*This idea just sprang to mind one day. It was originally going to be a Sleeping Beauty AU, but it has elements of Brave to it. Please enjoy it, and I would appreciate some feedback. Thank you!*

I pressed my ear hard to the door, waiting for my parent's footsteps to pass by my room. My mother's, quick and light, came first. I heard her by my door and I felt myself tense. I wasn't supposed to be awake. I kept feeling my eyelids droop, but I still waited. When my father's clunky, awkward steps occurred I leapt towards my dresser and pulled it away carefully, not to awake my parents, to reveal a hidden box, which I kept secret to everyone but Alya and Tikki.

I reached in and grabbed my sewing kit. It wasn't much, but it was all I had. It contained a few needles, some thread and a few scraps of fabric, which I had salvaged from old clothes, but it meant the world to me. All my life, I've wanted to design clothing, but my parent forbid it. I think they want me to be a baker, just likethem. They don't understand me very much, but I don't mind. They're my parents, and I love them. Still, I can't pull myself away from fashion.

Tikki must have heard me as I fumbled to light the candle on my bedside table. She's is a kwami. There are millions of kwamis and each one is connected to a certain human. Their job, other than companionship, is to tell us our destiny. Not our death day or our future spouse, but our purpose. Even then, only a vague description like hero or king or, more commonly, baker. The telling of fate always occurs on your 16th birthday.
Mine is in two days.

Tikki sighed. She disapproved of my sewing dreams as much as my parents, but she let me express my creativity like the sweet kwami she is.
"Really?" She piped. "Your telling of fate is in two days. Shouldn't you be resting?"
I threaded the needle carefully before answering.
"Yeah, but I'm nearly finished this."

She was awake now. She zoomed to my shoulder and perched on my shoulder.

I gestured towards the dress I was concocting. I had scraped up enough for red and black fabric with the money I had been given for my birthday last year. I decided on a ladybug pattern, red with black spots, and I had started sewing about two months ago, but the design process had taken for what felt like forever. The dress was for the annual masquerade ball. I've always wanted to attend, but it's only for 16 and older. Lucky for me, it was on my birthday.

"I only have a day, Tikki."
She eyed the needle like it was a sword.
"Alright, just be careful."
"It's just sewing."

She snorted like she knew something I didn't. Well she did, but you know what I mean.

MLBMLBMLBMLBMLB

I was exhausted as I walked down the stairs. The dress that I was working on took two hours to finish. Tikki told me off during the entire time, but it was worth it. The bottom step creaked loudly, as usual.

"Papa! You said you were going to fix that."
"Sorry, Marinette." He grinned. "Happy day before your birthday!"

My mother chuckled.

"I have to meet Alya before school." I told them. Papa's kwami, Raba, zoomed in with my usual morning croissant.
"Thank you." I automatically replied before rushing out the door. Alya was waiting for me and grinned.
"Hey." She said.
Trixx waved to Tikki from Alya's shoulder.
"Hi." I replied.

We started towards school. Alya and I had the same birthday and she was probably the most excited about her telling of fate than anyone else in Paris. She's never had those princess daydreams, like I had, but she has always wanted to save people. Our childhood games were the hero (Alya) saves the princess (me) from a vicious dragon. A non-existent character usually played the dragon. When we got older, she started to spar with wooden spoons, forks and once, knives. Her mother nearly killed her.

I always supported Alya's hero fantasies, but deep down I knew that she could never manage it. Only men were given the title of hero. Still, I humored her. Alya's been my best friend since we were born. Our mothers were childhood friends and always took us for walks in the woods together.
We reached the school with me veering to a different topic when she mentioned fate. I was not eager to talk yet.

School flew by, landing us with a pile of homework to finish over the weekend. Alya and me headed to a nearby café with Nino, our other friend. We always went over there after school on Fridays, and Alya fixed us something to eat. Her mother ran the café. The bell above the door rattled as Nino pushed the door open.

"Hi, Mrs. Cessaire!" I chirped towards the woman who was cleaning a table in the far corner.
"Hello, Marinette." She replied with a smile. "Big day soon?"
"Massive." I pulled a face and sat down across from Nino.

The place was practically empty. A cluster of elderly women sipped tea at a table for four over a book. Nino stared at the ceiling. He was a confirmed musician, like he's always wanted to be. Apparently he would get a long and happy life. His kwami had told him so.

Alya placed slices of toast with cheese on top in front of us. The red cheddar had melted slightly into a semi molten, sticky layer. I took a large bite and wiped the remnants away with the back of my hand. Alya had also brought in a cookie for Tikki, which she seized and then started breaking off small chunks.
Alya plunked herself down beside Nino.

I hadn't met either of there eyes all day. Alya must have caught on.
"Hey, it can't be that bad." She said encouragingly. "It's not like you're the cursed one. I mean she's got it bad. Very bad."

I sighed. The cursed one is a ridiculous story meant to scare young children into never defying Hawkmoth. Apparently the girl was given something that the sorcerer wanted as a baby, and he just went into the house and demanded it. The parents of the girl refused. Just point blank refused. He flew into a rage. No one knows why he didn't just take it. Instead, he cursed the girl. When she grows to the age of 17, she will somehow No one knows what the object was, what the curse was or even whom the girl is. I always scoffed at the story but I was thankful for the support.

MLBMLBMLB

It was half eleven. Mama and Papa had called Tikki and I downstairs. Papa passed me a mug of hot tea. I didn't drink it; I just held my nose over it and breathed in the sweet scent. They gave Tikki a cookie too. I let my mind wander to the dress I was secretly concocting in my room. I imagined every fault I had found, and how to improve it. I created the perfect dress in my head. Before I knew it, Tikki was prodding me.

"It's nearly time."
I bit my lip. Seamstress. I thought desperately. My heart throbbed.
I stared at the clock.
Five minutes. Four. Three. Two. Thirty seconds.

The grandfather clock chimed. My eyes went straight to Tikki's, as did my parents.

Tikki sighed.
"Marinette Dupain-Cheng, your destiny was to become an amazing seamstress."
I stared in confusion.
"Was?"

Tikki looked towards my parents. My mother stood up.
"Mari, when you were a baby, you were gifted earrings by the local healer. The earrings you wear today, in fact."
I lifted a hand to my earrings. I'd had them ever since I could I can remember.

They meant a lot to me and I never took them off.

"When you were a year old, he came for them and we didn't let him take them."
I forgot my mother was speaking.
"Mama, Who came for them?"
"Marinette, Hawkmoth came for them." Tikki chimed in softly.
I choked. This sounded way too familiar.
"No… No, Tikki, I can't be her."
"Mari, He cursed you. When you turn 17, you will prick your finger on a sewing needle and fall into a endless sleep."

I felt my knees collapse.
I was the girl. I was the cursed girl.
"I-I need some time." I said and sprinted out the door. I ran towards the woods and didn't look back.