reach for us !”

 

As she skidded to a stop, looking for the sources of the voices, she found herself looking at seven burning flames, the colors of the rainbow surrounding her as they spoke, debated, cackled and cojoled. wild shapes, dancing in the flames as they tried to blot out that beautiful white light.

 

She didn't care.

 

She looked for it, searching for it, even as she saw the cloud of rot, the smell of sickness, and felt the reaper’s scythe.

 

she searched for that white light, that pure figure.

 

and heard a whisper in her ear.

 

not yet

 

Chloé awoke screaming, feeling those words burning her ear as she did so.

 

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

 

Jean was having a rough time of it, recently. His charge, his current mistress, had been acting so oddly recently. Taking meals only in her room, disappearing and reappearing at odd hours, smelling of soot, or of soft perfumes. What could she have been doing that had left her thankfully not home when the fireball caused by that receipt akuma had sent a stray fire their way? What had made her withdraw so mu-

 

The scream shattered his soul into shards of terror as he burst through the door, the morning’s breakfast forgotten as the older man rushed to his charge’s side, looking at her wide eyes, her panicked, almost animalistic terror seizing his heart in place as he quickly grabbed her arm, looking her in the eye.

 

“Miss Borgeous, Madame! Chloé!” He shouted, shaking her thrashing form as she screamed and sobbed, latching onto him with a grip so tight it drew blood. “It's all right, calm down! I’m here!”

 

“No, no! Get away from me! I wont! Get away!”

 

“Madam, I won't force you to go anywhere! please, just calm down!” He nearly begged, eyes wide with worry as her frantic breaths hitched, her heart thudding in her chest hard enough for him to feel the vibrations, see her arm trembling as she tried to come back fully.

 

“J… Jean?” She whispered, her voice horse from her violent scream, her nails still digging into his arm hard enough to draw blood as her terrified eyes locked on to his own, her terror slowly leaving her body, even as the dread she felt was still building inside her.

 

“I’m here, madame. Do not worry.” He said, his voice gentle as he held her, letting her slowly calm down as he looked at the nails that had pierced his suit. And his skin. He would need to get it repaired and washed, if not outright replaced. “You're alright.”

 

“S… Something bad is going to happen.” Chloé said weakly. “Really, really bad. We need…. I…. we should…”

 

“Nothing is going to happen, Madam. It's quite alright. Just breathe with me. In, and out. In…” He coached, watching as her breathing slowly settled, never seeing the two worried looking gods, their eyes drifting to their own box that they had felt her magic reaching into, and where it had been reaching elsewhere.

 

What had she connected to, to terrify her this much?

 

And why now?

 

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

 

“Nooru….” Gabriel started, standing in his hideaway as he looked into the city, surrounded by his butterflies, and simply watching the skyline of the city he lived in, that his son lived in, that his wife had loved, as he prepared himself for what he had to do. “This… shall be difficult for both of us, and while i shall not listen to any protests, I will apologize in advance.” He said, causing the Kwami to look at him in shock and dread.

 

His master never apologized, not even for the nastiest of his Akumas.

 

What was he planning to do?

 

“Master?” The little butterfly asked. “What…. Why are you apologizing?”

 

“....For how I am about to lose my soul, and am dragging you into it. Dark Wings, rise.” He commanded, the Kwami streaking into his broach as he prepared his dark butterfly, sending it into the world for a place he knew would be filled with the deepest, darkest emotions he could find, one he had always ignored for his own sanity, as rain began falling in the City of Love.

 

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

 

Marcus was a grown man, tall enough to be considered massive, and built like a brick wall. He worked in a warehouse, moving boxes by hand and machine that could weigh upwards of 50 pounds sometimes, and had been cracked upside the head more than once by something falling, suffering nothing more than a headache, and a bump. People called him the Iron Man in his workplace, for his unshaking strength, and focused mind.

 

And he was currently crying his eyes out, hoping and praying to every god in the world that this wasn't real, that he was dreaming, that this was one incredibly long, horrible nightmare as he clutched a small storybook to his chest, looking at the small ‘ so small, so wrong’ coffin that was about to be lowered into the ground, holding all that remained of the light in his life, going to join her mother far before she should have.

 

It was an accident, a drunk driver slamming into the side of his car, killing two of the three people involved in an instant, and leaving him in the hospital for the time it took to arrange the funeral before him. Something that was happening far, far too soon.

 

He stood there, numb, as he held the book to his chest, trying not to break down and cry like he had been ever since he heard the news, ever since they had put him on suicide watch. ever since he knew that she was gone .

 

And he stood there, watching, as they buried his daughter, leaving him alone one by one as they said their goodbyes and left, leaving him alone in the rain with his best friend in the car, waiting for him, out of the rain.

 

Meaning no one was around to gawk at the little black butterfly, flying into the place it had never gone before, as it landed on the book in the massive man’s hands.

 

Even as he felt the person in his mind, Marcus didn't say anything, numb to the world and uncaring. Why would he care, now that his little girl wasn't there to see it?

 

‘... loss is hard.” the titular voice said, the one he had heard of, but never heard himself. “ I know that all too well. I, myself, and doing what I do to get back someone just as precious to me.” he said softly, telling the man something he had never told anyone. why. out of some kind of pity? out of comradery for their shared suffering? “ what I am doing, I do to bring her back… and…. perhaps, if you get me what I need to do it… perhaps I could bring her back too.”

 

He instantly had his attention, the man’s head snapping up, a desperate light appearing that hadn't been there in weeks, as he had prepared to bury his daughter.

 

it is only a possibility, but I swear to you, Necrolancer, that I WILL try. ” the voice promised, and Marcus, no, Necrolancer nodded, his eyes narrowing.

 

“If there’s even a chance I’ll see her again? I would burn this city to the ground.” The mourning man promised, as he felt the power spread through his book, turning it into a tome of something dark, as the power moved through him.

 

A grey cloak wrapped around him, a skull taking the place of his head as armor seemed to cover him like water, flowing up as the cloak cascaded down to cover him, a massive steel lance appearing in his off hand as he looked up to the rainy sky, empty sockets filling with raindrops like tears as he let out a mournful, wrathful, and desperate cry.

 

A cry that came from all around him, echoing, as the ghosts of the graveyard replied to his call.

Notes:

I got chills writing this one. Hope I did it well!

Chapter 15: Cold and Dark

Summary:

Hawkmoth's worst mistake, and a breaking heart.

Notes:

Warning, it will not be gratuitous, it will not be bloody, but there is DEATH.

Warning delivered. Have Fun~

Chapter Text

Paris was as it was many days, calm, slow, quiet save for the sounds of cars and pedestrian chatter as everyone made their way towards their points of interest, be it school work, or tourism as the morning dragged on, leaving many to feel like it would be a slow, peaceful day.

 

Then, the first ghost flew from the sky, its wispy tail dragging behind it as its moaning, ghoul-like face was curled into a rictus scream, looking like it was more bones than ectoplasmic flesh as it darted towards a pedestrian, knocking them to the ground with a wailing cry as they stumbled, barely avoiding the embrace of death themselves as the ghost tried to knock them into oncoming traffic, making everyone stop in shock at the whitish-blue being as it screamed and moaned

 

Stunned as the crowd was, noone noticed the second one until it was too late, the wispy shape pushing a teenager with her phone in her hand and her eyes oon what had just happened into a nearby open manhole, earning a yelp that quickly fell silent with a sickening snap.

 

The panic truly set in then.

 

People ran screaming, dodging the off white bumper cars disguised as ghosts as they tried to find someplace safe, one person running into an alleyway and, after making sure nothing was above them, sighing in relief.

 

only for their breath to be cut short as something impacted them from behind, looking down to see some kind of harpoon-like obstruction now coming out of their fully intact collarbone, their confusion only lasting moments before they fell to the ground, life ending in seconds as the wispy ghost still attached to the chain was dragged out, coming to rest at the incorporeal ‘feet’ of a larger, more impressive, hooded spectre, more chains in its hands lashing out and bringing back spirits like unruly dogs as these Soulcatchers continued to float, more and more chains flowing from their grasp.

 

And even more specters were coming. Those with long claws, that ripped apart flesh as well as souls, sending scarred spirits moaning to the side as their torn asunder bodies fell over, gone before they had even started to fall. Spirits with massive maws, snapping people up left and right and growing bigger with every moaning soul filling their translucent stomachs. Spirits with weapons, shooting or slashing through the masses like peasants fleeing from an inquisition.

 

and all the while, Necrolancer watched, impassive as the reaper himself as he watched his spirits tear across Paris, ripping lives asunder.

 

And Hawkmoth watched in horror, now knowing what he had unleashed, and knowing that no matter what he told nooru, his soul was not NEARLY enough to pay for what he had seen.

 

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

 

“Jean. Jean you have to go. get the others, the maids, the servers, everyone! get them out and RUN!” Chloé pleaded, eyes wide as she felt her bad feeling growing worse by the second, her tears no longer falling as she gripped Butler Jean’s arms. looking into his older, wider eyes and probably looking like a scared girl after a nightmare. But she didn't care. The feeling was almost sickening now, death approaching from every angle and her just… trying. trying to help. trying to get people AWAY.

 

“Madam, i'm afraid i can't do that.” Jean started, stepping back and looking at her worriedly. “My job, first and foremost, is to look after you-”

 

“By the name of every god i know, you will LISTEN to me, Jean Fidéli!” She finally snapped, making him take a step back in shock.

 

The miss had said his actual last name?

 

“You will go to your friends, your loved ones, your coworkers, and you will GET THEM OUT.” Chloé hissed, Artemisia's calm rains washed entirely away by the fear, the terror, and the need to get him to LISTEN DAMN IT! “You will run until the Miraculous Ladybug happens, and then you will come back, because i swear if something happens to you, i will NEVER forgive you! Am I clear!” she ordered, her full queenly force of will returning to her as she looked at her long time servant, her closest ally, and the one person she couldn. Afford. To lose.

 

“...Yes, Misses Bourgeois.” He finally said, bowing his head as he turned, walking to her bedroom door as he paused, turning to look back at his charge, and wondering where the spoiled, pampered, and so very lonely little girl he had known all her life had gone.

 

With a sigh, he turned, hand on the doorknob as he prepared to open it. It was… oddly chill to the touch, He would need to talk to matinence about the air conditioning again, he just knew-

 

Chloé snapped out of her panic as she heard a thump, whirling around as the two gods she had out shouted in surprise, dodo and ant both watching with their wielder as a ghostly scythe ripped through the door, not actually damaging the material at all, and yanked the ethereal form of her closest thing to a caring parent out of his body, a last gasp of surprise being the last thing she heard as he fell to the ground, dead as a doornail.

 

And something in Chloé… broke.

 

Slowly, almost in a daze, Chloé slid to the ground, her legs sprawling beneath her as she just… sat there, eyes locked on his fallen form, the shock keeping the tears she knew should be falling away as her Kwami desperately tried to get her to listen, to look at them, to call them to action. This was the work of an Akuma, they screamed, and begged, and tried to get her to just FOCUS! He would be back when the battle was won! But she needed to win it first!

 

But it didn't matter.

 

He was gone.

 

Chloé felt something in her heart flicker, and die, as some of the warmth she was feeling left her body, not even noticing as the box in the corner of her eye seemed to shift, to open like a six leafed flower as something in the depths was revealed, didn't seem to care as she saw the pale blue symbol, one of the four in the center of the box, glowing.

 

Until there was something floating in front of her.

 

It wasn't jewelry, or a trinket, or even a little clip on keyring. It was something… Old. Its metal was rough, and weathered. Its color was dim, and grey. Its glass fogged, like it was perpetually frosted. But the little lantern just hung there, in full defiance of gravity, dangling in front of her like it was held on a string.

 

And then she saw the Kwami.

 

Grey fur flowed in a suddenly arctic breeze, as golden eyes locked onto her own. It was fluffy, almost like a very small dog, but those sharp ears and long, fluffy tail gave the true story.

 

She was locked eye to eye with a Wolf.

 

“Child…” the voice of the cold whispered, blowing over her ears like a frozen wind. “You have lost much, and stand to lose more. This power, this magic, is an abomination in my eyes. Allow me to help you, so we may put these souls to rest, and return the death beyond the veil where they belong.”

 

Chloé was too frozen to answer, her hand woodley reaching out, grabbing the lantern by its ring as she felt its weight shift, now hanging by her hand strength alone.

 

“My name is Demis. I am the Kwami of Winter, of cold and dark, of the veil, of the final passing, and of the sleeping earth. Say what you know to be mine.”

 

“Demis, take the world in your embrace.” Chloé whispered, her eyes catching the terrified looks of Artemista and Bullot before the COLD took her mind.

 

And she stopped worrying about such trivial things.

Chapter 16: Singing Ice

Summary:

A look into the mind of winter, the true battle approaches, and a glimpse of the terror of Necrolancer.

Notes:

Sorry if its annoying, but as a music lover I was inspired!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

It truly was a wonder, Chloé mused, how she hadn't seen the world like this before. How… broken, it all was, and how hard it was to really do anything you wanted to.

 

It was simple, really. With so many rules chaining down everything, it was hard to find the right way to slip through them, to be under as little restrictions as possible, while still being well within the weave enough to be protected.

 

Even Miraculous, the true meaning of freedom for anyone who had used one, had their chains. They bound you to a persona, to a mask, and made you put others before yourself. Put another chain around your neck, and made it harder to breath then if you were just a normal person. Made it impossible to run.

 

“How droll.” she breathed, her half lidded eyes watching the mist that flowed away with her words, catching her reflection in a window as she approached.

 

She was wearing a silver hoodie, with long, grey sweatpants ending in a pair of black boots that crunched the snow and ice under her feet, her golden eyes locking onto themselves as silver hair flowed outside the hood, the sheer disinterest in her eyes making a savage smirk play out across her lips as she turned, continuing to walk down the street, the crunch of ice and snow under boot the only noise in the silent street.

 

For what was truly free about freedom? When you had to fight and claw your way out, only to be subjected to even harsher challenges when not protected by the web of chains. It was much easier to just… fall under, let yourself be buried by the rules, and go about your day as just another face in the crowds. After all, if no one knows who you are, that's almost as good as being free.

 

Because it means there are less chains holding you back as you stalk through the shadows, and make the darkness your home.

 

With a smile, she looked into the lamp still clutched in her right hand, feeling the weight of the metal housing, seeing the silver of her nails standing out from the grey of the metal, the pale skin of her hands nearly as white as the snow around her as she continued moving.

 

With a slight movement, she turned to look behind her, at the fleeing, frozen humans, and the slightly green shards of the ghosts, their bodies shattered so their souls could escape back to where they belonged, be it in life, or beyond the vale.

 

She just hoped they were smart enough to stay around until the Cure was cast.

 

“If they're not… does it really matter? They were just too weak willed to survive.” She muttered, looking ahead to the bare concrete around half a block in front of her, as it always was before it entered her range, watching the ice slowly creeping along the street, the grey clouds above turning from simply overcast to snowy as they entered her area of influence.

 

It was almost… freeing, this silence.

 

And that was dangerous.

 

In the ominous silence, a voice started singing. Slow and melodic, it turned the normally powerful song slow and haunting.

 

Perfect for the ice around her.

 

She wears her heart safety pinned to her backpack, her backpack is all that she knows~”

 

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

 

“On your right!” Ladybug almost screamed, Chat dodging the swinging scythe of a Reaper as they tried to make their way to the epicenter, to the knight on the horse they had seen when this had all started. Where the fallen camera crew’s camera still rolled, stuck there indefinitely as the news center had fallen soon after the ghosts had arrived, leaving a single camera locked onto the Akuma, watching as he simply sat there, atop his skeletal horse, and waited.

 

Waited for them.

 

“Above!” Chat yelled, Ladybug instantly moving into a roll as she snapped her yoyo out on reflex. the ghost reeled back, stunned for a moment while she hastily retrieved the weapon, clipping it to her side as she kept running.

 

It was all she could do, really. The ghosts just didn't stay down, losing all fear of injury and death in their afterlife as they tried to swarm over the two heroes, her mind locking onto a few terrifyingly familiar faces she didn't want to think about right now.

 

(A long haired girl with glasses clawing at her feet from below, a massive brutish being with a curled up face where there should have been a smile, a whip fast ghost with long claws next to it whipping in and out as the lumbering spirit tried to step on the red and black dot below him.)

 

Nope! Not now! Probably not ever! They needed to beat this Akuma. NOW.

 

“Clear path! Move move move!” Chat called, the two of them running at full speed as they found themselves in the Eiffel Tower Plaza, the normally bustling area empty save for them, the Akuma, and the bodies, the skeletal knight grinning at them as they approached.

 

“Welcome, Heroes.” The Akuma spoke, its voice deep, yet rasping, like something fresh from the grave. “I am truly amazed that you made it this far through my spirits, and even more that you are willing to fight at all. With almost all of Paris part of my horde, there had to have been a few… familiar faces, within the masses.” He rasped, sounding almost amused. Like he was about to laugh.

 

“Do you think this is funny?” Chat hissed, claws flexing as his eyes narrowed. “Because i'm not laughing.”

 

“No, you aren't. And that tells me all I need to know.” The Akuma grinned, its skeletal jaw seeming to shift. “Now you know my emptiness, my sorrow, and my rage. All the reasons Hawkmoth came to me. He’s in my head right now, you know. Telling me to give you my Akuma, to let you fix this ‘mistake’. But I won't. This was no mistake. This, is the result of a man pushed to desperation, and the consequences of the wish he promised me. He will fulfill his end of the bargain, give me back my daughter, and then? Then we can see about fixing everything else. But I WILL take your miraculous today!” The monster roared, his horse rearing up as  he prepared his lance, looking to run them down, and take what was his. The heroes responded, taking out their weapons to start the fight of their lives.

 

All three paused as they heard a melodious, ominous voice.

 

“All she knows, if she can't relieve it, it grows.”

 

It seemed to come from all around them, echoing through the empty plaza as the heroes grunted in shock, looking around for a singing spirit, another enemy, while Necrolancer just clutched his reigns, his horse starting at the unexpected sound and nearly rearing up as he let his own eye sockets drift.

 

“And so, it goes. She crawls like a worm ,”

 

A flash, and suddenly everything was cold. Ice formed over the Eiffel tower, turning it into a massive ice sculpture, as the wave of magic flashed over them. The fountains, frozen in mid movement, the plants, covered in a layer of clear eyes as to preserve their beauty, looking more like colored glass then true life any more with the amount of ice around them.

 

And finally, she appeared, like a shadow from the night she was suddenly there, strolling towards the fight with lantern in hand, and a smile visible on her soft, snowy features.

 

“Crawls like a worm from a bird~”

Notes:

Bird and the Worm: The Used

Chapter 17: Thin Ice

Summary:

Winter is cold, but not unforgiving. And we finally see Gabriel in all of this mess

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

As the chilling voice died away on the winds, everyone was silent. from the shivering Chat Noir, who’s danger sense was telling him to run far, far away, to Ladybug, who was gripping her yoyo like she was trying to crush it.

 

And the Akuma, who was just smiling wider and wider.

 

“Ah, the guest of honor!” The skeletal being laughed, his teeth clettering together as he bowed his head to her. “The reason all of this could come about. The one who made hawkmoth desperate .” he purred, empyu sockets glinting with amusement as he waited for the girl to stumble, to freeze in shock.

 

Instead, he felt his own bones chilling in the cold air.

 

“And i suppose you are the one who is making this disgusting show, trying to rip those sleeping piecefully behind the veil to this side, ignoring the laws of nature. More specifically, MY laws.” The girl said cooly, her voice a cracking whip in the near silence.

 

“Your laws? are you truly that full of yourself, girl?” The rider chuckled. “that you think yourself powerful enough toclaim that lofty position? What gives you the right to say those are your laws?”

 

“hmm… i suppse my vessil is a bit misleading.” Menagerie said, looking at her own arm, the pale skin there, before sighing. “In truth, i cant even tell what part is me, and the other is my Kwami’s power anymore. but i suppose it dosnt really matter. I’ll figure it out once i stop you.” she mused, the chilling wind starting to pick up around her as she casually started strolling forward.

 

“Do you really think it would be that simple?!” Necrolancer laughed, waving his hand as he proved something that Chat Noir and Ladybug hadn't even thought of.

 

The only time they had been attacked from below, it was from things like manholes, drainage grates, and the like.

 

but what was mere solid stone, compared to an incorporial body.

 

In an instant, a Reaper was behind menagerie, scythe swinging with all its might as it tried to take the girls head off, to add another spirit to the army.

 

And the moment its blade kissed her skin, everything froze.

 

slowly, dull, grey eyes turned to look at the ghost, frozen in place as it was, its blade barely even knicking her skin asshe looked at it, before slowly turning to the stunned necrolancer.

 

“Did you truly think that one who had already failed my test, wouldd be strong nough to fight me?” she asked, her voice tinged with dissapointment… and amusement?

 

In that instant, the reaper fractured, turning into a thousand ice shards as they tinkled to the ground, leaving necrolancer fuming as he roared to the sky.

 

“Kill her, kill her! all of you, hold nothing back! destroy her very soul, wipe her from the face of the earth!” he roared, as a billowing wail echoed from everywhere as what seemed like a tide of pale lime green started roaring through the city, gathering speed and size as it approached.

 

In that moment, Chat Noir lost his battle with his instincts, snatching Ladybug from the ground, and almost earning a black eye in the process from the panicked punch she threw, he was gone, leaping to the top of the nearest building as he crouched there, ears all the way up and hair spikier then ladybug had ever seen it, watching the ocean of death roar towards the figure of Menagerie, who just looked… tired.

 

“Good. make my job easier. It means I have to spend less time looking for them all.” She mused, her figure flickering as they looked at it.

 

for just a moment, barely even a second, it wasnt a girl in a hoodie and sweats. it wasnt a silver haired beauty, looking bored to the world.

 

It was a massive, shaggy black form, golden eyes staring into a world that it found no love for, no reason to care for. It walked this icy path alone.

 

Then, she was the girl again, still just as alone on the icy road, even as enemies rushed her on all sides possible, every conceivable inch of the world filling with ghosts around her as they looked to steal her life from her.

 

“Final Rest.”

 

And Chat Noir knew no more.

 

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

 

Menagerie sighed as she heard the shattering of ice around her, frowning as she looked around, seeing the bare field of ice, the buildings, the tower, all gone. Only two remained. Only two survived.

 

The Akuma, frozen to the quick and groaning as ice covered its form, but still moving as its hosre dissolved under it, crushed white bone being all that was left as Necrolancer staggered to his feet.

 

And across from him, a spot of red in this land of white, Ladybug staggering to her feet, shivering against the freezing cold, with no shelter in sight.

 

“hmm… how weak. i had hoped more would still stand. But, those who survive, will survive.” she sighed, slowly starting to make her way to necrolancer, lntern swinging in her grip as its flame sputtered, flickering as it tried to recover from the massive amount of power she had just used.

 

“w… what are you?” The Akuma wheezed, looking at her as a slow, sad smile crossed the girl’s fetures, her eyes softening from the hard glare they had been to an almost… nurturing look.

 

“I am the Mothers final test. I am the cold, the night, the dark. I am mourning, death, and detatchment. I am age, i am the welcoming hand, guiding you past the reaper. I am Winter.” she said, her voice never leaving her low tone, but showing a bit more compassion. “And you passed my test. which makes this lall the harder for me.” she mused, hand slowly reaching out, toucing against the boney head as necrolancer froze, unsure of what to do.

 

“Sleep.” she whispered, as the ice appeared again, covering necrolancer from head to toe as Menagerie cast her gaze to Ladybug, her eyes wide in horror and confusion as Menagrie casually shattered the being in front of her, leaving naught but a black butterfly, trying desperatly to fly in this freezing cold.

 

“You know,” She started, smiling as she gently picked up the little butterfly, walking towards Ladybug with a slow, casual gait. “I’m not suprised you survived. None have a stronger will then the lady of Creation.” she mused, eyes glinting in amusement. “It’s one of the few things i enjoy about you. and you are, admittedly, asthetically pleasing to the eye. It is unfortunate that this has probably soured your thoughts about me. i would have liked to know you better. Alas, it was not ment to be. I could not see myself attatching to anyone in such a way anyways.” She mused aloud, her gentle, caring smile never leaving her face as she let the butterfly go, only Ladybug’s instincts making her snap the yoyo out, catching it mid air, as Menagerie simply started walking away. “Please use the cure soon, i have things at hme waiting for me.” she said, before dissapearing in a flash of winter air as ladybug shook her head.

 

she could puzzle that out later.

 

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

 

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

 

Hawkmoth sat back in his chair, breathing for the first time in what felt like years as he finally fel tthe clensing magic of Ladybug’s cure rushing through paris, restoring taken lives and repairing damage as almost everyone came back screaming, crying, or shivering. He could feel thefear, the negative emotions everywhere, and almost felt sick with himself as he ripped the broach off, throwing it to the side as he panted, his suit dissapearing as he sat there, processing. thinking. breathing.

 

After maybe half an hour, he picked up the miraculous again, allowing nooru to come out, exausted and terrified, as he cuddled against Gabriel’s neck. The fasion mogul knew it wasnt out of any kind of affection, just the need to be close to someone after feeling… that.

 

As noru began eating his fill after they seperated, Gabriel paused, feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket. His personal line. With a frown, he reached in, looking at the number as a sigh escaped him. Opening it, he placed it to his ear. “Monsour Borgeois, how may i he-” he started, before freezing, his eyes widening as the phone fell from his grip.

 

In an instant, he snatched it up, putting it right back to his ear. “I’m sorry Andre, i must have misheard you, what did you say?!”

 

-----------

 

Nearly half an hour earlier, Menagerie appeared in a flurry of ice and show in her rom, watching as the Cure worked its way through, restoring her butler to life as the ice was banished, a smile finally spreading over her lips as she finally let go of the lantern, placing it in its resting place in the unfolded box with almost mechanical movements as she spoke. “Demis, melt away.” she said, smiling as the power finally left her, feeling the world in an entierly new way as Demis’s detatched nature finally fled from her as the timberwofl kwami appeared infront of her, looking despondant, but with a kind smile on her face as she patted chloe on the head.

 

“Excelent work, pup.” She breathed, before floating over to the box, slowly resting herself inside her lantern as she napped, regaining the power she had used, taking the drain mostly upon herself.

 

As Jean woke, he woke to the sound of somthing collapsing, his eyes widening as he shot up just in time to see Chloe fall to the ground, her breath fluttering and her form shivering as she did so.

 

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

 

“Chloe’s in a coma.” Andre said, panicing. “They dont know why, and she wont wake up. have you seen adrien?! he’s not answering his phone and officer Raincomprix refuses to ask his daughter about her school life. There has to be somthing there that caused this, right?! The cure washed over the city, it couldnt be from the Akuma!”

 

As Andre’s panicked ramblings flowed over the phone, Gabriel nearly collapsed himself, hand moving to his head as pure dread filled him.

 

what had he done?

Notes:

Aint i a stinker~

Chapter 18: Marching On

Summary:

A princess sleeps, life moves on, and things are set in motion tgat should never have been.

Notes:

This chapter. Was such. An effing. B*/=!. O have been agonizing over where i shouod start it fir the LOOOOOONGEST time. I kept wondering if i should start from the beginning, or timeskip. So i said Fuck it and did both.

 

Also, earning. Spoilers in the comments.

Chapter Text

“What was she thinking!” Bullot hissed, hands to his head as he floated around Chloé’s unoccupied room, hissing and spitting as he questioned the intelligence of his fellow Kwami, their wielder, her family, and the city of Paris in general. “We tell her not to use her miraculous, that she’s exhausted, that it wouldn't be good. And what does she do? She uses a fucking Season!”

 

“Bullot, you and I both know there was no other choice, calm yourself.” Artemista muttered, sitting on the edge of their box as she casually cracked a peanut, her preferred snack. Salty compared to Bullot’s sweet chocolate. “If she hadn't used Demis, the entire city would have likely been wiped out, or the wish would have hit and we might not have ever met her.”

 

“You say that as you're on your fourth bag of nuts.” Bullot scoffed, looking at all the discarded shells in the nearby trash can, as well as the empty bags they had been in. “Stress eating much?”

 

“We all have our ways of keeping ourselves calm. The difference is, mine actually works, while yours just leaves you spitting mad and out of breath.” Artimista said cooly, earning a laugh from her Contra.

 

“You sure about that, dear partner mine? That was very undiplomatic!” Bullot chuckled, needling her even as he flew over to one of the girl’s hidden stashes of chocolates, taking only a few chips from a bag of cookies she had stashed there as well.

 

“And for a Kwami of war, you don't seem to have the knowledge to know when to back down from a fight.” Artemista shot back, earning another laugh from Bullot as they moved to sit next to each other.

 

It had been three days since Necrolancer’s attack. During that time, a grand total of three humans had come to the door. The first, was the man who Chloé had gone mad over. The second, was her father. The third was a blonde boy, who smelled so strongly of Destruction they had hid their box under the bed and stayed quiet until they were sure he was gone.

 

They would not out their mistress to a nosy cat of all things. She would never forgive them, and they would be a laughing stock the moment the others woke up.

 

“Any news from your eavesdropping?” Artemista finally asked, earning a sigh from Bullot.

 

“Just that she’s still out, no one else seems to know, and of that no one else seems to care. Noone is asking after her, and if I wasn't sure that she would disavow me in an instant I would make an ant, and set the town ablaze.” Bullot said coldly. “And even with that hanging over my head, it's the fact she would overdose on you because of it that’s staying my hand.”

 

“You don't have to keep playing tough with me. That girl wormed her way into your heart the moment you first bonded with her, same as she did me. There's just… something about her soul that makes you want to hold it close, protect it. And i'm sure if Demis wasn't sleeping like the dead she guards, she would say the same.” The dodo said, both of them looking at the box, seeing the four elements again now that the box was fully opened.

 

Demis’s lantern, stone-like metal holding it's ice-like glass together. Bles’s drumsticks, Long pieces of polished and carved wood, tipped with white covering ls that almost made them look like miniature Bokken. Yiin’s mask, A snarling black Ink that looked like it could come alive at any moment. And finally, Yung’s watering can, a gentle silver thing no larger than a milk jug, but elegantly carved with symbols of flowers and dancing cats. the symbols of the four seasons, each one different in their own ways, each one powerful.

 

But only one awake.

 

Demis was clearly visible within her lanturn, sleeping for all the world to see within her glass confines like there was nothing wrong in the world. She had taken much of the strain when the two had transformed, meaning she had to get it all back. At the rate she was going, she would be asleep for at least another week. And as she was a Kwamii, that didn't bode well for their mistress’s recovery.

 

And she needed to be back soon, lest Bullot do something he'd regret.

 

At that thought, the ant’s attention turned back to the black box resting on Chloé’s bed. a gift, that would be waiting for her upon her return, and clenched his mandibles, eyes tracing the delicate thorny vines, the colorful flowers, and the majestic centerpiece resting in the center.

 

Another Miracle Box, this one much older and much more dangerous than their own. They were OLD. From the moment there was thought, they were there, tempting and coercing. From the moment life took its first breath, the others had been there, watching and waiting to pounce.

 

And as long as there had been a spark of a soul, the third eldest of the Kwami, the one sparked from Creation’s own emotions, had been there. Watching, smiling, and giggling.

 

Chloé needed to get back, and soon.

 

Or Bulllot was going to break that box open, take the Miraculous under the yellow rose, and fly it to her like nothing else mattered in the world.

 

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

 

Adrien was not having a good week. Ever since Necrolancer, may he be forgotten quickly, he had been off. He had felt the fear in his soul, his instincts screaming at him to run, and then he was alone. standing on a recently repaired rooftop surrounded by people in the streets, and trying to remember what had happened. All he knew was that he had a newfound hatred for the cold, and his sister was in a coma.

 

To be honest, that last one was the most important to him. Chloé was in the hospital, being kept alive through tubes supplying her nutrients, and apparently had been driven there by exhaustion. Exhaustion he had seen, and said nothing about.

 

How could he have been so stupid. He had literally seen her pass out on a nearby bench for Kwamii’s sake! She never slept anywhere but her own thousand dollar mattress, and even then it was only until she found a more expensive one. To find her out cold on a bench ?! he should have known something was wrong.

 

and yet he had laughed. Brushed it off and joked with her. Been told not to say a word.

 

If he had, would she still be here right now?

 

As he agonized over his own thoughts, he didn't notice Marinette, looking worriedly at him. He didn't see Sabrina, looking confused but not saying a word at her empty seat, one that had been empty all week now.

 

what he did notice, was Kim laughing about how the ‘Queen Bee had flown the hive’.

 

He nearly leapt over the desks and strangled the jock, but kept himself in check. He wasn't going to say a word, after all. She had told him not to tell, so she wouldn't, even if she wasn't here to make sure he was silent.

 

But that didn't mean he wasn't listening, keeping his ears open to make sure that if they said a word about her, he would know. and he would remember.

 

Cats were often described as beings of spite, after all. He wouldn't mind showing them how true that was.

 

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

 

It had been nearly a month, and Ladybug was about to pull her pigtails out in stress.

 

“You would think  lack of Akuma would make things LESS stressful.” she muttered, earning a nod from Chat as he sat with ehr on the Eiffel tower, silent as a grave and just as serious. Yet another thing stressing her out.

 

Every patrol they had together, Chat had been dead silent, focused on something else. It was like he had not come back after the Final Test. Urgh. Even thinking those words reminded her of the cold, the death, the sheer emptiness that had only been pushed away by her will to fight, by the fire in her belly Necrolancer had stoked with his actions. She knew that if she had even thought of running, she wouldn't have survived. Her fire would have been snuffed out, crushed under winter’s icy boot.

 

But, that was neither here nor there. Here, was her on patrol with a taciturn partner, and enough anst to choke a classroom of goth teens. She needed fresh air.

 

“Chat, I think that’s enough patrol today. Another empty day with no butterflies and even less petty crime. go ahead and head home, ok?” Ladybug sighed, earning a nod from the cat as he instantly started roof hopping to… the east?

 

“the only thing in that direction is the hospital, unless he lives in the medical district.” She muttered, before her brian crashed to a stop and she shook her head. No, no looking into his actions. She wasn't going to even try to figure out who he was outside of the mask, and that was dangerous territory.

 

No, it was time to go home and work on some designs. That always got her mind off of things.

 

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

 

After two months of silence, of no attacks, and of anxious gods, a pair of sapphire eyes opened.

 

And the world held its breath, waiting for the next bomb, even as the girl was swarmed by open arms holding her tight.

 

Most would say the walking dead had vanished two months ago, that there were no ghosts left in the world. A father, a brother, and a guardian knew better, however.

 

Because the moment Chloé opened their eyes, they felt life breath back into their guilty souls, and they cried.

Chapter 19: Forced Retreat

Summary:

The consiquences stack up, and somthing wicked makes a move

Notes:

I had no idea if this chapter would be good or not, but it needed to be written. Now... To think up where to go from here.

Fun fact, the chapter originaly ended right after Chloe settled in.

Chapter Text

“What do you mean homeschooled!?” Chloé almost roared after she had come to terms with the fact that she had been unconscious for two months from her little foray into winter. And as if losing that much time wasn't bad enough, her father had just dropped THAT particular bomb on her. “Homeschool is for those who can't make it in normal school, and i dont fail at anything!”

 

“Darling,” Her Papa started, making her wince. his tone was…. not soft. “You have been in a coma for two months. you will be in a wheelchair at least that long as you work yourself back to walking, and even then you would either need a cane or crutches until you were back to full strength. You worked yourself to exhaustion from your school work and stress, and apparently haven't even been treated well while you were there. So forgive me for not bowing to your whims this time.” he said, voice sterner then she had heard it in quite a while.

 

“But- but what about mother? she can't be happy with me spending even more time at home.” She said, barely catching her father’s wince before wincing herself. Wow… When had home shifted from her father’s actual house, to her penthouse? the fact she was just noticing this in that light couldnt be a good thing either.

 

“Your mother… isn't taking this very well. While we are still in love, she thought it best to… return to america. At least for a few months. She needs to take care of her business, after all.” He finally said, and deep inside Chloé’s chest, she felt something break.

 

At her weakest moment, at her lowest point, her mother had left her. Again.

 

She hated how she couldn't even reach up to wipe the tears that started falling at that without strain.

 

“Chlo, it's fine. I’ll come over every day, I promise.” Adrien said, earning a scowl from his sister figure before a small smile spread across her face.

 

“... Thank you, Adrien. But you had better not let your grades slip! i didn't put all that effort into getting you into that school only for you to fail now that i'm not there.” She shot back, earning a smile from Adrien as she turned to Jean.

 

Jean, who she had saw die. Jean, who she had thought might not come back.

 

Jean, who was right here in front of her as she laid back, openly crying in relief at seeing him as he smiled, gently patting the girl’s head as her sobs wracked her body.

 

“There, there, mademoiselle. I'm fine. Though I was worried you wouldn't be. Never do that to me again, do you hear me? I nearly had a heart attack when you simply fell on your face like that.” The head butler, her personal caretaker, said sternly, earning a sniffling nod as her eyes fluttered.

 

“Go to sleep, sweetheart.” Her papa said soothingly, nodding to Jean as she felt his much larger hand rubbing her head. “I swear to you that you’ll be back home by the time you wake up.

 

She hoped he was telling the truth… she hated hospitals…

 

That was the last thought Chloé had before sleep reclaimed her, and she felt exhaustion pull her past dreams, and into the dark.

 

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

 

“I swear to you, Bullot, that if you laugh at me like this I will end you.” Chloé hissed, mortified as she awoke to see her two Kwamii out in the open, and looking down at herself in shock and a bit of shame.

 

she was back in her room. Even if it had changed a bit, it was still her room.

 

It was her own state that embarrassed her.

 

She felt pads, washable and obviously meant for an older person, sitting under her lower half. she felt something… uncomfortable, resting there too. like overly thick panties.

 

It was mortifying.

 

“Please tell me one of the Kwami in the box can do something about this.” She almost begged, looking at the two.

 

She expected Bullot’s dark look. He was surly in general, and was even worse when she brought up using other Kwamii.

 

Artemisia's was an entirely different story.

 

“No, no, and again i say no! you will not use another Kwami for at least a week! not even us!” the dodo proclaimed harshly. “You barely just came out of a coma, and you're already looking to use another Kwamii?! no! you will rest, you will recover, and then, and ONLY THEN! will we consider that!” The fuzzy goddess lectured, earning a grimace from Chloé as she looked to Bullot for some kind of support. Any kind.

 

The dark look and slow shake of the head she got were all the answers she needed.

 

“Both of you are being unfair. I can't so much as pick up a miraculous? can i at least touch the new box?” Chloé asked, looking at the intricate black art piece sitting next to her bed. A Gift for when she could reach it. a goal. She could feel the magic pouring off it in waves too.

 

“If you so much as lay a finger on that box before you’ve recovered, i will personally put you to sleep myself, and make sure you wont wake up til your recovered, even if i have to move your limbs myself!” Artemista hissed, sounding like an angry raven with the sound as the blonde reared back, eyes wide.

 

Artemisia's normally neutral face was missing. Instead, there was a frown, with two red eyes staring down at her in anger, the depths of them filled with the emotion reflected in protective instinct. 

 

That was scarier than anything Bullot had done to date, so Chloé just sat back and looked at her setup. Her phone, a laptop, a headset with a microphone in case she wanted to use text to speech, and another swing out tray under it that would hold her food whenever it was delivered.

 

“so. when does my first ration of soup and water come in?” The annoyed teenager asked, knowing full well what would be coming to greet her stomach with some of the shows she had watched. Despite her hatred for the dish itself, she knew it would be one of the VERY few things she could eat for quite a while. Still, even as the thought of soup made her frown, she could FEEL her stomach growl in anticipation as she sighed, not noticing the two Kwami looking at each other.

 

“I’ll go look.” Bullot said simply, floating into the air and taking off, making sure to stay well above all the heads below him as he went searching for his mistress’s meal.

 

Leaving Chloé looking at an angry Artemista, watching her like a hawk as she sighed, and leaned back.

 

This was going to be a long few weeks…

 

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

 

What Bullot and Artemista didn't know, was that the black box, the box many had said would end the world if it ever woke up, was already very active. Two months ago it felt a magic brush against it, sink into it, worm through its defences. That had put every Kwami in the box on high alert, looking for that tantalizing taste of freedom.

 

The magic was bittersweet, like honeydew honey. Sweet enough to tingle the tongue, but bitter enough to catch attention. A soul ripe for the tempting. Someone who could free them.

 

It didn't matter how the flavors changed. How it became spicy, sweeter, or even chilled. It was still that same bitter honey underneath that they wanted.

 

That delicious magic spoke of hardship, abandonment, anger and fear. of despair, tinged with crushed hopes. The recent surge of joy was just the icing on the cake.

 

They didn't want the magic that stunk of sweet shugars, stained with acrid worry and stress.

 

They didn't want the stinking magic of cheese and destruction, who had come close as they had pulled away, hiding within their depths.

 

It was this sweetness they craved, that they wanted, that they NEEDED. Magic strong enough to tempt gods above and below, even if it was a mortal.

 

slowly, the dark tendrils reached, settling into the girl’s shadow as they wove their way to her, gently touching upon her form as she rested, having forced down a meal and exhausted herself in the process. slowly, they reached into her dreams, and waited.

 

She would come, sooner or later.

 

In the meantime, these seven would enjoy the bittersweet taste that filled them.

Chapter 20: Call from Allies

Summary:

Recovery goes much slower when your dreams arent restful.

Notes:

I was going to wait until Wednesday, but I'm bored and want to see reactions so screw it.

Chapter Text

Chloé blinked her eyes, looking at the black area around her, and sighed. “Great… here again. i've been having this same dream since i got home.” She muttered, standing calmly as she looked around the dark space. “at least i can hear myself this time. normally i'm just stumbling around in the dark. …. aaaand i'm talking to myself. Congratulations, Chloé. you're officially insane.” she muttered, putting a hand to her face and sighing.

 

“Well, I wouldn't say that~” a voice purred, making the blonde freeze as she felt… something grabbed her from behind, arms wrapped around her stomach as someone nuzzled her neck. “After all, we all heard you. It just… took us some time, to finally find you. Your soul is oso big, after all~ we got lost.” the voice purred, making Chloé realize two things. First, no matter how nice the touch felt, this girl was WAY too close!

 

Second, which she only realized after struggling to get out of her hold, was why the voice sounded familiar.

 

It was hers.

 

Slowly, ever so slowly, light started filling the dark space. Seven flickering torches, floating seemingly in mid air, lit up a massive room around her, with six figures in view. All doing something different.

 

and all Chloé.

 

One was dressed in a form fitting suit of armor, boots firmy on the ground as she sat on a short stool, a table in front of her field to the brim with sweet, honey covered treats she was scarfing down. Her helmet was on the table, turned away so she could only see the rounded back, but it looked.. animalistic. as did the tribal markings covering her face as she stuffed it. It made Chloé’s stomach ache and rumble all at the same time.

 

Another was looking through photos, biting her lip as she lounged in a dress that looked like it was made of scales, a blue domino mask on her face all she used to cover her identity as she looked over the pictures and scowled, hands moving to rip one apart before sighing, placing the fully intact picture back on the couch beside her and fishing for another in the box.

 

The third was a wildly ginning version of her, arms bare to the shoulder as she laid into a punching bag, a dark red and battered shirt only barely covering the rest of her torso as she laid into it, a bandana serving as her mask, with cut eye holes and everything, as her bare feet flexed against the ground, tattered red shorts being the only thing she wore below the waist.

 

the fourth and fifth were together, though not seemingly through any workings of either of them. The forth was wearing, of all things, pajamas, with an odd nightcap on her head as she dozed, eyes only half awake as she rested, resting her head on the lap of the fifth. A Kimono clad girl, smiling as she looked over a collection of… familiar jewelry. The ears atop her head, conical and pointed, were flicking this way and that as she picked up her prizes, looking them over as she smiled, placing the amulet back on her lap as it finally clicked.

 

those were the miraculous from her box. The six that were jewelry anyways.

 

“What the hell do you think you're doing with those?!” Chloé snapped, finally pushing the girl behind her off, catching a glimpse of her out of the corner of her eye and shuttering.

 

Hoof-like boots, fuzzy leggings, a furry pair of shorts that covered almost nothing, a fuzzy binding over her chest, and a purple mask covering her eyes with a pair of swirling horns atop her head, a short fuzzy tail flicking in eager anticipation as the whip on her haist seemed to catch the light.

 

“Get your hands off of those!” Chloé hissed, ignoring the copy that had been holding her as she all but storned over to the kimono-clad Chloé, who was now looking sharply at the original even as she strode forward, hands looking ready to strangle her. “Those are mine, you have no right to touch them!”

 

And, instead  of looking angry, the copy she was storming towards looked… approving, smiling and nodding her head eagerly, pushing the treasures to the side to rest on the sleeping copy’s stomach as she stood, meeting the irate blond face to face before snatching her in a tight hug.

 

That.. took all the fight out of Chloé, both out of sheer shock, and from the warmth that she barely ever felt, the sound of the girl behind her almost squealing in delight hastily bringing her back.

 

“What is with you copycats and touching me?! let go!” she hissed, catching the attention of the girl at the sandbag.

 

“nope nope!” Kimono said happily. “Not letting you go. our mine now. All mine. one of my treasures!”

 

“Hey, don't hog her!” the fuzzy one cried. “She’s all of ours! not just yours!”

 

“She may use all of you, but she’s mine.” Kimono shot back. “Mine mine mine.”

 

“Enough, both of you.” A final voice said, making all the girls in the room freeze, and even making the sleeper stir for just a moment before slipping back into unconsciousness.

 

great. this is my dream and yet a copy is the one sleeping ’ was all that went through Chloé’s mind before she was ripped away from the touchy Kimono, coming to a clear space between all of them as she found herself at the foot of a throne.

 

Already knowing what she would find, and dreading it, Chloé slowly looked up to meet the face of the final copycat.

 

Crimson eyes burned down at her from atop a golden throne, as a Chloé in long, silken pants, a beautifully crafted shirt, coupled with jewelry and a cape of all things stared down at her, looking satisfied with her with the crown atop her head.

 

yet she could see it was false.

 

The shirt was nice, but worn. the pants, torn in places. The kingly robe had holes in it, and the crown looked tarnished.

 

Still, this being looked royal, and that seemed to be all that mattered to it.

 

“Who are you? why the hell are you in my… Soul? we’re in my soul right now?” Chloé asked, blinking as the words from the hugger finally caught up to her.

 

“Yes, indeed we are. good enough, i suppose, for me to rest my head in.” King said matter of factly. “Though I suppose i should introduce my little band. We are the sins, first line of defence of the Black Box. I am pride, the girl stuffing her face is obviously Gluttony, the girl in blue is Envy, sandbag is Wrath, Sleeper is Sloth, the kimono is Greed, and finally the one that got to touch you first is Lust.” She muttered, a small scowl lingering over her face before she continued. “Normally, we wouldn't be talking like this. We wouldn't be in contact at all even, if it weren't for all of… this.” Pride purred.

 

“All of what. This big, empty void that is supposed to be my soul?” Chloé asked, looking around and scoffing. “Doesn't look like much.”

 

“And yet it is dripping, bleeding magic like a fountain.” Pride said, pointing to the various honey covered foods on Gluttony’s table. “you touched upon us while we were still coming here, felt us as we now feel you. and strode casually past us to meet our charge. And that intrigues us. Your emotions, tantalizing, your power, flowing freely like water, and your temptation, unwavering. you called to us for MONTHS, called us to you like a siren’s song.”

 

“It was amazing~ ” lust cooed, in a way that made Chloé shiver.

 

“And in return, we took on aspects of you, preparing ourselves for you.” Pride smiled, pointing at each of the others in turn. “Your gluttony for power and fame, even as lessened as it is. Your envy at the heroes who got to keep their miraculous, at their ability to keep fighting and, just recently, the fact they don't suffer as you do. Your wrath at the world, over being abandoned, cast aside, and forgotten. Your sloth, the temptation of just giving in, stopping your resistance, and just letting everything go past you. Your covetous Greed, wanting to keep your miraculous, acquire more, and how you want to keep them safe, even if only for yourself. Your want to rule, to be in charge, to crush those who look down on you. The one that changed the most though, is Lust.” She said, smirking at Chloé’s blank face.

 

“Lust?! The touchy feely one that grabbed me as soon as she found me?! and with how she’s dressed, i'm not really sure how i changed ANY of that.” Chloé muttered, taking a side eye at the cheerful looking girl, lounging on a newly spawned chair.

 

“Well, in truth, it's something altogether different. Instead of the Carnal lust she usually feeds on, she has found a different kind in you. A lust for power, and for acceptance.”

 

“... i don't like where you're going with this.” Chloé said, slowly turning to look at the now smiling lust.

 

“She is your lust for companionship. For most, during that little hug she would have had her hands wandering all over you, trying to incite something with her touches. But the simple feeling of being held, of seeing you held by Greed, has satisfied her. She is longing, wanting to be cared for. In all honesty, she is every bit of wanting that you crave from others, tapped in a single body.”

 

“.... That's either a lie, or you guys are the WORST attempt at the seven sins ive seen.” Chloé said casually, earning a brking laugh from Pride as she leaned down, looking down at their host with a smile.

 

“We shall see, little wielder. For now, i beleive it is time you awaken. we will speak again soon.”

 

As son as she said that, Chloé felt somthng PRESS against her, sending her skidding back, sent flying through the void as she finally saw her soul in its entierty.

 

Saw the fractured cracks spanning its whole body, an etherial copy of her own.

 

saw the missing chunks. Two atop her head, in places one would find hairclips, and one over her chest, seemingly spread out and spotted, like a familiar costume she had thrown away.

 

And she saw where the kwami had nestled themselves.

 

Around her head, and touching her heart, she could see strings of red and blue, Bullot and Artemisia, filling tiny parts of her voids.

 

And in her belly, where the biggest crack that wasnt just flat out missing was, she could FEEL the sins, resting in the very storage of her magic.

 

In that moment, the blonde awoke, nearly shouting as she sat up, panting from exaustion and strain as she rested herself against her folding tablle. “That… was not fun.”

 

“What. Wasn't.” a stern voice nearby said, Making the blonde sloooowly turn, seeing an incredibly unamused Artemista floating above the black box, the decorative flower drawings now in stunning reality, seven rainbow colored flowers laying open in their places, with seven rings resting in their petals.

 

A Boar, a Serpent, aDragon, a Bear, a Fox, a Goat, and a Lion stared back at her, the faces of the mighty beasts serving as the decorative emblems of the silver pieces of jewelry, seemingly staring at her as the Blonde blinked, slowly looking from them to the incensed Artemista.

 

“... thats it. Im never sleeping again.”

Chapter 21: Emotional Spike

Summary:

Chloé explains her dreams, finds somthing painful, and hawkmoth finally resurfaces.

Notes:

Sorry for the wait, this story actually slipped my mind fir a bit after the sins. I'm back now and hope to update thus a but more often.

Chapter Text

“So, let me get this painfully clear.” Artemista sighed, sloooooowly breathing out as she looked her wielder dead in the eye, her half lidded reds showing her extreme displeasure and annoyance. “Lately, you’ve been having a dream, wandering around in a dark void. Last night, you met the sins, who claim you bonded with them months ago, probably right after you tried to use all the miraculous of the previous box at once. Because i know for a fact that was both stupid, could have killed you, and you are very lucky they saw you as nothing more then a slightly rude child.” Artemista said calmly. “Even then, putting on that many miraculous leaves its marks, and probably resonated with every magic item out there. Which isn't good. Anyways, they spoke to you, let you out of your dream and, i cannot stress this enough, you saw your soul? and it was damaged?” She asked, eyes alight with worry and anger.

 

“... Yes?” Chloé asked, looking worried. “it… was a bit disconcerting. especially because I know where those damages were. Two on my head, that you and bullot are trying to fill, a multitude of spotty holes over my chest, and a massive area in my gu -core. in my core..” she muttered, blushing slightly at having messed up the term again after being lectured like this for the better part of an hour. “the only one i can't account for is in my core.”

 

“Probably from the magic backlash of having that many miraculous on at once. Knowing you, you didn't feel anything besides annoyance?” Bullot asked, earning a sharp glare before sighing. “That's what i thought. you have a lot of magic in you, so having that much forced in just by proximity to gods isn't surprising. Neither is you not noticing when it blew out every protection your body naturally puts on your core. you have, quite literally, been leaking magic for months now. Any Kwami with a brain could feel it, and if they were not drawn to it they're either insane, bonded, or have a prejudice against you. Which is probably why none of the jewelry in the Creation box went spontaneously missing and found its way to you.” Bullot explained calmly.

 

“Which makes our job all the harder, as what should have taken a few days for you to recover if it was all in place, has taken over a week and you're still not entirely better, leaving us with few options…” Artemista sighed. “Where were your other scars dear.”

 

“On either side of my head, where i could wear a hair clip. or a comb.” Chloé said, sighing. “And across my chest, like spots on a ladybug. Marks from when I've been akumatized.” She said, earning wide looks from the two.

 

“Yet another reason to be worried. Most people don't suffer damage to their soul from something like that. Wy did you?” Artemista asked cautiously.

 

“Wait, i know the answer to this one. you told that hawkmoth guy, back when Ditzi was still asleep, that you rejected him once before right? that would yank hard on your magic.”

 

“Well, yes.” Chloé said, looking at them curiously. “I wanted to be a hero. to be like… ugh… like ladybug.” she muttered, clutching her stomach like she was going to be sick, a taste of sour sugar flitting around in her mouth before vanishing. “So when he offered it to me, I refused, cast him away. after that… Well, I was angry. my hero didn't believe me when i told her what the item was. Thought i was lying to get attention. That's when I was akumatized.”

 

“And got the spots over your chest in your soul.” Artemista sighed, having seen in her memories every time she had fallen to that temptation. “And it was all downhill from there.”

 

“Well that doesn't help us now. I’m already like this, damaged. Imperfect. Not ex- Not healing.” Chloé muttered, having almost bitten her tongue at her last words. “So how do we fix this.”

 

“Two options, both of which Artemista refuses to even think on.” Bullot said casually. “She wants you to heal naturally, which could take months. I, on the other hand, have no qualms about you using these guys. they might even stabilize you, though i clearly favor my own box over that one.” He said, motioning to the now flowering box on the table as Chloé sighed, hand absently moving to trace the vines.

 

“Go on.” She muttered, her hand drifting to the center flowers.

 

“Well, firstly, we have Slipp, Kwami of Apathy. He’s in our box, and has an ability to drain energy from those around him, filling himself up. The recharge, to me and artemisia's expenditure. The only kwami i know of that actively replenishes the user’s energy instead of potentially draining it.” Bullot said, nodding to the box Chloé was handling. “The other option is in that yellow rose. Gluttony. Not much is known about the sins, but I’m the best in the know outside of anyone in the box. I have family in there. I talk to them occasionally, and Bublic is a notoriously bad gossip.” he said, nodding as Chloé’s hand drifted over the posie. She shivered a bit, feeling a slight churning in her gut. Plague. she knew it instinctively, but… it didn't really feel any different then she had been feeling since she woke up.

 

“And what does Gluttony do?” Chloé forced herself to ask, looking at the ring with the elegantly styled boar resting in the yellow rose. “From the sound of it i'm eating something.”

 

“Magic.” Bullot said, nodding as Artemista whipped around to look at him, eyes wide. “Gluttony eats magic, doesn't matter the source. it would let you recover your magic through just a few meals with him. Don't know exactly what you would snack on, but something tells me those little black butterflies wouldn't taste so bad.” He said, making Chloé smile as her hand drifted again, touching on the bamboo flower as she felt the movements in her stomach stop, a low pain hitting her there instead. It felt like she was starving, wanting to eat, to stuff herself. to make it go away. Famine. Again, not something new. She had felt hungry since she woke up, constantly craving more to help her get her energy reserves back up.

 

“So, either I touch on apathy, or gluttony. Neither of these sound like a good option bullot.” hloe said casually, looking at the ant as her hand drifted again, touching on the spider lilly as she felt a chill waft over her. Death. the end of all things. Something told her it was supposed to feel… intimidating? But she had seen death, felt it. She had all but touched it when bonded with Demis. to her, this chill felt calm, gentle, almost made her sleepy. With a sad shake of her head, she kept her fingers moving.

 

“Well it's either that, or months of recovery. your choi-” Bullot started, before her hands brushed the white iris in the center of the box.

 

Pain.

 

Pain like a fire, a thousand needles pricking through her arm at once, a sword through her chest and an arrow through her eye/. Her body was wracked with pain, with the uncontrollable urge to sob, to bash away her attacker to get it to leave her alone. Something was hurting her, trying to fill her, but it felt like they were pouring molten lava into her body.

 

she felt her little gods pull her hand away as the pain vanished, leaving her curled in on herself as she panted, Artemista immediately starting to look over the box.

 

“Let’s continue this discussion another time.” She said, voice cold as Bullot slowly nodded, looking incredibly shocked as Chloé shuttered and sobbed, slowly flying backwards as she tried to focus herself.

 

What had been that incredible pain? Why had it hurt so much?

 

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

 

“Ok I know for a fact there isn't a single curse on that box that could do that.” Bullot growled, looking at Artemista as she nodded sadly. “So what was that.”

 

“It seems… one of the Kwami in the box rejected her. Or her it. Or maybe its touch was just painful to her.” Artemista said slowly, looking anywhere but at her contra as he snarled.

 

“Who was it. Bublic? Fianna? I swear of it was Salash i dont care if he’s the kwami of Death i will murder hi-”

 

“It was Nixie.” Artemista said sadly, making his eyes widen before they narrowed.

 

“... It makes sense.” He begrudgingly admitted, much to his contra’s shock as she looked at him.

 

“How does it make sense?! they are the nicest, gentlest Kwamii i’ve ever heard of since Tiki herself!” Artemista almost growled, but earned a head shake from Bullot.

 

“This is a kid who has always had to look out for double speak, who has never had something to defend herself with that didn't have a hilt made of thorns. Who’s closest thing to love happened a week ago after being in a coma for two months. I would say that Hope is well and truly a foreign concept to that girl, and trying to fill her with it is akin to touching matter and antimatter. They just don't mesh.” He said, his voice sad, but harsh at the same time.

 

He hated that fact, more than anything else.

 

But he couldn't do anything but rage about it as his wielder cried herself into an uneasy slumber.

 

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

 

Across the city, two kids were playing in the park. one was tall, for his age at least, and lanky. He stood a head over the girl he was playing with, and easily outran her as they were playing.

 

“Come on, mary! hurry up!” he said, smiling as Mary panted, her shorter stature making it hard for her to keep up, even as she tried her hardest.

 

“i’m not fast like you Luke!” She whined. earning a laugh as he continued moving, circling around to tap her on the back as she pouted. The second time, it turned into an angry frown

 

There wasn't a third, as she reached out her leg, tripping Luke as he stumbled and crashed, face first into the dirt, as she laughed.

 

“That's what you get!” she said, smiling a childish smile as she leaned down, already starting to help him up as he scowled at her, teary eyed and red face.

 

“Why did you do that?!” he shouted, gabbing at her even as she was helping him, grabbing a sapphire blue ribbon out of her hair as she scowled, grabbing the other side.

 

“Give it back!” she shouted, Even as the adults stood, looking ready to intervene as the parents sighed.

 

the two had been friends since they had met, but this wasn't the first time something like this had happened.

 

Thankfully, their little squabbles had never been enough to attract-

 

Almost as if called by Murphy himself, the black butterfly landed on the ribbon, sinking into it as the butterfly mask appeared over their faces.

 

‘Thunderbolt, it's not fun when people don't play by the rules, is it? you just want to play, after all. to run free, no matter what gets in your way. I can give you that power. All you need to do is get me Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous. do we have a deal?

 

Both children seemed to brighten at that. Running was fun, and if Mary could actually keep up with Luke, it would be even better.

 

“We accept!” they said, almost in unison as two gap toothed miles met each other, even as the purple light enveloped them.

 

Soon, it was a single person standing there, still short, still childish, but gods if you could tell what gender they were, their mixed voice ringing out.

 

“I am Thunderbolt! Lets race, ok? 123-go!” they cried, before disappearing in a sonic boom, scattering everyone around them.

Chapter 22: Inhale

Summary:

A choice is made, a fight begins!

Notes:

hate writers block. hate, hate, hate it.

it was hard to get this out, but here it is! sorry if its a bit lackluster.

Chapter Text

“So, let me see if i have this correct.” Chloe sighed, her expression falling as she felt herself growing more exhausted by the second, leaning back into her bed as she lost the fight to stay upright. It had been an hour since he aching fire ( painagony why? whatwhowhere ) that had drained her, and she was now more thoroughly exhausted then she had been, making her head all the fuzzier, and her all the more willing to get some kind of energy back.

 

“One of them will help me recover the magic that I lost, while the other will help me recover energy, which will make it so my magic, flimsy as it currently is, stops having to support both me and itself and I DON'T have to dip into a well of sin. why are we considering this again?” She muttered, looking at the two.

 

“Because Sliip is the Kwami of Apathy, and will make your emotional state unbalanced?” Bullot pressed forward, like she was a particularly slow child. “And Fliicka, his Contra, is particularly energy intensive?”

 

“So, a choice between depression or an overly filthy pi-” Chloe started, before a pair of tiny hands covered her mouth faster then she could see the ant move, Artemista even tilting her head in confusion.

 

“Boar. Gluttony is a Boar, not a Pig. Do not compare him to a pig, he gets very offended. And angry Boar is dangerous.” Bullot said calmly, eyes watching the Sin box for any movement before sighing in relief. good. no movement.

 

“Ok…. I’m guessing it has something to do with that pink Miraculous in the original miracle box?” Chloe asked, earning a hasty nod.

 

“Gluttony and Daizzi are distantly connected, Joy being able to lead to Gluttony and Greed in excess. The little pink pig doesn't appreciate that, so despite being a minor Miraculous, tries to screw over the Boar any chance she gets. Illusions of food being a particular favorite. Which works him into a frenzy.” Bullot explained slowly, earning a nod.

 

“Never use the Boar when the Pig is on the field. got it.” Chloe muttered, adding it to her mental list of ‘Do Not Touch’. “But it's kind of a mute point. Every idea requires an Akuma to drain, as I'm not going to drain the populace, and apparently Hawkmoth has been quiet ever since I went ou-” she started, before an alarm blared on her phone. “... This is going to make people think i'm in league with him again, won't it.” She muttered, hand moving to massage her temples as she reached into the War box, pulling out the black Choker with the dancing bronze koi flowing around it. Holding it, she paused, waiting.

 

and waiting.

 

…. aaaand waiting.

 

“oh for the love-” Bullot muttered, floating over to the choker and casually reaching in with his magic, the spark of flame earning a yelp as the Kwami appeared.

 

Black scales glinted in the low light, shining like a night full of glittering stars. a long fish tail trailed behind it, slowly swaying as the Kwami floated there, looking at Bullot with annoyed eyes.

 

“Why? I was brooding. I would have come out soon.” The scaled Kwami asked, shaking his head as Bullot scoffed, turning to look at Chloe with dull, yet deep, topaz eyes. “So, you are to be my next wielder? Joy.” he muttered, looking deep into her eyes before slowly nodding. Apparently, he liked what he saw. “Your power has no keyword, only intent. It does it automatically, and will target whoever you want it to. Your phrase is ‘Dive Deep’ and ‘Surface’.” He said, sounding bored, yet also showing a small bit of… something, deep in his eyes. It was positive, but Chloe couldn't tell what it was.

 

With a sigh of her own, she made sure her door was locked… Bullot made sure her door was locked, and she gently put the choker around her neck.

 

“Sliip, Dive Deep.” She said, breathing in deeply as she felt the familiar, yet all the same alien, power flow into her.

 

In an instant she was on her feet, feeling the transformation overtake her as her hair darkened t an almost grey blonde, her eyes turning from blue to a light gold as her skin paled,  dark veil covering her features up moments later, leaving only her mouth and chin exposed, black lipstick covering her lips. as the magic traveled over the choker, turning it from a simple dancing fish to a lake of swimming silvery shapes, it began its work in earnest. A flowing black funeral gown, complete with dark boots, elbow length black gloves, and a slightly ruffled chest took the place of her more restful recovery clothes, even as she felt something appear on her waist. Glancing at the nearby mirror, it clicked, leaving her raising an eyebrow at the intricately carved ivory and gold on her waist.

 

Her weapon was an elegantly carved smoking pipe, relatively long thin with a golden cap, yet large and hefty enough it could serve as a club. Yet she knew its close combat function was for emergencies. She was a long range combatant, focusing on making enemies weaker. 

 

Even as she thought this, she felt the weight that had been on her already seeming to double, a haze forming in her mind as the joy she felt moments ago at finally, FINALLY being able to stand on her own two feet again lost a bit of its color, her eyes lazily drifting to the balcony as a new, if still muted excitement filled her.

 

In an instant, she was gone, a cloud of black smoke shooting from the window. a fish, swimming through the waters on a hunt.

 

Leaving Bullot, Artemista, and a still sleeping Demis behind to worry over her safety.

 

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

 

“i am way too out of shape for this.” Chat muttered, parkouring over buildings with the grace of a cat as he tried to catch a glimpse of the speeding Akuma, besides its long yellow trail. “Seriously Hawkmoth, you shut down Akuma for months, and the first one you do when you get back is speed based? It’s like he knows we’re lazy young people.” Adrien said, tossing a grin to his counterpart as she sighed, rolling her eyes even with the small smile that played over her lips.

 

“speak for yourself. I work for a living.” She said, grinning as chat nearly stumbled, before righting himself with a grin.

 

“cool. i guess you can pay for the first date then~” he teased, earning a barking laugh from his partner as she finally let go of some of her stress, even as her eyes tracked after the speeding Akuma.

 

“I’ll take you on a date when pigs fly, kitty.” She said, shooting him a smile as Chat actually tapped his finger to his chin in thought, playing it up as she laughed harder. “No, the pig kwamii doesn't count!”

 

‘Rats.” Chat huffed, snapping his gloved fingers as they kept up the pace, the levity at least lightening their spirits as they tried not to think about the last Akuma they had faced, the horror it had brought.

 

nope, just a couple of joking heroes, chasing after a speeding villain.

 

With that unspoken thought between them, Chat finally lept a building just in time to see a speeding figure coming towards him, his pole snapping out at leg level as he winced. If this worked, it was going to hurt.

 

“PULL OVER, SPEEDY! BEFORE I GIVE YOU ONE HECK OF A PARKING TICKET!” Chat called, wincing at how harsh he was being. Chat was supposed to be his freedom, not a mix of happyness and anxiety. He just needed to curb that flight response, and he could be himself again. just make sure he didn’t run if-

 

nope. not touching that memory.

 

 no sir.

 

“THUNDERCLAP STOPS FOR NO ONE!” The odd mixed tones of a combined Akuma yelled, as the speeding figure blew past, leaping over his pipe with the agility of a gymnast, vaulting over it like a pommel horse with about as much ease as he would have, before streaking off again.

 

“Seriously? What kind of Akuma is this? didn't even turn and try to take my Miraculous.” Chat muttered, right before the wind hit him, bowling him over into the nearby wall as he blinked, trying to figure out what just happened.

 

“I think they're trying to wear your down.” a clear, if slightly dower, voice drawled, instantly earning eyes up from the fallen felyne as he saw… someone. someone dressed in black, with an obvious Miraculous from the comically large smoking pipe. One his lady was looking at in shock.

 

It seemed Menagerie had returned.

 

“You think so?” he asked, his voice quavering just a hair as she nodded, smirking drolly. “And what do you think we should do about that? If we don't chase them, who knows what they could do to the city. “

 

“well, i suppose you should just leave that to me then.” Menagerie purred, her eyes flashing dangerously as she took her oversized pipe, took a deep breath from it, and exhaled, slowly letting a white smoke flow from between her lips, as she leaned back into the grey cloud around her like a chair.

 

Wait.. cloud?”

 

Yes, Menagerie was reclining in a cloud of grey smoke, slowly floating over a nearby building with a languid grace normally found in resting tigers, watching the two of them with a slow eyebrow raise, as if asking what they would do next.

 

Slowly looking at Ladybug, he shrugged, signaling he didn't know what to do, earning a sigh as she looked Menagerie head on.

 

“And what, pray tell, would your idea be?”

 

The slow, easy smile that spread over her lips, like a cat with a saucer of cream, made every hair stand up on the back of Chat’s thin neck.

 

“Why, exhaust them instead.” She said, like it was the simplest thing in the world, even as two sets of eyebrows raised two very suspicious brows.

 

she just smiled, casually blowing out another puff of smoke, and started explaining.

 

Chapter 23: Exhale

Summary:

Its suprisingly easy to trick children.

Less so to support a broken heart.

Notes:

Wanted to start uploading a new work soon, but wasnt going to do that and leave my loyal readers out in the cold. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Text

Thunderbolt cackled as they ran through the streets, running over, under, or through any obstacle that crossed their path as they moved, running through the entire city.

 

They knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the heroes would be chasing them. That's what heroes did, chased the bad guys until they were caught! or try and get ahead of them, and catch them that way!

 

Speaking of…

 

“Alright kiddos!” Chat said, smirking as he stood in front of them, pole stretched between two buildings at chest level. “Road’s closed! sorry!” he said, smiling cheekily as he braced against the bar.

 

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

 

“So, tell me, this plan relies on the fact that their kids?” chat asked, looking at Menagerie as he spoke, his emerald eyes narrowing as he saw her relaxed posture.

 

“Of course. Children think very wild, yet simple, thoughts. they believe in their own personal reality, and nothing can shake them of it. They think if they run, you’ll chase them. If you get ahead of them, your trying to stop them.”

 

“And if I block a path for them…” he trailed off, a light coming on in his eyes as she grinned.

 

“Then you're obviously trying to trick them into going another way.”

 

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

 

As the Akuma ducked under his pole and continued to run, Chat had to admit Menagerie was a good planner. He wouldn't have been able to come up with something like this. He was, unfortunately, all looks and no brains.

 

‘That's what you have Chloé for. or, well had. Now you have new friends, and replaced her~’  a venomous voice in his thoughts hissed at him, dark and angry like a stepped on cat, as he forced the thoughts away.

 

He was still there for Chloé, at least now. He wouldn't let her get hurt like that again.

 

“alright menagerie, their heading towards you.” Chat said into his pole, looking at her as she glanced at him through Ladybug’s communicator, a smile crossing her face.

 

good. Now, let's hope this all goes well.” she said, looking off screen as she nodded, the communication cutting off as Chat nodded with a grin.

 

And with that, he bounded after the Akuma, making sure he was as loud as possible as they continued to run.

 

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

 

Chloé was looking out at the crossroads drolly, her eyes tracing the open street, clear of all pedestrians, as she looked at Ladybug, unimpressed blues meeting nervous ones. “well, now it's your turn. Put those acting chops to good use, I guess.” she said, earning a confused look from the girl before Chloé rolled her eyes. “just get down there.”

 

As the red suited heroine jumped down, Chloé leaned back, narrowing her eyes as she did so. Apathy was a bad kwamii to be using now, she realized, but dammit if it wasn't effective, and exactly what she needed right now. War and Peace weren't options, too widespread. She needed something focused. And, this was the least energy intensive, or corrupting, option available.

 

That didn't mean she liked having her positive emotions dampened, and her negative emotions partially uncovered. She was already depressed, at least slightly, from everything that had happened after Demis.

 

She didn't need more pressure put on her.

 

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

 

“And after their running down the path, how do we make sure they fall into the trap?'' Ladybug asked, looking at the funeral dressed Menagerie with a raised brow, looking skeptical, but intrigued.

 

“Well, from what i’ve heard, again, its a pair of kids. young kids at that. Reverse psychology would work with Chat and the pole, but we need you to act desperate. you're trying to stop them from getting into the smoke at all cost. attack them, cry out, things like that. just make sure they want to get lost in the smoke.” Chloé muttered, looking her dead in the eyes before grinning. “I'm sure you can do fine.”

 

it's not like you didn't lie to my face after all. your god with acting.

 

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

 

Ladybug swung down, landing on the street as she saw the blur running towards her, obviously seeing her and preparing to turn.

 

no.

 

That would ruin the plan and, despite being a piece rather than a player this time, she couldn't think of anything that would help her from the Lucky Charm right now, and they had a VERY good plan already.

 

better to try it and, if it failed, then use the charm. a backup, just in case.

 

“Don't let them get into the smoke!” she cried, looking over their shoulder to Chat. “If they get in there, we might never find them!”

 

And with that, she launched her yo-yo forwards, trying to wrap it around the Akuma’s legs as they lept, rolling through a handstand back to their feet as they gave a raspberry to the spotted girl, running into the white smoke cloud as Chat skidded to a halt next to her.

 

“and now,” the cat said, grinning. “We wait.”

 

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

 

Thunderbolt grinned as they skidded to a halt in the white cloud, grinning as they looked back, keeping their ears out. This was perfect. In a situation like this, they could easily ambush the heroes and take them down, fast as lightning! All they needed to do was keep an ear out as they leaned over, hands on their knees, anticipating the noise of footsteps.

 

only… they didn't hear any.

 

“what? why aren't they following me?” they muttered, eyes narrowing as they strained their senses, trying to make them out through the grey smo- grey?

 

wasn't it white when they entered?

 

but no, it was starting to darken, taking on a darker and darker tone until it was a deep, thunderstorm black.

 

By that point, they were on their rear, panting as they looked at the sky.

 

“w… what? what's going on?” they muttered, even as they fell backwards, their breathing shallow as they felt a blackness overtaking them, their eyes closing as the pressure became too much.

 

and they knew no more.

 

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

 

outside the now black smoke cloud, Chloé smiled, casually walking past the surprised Ladybug and Chat Noir as she put her pipe to her lips, the smoke cloud attached to it now black as oil as she slowly started breathing in, the cloud pulling away to reveal the downed akuma, unconscious from the energy drain as more and more of the compressing cloud was drawn into her pipe, a POP signifying the last of it as she sighed, exhaling white smoke out her nose like a steam train as she smiled.

 

She felt better already.

 

“This should be your job now, right?” Chloé said, looking at the two stunned heroes, looking at her with a curious light in their eyes. “i do believe that i've done all i can, and all i want to. so, i will be leaving.” she finished, smiling as she leaned back on ehr grey cloud chair, the smoke slowly whitening as she sped away, the now white smoke dissipating as she lept from it, landing solidly on a rooftop before disappearing through the alleyway, finally ending up at her hotel room through a few more stealth techniques as she entered her room, letting out a sigh as she sat on her bed and let Slipp out, relaxing on the mattress as she inhaled deeply, and let out a soft breath.

 

Oh that was much better.

 

With a groan, she stretched her arms, her legs feeling just that bit more solid under her as she saw the ladybug swarm pass over Paris, rushing over her in a wave as she grinned.

 

The energy was still with her.

 

With a shaky sense of balance, she forced herself to stand, ignoring the worry from her Kwamii as she supposted herself on the bed frame, her legs shaky, but working.

 

a few more days of rest would do her well, but she had to show Papa.

 

With a smile, she took some crutches, which were supposed to be months away from her use, into her hands, starting to limp her way to the door as it opened, revealing a familiar face with a tray in his hands, before it clattered to the ground in shock.

 

“Mademoiselle!” Jean said, rushing towards her as he tried to support her, her hands batting him away as she smiled.

 

“I'm fine, jean. I feel better after the latest Cure. Maybe it helped fix me?” she said, smiling nervously as he looked at her, eyes narrowed.

 

he wasn't buying it. but, on the other hand, it was the only thing that was different now then a week ago.

 

“... Very well.” he said slowly, looking her in the eye. “but that doesn't explain why you're out of bed.”

 

“I wanted to show Daddy of course!” he said, wobbling out the door before Jean could protest, hobbling her way into the elevator with him right behind, trying to protest all the while as she pressed the button for the first floor.

 

as the door opened and she walked out, her heart soared, seeing her Papa in the main hall, instead of in his office in city hall. Said heart hit something hard as she looked to who he was talking to.

 

another girl, blonde, blue eyed, who could be her twin if her hair wasn't different, and her face wasn't rounder. she looked younger than her too.

 

“... Papa? who is this?” she asked, her voice suddenly hoarse with pain as two pairs of eyes snapped to her, one filling with confusion, the other with joy as her father all but ran over to her, scooping her into a hug.

 

“Oh, you're up! why are you up, you should still be in bed?!” Andre babbled, his voice a mix of mappy and worried as he looked her over, checking to make sure he didn't leave any injuries as she ignored him, her eyes locked onto a familiar pair of blues.

 

her eyes.

 

“Papa. Who. Is. This.” Her voice was cool, and controlled. She was the perfect daughter of a mayor and a model, her anger was always tightly leashed, only let go on those who she thought could handle it, or those who drove it over the edge. It was a lesson she had put to the side long ago, bt, after bullot, she had been trying to get back in place.

 

“A… ah. Right. Chloé, this is your half sister, from New York. She’s… moving here to stay with us.” Andre said, now sounding nervous. “She is family, after all.”

 

… Family? From New York? a half sister?

 

she had heard the rumors, but.. she hadnt believed them. Mother loved papa, loved her.

 

Why would she want another daughter?

 

Even as these thoughts overwhelmed her, the blonde who had her eyes walked forward, smiling nervously.

 

“um.. hi there! I’m Zoe, Zoe Lee. It's nice to meet you, sis!”

 

At that, Chloé felt all that energy, all the joy she had managed to muster about FINALLY being able to move again, leave her in a flash, collapsing as her vision went black, The cries of her father, her butler, and her half-sister resounding in her ind as she blacked out.

Chapter 24: Cough

Summary:

A rude awakening, a ruder interruption. Cant these people see their Queen is trying to recover?

A trap sprung, a trio enraged. A new for approaches.

Notes:

Same old excuses, same old apologies. Between this and my new story, its a fight to get any gears spinning at all. Here's hoping you guys enjoy.

Chapter Text

Chloé awoke to the alarm on her phone going off, and a confused headache. Her mouth let out an involuntary groan as she sat up, noting the food by the side of her bed, and the worried forms of her Kwamii floating around her, Sliip noticeably absent as he slept by his Miraculous.

 

“What happened.” The blonde muttered, half opening her eyes as she felt something small and soft snuggle her nose, a fond look crossing her face as Artemista snuggled her.

 

"You passed out downstairs." Artemista said, sounding worried as Bullot frowned, glancing away. "Apparently you… had a bad meeting?"

 

Almost immediately, the memory clicked into place, leaving her leaning back in her bed as Artemista flirted around her like a worried hummingbird, Bullot immediately looking at her as she let out a shuddering breath.

 

"I… met my half sister for the first time." The blonde admitted, earning a confused look from Artemista, but a sudden laser focus from her ant.

 

"A sister you didn't know existed? A younger sister?" Bullot said, his Contra's shock washing over him as he locked eyes with an exhausted looking Chloé.

 

A slow nod, and it felt like the heat in the room spiked, a snarl forcing its way from between Bullot's mandables. Wars had been fought for less offences than this, and it was rankling his chiton that he couldn't do anything.

 

"Thankfully!" Artemista interjected, earning a look from both angry parties. Well… one angry, one tired. "She won't be a problem today! It's already time for school, after all."

 

That immediately had Chloé sitting up again. "What?! But it was just the afternoon!"

 

"And you are still recovering." Bullot said, forcing himself to be calm. "The shock knocked you out all night. Speaking of," he mused, floating over to a bowl of warm soup on her mealtray, pushing said tray into her lap. "Eat."

 

Chloé gave a disgusted grunt, but relented, dipping her spoon into the bowl and bringing it to her lips, gulping it down as fast as she could, still nearly gagging in the process. She always hated the feeling, having it slide down her throat like oil, cutting off her oxygen, and clogging her up. She hated this feeling, no matter how quick it passed.

 

But she needed to eat. She could already feel the hunger wracking her body as she finished her spoonful.

 

"Well… if she's going to school," Chloé started, trying to put off another Bute. "At least I can have more of the day to myself!"

 

"At least until an Akuma appears." Bullot said, smirking as she let out a snort of laughter.

 

"Ain't that the truth." Chloé muttered, looking at her Kwamii. "Now that he's back, I've got two bars on him starting his old schedule."

 

"No bet." Bullot chuckled, ignoring Artemisia's glare. "I bet we won't even get through the morni-"

 

And that's when the scream came from below, Chloé immediately looking out her window to see people running from her school, a sigh bursting from her lips.

 

"Damnit Bullot." She sighed, turning to look at the blushing Kwamii.




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

 

As Zoe walked into her new class at Collège Françoise Dupont, she felt her mind racing, trying to process all the knowledge she had learned, heard, and inferred clashing against each other, her brain feeling like it was on fire, only adding to the chaos of the rest of her life.

 

Firstly, her sister. Chloé Bourgeois. According to all the rumors and posts, an absolute Bitch who had been a hero, lost the right, got pissed enough to betray the heroes, made most of them lose their powers, how she didn't know exactly, and when she got what was coming to her, disappeared from her class after a few weeks of the same shit she had put everyone else through for years.

 

According to what she had seen, that leaving wasn't very voluntary.

 

She hadn't understood what being a Parisian in the middle of all this chaos ment until her Step-father, and isn't that weird to think, had told her about Necrolancer. About the terror that had swept the town, even days after he had been defeated, and what had happened to her half-sister. How she had fallen into a coma for two months, exhausted beyond belief from overworking herself at her college, combined with the stress of the akuma attack..

 

She was getting better remarkably quickly, apparently, but still… seeing someone who looked almost exactly like you, before all the makeup and dye, collapse and pass out because they saw you? it was… unnerving. Apparently, her sister hadn't known she existed, despite Zoe knowing about her.

 

Knowing rumors about her.

 

As the teacher started introducing her, Zoe forced herself to focus again, looking at all the students in the class around her, noting faces she had seen in some of the posts, heroes who had lost their powers. saw a seat in the front row, next to a red-head who looked…. upset? maybe depressed. Either way, she was looking at her with a mix of manic hope, and despair.

 

“Does anyone have any questions?” Mrs. Bustier, her new teacher, asked, earning a few raised hands through the group as Zoe collected her thoughts, expecting the usual questions. ‘What was it like in America’, ‘Why did you move here’, things like that.

 

“How does it feel to be related to a villain?” A voice called from near the middle of the class, all eyes moving immediately to a brunette girl, her orange blouse making her more recognizable but she didn't recognize her fully. Her name was on the tip of her tongue.

 

“Lila!” Mrs. Bustier reprimanded, though a lot of the others were already muttering to each other, the redhead’s desperate gaze boring into her even harder now as the blonde’s eyes narrowed. Wait hold it a second was that Adrien Agreste?

 

Zoe had to physically shake herself out of her surprise as she looked around, seeing the others look at her in a new light as a few scowls flitted across the room.

 

“Why do we have to keep talking about her.” A jock looking teen huffed from a corner. “She left. Ran off because she couldn't handle a little teasing. She never earned her Miraculous, so she wasn't even a real hero. And a defeated villain isn't something to be interested in. Let her fame burn and die with her pride.”

 

“Kim.” A pinkette growled. “not cool dude.”

 

“Ran off?” Zoe asked, drawing eyes to her again. She looked… honestly confused.

 

“Well, yeah.” A brunette with orange tips said, frowning. “Girl ran off after Necrolancer. never came back. Did you not see her at the hotel?”

 

“Yeah, I saw her recovering.” Zoe said, a frown on her face at their confused reactions. All but Adrien. Did he know? “She fell into a Coma after this Necrolancer guy attacked. She only woke up like a week ago, and has been bedridden since yesterday.”

 

The shouts of surprise and confusion that escaped the classroom nearly rocked the door off its hinges, all eyes on her now as the pinkette, the desperate redhead, and the bluenette actually stood up in shock. The brunette in the orange sweater looked surprised, before a pleased look crossed her face, before being replaced by worry so fake Zoe wouldn't put it in front of a B movie camera.

 

“She’s up? and walking?!” Adrien asked, surprising everyone as he leaned forward, a mix of worry and relief in his eyes as another boy, this one with a green shirt, turned to look at him.

 

“Dude, you knew?” he asked, sounding shocked.

 

“Of course I did. I knew the moment she fell into a coma.” Adrien scoffed. “Not that any of you cared.”

 

“What are you-” the jock boy, Kim, started, before getting cut off by the blonde.

 

“Kim, you’ve insulted Chloé 34 times since she fell into that coma, calling her a coward and mentioning her running off any time you're having a bad day and want a target. Lila has been egging you on sometimes, but most of those are on your own. Nathaniel noted how quiet it's been more than once, and Max agreed it was a good thing every time it came up.” the blonde scowled, a fire glowing in his eyes that was slowly spreading to Zoe.

 

That… that wasn't right. Chloé was in a coma, and none of them knew? they just… lambasted her and didn't even think to check up on her? She could see the shame in some of them now, but Adrien kept going, much to the shock of the bluenette who was looking at him like he had grown a second head.

 

“Alya has joked about putting up Unwanted posters on her blog, which always earned a laugh from at least a few of you. Max has mentioned how much easier it was to get work done. Alix, despite growing up in the same circles as me and Chloé, didn't even think to look in on her after what was CLEARLY a change in her pattern, something we both know she hates, and Sabrina has been suffering through it silently because she didn't want to hear her being badmouthed again. The only ones I haven't seen actually disparaging her are Ivan, Meylene, Julenka and rose. Even marinette let a comment slip once.” he said, eying the surprised looking bluenette with… disappointment?

 

“Dude, what's the matter with you.” Nino said, frowning at his deskmate. “It's Just Chloé.”

 

That… was the wrong answer for multiple reasons, as the Redhead, Sabrina, Immediately shot to her feet. Zoe could feel her own anger rising. And the blonde just looked even more disappointed.

 

“Nino, if it wasn't for her, I wouldn't have met any of you.” Adrien said, his voice deceptively calm as more than one brow raised. “She crossed a few lines, and got me here without my dad ever having seen the paperwork. She’s the only reason I'm allowed to even be here. And she was my friend for the longest time, even if i haven't been acting like it recently. What's the matter with me? What's the matter with you!” He growled, his blue eyes alight with rage as Zoe saw something flying in through a window. a… closed window? It was a butterfly, purple and black swirls covering its wings. immediately, she reached out, catching the attention of everyone else as they screamed at her to stop. But why? It was just a little butterfly.

 

And then it landed on her bracelets.

 

And He Came In.

 

Now, this doesn't seem very fair, does it, Critic?   A voice purred in her mind, rich and smooth as she felt her body tensing, saw light from the corners of her eyes as everyone started rushing for the windows, leaping out of the classroom in a panic. All of these people badmouth a girl who isn't even here to defend herself. A girl who can barely leave her bed, let alone fight back. All because of the people here.

 

Zoe could hear someone trying to talk to her. To convince her not to listen to the voice in her head. The bluenette. one of the ones Adrien had said talked bad about Chloé.

 

Talked bad about her sister.

 

“No….. it's not very fair, is it.” Zoe muttered, her eyes darkening as the purple mask flashed, the magic starting to crawl up her body like a wave of ants, clambering over her skin as her casual clothes changed. A skintight suit, styled like an old fashioned film roll, with a camera in one hand, and something heavy at her waist.

 

Well, now you can pay them back. Give them a bit of a trimming, if you will, so they’ll never say anything like that again. All I ask for in return, are the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous. He said, the images flashing into her mind. Crimson red studs with black spots, and a black and green cat ring. Easy enough.

 

Critic came back to herself as she saw the bluenette moving to run, the film camera in her hand already pointing at her fleeing form as she fired, another person intercepting the shot by mistake as the beam hit that brown-and-blonde jock.

 

Critic rolled her eyes, watching him vanish as she took one of the rolls off her camera, starting to look through the images with a scowl. “My my, you really are nothing but trouble and bad attitude.” she scowled, reacting to the weight on her hip as she pulled it free, the gleaming silver scissors plain for anyone watching to see as she casually snipped a frame or two out of the reel, letting the rest repair itself, missing the scenes she had taken. “lets see if i can fix that.”

 

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



Chapter 25: Sputter

Summary:

An attempt to help, foiled by an unexpected adversary.

Notes:

this chapter... this fucking chapter. I was going to write somthing like this sooner or later, hte idea just seemed too good, but... this chapter fucking poosessed me. As soon as it clicked in my mind what i wanted to happen, it took the idea and RAN with it, leaving a trail for me to follow. Thats probably why its twice the size of normal. I couldnt stop righting until the very end.

with all that said, i dearly hope you all enjoy.

*prepares anti-mob barracades*

Chapter Text

Chloé gave a soft frown as she hopped down to the front entrance of her college. Tilting her head, she kept her ears open as she approached, looking for the Akuma even as people ran by her, pipe firmly in her grasp.

 

 If she was being honest with herself, she probably had more than enough energy to use someone other than Slipp at the moment, but… she could always use more.

 

It was a matter of resource management in her eyes. Why fight in a way that would lead to her losing energy, when she had so little to lose. Instead, she would build up her reserves so, if and when there was a dire need, she could use the high energy Miraculous, like Bullot and Artemista.

 

and Demis a traitorous part of her mind whispered, earning a shutter as she thought back to that power, but also the risks that came with it.

 

That would be a last resort, as Season Kwamii were apparently meant to be. She needed to stop being so wasteful, like when she had first started using the box. Less Perfect Soldiers and Neutral Grounds, more Draining Smoke. If she kept up like she had before….

 

Well, comas weren't always things you woke up from. And was only a few steps away from actual death, instead of just brain death.

 

That was not a gamble she wanted to play with.

 

With a sigh, she pushed away the dark thoughts that came so much easier in this form and stood tall, walking through the grounds of Collège Françoise Dupont with the casual ease of an experienced student, her eyes dancing over the empty central garden as she saw the Akuma.

 

and froze.

 

Same face. Same hair.

 

Zoe.

 

What could have caused her to Akumatize on her first day? I’m not there anymore. ’ Chloé thought, a bit of self deprecating humor shining in her thoughts as she could almost FEEL Sliip chuckling. With a shake of her head, she continued forward, eyes locking with her half-sisters as she tilted her head, watching the girl freeze in shock at the sight of her.

 

First time seeing a hero, and she looked like she just came from a Funeral.

 

“So,” Chloé started, raising a brow as the purple butterfly appeared, causing the girl to shake out of it and point her camera at her. “What caused this then?”

 

“What are you talking about?” The girl hissed, her eyes narrowing as she lined up a shot. “I was offered the power to right some wrongs I saw, and I took it. That's all there is to it.” Critic finished, not moving to attack for now. She wasn't holding the Cat or Ladybug, but she did look competent in a fight. if she got taken down, she couldn't get payback for what they had said.

 

“Yes, that's why everyone takes an Akuma. I’m more curious about why you. Akuma are made at least once a week, if not faster.” Chloé said, leaning forwards. “I should know, I've seen more than a few go active. They all have a reason. A want. A desire to enact vengeance, or about to fall into despair. I want to know why you did. It's a simple question.” She finished, half because she was curious, and half to stall. If she could defuse the situation, like she had with Firebug…

 

“They were badmouthing someone who couldn't fight back. Someone who was hurt, and not even there to defend herself. They didn't even know she WAS hurt!” Critic shot back, earning a blank look from Chloé before it clicked.

 

Zoe had transformed because her classmates, people she had raked over the coals of her anger more than once to try and find some way of releasing all her pent up frustrations, had been badmouthing her behind her back.

 

Chloé felt sick.

 

so she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

 

“Do you think she would be happy that you did?”

 

That… seemed to catch Critic off guard. her attention was fully on Chloé now, making her heart race as she tried to figure out why she had said that, and what to say next.

 

“I mean…. Would this girl you felt strongly enough to want to protect want to see you like this? to see you doing… whatever it is you do to people?” Chloé asked, watching the girl’s eyes narrow.

 

“I think she would be happy I was getting rid of those rude and hurtful things.” Critic said, motioning to the rolls of film scattered around them, bits and pieces hacked off like a director had been horribly dissatisfied with their product. “If she had been well enough, she would have torn them to pieces herself.”

 

And that… that made the sick feeling in Chloé’s stomach worse, her mouth moving again as she let her mind take the backseat. Logic was running her now, yes, but that didn't mean she couldn't be lost in these… frothing dark emotions. This growing sea of despair at being the reason yet another person had gone Akuma. Was she really just that toxic, that everyone around her would fall like that?

 

“Aren't you assuming that, just like they were? What if she was just tired of it?”

 

Critic almost froze at that, her eyes narrowing darkly. “Are you… are you accusing me of being just like them? Of tossing judgement around just because I don't like what I've heard?”

 

“Aren't you?”

 

“I- I mean- I’m not-!” Critic started, trying to find the words to express her growing fury, her camera now pointed fully at the dull eyed Hero as she fired, eyes widening as that massive pipe spun, knocking the beam away with its reflective end, letting it hit a nearby bush as it was consumed, becoming a film reel laying on the ground.

 

Chloé snapped back into it then and there, her battle instincts, dulled as they were by Slipp, coming to life as she prepared to fight.

 

Only for said instincts to start SCREAMING at her.

 

In a flash, she was moving, dodging as she felt something brush across the back of her neck, like a swift breeze as she moved at her top speed. Her movements were almost instinctive as she lept to the top of a nearby building, a form slamming into the ground she had just vacated with enough power to blast out a cloud of debris and dust.

 

The figure in the smoke slowly got to their feet, brushing off their knees as Chloé and Critic took a step back, a flash of Red and Black finally marking the arrival of Ladybug and Chat Noir.

 

“Ah, the heroes of Paris.” The person in the cloud said, stepping out to reveal themself. or rather, herself. Her skin was pale, and rough, almost looking like paper as she casually brushed some dirt from her shoulder. Her eyes were an emerald green, and her hair a deep, midnight black.  Crimson red robes covered her form, earning a gasp from Ladybug as she spoke, her voice cool, calm, and clear. “My apologies. I will be leaving you to your duties shortly. I just need to confront this Thief.” She said, her tone casual, yet holding all the promise of a viper. bowing her head to the two stunned Miraculous wielders, she continued. “If you will excuse me, I shall take my business elsewhere.”

 

And with that, the woman disappeared, Chloé feeling something wrap round her windpipe as she went flying through the air, the hit knocking the breath out of her. She knew, almost instinctively, that this woman had nearly crushed her windpipe. Only Slipp, and the reinforcing smoke he had used to cover her throat, had saved her life, and she was still left coughing as she looked around with wide, panicked eyes.

 

She was in one of Paris’s parks, though Kwamii if she could tell which one. She just knew there weren't any that looked like this near her home. How far had this guardian thrown her?!

 

“I believe,” Daiyu said, as if on cue, as she appeared from a nearby bush. “This should be far enough away. I will be simple, girl. . I am Master Daiyu, Celestial Guardian of the Order, and Guardian of the Box of Conflict in particular. You are not worthy of my Box. I will be taking it back.”

 

As that last sentence hit her like a truck, Chloé felt something inside her, something that she had slowly been building back up, crack.

 

“What?” she whispered, eyes widening, as that pained feeling in her chest returned.  she couldn't tell what emotion it was, but at that moment, it didn't matter. All her attention was on Daiyu.

 

“Not only are you a weak minded girl,” Daiyu said calmly. “Easily influenced by those around you into flying into fits of rage or sorrow, you have no right to hold a miraculous at all. You were not chosen by a Guardian. In fact, it was your direct actions that brought a Guardian to their knees, to fall before an enemy. Even when you had a Miraculous before My box, you weren't given it. You found it. picked it up off the street. You were never going to be chosen to have one, yet you treat having one like it was your right, then and now.” The harsh woman said, her words almost like physical blows as she slowly shook her head.

 

“But Bullot, Artemista, Sliip, they chose me, didn't they? They wouldn't have given me their words if they hadn't!” Chloe shot back, taking a step away from the harsh woman as she strode forward in response, her form, and voice, unrelenting, as she felt more and more of that feeling, that familiar, yet foreign, bubbling and frothing inside her.

 

“A warmonger who wishes to see the world burn, a being who would see the good in everyone, even if they comitted murder after murder infront of her eyes, and a being so apathetic it couldnt care if you died right now.” The guardian shot back, even as a feeling of denial radiated from Slipp. But that… didn't matter. No, what mattered was her.

 

This woman wanted to take them away from her.

 

“But haven't I been doing good with them?!” Chloé protested, back hitting a tree as Daiyu gave a bark of laughter, a fist lashing out as Chloé ducked under it, only to receive a shoe in her side as she was sent tumbling away, a scream leaving her lips as she felt the magic pulse into her, foreign and seeking to hurt her more.

 

And she remembered how Bullot had described making him vanish.

 

willingly giving them away. or death.

 

she’s actually trying to kill me.

 

“You have bounced from one conflict to another, putting your nose where  it doesn't belong and interfering with the work of the Chinese Miracle Box guardian, Ladybug. If it weren't for you, they would be much less nervous about each Akuma, not knowing how you will enter the fight, and Necrolancer would have never happened at all. Not to mention, what can a weakened, almost crippled girl like you do that someone else can't. Someone actually chosen by a guardian.” Daiyu sneered.

 

She had seen many things in her life. Many thieves who would steal a miraculous, would steal power, if given the chance. It was why she was given the box to guard.

 

It was her job to hunt down thieves, after all. So it was best to give her the right bait.

 

Chloé, on the other hand, was reeling, that feeling growing hotter, and wilder inside her as she processed what this guardian, this Daiyu, was saying.

 

She was blaming her for Necrolancer. For Jean’s death, no matter how temporary it was. For the grief she had put her father through, for making Adrien so worried.

 

Her own physical weakness brought on by a coma from using Demis, the poor Kwamii still not awake after so much time had passed.

 

She was blaming her for all of it.

 

And as the emotion burst through her, filling her body with fire and sorrow, she realized what the emotion was.

 

Hatred.

 

She well and truly hated this woman. For threatening her life. for this ion her. For trying to be a hero, and finding a box this woman had lost because of her own order messing up.

 

And now she was trying to kill her. Trying to rip her from her father’s life, who was trying so hard to be there for her. Ripping her from Jean’s caring grasp. From Adrien, who even if he didn't need her anymore, was still so important to her. From Zoe, who she hadn't even known for long, but was still willing to Akumatize for her.

 

She was trying to rip her away from all of them. Kill her, and leave her body in this park. Leave them grieving, and wondering what had happened to her.

 

No. She would survive. She would get back to them. she HAD to!

 

With a roar that seemed to surprise the woman, Chloé struck, her pipe flying with a speed that a weapon that large shouldn't ever reach. A snarl ripped from her throat as she felt the guardian bat her weapon away, but it didn't matter. She lunged towards the woman, shifting her grip to try and shove the mouthpiece into her stomach like a dagger as another blow came, boxing her ear and knocking her to the side.

 

“Hmm… you have good battle instincts, girl. If I didn't have to rip those miraculous from you, by surrender  or force, I might have even taken you to join the Order. But, it's too late for that now.” Daiyu sighed, making it sound more like a chore then a murder as Chloé saw her life start to flash before her eyes.

 

Saw how she had treated everyone. How she had tried to make the world exactly how she wanted it. Because if it followed her rules, it couldn't hurt her. If it listened to her, it wouldn't turn against her, try and hurt her.

 

If she was like her mother, the world would listen.

 

She was so stupid.

 

Her anger was still there, still stoked, but… it was starting to die. She couldn't get away. She couldn't run.

 

This woman would kill her.

 

She was going to die.

 

And is that really how you  want this to go?’

 

The voice was… unexpected. Sudden, and immediately filling her mind as the world seemed to slow around her. Her frazzled mind could barely comprehend it, watching as the world slowly greyed out as a figure stood beside her, standing over her just like the guardian was.

 

It took a moment to figure it out, but as soon as it clicked, her eyes widened as she saw… herself?

 

A version of herself was standing over her, dressed in shorts, a sports bra, and a pair of bloody knuckle bandages, reptilian eyes staring down at her with a scowl on her copy’s face.

 

‘Is this truly where you want this to end?!’ her voice growled at her, so deep and rumbling it almost didn't sound like her at all. ‘ Do you truly wish to just lay down and die?! Like some kind of DOG?! This woman, she mocks and belittles you, rips you apart with words before crushing you with her fists. a cat playing with her food. ’ her doppleganger hissed, eyes filled with hatred and rage. ‘ She expects you to just roll over and die here. expects you to be a simple target, something to remove from her way so she can get back to what she thinks is important, without even a concern for what is important to you! isn't that INFURIATING?!’

 

“It is…” Chloé wheezed, a cough rattling her body as she tried to get air back into her lungs, the world slowly started coming back into full speed.

 

THEN DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT! CALL TO ME, CALL ME TO YOUR SIDE! AND WE SHALL RIP THIS WOMAN APART!’

 

Chloé watched as the world came back into focus, Daiyu was standing over her, one foot moving to rest on her chest as she pressed, the slow, methodical pressure buildup along with the magic pressing down on her making Chloé scream as she felt something break, a cough leaving her lips as blood splattered her costume, Sliip’s magic trying desperately to defend and fix her as Daiyu looked down, a cold, satisfied look in her eyes as she smirked.

 

“Any final words, girl?” She asked, moving her shoe to Chloé’s windpipe as her anger flared.

 

If she tried to say anything, this woman would crush her windpipe mid sentence.

 

Sadistic bitch.

 

I want to kill her.

 

I Want To Kill Her, So I Can Live.

 

I WANT TO LIVE!

 

PLEASE, HELP ME!

 

And, as if summoned by a prayer, help came.

 

Daiyu suddenly went stiff, leaping back as a roaring force of magic sped towards her, leaping away with all haste as a ball of fire engulfed the girl who she had been beating, her eyes traveling around the grove to see who had thrown the fireball, and had ended up killing her target.

 

Nothing.

 

There was no one there.

 

And then the magic intensified, and she whipped around, eyes widening as she saw the girl standing, Sliip falling away as his Miraculous fell from her throat, the Kwamii appearing to look wide eyed at the girl’s form, seemingly distressed. Odd, for such an apathetic creature.

 

But then her eyes snapped back to focus on the girl, and the thing floating in front of her, her throat drying as she saw the emblem of the Dragon, Wrath, floating in front of her, before slowly moving towards her. The ring sank into her skin, merging miraculous and girl as the Parasyte type miraculous took hold, its magic filling the girl as she screamed.

 

Fire licked up her arms, a pair of clawed gauntlets appearing as her fists clenched, scales forming over her shoulders. Her clothing was burned away, replaced by thick, white bandages that seemed to cover her chest and shoulders, while leaving her stomach exposed as more scales flowed from beneath them, covering the soft skin that was left exposed as pants formed from the fire, covering her lower half to her now bare, and clawed, feet. fire licked up her neck as she screamed, the emblem of the Dragon now burned into her tongue as her eyes turned into slit pupils, her har going from a bright blond to a crimson red as small scales appeared around her eyes, almost like burn marks, as a large, metal muzzle wrapped itself around her mouth, closing around it so her face looked more like a reptile’s then a person’s.

 

And then the metal jaws opened, revealing sharpened, silver teeth.

 

And she screamed , the sound like an unholy mix of a jet engine and a cannon as those fire filled eyes locked onto her.

 

And the girl turned monster lunged, looking to tear apart the woman who had thought she was handling a rat, and had ended up trodding on the dragon’s tail.

Chapter 26: Ẅ̷̨͇͕̤̟̗͔̬̱̙͔͚̖̺͙͚̽̾̈̇̅̊̈́̽̎̂͐̈̏͗̓̽̌̀͂̽̂͌̓̈̅̚̚͝ŕ̵̡̡̨̧̨̧̧͉̖̯͎̜̘̻̜̠̟̖̪͔͕̖̥͙͎̰͍̟͆̈́̔̇̆͛̑̐͆̒͛͒́̊̊̄̄͐̿̕ͅͅa̸̠̥̬̙̘̍̆͌̌t̷̢̧̛̬̞̩͕̝̭̮̗͔̼̗̞̙͙̬̲̝͇͍̩͕͈̑͂͆̂̉̑̽̿̅͆͋̒̌̈́̓̋̒͆̒͜͝h̵̝̣̭̥̪̥̫͓̻̽̀̔̀̐̂̈́̽̿

Summary:

The world is never as Black and White as it appears

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The anger was hot. So very, very hot. It BUrnEd. it felt like molten iron in her veins, like steam in her lungs. It was boiling her eyes, and scolding her skin. It was invading her brain with its unending HeaT! It was too much! It was way, way too MUCH!

 

She could see her body. See it lashing out with claws, dull blood soaked steel gauntlets whistling through the air as it tried to bring down HER. Tried to strike down a master of the Miraculous Order, and got her arm broken for the attempt. 

 

Saw her limp limb being pushed away as she was forced to intercept the second hand, steel and skin flexing as Wrath tried to rip her opponent’s face off.

 

Keeping her attention on the strong hand as Wrath’s other hand swept in, ripping across her opponent’s belly with those sharp, dragonic talons. 

 

Flexing her once broken arm to ensure all was good before launching forward, jaws agape, as her opponent dodged.

 

It was wrong. Her body couldn't move like that, twisting on a once broken arm to kick Daiyu in the face, actually re-breaking the skin as she twisted like a top, already healing as she got to her feet and lunged again, seeking to clamp her jaws around her opponent’s shoulder, or maybe her hip.

 

At least, she had been, until she found herself facing the wrong way, her head looking down her back for a moment as she realized she had gotten her neck snapped and twisted from a single strong punch to her cheek.

 

It made her a n G r Y

 

In a literal snap, her neck was right back where it should be, her body once again under her control as she lunged, taking a bite into the arm that had broken her neck and lifting her opponent off her feet, shaking her like a rat terrier with her favorite toy. 

 

And it. Felt. Good.

 

With a joyous roar, she tossed her opponent away, reveling in her Wrath and hatred. It felt so warm, so good~ It felt like she could get revenge, get back. Rip Ladybug’s head off, punch a hole through Chat Noir, rip off Hawkmoth’s little wings! She could do it ALL! Every dark thought, every corrupted desire she had ever felt.

 

It was all within the palm of her hand now, just waiting to be used.

 

Hmm… something felt off.

 

Looking down saw the Enemy’s hand on her chest, a blow of force ripping through her as she felt her heart be torn asunder, the odd missing presence of it making her pause before her magic set to repairing her body, leaving her to take that arm in one gauntlet, and smash down on her Enemy’s shoulder with the other, breaking it.

 

So annoying. She should probably deal with this enemy first. It was a bitch to regrow a heart. With a snarl of rage she lept, jaws seeking her opponents throat as a hand lashed out, a desperate strike to her Core, seeking to shatter it.

 

But you couldn't shatter what was already broken.

 

In a savage display, Wrath lifted her prey above her head, clenching her throat in her teeth as the Enemy looked at her like a monster.

 

How does it feel, bitch? You tried to kill me?! The only ones who should kill, are those prepared to be killed!

 

With a savage ease and glee, Wrath snapped her jaws shut, separating head from body as lifeblood poured down her throat, a rapturous glee filling her body as something small flew over to her, earning a raised hand as she prepared to strike down… the flying fish?

 

No… not a fish… a tiny floating being.

 

A small god.

 

A Kwamii.

 

She knew the words, she was even sure she knew the being. But her mind… it didn't feel right. She should know this being, so why was she trying to attack it?

 

Using you~’ The venomous whisper that was her own voice came to her ear. ‘ Remember what she said? He's not your friend. Just a being of apathy.

 

She said that? The Enemy… said that.

 

Then she would prove the Enemy wrong.

 

what?

 

The hated foe said this was also the Enemy, that it wasn't with her. That it was against her. She wouldn't believe a thing the Enemy said. She spoke only lies and hatred. Damn the Enemy! With a growl, she lashed out with her tail, smacking the corpse’s head away before her eyes turned back to the black fish, holding a necklace.

 

She couldn't understand what it was saying, the heat was burning her ears, sealing them away.

 

‘It's mocking you. Taunting you. Belittling you.’

 

That… didn't seem right. But it was what she had said, her own thoughts. It felt.. wrong though.

 

Make it pay for its words!

 

Pay…? Yes, pay. it could give her something. With a grin, Wrath stole its precious necklace, much to the screaming of the voice in her head. But it didn't matter. The neck binding was hers now~ with a smirk, she put it on, giving a victorious grin under her mask.

 

And then SCREAMING as energy filled her, a cold ice filling her veins as the heat died, left her, was pushed from her. No, no! She needed that heat! the comforting warmth! the power-

 

Chloé!’

 

That voice… she knew that voice… It spoke deep within her, where the other voice had been, but now it was different. It wasn't her, it was…

 

Sliip?

 

All at once, reality crashed back down onto Chloé, her eyes widening as she looked around the blood splattered part, stomach lurching as she saw the headless body, her costume returning to that of her Apathy form.

 

even as the blood trickled down her nose, and over her lips. Not her blood, just a stain.

 

From when she had bitten Daiyu’s head off.

 

With a scream of fear and anguish, Chloé forced herself to run, to flee the scene of the crime, running back to her home, where it was safe, away from the reality of what she had done.

 

Even as she heard a voice cooing and giggling happily behind her.

 

Even as she felt the ladybugs swarm over her, cleaning the blood from her.

 

She didn't stop until she was back home, tossing Sliip off as she raced to the bathroom, becoming violently ill in the toilet.

 

As, innocently on her bedside table, the other six rings waited, with a single flower unoccupied, the orange rose seeming to glint red as tiny drops of blood streamed down into its center, draining into the box.

 

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

 

Daiyu, master of the Box of Conflict, Pandora’s box, supposedly the WORST box in the world, came back to herself screaming, feeling at her neck for the gushing blood, the torn flesh, the exposed spine as she shot upwards, eyes frantically searching for that thing .

 

The Box of Sin was a myth. That's what had always been told. A box made by the Kwamii to contain all the goods and evils of the world could not exist, for Kwamii had never been able to make their own containers. It was a legend, a fantasy.

 

A fantasy that had just ripped out a master’s throat.

 

And, for once in a long, long time, Daiyu remembered fear.

 

Remembered being a small, starving little girl who had seen a pretty jewelry box, and had stolen it, trying to earn some money to fill her empty belly.

 

Had remembered being beaten to an inch of her life, by someone in the same robes she now wore.

 

Being taken from her alleys, her boxes, the only place she had known, and being taken to a monastery.

 

Being trained by the one who had beaten her, the fear of death filling her every movement until it was perfect.

 

Becoming better, and better, climbing through the ranks.

 

Challenging the one who had almost killed her for their position.

 

Succeeding.

 

The path of Conflict was long, and winding. To master it, you must be a master of Conflict.

 

Had she lost herself to that war? Forgotten what had happened to her?

 

What she had just tried to do to another girl, who despite being from a better family, finding the box in an accident, had managed the same sin as herself?

 

To take Conflict for yourself, you must beat the master.

 

And she had lost.

 

But… that didn't mean she could do nothing.

 

Conflict no longer belonged to her, but the fear in her heart made by the Sin she had witnessed could not be ignored.

 

And so, she fled, tail between her legs, back towards home.

 

Back to tell of the legend, that was no mere legend anymore.

Notes:

Fuck. This. Chapter. It REFUSED to come to me, aside from the start of the fight, since my last post! I have been thinking on it on and off for MONTHS! Im so, SO sorry it took this long everyone.

Chapter 27: Paradime shift

Summary:

A rightly earned freak out, and some words chloe disnt want to hear.

Notes:

Had this as a flash the night after the last chapter, only been able to work on it in the past few days. Here's hoping the next one yakes less time. Hah!

Chapter Text

Chloé groaned, panting as she clutched to the porcelain bowl like it would save her life, her breath slow as her mind raced.

 

What had she done?

 

She had killed someone! worse, she had enjoyed it, reveled in it!

 

What kind of monster was she?!

 

With a groan, she forced herself to her feet, not daring to look at the crimson mass of liquid staining her toilet as she frantically reached for the handle, pulling herself up as the reminder of her battle went down the drain. With a groan, she wandered over to the sink, moving to cup her hands to drink from the cool water, hoping the sharp snap would clear her mind.

 

“I would suggest something a bit stronger than water, but I can't say it won't work.”

 

Only to immediately spit it out in shock, eyes darting this way and that as she whirled, looking for the sound of a voice. it wasn't quite right. The echoes didn't line up with the acoustics of the room, but it was definitely a voice.

 

Now, is that any way to greet a friend? ” the voice purred, making Chloé’s eyes whip around, looking back at the sink, eyes darting as if to catch a Kwamii in flight.

 

Only to see something that chilled her racing heart to a stop.

 

Looking at where the voice had originated from, she met eye to eye with her own reflection. sapphire blue meeting sapphire blue.

 

And the glowing orange right next to them, from the casually floating copy of herself smirking down at her.

 

She looked just like she had in the dream, an exact copy of Chloé, in sports wear and bandaged hands.

 

Wrath.

 

Said hands were currently on her hips, a smirk coming to her face as she gently leaned herself onto her Contractor’s shoulders, Chloé feeling the WEIGHT even as she stroked her face, the hands invisible to Chloé outside the mirror, but reflected perfectly as Wrath curled around her neck posessively.

 

It's lovely to meet you, oh contractor mine.” she cooed, her voice sweet, but with an undertone of gravel and fire. “ That little talk in the dreamscape wasn't nearly enough, especially after Pride, Lust and Greed took up all your time, while I was working on keeping my powers ready for you~”  she cooed, smiling a deep, predatory grin that made every hair on her neck stand on end.

 

“A.. and what are your powers?” Chloé said, desperate to do SOMETHING to try and keep hold of the situation, even if the answers were obvious to her frazzled mind.

 

hmm… well it's simple, but also VERY complex at the same time.” Wrath said, grinning like a blushing schoolgirl who had caught her crush’s attention. “ You see, I offer enhanced strength, battle capabilities, and regeneration. But, there’s a catch. The stronger your negative feelings, and the longer you’ve held them, the stronger i am.” Wrath purred.

 

The sound sent shivers down Chloé’s spine. She felt like she was next to a purring mountain lion, the sound reverberating through her.

 

as an obvious example, Daiyu.” Wrath hissed. “ you didn't know her long, but your fury… oh it was so exquisite! Like steaming tea, laced with honey and just BEGGING to be thrown in someone’s face. On the other hand, if you used me against an Akuma. Against Hawkmoth?” Wrath paused, seeming to imagine it as she shuttered, a face of ecstasy filling her incredibly familiar, and unsettling, face.

 

she had never wanted to know what her own ‘special time’ face looked like.

 

I could level this city with the raw, boiling hatred you’ve felt for MONTHS ! All i would need is for you to let me off leash~” Wrath cooed, moving her hands to stroke at the underside of her contractor’s chin. 

 

It felt… off. and it finally clicked as to why.

 

Wrath, for all her fiery personality, was ice cold.

 

“A-and the others?” Chloé scrambled, stepping back. “What are their powers?”

 

Oh, contractor. you should know not to ask about other ladies from the girl you're alone with~ ” Wrath cooed, watching Chloé squirm with a note of amusement.

 

“And why are you even here?!” Chloé finally snapped and hissed, her creep factor pushed to the edge and over as her eyes were locked on her copy, not noticing the tiny gods flowing in behind her. “Where's your ring, so I can take it off?!”

 

hmm… quite impossible~” Wrath purred, smirking as her eyes drifted past Chloé, to land firmly on the black chiton form of Bullot. “ Ask him, for all the details, my Contractor. He knows more than he says~” The embodiment of wrath mused, before tittering like an amused songbird.

 

“And why can't you just tell him to explain, instead of having me ask?!” Chloé growled back, not noticing the look of concern on Artemisia's face, and the sad resignation of Bullot’s.

 

“Because Parasite type miraculous,” Bullot started, turning all heads towards him. “Can only be seen by their contractor. To us, you're talking to thin air right now, Chloé.” He finished, leaving a wide eyed Chloé, a cackling Wrath, and a confused Artemista.

 

“What?” she whispered, hipping around to look at the floating Wrath in the mirror. “But I can see her right there, in the mirror!”

 

“Because She's in your body, connected to your soul.” Bullo said, a voice a mix of resignation, and maybe a hint of anger. “the Sins, and thankfully only the Sins, connect themselves with their wielder’s body deeper than any other. Once their ring is taken, the sin bonds with the host mind, body, and soul. Merging with them until the day they die.” Bullot explained. “It's partly their nature, and partly how they're made. They are, after all, a test of Pandora’s Box. the first line to unlock hope. Each of them has an ability to help their user, at the cost of others.” he said, looking dead serious. “from stealing magic, to skills, to unimaginable strength. The Seven are tempters and tricksters, but there is merit to using them.”

 

“BULLOT!” Artemista all but screeched, looking as offonted as she could, feathers standing tall and eyes wide with anger and shock.

 

“She’s bonded to one now, she needs to know this!” Bullot growled back.

 

“But i'm bonded to one, so i cant use any of the others, right?” Chloé asked, smiling weakly as both Kwammi turned to look at her. “they take up room in my soul, so i can't have too many places to put them.”

 

Bullot fell silent even as Artemista looked hopeful, turning to look at her partner.

 

Only for Bullot’s words to be drowned out by a cackling Wrath.

 

Are you kidding?! We’ve ALREADY been camping out in your soul, and the bond just makes it more permanent~” Wrath teased. “Oh you should HEAR the others screaming at me, it's Glorious! they all wanted so badly to be your first, to feel your soul’s every beautiful crack and crevice, to taste that sweet, sweet magic right at its source, rather then it leaking from your core and into our gullets~ oh the jealousy, the conflict, the ANGER~ it's enough to drive a girl to tears~” Wrath squealed, giggling as she kicked through the air like an excited schoolgirl.

 

And Chloé’s heart sank, knowing that she had effectively started down a path she couldn't stop.

 

After all, she had felt Wrath’s power. So much STRONGER then when she had been Queen Bee, or even when she was using Bullot.

 

It was intoxicating. And with six more powers she could play with at that level….

 

She knew that, no matter what she promised herself, sooner or later she would fall off the wagon.

 

And wrath knew it too, which is why she started laughing even harder.

Chapter 28: Taboo

Summary:

There are consequences for Sinning.

Notes:

MERRY! FECKING! CHRISTMAS!

I am SO sorry for leaving you all starving for so long. Thus chapter was a BITCH, from beginning to end, but it's done!

Feck me now I have a headache...

Anyways, ignore that, I'm so happy all of you enjoy my work so much. I cant wait to read the comments on this one~

Chapter Text

Chloé frowned as she hobbled her way towards the elevator, mouth firmly closed as she tried not to comment on just how close the staff were walking to her.

 

All she wanted was to go check on her sister after her first Akumatization, make sure there wasn't any permanent damage or, Kwamii forbid, actually managed to beat the two Heroes. She needed to do SOMETHING, after all, or she would go insane .

 

Of course, being crowded like a stumbling puppy was annoying her to no end. And the voice in her head wasn't helping!

 

Little Chloé, made of glass. piss her off, she’ll kick your-” 

 

Chloé batted at her ear like she had been buzzed by a fly, backhanding the spirit of Wrath in the nose as the floating specter cackled at her actions, spinning through the air like gravity was more of a suggestion then a rule 

 

This was all just a game to that crazy bitch. a show for her to watch as Chloé twitched, seeing someone moving towards the elevator button to open it before she got there.

 

a thrown crutch hit the button first, making the maid pause as Chloé stomped up, picking up the half useless thing that they INSISTED on her using, even if she felt better! turning, she looked her stunned crowd of attendants right in the eye as she pressed down the ‘close doors’ button, before selecting her destination and starting her way down.

 

ooh, nice toss. ” Wrath mused, smiling wickedly. “ What was that, darts? Baseball? Maybe throwing things at that torn up picture of hawkmoth you have? ” Wrath laughed, earning another eye twitch from Chloé as she breathed deeply.

 

In. Out. In…. Out…

 

She could deal with this. It wasn't the end of the world, just the consequences of a bad fight. Like a broken leg, or a chipped tooth.

 

Sometimes, they stuck around after, and made your life difficult.

 

“And how would the princess know that, hmm? Got some spicy stories in that bookshelf of yours? ” Wrath teased, Chloé steadfastly ignoring her as she came to the main dining table, where her Father and Zoe both were waiting.

 

“Good evening.” she nodded, earning a sunny smile from her father, and a nervous one from Zoe as she settled into her chair. “You know, I’m not the fastest right now. You could have started without me.” she said, trying to be diplomatic as the rest of her family. 

 

“Even if they are treating you like a porcelain doll~” Wrath giggled, moving to hover over her shoulder as she stiffened.

 

In this well cleaned room, with all the preventative measures the Hotel took care to keep up, especially in the kitchen and dining room? There was no way for her to brush that off as a fly. Meaning she would have Wrath in her ear this entire time as her family tried to splutter out excuses to why they hadn't started without her.

 

Such bullshit .

 

You know, you could show them you don't need them~ ” Wrath purred as Chloé just started eating, ignoring the spluttering sister and patronizing papa as she decided to fill her stomach. After her… incident, earlier, she was starving .

 

And how would I do that? Chloé thought sarcastically, eyes glancing to her family as they stopped talking and decided to bury their lying mouths in food, if only to stop trying to feed her nonsense.

 

Well, just don't take things they offer! If they want to help you to the elevator, just move by yourself. Give you a shoulder to lean on? Walk right past them. You don't need them, and it's honestly insulting they keep trying ” Wrath purred, putting a frown on Chloé’s face as she tried to enjoy her…. she didn't even know what it was, she was too hungry to care and was more focused on her thoughts anyways. 

 

And then I’d be back to my old, bitchy self. No thank you. She thought back, shaking her head with a sigh as she ignored their worried looks. She had come here for a reason anyways, looking up to look at Zoe worriedly.

 

“Is everything alright? You went through something really bad today.” she said, watching Zoe stiffen, before rubbing the back of her head.

 

“You… heard about that, huh?” She asked, sounding sheepish as Chloé shrugged.

 

“People talk online. though no one can seem to agree what set you off. I’ve seen a dozen different theories now.” she said, before putting on a wry smirk. Might as well poke the bear  a bit. show she wasn't completely helpless. “Some of them swear up and down I’m beating and berating you while you're here, so of course you exploded in class over something minor.”

 

She smirked, watching Zoe’s ire skyrocket as she inhaled, like she was about to scream at the top of her lungs, before noticing Chloé’s wry expression, and deflating with a sheepish look.

 

“... You'rNe not doing anything of the sort.” she grumbled, and Chloé just shrugged, shaking her head.

 

“I’m not a good person, Zoe.” Chloé said simply, shivering as memories flooded her again, clamping her mouth shut as her food tried to make a return trip at her latest- no…. no, that one goes in the box. It stays in the box.

 

“I thought it was particularly good work. ” Wrath grinned, earning a mental glare and a sigh as Chloé just smiled.

 

The dinner continued on like that for a while, everyone just talking around each other as her father and sister, and she would never get used to thinking that , tried to keep her out of the loop on anything that might upset her, likely thinking about her delicate condition as she sighed.

 

finishing her meal, she stood, taking the crutches from a concerned servant as she rolled her eyes at the sad, pitying looks from across the table as she ll but stormed off. an impressive feat, considering she still needed to rest now and then while using the cursed things.

 

soon making her way back to her room, Chloé nearly roared , tossing the stupid crutches onto the floor as she stomped around her room like an enraged dragon pacing her hoard, gesturing silently with her hands as she tried to express her feelings without a single word that could leak through the door, and potentially into a waiting servant’s ears.

 

You don't badmouth your family, at least not at high decibels. That was a good way to feed the rumor mill. And she had enough problems without the forever spinning factory having more fuel to slander her with.

 

Finally, she had a thought.

 

She didn't want to rage here? where people could hear?

 

she would just go elsewhere.

 

“Bullot, necklace.” She ordered, earning a raised brow from the tiny ant before he shrugged.

 

“Your the boss. eed to get away for a bit?” he asked, getting a stiff nod as he floated the ant medallion over, Chloé gratefully taking it into her hand as-

 

Maniacal laughter, a city in flames as she stomped her way down the street, sword dripping blood like a river, the naked blade baring marks of combats and ware, a string of miraculous dangling from her belt like trophies . Butterfly, ladybug, cat, fox, turtle, dragon.

 

Bee.

 

Chloé hissed, pulling back like she had been stung as she stumbled away from a surprised Bullot, necklace still dangling in his grasp as Wrath snickered.

 

She had something to do with this, Chloé knew it. But she needed to get out to relax. It was too… suffocating here. to compressed.

 

“Ditzy? Artemista?” Chloé asked, a bit more delicately, as the Dodo slowly nodded, retrieving her anklet and floating to Chloé as she nodded gratefully, taking it from her hands.

 

A sickly smile on her face as she walked through barren streets, buildings shattered around her, cars smashed and crumpled like expensive soda cans. They are potential weapons, after all. A speeding car was dangerous~ a Weapon. Smashing into her barrier at full speed had been only the first step. the sweet, squishy noises the occupants made when the car had rocked back like it had just been run into full speed itself? Glorious. Almost as good as the cracking of the bricks as she had slammed her fist into them over, and over, and over again. It had broken her fingers, but she healed preternaturally quickly. the bricks, having broken her bones and been broken in return, not so much. crack, crack, crack, until the building was listing, tilting, falling . and then it would rebound, and slam into another. She always did love dominos~

 

A muffled scream as she moved, batting the bracelet, and thereby the Kwammi, out of the air like it burned her.Artemista just righted herself, a worried look in her eye as Chloé darted around the room, hastily grabbing at Sliip’s choker, ignoring the pained wince on his face as he expected the worst.

 

A sea of smog. A city full of those forever asleep, drained of every drop of their energy as Chloé relaxed, huffing her oversized pipe easily as she let a sickly smile cross her face. in a necropolis, she was the most lively thing there! What a laugh. With a self amused chuckle, she breathed deep once more, sighing in content as the warmth of her sated anger kept her nice and toasty.

 

The choker slipped from limp fingers, Chloé’s pale face showing all the little fish needed to know as he cuddled her fingers, not saying anything as she slowly turned to Wrath.

 

“W… what was that?” she hissed, eyes narrowed as the floating girl just grinned, looking ll too smug .

 

Well, It was just me showing you how to best use those powers of yours .” Wrath grinned. “ I mean, you have some of the most dangerous Kwammi in the world at your disposal, destroyers and false messiahs alike! I was just showing you how to use them, to finally sate that hungry beast inside. The one who’s even now screaming, ``It's not fair´´!” Wrath giggled, as Chloé finally let the horrible truth sink in.

 

She was sharing her mind with the worst of the worst. A creature that was not just wrath incarnate.

 

No, it was incredibly, irrevocably worse.  It was her , a version of her that didn't let herself stop, that lashed out at every little slight, and reveled in the feeling. This was a version of herself who couldn't see happiness, unless someone else was suffering for it.

 

And Wrath, as if reading her mind, just smiled .

 

Go ahead, take your pick. Which miraculous will you be using to escape~ ” Wrath grinned, knowing she had effectively neutered Chloé’s desire to leave.

 

Chloé belonged to her now, after all. she wouldn't let her suffer through these inferior creatures. she was hers, and hers alone.

 

with a content sound, she leaned down, wrapping herself around her host as Chloé stiffened, feeling the pervasive chill as Wrath embraced her like a lover, holding her tight, as her world collapsed around her.

Chapter 29: Empathy

Summary:

What else shouod you feel, seeing someone who has walked a path you could have tred?

Notes:

Back again with a brainchild harder to pin down then a plot bunny. This time, it only took three months!

In all seriousness, my thoughts have been drifting over thus chapter since the past, co stantly coming back to read my own work, chapters and comments both.

And the best part? I didnt even get to the part I had been planning out since then!

Chapter Text

Chloé pulled away, shivering as she turned around and looked Wrath in the eyes. Looked at herself, full of pain. full of Rage.

 

These were the eyes of a girl who wanted to see the world burn, who wanted to enjoy herself, as Chloé took her revenge. On her so-called ‘friends’, on the ‘heroes’, on the whole damn city. 

 

This was a girl who had more fiery indignation than even Firebug. This city had wronged her, had stolen from her, had made her feel like nothing! She was furious, burning a candle at both ends with an unlimited wick.

 

And with that thought, something finally hit Chloé. And with a frown, she looked at her, at this burning pyre of all things decent, and thought, multiple thoughts polarizing as she looked at Wrath in a new light, earning a flinch from the specter as the watching Kwamii’s faltered. Something in Chloé’s eyes had changed , as she looked at the space before her.

 

She didn't look shaken anymore. She didn't look afraid . She looked… curious. but also with eyes full of understanding .

 

Wrath was an unstoppable blaze, an all consuming fire.

 

Because if she flickered, waned, or even considered stopping? Those hefty chains, so hard to burn away, would drag her into Despair.

 

Because, in the end, what was wrath if not trying to hurt the ones who had hurt you? What was the sin of anger, if not lashing out at the world that had harmed you, beaten you down, and made you question everything about anything? what was it, if not finding that answer wanting .

 

As these feelings ran through her head, Wrath’s smile turned into a frown, shying a bit away at the turn those thoughts made as she scowled. “ oh will you get off your high horse? I'm not broken, or injured. I’m angry! these people, this world, they can all burn, be it by my hand, or another. they're nothing but sheep, sticking in their herd. or rats, fleeing from one ship to another. Their Pests. that need to be exterminated

 

“You can tell me that. You can even tell yourself that.” Chloé said, looking at her echo of Wrath. “And I wont deny anger and wrath can feel good, if someone has hurt you enough. But anger, by itself, is a flimsy thing. It's when another causes it that you can truly feel wrath.”

 

Wrath actually let out a snarl at that. narrowing her eyes as she moved forward. “ don't you pity me. I. Am. Wrath! I’m not some piddly little crying girl that you can comfort and change, I’m ANGER INCARNATE! AND YOU DON'T GET TO TRY AND CALL ME OTHERWISE!

 

“Maybe it's not pity.” Chloé said, a sad, understanding smile sliding slowly across her lips. “It may be shriveled up and dying like an ill watered flower, but do you really think I don't feel Empathy for myself? You're me. That means, I know how you think.” she explained, earning a frustrated sound from Wrath as she just brightened her sad smile a bit. “And just like me, you know that showing me those memories will just make me choose another path, to spite you. Tell me, how long have you been fighting off the Apathy in my soul?”

 

That made Wrath falter, a snarl coming to her face as she tried to cover her guilt. “ What are you on about? Why would I ever do something like that for you? I’m here to twist you into using me, not to be a support pillar or some stupid thing like that.”

 

“Hmm… You say that, and yet I've never felt calmer.” Chloé mused. “You're supposed to be a parasite type miraculous, that means you feed on me. So, what exactly do you feed on? I can guess. Do you want to explain?”

 

Whats there to fucking explain. the angrier you get, the more powerful I am.” Wrath huffed. “ So what? Is there something special about that, besides me encouraging you to go apeshit?”

 

“Because I think otherwise.” Chloé said, eyes locking onto Wrath’s own, baby blue meeting simmering red. “I think that you're a sink. a place to shove all that hurt, that pain, that rage, and let it go away to nothing. you're a fire, consuming every emotion I give you until only anger is left. Keeping me going, keeping me on track. and making it so I can't stop what I'm starting. That is why you're the first rose in the chain, isn't it? All the others are intertwined so much, you can see where it starts or where it ends. But yours is dead center. yours is the one that isn't connected to the second ring at all. just all the other flowers in the sin circuit. You're here, to drag me out of ruts, and keep me moving. Sure, you can corrupt me, make me stumble and fall, turn me into an unthinking beast that can't even consider the other sins, or moving deeper, but that's not your true purpose.”

 

The fuck you mean it isnt.” Wrath hissed. “ I’m here to claim you as mine . as the sins! you belong to us, just as much as we belong to you! So stop trying to talk circles around me! you're pissing me off! ” Wrath roared, the sound sending shivers through Chloé’s bones as she smirked.

 

“Well, if you say so.” Chloé grinned, having a bit of fun as she watched Wrath flounder and hiss. So very Tsundere, but at the same time, a true corrupting influence.

 

She was half bullshitting the keeper of anger. She knew Wrath was trying to corrupt her, but at the same time… Well, wrath could be a good tool, if kept under wraps and under control. a driving force, something to keep her moving forward ahead or after her enemies. keeping herself true.

 

But, at the same time, she needed a way to burn off the Apathy weighing her down as well. Bullot and Ditzy were all well and good, balancing each other out, but she was sad to say that, with Wrath burning away the Apathy, she had been falling into a rut. she had been slowing down, too cautious, too… well, too downtrodden. 

 

Demis had scared her, made her paranoid. And for good reason! reenergized as she was, she still needed to rebuild her muscle mass. Demis had cost her months of her life. Was it any wonder she wanted a surplus, in case someone like Necrolancer came back?

 

But… she was getting repetitive. Daiyu had proved that to her. If she had been using Artemisa, would she have been taken down so easily? ambushed, and fought to a standstill?

 

The box of Conflict was a trap, and she had fallen into Sliip’s

 

She couldn't fall into it again.

 

Add onto that fact, what she had seen with Wrath’s visions had bothered her. She was scared. Could Wrath corrupt her like she had shown? The answer was almost a definite yes . So, she needed a new plan, a new face. someone to help keep her balanced.

 

Turning to the trio of confused gods, Chloé inspected them, blinking slowly. Artemista was perplexed, well and truly confused. her head was tilted like a curious dog’s, and her eyes studying. Like Chloé was a puzzle that she couldn't quite figure out.

 

Bullot was laughing in his mouth, that much she could tell. Wrath was just a part of War, so he had seen the part she was arguing with. and to see her turn it on its head, even if he could only hear half the conversation, was entertaining to him.

 

The real problem here, was Sliip. The little fish had looked heartbroken the moment she said Wrath was burning Apathy, meaning she had fallen deeper into his pit than either of them had thought. He had unintentionally put her in a rut, put her in danger.

 

He looked crestfallen, even as Chloé walked over and cupped him in her hands, bringing the sad little Kwamii to her forehead to give him a cuddle. “It's alright, Sliip.” she said, smiling. “You couldn't have known. It's just an aspect of your power. I should have been keeping an eye on it too.”

 

“But I nearly got you killed ” Sliip said, horrified, as he enjoyed her warmth. “I nearly lost one of the few people who used me, enjoyed using me, because I wanted to be used more. You should renounce me.” the sad little creature said, voice firm, if hurt.

 

Never .” Chloé growled, in a voice that wasn't entirely her own, as all three of the little gods blinked in shock. “you three, your box, your mine . I’m your wielder, just like you are my Kwamii. two parts of the same whole. I’m not going to give that up. Not to Daiyu, not to anyone .” she snarled, catching herself as Wrath laughed behind her, enjoying the sweet, sweet honey of her magic used in anger. “Now, I have a question, please.”

 

“... go ahead…” Slipp said, a bit dumbfounded, even as a warmth erupted in his soul. She really wanted him? she really wanted him… 

 

“What can you tell me about Flicka?” Chloé asked, making the little god’s tired eyes widen, before a small smile graced his lips.

 

“You want to use my Contra?” He asked, earning a nod as the little fish’s smile only grew, slowly floating from her hands, and to their collective box, gently lifting the crane broach.

 

“I think…. She would prefer to tell you about herself.” Slipp said, gently holding the jewelry out to Chloé as she blinked, tilting her head.

 

Before reaching out, and accepting the broach.

Chapter 30: Joyous Ocassion

Summary:

A spark of joy, to cheer up this gloomy night.

Notes:

Hah! You thought it would take me that long again!? I laugh at you!

In all seriousness, I had this thing halfway written the say after I finished the last one, but writers block stopped me there. But, I wasn't going to purposefully leave you alone that long again, my loyal readers!

Chapter Text

As Chloé gently took the silver broach, she inspected it more carefully. A silver crane, mid-flight, legs stretched out behind it, head neck reaching all the way out. Wings up, like it was caught in midair.

 

“It looks like an airplane stewardess broach.” she muttered, raising her brow as a small ball of light came from the depths of the broach.

 

And the world… shifted .

 

Lights erupted from around the room, shining down like colorful spotlights focused on her hand. A violin crescendo began working itself up, following the spinning Kwamii’s progress as a ribbon trailed behind her in her hands. A crimson spot, a black and white face. Black arms on a white body. Finally, she came to a stop, tilting her head back with the sheer joy of being observed as she breathed in deeply, preparing for the true crescendo! The final part of her opening act!

 

“Oh Kwamii she’s going to sing! Cover your ears!

 

And that all came crashing down as Bullot yelped, diving under the bed like he was hiding from a bomb. the Violin cut itself off with a shriek of strings, the lights flickered, and one even fell to the side. the ribbon fell in a crumpled heap. And Fliicka?

 

Fliicka pouted.

 

“Bullot!” the little crane yelled, pouting. “You know not to throw off my groove like that! It gets me all frazzled!”

 

“Yes, And I would rather keep my hearing today!” Bullot shot back immediately, poking his head from under the bed. “You're a beautiful Kwamii with a hundred talents, able to master every art you come across to perfection. But you sing like a dying cat!

 

At that, the little Kwamii seemed to shatter , falling to the ground in little tiny shards as Chloé yelped, leaping back from the little bits of goddess before they reformed in a swirl, the crane leaping into Sliip’s arms as she sobbed.

 

.... whaaaat the hell?” Wrath muttered, slowly turning her head so much she started floating upside down as to not break her neck, earning a slow, agreeing nod from Chloé.

 

“Sliip! Bullot’s being mean to me again!” she whined, earning a slow stroke on her head and a smile as Sliip hugged her.

 

“There there, Fliicka. It's ok.” he muttered, earning a slowly raised eyebrow as she turned to look at Artemisia.

 

“Contra have very different relationships based on the pair.” the Dodo said calmly. “Me and Bullot jab at each other, finding holes in each other's arguments and ripping into them. These two are helplessly head over heels.”

 

Hah! That's funny.” Wrath snickered. “ Gods the size of your thumb can find someone to love, but your love life has about as many prospects as a dry mine!”

 

Chloé almost absently backhand Wrath again, scowling. Why did she even have a heart to heart with that specter again? Right, she saw a bit of herself in it’s… in her , pain.

 

Kwamii she wished she didn't have a bleeding heart when it came to broken things.

 

“Oh! Judging by the way Artemisia is explaining things to you, and we aren't all running around for the world to hear our screams of they're over here, officer!” Fliika started, suddenly shifting to look like she was wearing a tiny suit, briefcase in hand like a random pedestrian as she pointed right at Chloé, looking for said imaginary police. “Your our new Wielder, right?”” She asked, suddenly back to normal as Chloé slooowly backed away.

 

“I… am. I’m sorry, how-?” She started, before Bullot stopped her.

 

“We’re all a bit more tapped into our power then other Kwamii. its part of the ‘less limits’ I told you about. Its nothing really too important for most of us. I can see if a person is more inclined towards violence or peace, which I share with Ditzy over there.” he explained, motioning to Artemisia. “Sliip over there can hear depressed thoughts in a radius,  and either strengthen them, or absorb the Apathy into himself. Flitt, the Hummingbird, can turn up his own speed to give him time to think and react faster, not that the little shit ever uses it for anything other than pranks,” Bullot muttered, scowling. “while Luxx can calm people down, bringing Wielders of Guardians out of things like panic attacks, or Fight-or-Flight response.”

 

Huh, maybe you should grab the Sloth miraculous now. You know, just in case~” Wrath ribbed, earning a slight scowl as she shook her head, ignoring the Parasite’s words.

 

“And that leaves Fliicka here.” Chloé said, turning back to the matter at hand, only to find a face full of Crane as the tiny god met her face to face, a massive smile across her adorably round cheeks.

 

“Oooh, does Mistress want to know more about me?” the crane asked, earning a shiver from her choice of nickname before she flipped in the air, laughing and smiling. “I, am Fliicka!” she pronounced, flipping over to stand in a tall, heroic pose, a miniature sword forming in her hands as she brandished it to the heavens. “Kwamii of the Arts, the Soul, of Passion!” she proclaimed, tossing the sword aside to let it dissolve nearby. “Unlike most of the other Kwamii in the world, my power is malleable. I can manifest nearly anything, as long as it relates to one of the Arts. You’ll never be without an option with me!”

 

“She’s also almost entirely a support Kwamii.” Bullot said, interrupting the little showgirl again, getting a pout from the god. “While any art is one she can use, any art that hurts someone is lesser. Art is in the eye of the beholder, and most see that kind of work as a crime, or a tragedy instead. So, no real combat prowers.”

 

But! ” Fliicka continued, shooting Bullot a dirty look. “I can support however I’m needed! Songs to boost your allies, or weaken enemies? Sure! need to paint an escape or a door on a wall? Ealk right on through! Bake a tasty treat to help another Kwamii recharge? I’ve got my oven ready!” Flicka pronounced, grinning wide. “But my real specialization, is Unification!”

 

Chloé nearly toppled over herself with THAT flinch, only stopping herself by grabbing Wrath’s laughing form, and using her to steady herself as she shoved the sin down, earning a yelp of reproach.

 

“Yeah… might need to take a raincheck on that one, Fliicka.” Bullot winced, flying over to sit on Chloé’s shoulder, while Artemisia cooed and pet her hair in comfort. “Our mistress here found out a bit ago that Unification blew her core to kingdom come. It's why she leaks magic like she does.” Bullot explained, Fliicka’s eyes turning big and sad, as she sniffled.

 

“B… but that's one of my biggest strengths…” she said weakly. “It's the only way I can actually fight! And I can unify with anyone! no matter the Box or Disposition!” She said, pouting.

 

Of course, she certainly had Wrath’s attention now, the spirit floating over to get a closer look at the little crane, causing a shiver to shoot up the Kwamii’s spine.

 

This little god, can unify with me?” Wrath asked, sounding… intrigued? “ Maybe she’s not so useless after all!”  

 

Chloé immediately shot a glare at the floating specter. “No Kwamii is useless.” she huffed, earning a confused, and slightly hurt, look from her newest before Sliip took her aside, explaining what had happened earlier that day as Chloé stalked over to Wrath. The Look in her eye stopped her doppelganger dead as the specter put up her hands, a smile on her face showing her amusement even as she surrendered.

 

Allright, allright, fair enough. Kwamii knows how many times I’ve heard that tossed at me, so I shouldn't say the same.”  Wrath Acquiesced, taking the footing out from under Chloé’s righteous anger as she stumbled, trying and failing to do anything but sputter before, with a scowl, she turned and stalked towards her bed.

 

“That's it, I’m done with you, my family, and the world in general. Only my Kwamii can stay in my good graces right now. I’m going to bed.” She huffed. “Gods help you if you wake me for anything less than an Akuma Attack.”

 

“We won't.” Artemisia grinned, tone sweet as ever, as Chloé disrobed, got onto her bed, and passed out, greatful the day was finally over .

 

Not knowing just how busy the next day would be.

Chapter 31: Black and White

Summary:

A chilly day in Paris, only made more dangerous by the heat of a fire.

Notes:

Oooh, you guys are *not ready fir this*. I'm grinning ear to ear at finally being able to put these next few chapters together. Ive been hammering out the idea itself for the better part of a month to make sure I got it all down before I started writing. These next parts are going to be frightful, powerful, and with just a *dash* of humor to keep the gears flowing. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Text

Chloé woke in the morning with a feeling that was, unfortunately, becoming all too common. With groan of pain, wincing a bit as her body creaked and cracked, the air in the room cold as her fan blew over her, her hand reaching out quickly to shut it off as she rolled over on her bed, slowly raising to her feet with a wince as she walked over to the window and opened it to look outside.

 

Moments after opening, the window slammed shut with enough force to rattle the glass as Chloé’s teeth chattered, and her breath fogged.

 

“It's late september.” Chloé growled, breath puffing as she stiffly walked to her closet, and pulled out the thickest blanket she had in her storage. “Why is it snowing .”

 

Hmm ” Wrath mused, awake and alert despite the temperature making the other Kwamii rise slower. The perks of an intangible body. “ You did blast the entire city into winter a few months early. right at the end of summer no less! If nothing else, that would upset the climate a bit.

 

“Miraculous Ladybug.” Chloé shot back, teeth chattering even as she struggled moving, finally tossing the big blanket onto the bed and climbing under it. “That should have fixed anything I did. And that also doesn't explain why I feel like every joint in my body has frozen over.”

 

“That…” Bullot started, only to pause at the glaring eyes peeking out at him from under the comforter, looking for answers yet not amused by his tone, or the pain. “Is probably holdover from Demiis. You held the incarnation of winter in your body. There's going to be some holdovers.” He finished, sighing as she snorted.

 

“What, so until I use the Summer Miraculous, I'm going to feel like this every time it snows? This is Paris. Even when it does snow once a year, at most, that's still one or two days a year I’m going to be useless.” she huffed, refusing to come out of her palace of warmth even as Bullot looked… distinctly nervous , and sad. “What. what aren't you telling me.”

 

“The physical leftovers of the transformations… probably won't go away.” Artemista said, trying to be as gentle as possible even as she hovered above the blankets, watching as the figure shifting underneath froze like the snow outside. “They're different for each of the Four, and different for every user they’ve had, but the changes are always permanent. One of the ones who used Demiis in the past would get terrible migraines during winter storms, another grew chilled at any temperature below 60 Fahrenheit.” Artemista continued, ready to keep comroting before Chloé reached out from under the blanket and swatted at her half heartedly. It wasn't a true attempt to hurt her, but Artemista got the message loud and clear.

 

“So when it snows, I feel like there’s icicles in my joints. Wonderful.” Chloé groaned. “I’m going back to bed. I’ll do any homework or schoolwork later, but I can't focus on anything with this cold.” She muttered, Sliip slipping out of the blanket pile and going over to the room’s thermometer, turning up the heat a bit as Fliicka wormed her way under the covers, muttering tiredly about birds and south as the rest of the Kwamii moved to do the same.

 

All but Wrath, who looked at the blanket pile and, seeing no one looking at her, decided it was time for a few… preparations.

 

A day like this, there would certainly be someone upset. Which meant, sooner or later, a winter Akuma.

 

And with her mistress’s new aversion to cold, any good Kwamii would work to make sure she didn't have to worry, no?

 

Wrath snickered to herself as she floated over to the curtains, expending a bit of her gatheredWrath to close the curtains fully from where Chloé had opened them alongside the window, blotting out the sky, the sun, and the snow as she flew next to the door, locking it tight and turning the dim lights entirely off, turning off the timer as well.

 

Finally, Wrath moved to the most dangerous thing in the room, the thing that would, if she was seen messing with it, would get a delicious burst of anger no matter what.

 

Wrath looked over Chloé’s cellphone and, with a little smirk, clicked it to Mute, and then opened the screen and set it to Airplane Mode.

 

Her mistress shouldnt be disturbed out of her blanket bundle. It wasn't good for her health.

 

With a silent snicker, the trickster slipped herself under the bed, resting in the pitch darkness like a demon from the Grimm times as she closed her eyes and relaxed.

 

Waiting to feed the moment Chloé knew what she had done.

 

Waiting with a wide, sickly grin, as golden magic poured out of her mouth like blood, as she drank her fill from the leaking reserves of her new wielder.

 

—---------------------------

 

Brandon Duval was a simple man, with simple pleasures, and simple dreams. He worked a nine to five, rode around the city on his bike to get to and from work, and had a perfectly normal job running his family’s art supply shop.

 

The only thing even slightly extraordinary about Brandon, was his passion.

 

This man, full of simple looks and simple works, had an imagination that ran wilder than any jungle, and worked day and night to transcribe his dreams into designs, characters and scenes, comics and scene panels coming to him as easily a she breathed as he made a world for his beloved characters.

 

His dream, deep in his heart, was to become a cartoonist. To let his lovable goofs bounce around on the screen, to come to life in a way he could never get quite right. He had taken inspiration from the old american cartoons, bouncy black and whites, smooth lines and simple movements in rubberhose style.

 

His most prized possession was a framed work of his own. His very first characters. Tippy the Imp, a mischievous character he used to imagine poking him in the shoulder with his little pitchfork, trying to talk him into getting into trouble, horns curled up and back like an antelopes, rather than the classic curved goat horns. Standing on the other side of the drawn pair of shoulders was Tippy’s  counterpart, Tammy, A bored looking angel girl who looked to the world like she would just laze about in the sun all day if she could, if it weren't for her one true joy in life. Messing up Tippy’s plans.

 

The pair were the first characters he had ever imagined, hovering over his own shoulders. The first characters he had ever drawn, blobby and uneven as they had been, only grew better over time as he improved his style again and again, until it was even starting to get recognition online for how unique his style was nowadays.

 

He loved that picture.

 

And, looking around the smoldering remains of his studio apartment, Brandon couldn't help but feel overwhelming despair as he saw his hundreds of pictures, his countless characters, crumpled to soot and ash.

 

Couldn't help but cover his mouth and sob as he wandered through the burnt out shell of his home, seeing the many scorch marks where his pinned up drawings used to be.

 

His ears were ringing too much to hear the fireman behind him telling him how it had apparently been a break in, how apparently the thief had been looking for anything truly valuable in his little compact home, and had started throwing around his sketches to look under them.

 

And with the smoldering embers of the classical fireplace his landlord had installed when the building was first made, one of the pages had gone inside, started crisping, and then burst into flame.

 

The scattered papers on the ground had done the rest.

 

Falling to his knees, Brandon lost himself in his tears, hand gently reaching out to scoop up the broken, scattered remains of that familiar picture frame that had held Tippy and Tammy. the only recognizable piece left, hidden in a corner where the fire hadn’t reached.

 

Just a scorched piece of paper with his name on it. The artist's mark, with his own little symbol clearly on it from the custom stamp he had commissioned for this job personally.

 

And as he wept, the fireman quickly backed away, eyes widening as a familiar purple butterfly phased through the wall, the uniformed man fleeing for his life as the little insect landed on the piece of the frame in Brandons hands, and Hawkmoth spoke.

 

Blot, You have lost much today. you have lost years of work, all to a man who even now flees the scene, suffering nothing more than a scorched coat. It is unfair. But that doesn't mean it has to stay that way. ” Hawkmoth promised, his voice rich as honey in the artist’s ears. “ You could bring them all to life, no silver screen required. let the world see what has been taken away from you. and let your friends get revenge for the wonderful works you made of them. ” he tempted, making Brandon slowly get to his feet, eyes hardening, even as sorrow filled his sapphire orbs.

 

“The chance to bring my friends to life? That's all I ever wanted.” Brandon said, smile pained as the energy flowed over him, his physical features fading under a sheen of ink as he staggered backwards at the sudden rush of power, before letting out a hideous groan as his body began to burble and shake, ink pouring out of him to fill his apartment, to roll down the stairs to the street like a flooding bathtub as the ink continued to flow out. 

 

As deep within it's dark depths, black and white eyes began to open, and grins, both mischievous and monstrous, began to form.

Chapter 32: A Splash of Blue

Summary:

The fight begins, but with the heros already at a disadvantage, can a bright idea help lead them from the dark?

Notes:

OY VEY this one was through! Been sitting half complete for months! But, I told myself, I would either release this chapter on my birthday, or on Christmas. So, happy holidays to all, have a present!

Chapter Text

“Ugh, what is with all this ink?!” Chat groaned, leaping from the roof of a car to a nearby light pole as he looked down at the slowly rising tide of deep, dark black. “It's not stopping, and I haven't seen the Akuma anywhere.”

 

“They’re probably at the center!” Ladybug called, leaping over a rooftop with a trio of buzzing bees darting behind her, the ink creations seemingly dead set on stabbing her with their knife-like stingers. “They’re also heavily guarded!” she said, a bit redundantly as she swung hard around a drying pole, the bees slamming into the brick wall behind her stinger first, lodging themselves there with their wings screeching in rage as they tried to pull themselves out. 

 

“Still no luck finding a path through?” Chat asked rhetorically, tilting his head at the slowly rising ocean of ink. “Cause I’m fairly sure if I go down there, no one will ever be able to find me.”

 

“It might be our only choice.” Ladybug sighed, looking around with a frown. “Of course, this is normally when Menagerie shows up with a hair brained solution, and another Kwamii to fix all our problems.”

 

“Hopefully not a black one. Imagine trying to find the Orca Kwamii in this mess?” Chat said, shivering as he grinned. “Needle in a haystack doesn't even begin to cut it.”

 

“Speaking of cutting, have you sunk your claws into this stuff yet?” Ladybug shot back, looking out for more minions as Chat frowned.

 

“Haven't tried yet, I want to keep the charge up. Don't want to fall into the red, after all, not when everyone else is firmly in the black” he said, grinning as she rolled her eyes.

 

“That was a horrible pun, even if you didn't mean it like one-” “I totally did.” “Lets just keep moving.” Ladybug finished, bouncing back to the rooftop. “Best case scenario, we find the Akuma floating on top of this stuff like an otter and we can just snatch the item and fix all this. I don't fancy seeing Paris drown again.”

 

“Yeah, Undyne was a bit much.” Chat agreed, not seeing Ladybug’s wince as they took to the roofs, starting to bounce their way towards the center of the flood.

 

And, maybe five roofs in, running into more cartoon characters, this time a towering flower rising from the depths of the ink, swaying back and forth with a dopey grin. But, if how the swaying petals were moving through the concrete like it was nothing was any indication, Chat figured that getting close wasn't a good idea.

 

“Ugh, this place might be an artist’s dream, but it's looking more like a nightmarish hellscape to me.” Chat muttered, shaking his head as Ladybug paused, looking at him for a moment before smiling, and sweeping the black cat into a hug.

 

“Oh Chat, you're a genius!” She proclaimed, earning a blink from chat before she set him down, leaving him standing there dazed and dumbfounded as she turned. “I’ll be right back. keep yourself safe, allright?”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Chat said, obviously still dazed from the sudden hug, before turning around with his dazed look to see there was something circling above his head, turning up to see hearts rolling around his head like cartoon birds.

 

only for said hearts to start dropping like hailstones as he yelped and started dodging, dancing around the falling symbols of affection as the things under the ink laughed, taking joy in the black cat’s misfortune as more things started to appear for him to dodge.

 

All the while, the crimson ladybug flew, heading towards someone who might be their salvation.

 

“Who better to tame ink, then an artist.” Ladybug said, smiling as she lept from rooftop to rooftop, a decision firm in her mind, no matter how unsettled the idea of letting a miracle out of her care felt, for even a few hours.

 

But, it would need to happen. They couldn't handle something this big on their own.

 

—----------------------

 

Nathaniel frowned, looking down at the ground below as he sat upon the rooftop, glancing around nervously. In truth, he had been up on his roof, trying to settle his thoughts with his art after the… incident yesterday. Trying to settle what he had thought, with what he knew now.

 

A bully, a constant source of fear and pain for him, had vanished. And he had been happy. He hadn't looked further into the situation, just relaxed for the short time he thought he had.

 

He should have been worried after the first month, but at that point the relief had been overwhelming, the calm fulfilling. He had even started coming out of his shell a bit more.

 

but, that could be settled later. For now, his only real concern was the rising tide of ink that was slowly coming up the building side. It was a bit disconcerting, especially with how he swore he saw it moving in odd ways, ways that weren't normal for liquid.

 

Not to mention the animated cartoons he saw wandering the other rooftops.

 

Just as he was about to try and find a way to get farther from the epicenter, a familiar noise to any Parisian who hadn't been living under a rock caught his ear. The sound of a Yo-yo string.

 

“Ladybug!” Nathaniel said, looking up with a smile as the crimson potted hero came to his side. “How can I help?”

 

“Well, as Nathaniel, you can't.” Ladybug said, a forced smile crossing her lips before she settled into the Ceremony. “But, with this, you can.” she finished, holding out the two hair clips. “This is the Miraculous of Passion.” She started, before pausing, a shiver running down her spine.

 

—-------

 

Half a city away, a small figure peeked out from under a blanket, eyes narrowed as she sleepily glared around the dark room.

 

“I smell goatshit.” Flikka muttered, slowly blinking before huffing, muttering about goats and cold before clambering back under the covers with her Mistress and fellow Kwamii.

 

—--------

 

Shaking it off, Ladybug continued, smiling to a shocked looking Nathaniel. “With this, you can help us save the city. I only ask that you return it once the Akuma is defeated.”

 

“Not really a team player, Ladybug.” Nathaniel said, but he was already taking the clips, looking at the little horns with a smile on his face, feeling a flickering of… something. A connection.

 

“Aren't you the one working with someone else to make a ladybug comic?” Ladybug said, grinning, as Nathaniel relented, smiling as he clipped the horns to his head, smiling at the little Kwamii to appear next to him.

 

“Hi, My name is Ziggy. I’m your Kwamii!” Ziggy said, smiling warmly as she looked over her new wielder. “You look like someone who can really bring your art to life. Perfect for the Kwamii of Passion.” She said, before freezing as she felt a ripple of power, frowning as she glanced to the side, making both Nathaniel and Ladybug blink.

 

“um… Ziggy?” Nathanial asked, making the Kwamii refocus on him with a smile.

 

“Sorry, I thought I felt something fowl.” Ziggy said, giggling at her own joke. “To activate my Miraculous, call out ‘Bleat it’, and to turn it off, its ‘Hush it!’” Ziggy said, smiling as Nathanial blinked, memorizing the words before nodding.

 

“Allright, Ziggy, Bleat it!” Nathanial said, smiling, as a cyan light flashed over his form.

 

—--------------------

 

“I'm telling you, Chloé, someone is out there stealing my title again!” Flikka whined, floating near the covered window as Chloé grumbed and walked towards it. “It's that stupid hunk of capretto trying to tell everyone SHE’S the Kwamii of passion again, I just know it!” Flikka huffed, leading her groaning wielder to the window.

 

“Flikka, there hasn't been a peep out of my phone, no one's been trying to get in, and it's still cold. There’s no Akuma alarms either. The only reason Ladybug would bring out one of the secondary miracles would be an Akuma.” Chloé groaned.

 

“but I can feel it! ” Flikka whined, earning a sigh from Chloé.

 

“Fine, fine. but if there’s no Akuma, you come right back to bed and let me rest.” Chloé said, looking dead at the Kwamii of Passion as she nodded, earning a nod in return from Chloé as she turned and opened her curtains, tiredly looking for the supposed Akuma.

 

And pausing.

 

Blinking slowly, Chloé took in the landscape, the roiling sea of ink, the dark clouds raining more down from the sky. the black monsters that looked almost like they were made out of tar. It looked like a scene from a cartoonist’s version of an apocalypse, back in the 80s.

 

taking a deep breath, Chloé grabbed the curtains, shutting them, and turning around, huffing as she started stumbling back to her bed.

 

“Chloé?!” Flikka called, surprised. She had seen the same scene as her wielder. This ment there was an Akuma! a chance to flex her wings, and show who the true Kwamii of Passion was!

 

And here was her wielder walking away!

 

“Nope. I'm going back to bed. wake me when sanity is back on the menu.” Chloé huffed, clambering back under her blankets and snuggling back in with the other Kwamii, sighing as she tried to get comfortable again as Flikka whined, starting to try and force her wielder up.

 

All the while, the black storm outside Raged .