It's that same thing again, seems like everyone else thinks 'ooh, you can't possibly know what she's gone through!' It's absolutely fine for her to be petty, callous, cruel, downright narcissistic, but the second I dare to do well by others, 'no, you can't do that, that's not fair to them!' Well, please, make up your mind, what can and can't I do, oh do tell me. By now I'm seething, so done with people today, I barely take notice that I've begun walking home, ignoring people shouting after me, and focusing on what I can feel of Tikki's warm presence.
By the time I'm walking through the bakery doors, I'm no longer radiating rage and loathing towards people, and I stiltedly greet my parents and retreat upstairs. As soon as I'm in my room, I let Tikki out of my purse and lay down in bed, "Oh Marinette..." The little god sighed, and flew up to nuzzle herself into the crook of my neck, "What should I do Tikki? I- I'm not s-sure what I should do anymore.." The kwami made cooed softly, and leaned in towards me a little more. I gazed down towards her with misty eyes, "Thank you for being here with me Tikki..."
The kwami and hero spoke softly for the better part of an hour, before Marinette fell into an emotionally exhausted sleep with the turmoil of her day catching up with her. The little god looked suspiciously around, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for Hawk Moth to take advantage of her partner. Finally deeming it safe enough to drift over to Marinette's desk, Tikki sat down heavily beside the girl's open sewing box, which lay on top of a sketch of a ribbon accessory for something. Tikki picked up a fairly sized sewing needle that lay apart from the rest, and moved to push it back into the tomato shaped pin cushion. As she did so, so lost in thought, she failed to notice the aura of tainted magic fill the air as an akuma winged through the skylight above Marinette.
The barely-sentient magic butterfly hesitated as it hovered; there were two possibilities for it to serve its master.. but who? The one that had called it's master in the first place had seemed to calm, but the other... The other was just beginning to get unhappy, downright angry, and called to the akuma with promises of power, fulfilling that which its master sought. In a split second it made its choice, and fluttered on silent wings down to the desk.
The little cosmic being sat there, consumed by her thoughts, gazing at the metal needle between her paws, not noticing the corrupted magic settle itself onto and into the needle she held, nor the mask of energy crowning her. "It's sad that no-one appreciates what she does, isn't it? Don't you want to be able to help her, Durga, that one so precious to you? Help her feel appreciated by her foolish peers?" With deep conviction, Tikki nodded, "Good," the villain crooned to his newest pawn, "Good, Durga, you may call me Hawk Moth. You know what I seek in return for power?" The kwami chuckled rather darkly, "The miraculouses of the Ladybug and Black Cat, yes, Hawk Moth, I know what you seek. When I get my vengeance, the heroes will come. When they do, you will be repaid." Tikki rose in the air, magic flashing around her form, changing from the small size of a kwami, to the stature of a goddess. The now-woman smirked wickedly, looking at herself. Tall, dark and ethereally beautiful, bedecked in crimson and blood red robes, black skulls dotted across the drapey fabric, the crowned Durga stood proud, a gleaming ranseur standing a head shorter than her, tarnished steel flashing in the afternoon light.
Stepping lightly, with grace belying her size, the statuesque dark goddess moved up to her charge. Running the back of a stiletto-like nail down the sleeping girl's cheek, Durga crooned again, feeling the last remnants of that sweet, light, creation magic twine around her changed power. With a feather-light kiss to the forehead, the goddess was on the hunt, and her former avatar slept, unaware as of yet to the seal, and unbeknownst, creation magic warring with the destruction magic seeking to absorb it.