Disclaimer: Miraculous Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir belong to, uh, Thomas Astruc (?)

AN: So, I've been sucked into this fandom, I feel very royally screwed. This particular story though, is based and premised on: Project Miraculous by Mizyuuki256 over at AO3, Archive Of Our Own. As for the stories to not be confused, I'll be publishing the story under a different title.

Lady Magique
Introducing . . . Ladybug!

Marinette laughed along with Alya, pointing at the TV as both of them laughed so loudly Nora, Alya's older sister, had to come by and request for them to keep the volume down. Etta and Ella had just gone to sleep, and might wake up with all the ruckus.

"Sorry Nora," Alya replied, giggling.

"Yeah, promise to keep the volume down," Marinette added in a quiet, breathless manner. "It's just, Project Miraculous got to us."

"Again?" Nora asked with a snort. "I don't get what's so great about it."

"Yeah, that's one of the reasons why it's so great!" Alya said with another giggle, not seeing the brief flash of hurt.

"Come join us," Marinette proposed, making space on the couch for the eldest Césaire sibling to sit; after seeing that flash, she couldn't help it. "Just this one episode, and if you choose to suspend the marathon, we'll abide."

"Mar!" Alya hissed, eyes wide, just to groan when her sister stretched her hand at her.

"Deal!" Nora declared, sitting in the offered seat, hand still stretched. Ever the oldest, she liked being involved in her siblings' affair; she liked setting the example and being looked up at.

"Fine!" Alya grumbled, shaking the hand, later poking at her best friend's ribs.

"Have a little faith in me," Marinette requested softly, looking a bit hurt and down at the floor.

Of course, this only succeeded in making Alya feel like she had kicked her own puppy (they didn't have one, it still felt that way none the less) and could only groan, before sighing and hugging her bestie. Marinette turned shyly back, and at the smile Alya gave her, she returned it with enough force to light the whole of France, if not the world. Together, they went back to being absorbed by the entertainment and before any of them realized — they were quietly engrossed — five episodes had passed. It was only when the jingling of the keys resounded that Nora realized and looked at the time.

She gasped. "Go to bed you two, or I'll get in trouble," she hissed as she changed back to cable, and her favorite kickboxing channel, "now."

Alya was about to protest when Marinette pulled her to her room and closed the door, while leaving it a bit open as to not make a noise. She had been about to protest with her best friend, when she had heard the sound of the lock and bolted for it.

"Alya, Marinette, are you two up?" Marlena asked loudly, making Alya gasp.

"Sorry mom," Nora replied, "they went to bed two hours ago or so."

"Ah, behaving responsibly," Otis remarked, smiling. "I'm glad to see you're becoming a fine, responsible adult, Nora."

The two girls heard the scoff as they went to the bed, forgoing the inflatable one as it would make noise. Thankful that they had been in their jammies already, they looked at one another as they made the blanket cover them, fear in their eyes. Marinette carefully took the glasses off her friend's face and turned to place them on the night table, as quietly as possible. It was a feat that the klutz had yet managed to make everything fall apart and give them away. Before she could turn back, Alya spooned her and unable to figure out a good answer, and actually calming at the touch, Marinette laid down, closed her eyes, and proceeded to relax further into the embrace. No sooner had they settled, than the door was opened.

In any other situation, Marinette would have frozen and given herself away, with the way her breath would hitch. But, with Alya's arms securely around her, and having relaxed previously, they were capable of keeping up the façade. Marlena turned around and left the door as it had been, returning to her husband and eldest child's side.

"I'm worried about them," the woman began as she turned to Nora, "are they dating?"

Nora stared. "Right, because Marinette doesn't have this absurd crush on that pretty boy."

"Who?" Otis asked, surprised.

"That model teen?" Nora supplied, tone mocking.

"Adrien, right," Marlene said, recognition dawning from all the times the girl had mentioned him. "Well, should I worry about Alya?"

Nora snorted. "Wow, I'm glad I'm a good influence."

Her named was hissed, "Nora!"

"What?!" She defended. "Alya knows she doesn't need a man to be validated as a human. She has other interests than boys."

"Well, she does want to be a reporter," the man was heard saying.

"Besides, I'm sure the only reason why Marinette even started crushing on that pretty plain boy, is because he's in all those fashion magazines."

"Those things are bound to melt one's brains if it's all you'll look at," the woman agreed.

That was when their voices faded, and Alya groaned softly, holding Marinette tighter.

"I can't believe my mom would think I'm gay," she groused, closing her eyes tighter when her bestie turned around to face her, "just because, what, we spooned? Doesn't even make sense."

Marinette giggled. "I don't know Alya," she gave her a goofy smile, "I think you're girlfriend material." The reddish-brunette scoffed as the bluenette giggled again. "Alya, will you help me get over my idiotic teen crush, Adrien 'plain pretty boy' Agreste?"

The mock was evident and Alya decided to play along, gasping. "Oh, you'd bat for the other team, for me?"

"Imagine if I became obsessed over you?" Marinette continued. "Oh, wouldn't it be wonderful?"

Alya grinned, knowing how to respond. "Pawsitive."

Marinette had trouble controlling her urge to laugh. Cat Noir, the only character who crashed the Project Miraculous set and had never been caught, was also the only character who wore his outfit in a permanent fashion and the recurrent prankster and was close to trademarking the most awful cat puns in the world, was also a constant source of laughing material for the two. An eternal flirt, he often mocked and played around with Camembert cheese; never to eat, just to punk and pull pranks, and overall spice the show up. After more cat-astrophic puns, they fell asleep without realizing. As always, they had a good time together.

"Perhaps we shouldn't have introduced her," Alya grumbled, narrowing her eyes at Marinette, who gave her a sheepish smile in return. "I can't believe you wasted cash on that stink!" She shouted at her sister. "I'm gonna get revenge in some way, Marinette."

"I'm sorry, how could I have known this would happen?" The bluenette asked, at a complete loss, before wrinkling her nose at the memory. "Being woken up to the smell of Camembert, ugh, I can now pity those contestants."

Alya sighed as Nora came by and placed her arms over them both.

"Hey girls," she began, holding them tight until they groaned. "I heard the show is looking for contestants."

"Right!" Alya began animatedly talking about it, forgetting immediately about the unpleasant wake-up call. "You must submit designs for both, HawkMoth and Cat Noir, besides your own masked design."

"So, when are you girls going to submit yours?" Nora asked.

"Wh — what?!" Marinette gasped.

"For this new season, they're looking for talented kids between fifteen and eighteen," Nora remarked, smiling.

"Mari, this could be perfect for you!" Alya gasped.

But Marinette was already shaking her head. "No, no no no no no no no no no NO. I am a klutz enough as it is, without everyone having to watch. No, I would probably end up sending someone, Adrien's father or maybe Adrien himself to the emergency room or something —" she began hyperventilating.

Before she could spiral into a more tragic scenario, with her ending in jail or some other dramatic ending, Alya spoke. "But, Mari —"

"No Alya, I can't risk it —" the bluenette answered, paling visibly and at the border of a panic attack.

"Marinette, bébé," Nora, for the first time, took hold of the bluenette and brought her up to meet her amber eyes; Nora would never go down to meet someone's eyes, she always brought them up to her height, "what do you mean, you can't risk it?

"Sure, you're a klutz, and a scatterbrain, and sure, everyone is going to be able to see it but, Marinette," she brought them close enough so their noses touched, "you're merely risking ridicule, but you can gain fame for your designs.

"Why do you think my name in the ring is Anansi?" Nora sat Marinette down on the counter while she pointed at the name that was on her kickboxer's shorts. Moving a bit, she showed her the yellow helmet with the spider clearly emblazoned. "When I first got on that ring, I was a rookie, but I'm also different when I'm up there, I'm less distracted and more focused, cautious to an absurd degree.

"Marinette, do I look like a cautious person?" She asked, serious all the way.

The blunette hesitated, feeling like it was a trick question, her panic attack forgotten. "No . . ." she replied with uncertainty, and sighed in relief at the nod she received.

"Because I'm not," Nora answered honestly. "But, once I get this on, I am a different person.

"Just because you are a klutz, it doesn't mean that alter ego of yours, will be too," she stated strongly. "You have an opportunity behind that mask. Take it."

The strong statement was met with silence and surprise; it was a side of Nora that Alya had never seen, much less Marinette. Nora's amber eyes pierced bluebell ones, locking them in an intense, yet tender, gaze.

It felt like ages before Marinette was capable of answering, and it wasn't an answer she herself, was expecting.

"Okay."

That, was Marinette's undoing.

After she said those words, Alya became excited and said they could enter together. Without notice, it became a whirlwind.

To enter, she had to design a new HawkMoth mask. Everyone knew HawkMoth was part of Gabriel — the brand — but no one knew if he was actually the Gabriel Agreste, Adrien's dad. Previous seasons, this had also been part of the entering contest, and he always wore the mask of the winner. Cat Noir was, apparently, a rogue contestant who had gained access and caused mischief, and became part of the show after the second season, when everyone voted online to have him stay. Hence, they had gone lenient on security again, and when the show began going off the charts thanks to the addition, he was allowed to come and go as he pleased. From season three onward, they had taken to requesting for designs regarding his own suit, although he never wore the winning outfit. It would seem, since he was a rogue element in the show, that he had the ability to simply use his own. He wasn't the only one, to be honest.

During the fourth and fifth season, no one won top spot because HawkMoth didn't like any of the designs. Who could blame him? Those seasons were the worst for those who watched the show for fashion reasons, but it got more viewers since it seemed to focus more on the reality show aspect. The following seasons had better quality regarding fashion, and the audience remained steady. This was, perhaps, the reason why HawkMoth wanted to add variation, thus decided to make the latest season, Teen season.

At least, that was Marinette's speculation, which had gained popularity in Alya's PMB, Project Miraculous Blog. Season Ten of the Miraculous Project, is Teen Season; are you ready for the angst that comes along? — it was how Alya's blog promoted the next season, it was even on the banner. It intensified the hype of what was to come and more people joined her site to speculate and revel in the frey of rumors.

Meanwhile, Marinette's creative process was in a whirl. Cat Noir's suit was a breeze, and HawkMoth's mask was a rather simple, yet elegant design. Just when she's began to work on her own, did the wind seem to die down. She, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, experienced something for the first time in her whole life, regarding fashion: her first block. When she was working on her own agenda, she could take things at her own pace. Now that she had a deadline, something that was demanding a particular need, she felt at a loss. The pressure was new and disconcerting, and quite honestly, scary.

In order to gain some perspective, she began by evaluating what exactly she was going to need to be successful in the show. All of those before or well, many before, worked with opulence and pomp and flashiness, and many had been disqualified, not because of actual failure but due to failure to deliver, or because of mishaps happenings in regards to their costumes. First of, as a natural klutz, that was a recipe for disaster. Second, it had nothing to do with her style or sense for it — a limited amount of her designs were exotic or with flair.

Most were defined by being down-to-earth, comfortable wear that aimed to be practical and only the accessories were flashy; top wear, meaning hats and caps and the such, as well as belts and scarfs, these were meant to add spice and flavor to an otherwise stylish and simple design. Those, she found easy to add flair to and sometimes, when fancy would strike, would she easily draw some such design; her first was actually an Eiffel Tower inspired dress, and although it was the furthest thing from pragmatic, she fell in love with the idea and made an entire collection based on landmarks.

Thinking back on those, 'good old days', she groaned at her lack of inspiration. "Maman, I've hit the tip of my creativity, and now I'm out of ideas." She despaired from her spot on the table.

"Washed up at fifteen," her mother, Sabine, remarked in a resigned tone. She took some incense out and began to burn it before bowing her head to the wind. "Come now Marinette, say your prayers with me to your muse, wishing them well on their next step."

"Maman . . ." the girl groaned but still stood and reluctantly bowed her own head, silently mourning her inspiration.

"Now, come along with me," her mother said, and without much prompt the two females left the house. As it was usual, Sundays were opened until lunch hour, and Sabine always left to purchase groceries for the week. "Have you thought of what you want for your birthday this year?" Her mother inquired as they walked.

"Well, since the earrings you bought me it has always been something based on ladybugs," Marinette mused, smiling at the fresh air and all that Paris had to offer commuters. "I really loved the brooch last year, and although the tradition began three ago, I think maybe its time I stopped?" She was hesitant.

"Hmmm. . . ." Sabine turned to place some hair behind her ear and looked at her child's her empty lobes. "I understand your reluctance, we hadn't known you were allergic.

"But you know your maman," she began with a smile as she turned and they resumed walking.

"Knows a guy, who knows a guy," Marinette supplied a bit sadly. "Maman," she covered her ear, keeping the weird scar from view, sighing as she considered her words, "I loved the necklace and brooch, they don't hurt my skin."

"We cannot live in fear, Marinette," her mother told her seriously, before stopping, "I need you to pick something at this address."

Giving her a slip, Sabine began buying what she needed in the Chinese neighborhood. A boy appeared from seemingly out of nowhere and began helping her store things in bags he had brought. Marinette was a bit confused, since those boys were there to help shoppers and earn a pretty penny, but she would usually go with her mother, not run other errands. Sighing, for she knew the last thing she would do was disappoint her mother, she went to the address on the slip. Knocking, she waited patiently.

"Hello," an old Chinese man greeted her from behind, making her jump. "Oh, I do not believe we have met."

"Ah, hi, I uh — my name is, Marinette," she could see recognition in his eyes at her name.

"Sabine's child," he exclaimed, narrowing his eyes as he gave her an appraising look. "Let her know, it is on the house."

"Huh?" The word escaped her mouth, but she was so surprised, she could only stare dumbfounded.

He made a motion for her to follow him inside as he sidestepped her and opened the door. Waiting by it, she saw him going to an old gramophone and pull two bags from it's side before returning to her with them. The room was neat and sparsely furnished, a curious small green something lurked on the corner of her eye but before she could focus, the man was back and requesting for her full attention.

"And," he gave her a small paper bag before showing her the other, "this one, is on me, for the black cat."

"What?!" Marinette was perplexed; was she perhaps in the fabled twilight zone?

"The first one," he pointed to the bag after guiding her back out, "needs warm water to get the spots on. Cold gets them off."

"Wait," but he was already back inside. "I don't understand."

"You will, in time," and with those words, he closed his door.

"Can I at least get your name?" She asked the closed door, before sighing and deflating, a single digit in the air.

She was startled when the door opened again, stepping back in surprise. "I am, Sifu Fu, or Master Fu. Zàijiàn." He said his goodbyes before closing the door again.

Confused, she returned to her mother, placing the paper bags in her purse and noticing Sabine was done with the shopping. Before she could ask about Master Fu, Marinette was given the last bags and followed the boys and her maman back to the house. Once there, Tom, Marinette's papa, gave the boys some fresh baguettes and some old chocolate croissants, much to their glee. By then, it was time to cook lunch, and she easily forgot all about the packages.

It wasn't until she was turning in for the night that she remembered. Curious, she took a look at the first package. A pair of earrings came out, only they seemed to be magnetic and didn't pierce her skin; trying it nervously on, she smiled at herself when she looked in the mirror. She was pleasantly surprised, and although they were a sad black color, they felt comfortable, as if they belonged in her ear. Remembering Master Fu's words, she took the other one to the bathroom. Turning on the hot water, she placed her finger until it began to get warm before a drop fell on the dead black surface and turning the water off. She then witnessed something amazing and beautiful; the smooth black surface turned red, vivid and brilliant red, with five black spots in a quincunx pattern. Like ladybugs, she gasped and suddenly, her mused returned.

She knew what to call her alter ego and quickly, designed the suit. A skin fit spandex, for flexibility and ease of movement, and if she was going to stay cramped in her seat designing, it would lessen the cramps. Since she also had to remain anonymous, she decided to go with an old and much loved hairstyle that, for some reason, helped keep her inspired; twin pigtails. Still, her blue hair could be a dead giveaway, so she decided she would ask HawkMoth if he had some quick spray hair paint to perhaps turn it a shade darker or maybe just black. She would also leave her fringe, but with less hair, and maybe some black extensions to make her mand a bit longer . . . she was thankful that she could at least work some of those issues out, if she won herself a place in the project, that is.

Marinette could only hope, her heart once again on the line in her work.

Now, she was ready to face the fashion biz as Ladybug, in a hailstorm of red.

Fortune smiled upon her when she received an answer to her preliminary designs and given a month to make them.

A week on her Ladybug design, working with the spandex on a way to hide the seams, the zipper line and adding a black turtleneck to hide the zipper's location beneath. Using the same spandex, she made some tabi shoes, with red soles. Since she was used to having her purse with her, she decided to shake things up a bit with a small, movable pouch that she (and her parents) made out of a hallowed out yoyo — painting it like a ladybug of course — in case it ever fell, to be around her waist with a red, elastic string, and added secrets to its interior to keep tools of the trade safe; pins, needle, thimble, among others. The center spot in the yoyo was magnetized, just in case, and while it still worked like a yoyo, the string doubled as a measuring tape. For a mask, she used the spandex fabric and cut it out with seven black spots that were in a symmetrical design and cut out two of those so the waterlines of her eyes were colored black because of the fabric; she didn't think it would be wise to use makeup, seeing she would likely be running about. Using an elastic red band, she made sure she could adjust its length and for it to be flexible and not too tight.

Overall, it was perfect.

Cat Noir's had been relatively simple. Faux leather, with some metal for no other purpose than decoration. Zipper at the front, attached to a big, golden, kitty bell she had managed to find at a pet store; it had fallen from one of their merchandise, which had been bought without bell. She felt blessed for all those small details. His had pockets because, well, the zippers could be added without hurting the overall design. She made it so the gloves had claws on the fingertips and the boots had: a hidden wedge, silver toes, and paw-shaped treads. The belt wrapped around his waist and used the buckle to come out from the back, like a tail. The hardest part, was threading it with silver nanoyarn, and figuring out a way to add the receptors.

During that week, a cousin from China arrived with a pair of Necomimi Brainwave Cat Ears and a engineering degree. With his help and the technology from the Necomimi, he adjusted one of the reading chips to suit the tail, and managed to turn the other, into two distinct chips per ears. She was amazed with his craftsmanship and easy talent, and hugged him for his incredible and amazing help. Since the suit was skin-tight, the tail was rather simple, while the ears would require a bit more ingenuity on the sensor placing; beneath the mask. When it was time for her cousin to leave, she actually cried a bit, hugged him tightly at the airport, thanking him profoundly.

"Marinette, as long as you don't forget the basics," he had taught her a bit, enough so she could fix those in case of trouble, "you should be fine."

"Thank you for everything Zhang," she replied. "Give my great-uncle Wang a warm greeting from my part."

"Grandpa Wang wouldn't have forgiven me," he supplied with a chuckle. "When he learned that his favorite great-niece was trying to mix electronics with fashion, he called me."

"And I'm in his debt, and your," she answered, bowing her head softly, surprised when the young man pecked her temple.

"Family means," he intoned clearly, "no debts."

That being said, he said bye to Sabine and Tom, before turning to leave. Marinette waved at him, tears spilling from her eyes. Part of her wanted to learn more about her heritage, maybe she could travel over at some point. When they returned from the airport, Marinette found herself at a crossroads; her suit, done, cat suit, done, only the mask remained, and she was hit by another block. Only week and a half left.

She spent the entire week working dilligently. Unfortunately, the block remained and she currently had close to 72 hours left, and more like 50 because she needed sleep in order to function as a human. Not for the first time she wished she could hit her head but previous experience taught her such course of action usually ended in pain or dizziness, or both. She didn't have time for any of those right then.

She worked at the bakery, perfected Cat Noir's with the addition Master Fu gave her, which was a black ring big enough to be worn over the gloves. She had, with great care, taken the claw off and then placed it back on, with the ring in place; ring finger on the right hand. That last detail, was enough to make it perfect by her book. The mask was faux leather and had an elastic band like hers (but black), in order to keep it in place. The mask was the last detail that she had done with Zhang, it was were the ear receptors were hidden and therefore, the mask and ears were to be worn together. She even went as far as to add a green filter to allow for some night vision, though it was to a lesser extent and removable. With those small details added, it was complete, while hers had been perfect all along. All hers was missing, was the small details that wasn't part of the suit, but part of her Ladybug persona.

But that blasted mask, HawkMoth's, threatened her peace of mind and overall health, seeing as she was a potential hazards to herself, since she wanted to bash her head against the nearest wall.

"Maman," she groaned, sprawled very much like she had been last time this had happened. "I have, once again, lost my inspiration."

"Should I burn another two incense sticks?" Sabine asked, humor lacing her voice.

Marinette raised her head a bit, just enough to give her mother a soft glare. She huffed a bit as her mother placed her breakfast on the table before leaving to help in the bakery. Although the contest began at the start of summer, it was already, almost the end of it. Due to her interest in entering the contest, her parents allowed her to focus on that and not help around. That didn't mean that she didn't, the manual labor was a cathartic distraction and a good way to decompress from all the pressure. But, since she was simply using it as a way to procrastinate, she wasn't allowed to help anymore until she was done with what she was missing. She would finish what she had begun.

The blunette pouted to herself as she munched on her pancakes just for her face to change expression; Dieu, her mother was a saint and had the secret for the ambrosia, and used it on her pancakes. It was delicious, and a reason for Marinette to motivate herself. Sabine wasn't one to cook sweets when they lived above a bakery, so she was clearly trying to give her daughter a push. Once she was done, savoring each single bite as she always did, she washed the dish and cutlery, as well as her glass, which had been filled with orange juice (twice). Now, not one to postpone the inevitable, specially when it would only give her disappointed looks from her parents, she sighed and got ready to leave. Taking her blazer just in case, she wore her own original design, a grey shirt with a pink flower pattern, and short jeans with soft pink ballet shoes. She allowed her bangs to fall over her ears (as usual) and her hair in a bun.

"Merci, maman, papa," Marinette said, giving her 'rents a kiss to the cheek.

"De rien," Sabine replied with a smile as she received her kiss before returning it.

"Pas de problème," Tom answered, kissing his daughter's temple. "Don't be out late, okay?"

"Promise papa," she replied with a tender smile.

"No earrings?" Her mother questioned softly, but was pleasantly surprised when the girl pulled her bangs back while shyly showing the black studs. "Ah, show them ma fille, it'll help."

Smiling at her mother nervously, she decided to pull both her bangs behind her ears before leaving. Once out, she had to make a conscious effort of not undoing it and keeping her ears exposed. Walking around, she first stopped by her secret garden; it was simply a very nice, not too green, space with a beautiful view of the Eiffel Tower. She had a sketchpad at hand, and while it helped her come up with new and crazy ideas, it didn't quite help her with her current problem. Sighing, she decided she should go elsewhere for inspiration. At first, she just walked without purpose or destination until, that is, she realized where her feet were taking her. It would probably be weird, but she was already there.

After standing there for five whole minutes without moving, as the last time she had been there, she was startled and jumped at the voice behind her.

"Ah, Sabine's girl," Master Fu looked pleased to see her, for some reason. "You've been standing there for more than a few minutes already," he began, motioning to the door, "why didn't you knock or ring the bell?"

"Oh, uh — em, Master Fu," she bowed in greeting, "sorry — sorry. I just, don't really know . . . what I'm, uh — doing?" She gave him a confused and nervous smile. "Oh no, wait! I mean, I — I came to say thank you."

"I see you're wearing the earrings," he said conversationally as he opened the door to his place, "come on in, Marinette, and have a seat."

She went in, closing the door timidly behind her. Looking after him, she noticed he was in the kitchen, so she nervously decided to simply sit. It was a traditional small table, in the west it would be called a coffee table, but in the east, it was for dinning. Sitting over a cushion, on her knees, she tried relaxing, but the posture was one that kept her back straight. Before she could start questioning herself, he arrived with some tea. With care, he served her and gratefully, she picked the cup and took a sip. Both, the aroma and taste, were soothing, the temperature just right. When she opened her eyes again, she noticed the man had left, and as she looked around, she found him returning with a book.

"It has been a long time, since you visited," he murmured, offering her the book. "Last time, you sought more ideas than the Chinese Zodiac for your plushie collection. I love them dearly, by the way."

Marinette was at a loss, and when she looked at the book she gasped. She suddenly remembered, she had been working on her first collection, the plushie collection. Besides the 12 Chinese Zodiac, she had also made Tikki, the impersonation of creation and good luck, Plagg, destruction and bad luck, as the core; they were the yin and yang that held everything in a perfect balance. Surrounding the center, were five other elements that she had added for fun. Nooroo, as the representation of transmission, a butterfly or a moth, that could go anywhere and were actually found everywhere, the ones which can communicate better and more naturally. Wayzz, the turtle of protection, because it reminded her of the man before her. Trixx, the mischievous embodiment of illusion, traditional to the Japanese folklore legend of the Kitsune with nine tails. And the other two, were done for fun, not for a particular reason; Pollen, the Queen Bee, and Duusu, the Peacock Beauty.

Before she could read what was written, to remember her inspiration source, a sound distracted her. Master Fu had opened a closet and there, were sixteen mini plushies. Forgetting the book, she stood and went there, gasping as each brought her memories. 12 Chinese zodiac representatives, and four of the flower petals, the yin yang minis still in her possession. Only the turtle was missing, and she saw it on the man's shirt pocket. It warmed her heart.

To realize it all began with a pen pal exchange, the misfortune of the other and Marinette's balancing fortune. . . . She was a Ladybug, they were a black cat, but they still became friends. Her pen pal, they had a single friend their age and their own mother, while Marinette had her parents. What she didn't know, was that to everyone in her class, she had to belong to everyone; the way she saw it, she was too shy to connect with others. It was the reason why she had made Nooroo. Reason why she treasured her friendship with Alya, when they met at thirteen.

"So, are you any closer to figuring out what you came looking for?" Master Fu inquired, snapping her from her memories. At her big, confused, bluebell eyes, he smiled. "You had been looking for a way to connect with your heritage, and was walking all over the neighborhood; mind you, it isn't a bad one, but it is never a good idea for a child to walk alone."

"You found me when a stranger approached," she remembered with a gasp.

"Indeed, and we talked a lot about everything," he motioned to the book, "and yet, nothing."

She approached the Nooroo plushie, held it close. It felt like reuniting with an old friend. "You were the one who taught me the knitting trick."

"You were the one who gave me your first collection," he supplied, looking at the plushies. "Or, well, the miniature versions."

Marinette giggled. "I only ever got Tikki and Plagg up to plushie level," she whispered, petting Nooroo, "I still sleep with her."

"I am sure your friend treasures him as well," he replied in kind, smile in place. "You, however, inspired me too."

Hesitating briefly, she decided to take Nooroo along, and sat back on her previous seat, sipping what she assumed would be cold tea, but was still warm against all odds. She didn't have to wait long though; Master Fu returned with a beautifully carved, octagonal box. Opening the lid, he showed her a five-colored petal flower, in the center a yin yang circle. On each petal, were delicate trinkets; orange, an orange with white tip, tail pendant; yellow, a yellow hair comb with a bee at the top; green, a green turtle shell inspired bracelet; blue, a peacock tail hair brooch; the last one was purple, a butterfly cloth pin, a very elegant brooch with four delicate wings and at the center, what could be taken as a rhombus amethyst.

"They are beautiful," she gasped, and he smiled.

"You inspired them, Marinette," he stated simply, before taking the butterfly brooch and giving it to her. She could only stare back with wide eyes. "I can see that Nooroo is needed for your latest inspiration, so consider this another gift."

She smiled sweetly at him, and surprised him with a hug. "I promise to not forget this place and return often," she swore.

He chuckled softly. "You will only find this place when you need it," he cautioned her.

Marinette stopped the hug to look at the man. Seeing his seriousness despite his smile, her mouth turned dry.

"Then I'll make sure I need to see you often," she said clearly.

Master Fu smiled widely at that. "I'll take that as a promise."

Back at her place, Marinette returned with one mini plushie, one exquisite and elegant brooch, and the right material for the mask. The next day, her parents found her asleep in the kitchen table, and one beautiful mask done. It was clearly meant to cover the majority of the face and neck, the color of liquid silver. It would allow for an easier show of emotion, and had an outline of the Gabriel Brand butterfly logo over it. The fabric was breathable and comfortable, with stretching capabilities. Once she was done, she began wondering if she should do one such mask for her character, but sadly, it was too late to actually try to do it.

Perhaps, that was for the best.

"You mean, I must take on this Alya girl?" Gabriel scoffed. "This is meant to be a fashion show, not just reality TV!"

"Monsieur Agreste," Nathalie, his ever faithful assistant, began, understanding but needing him to see further; why hadn't she gotten Emilie to do this one? Right, she and Adrien were having a field day at the science museum. "Please, consider it a boon."

"How is it a boon, if she doesn't know anything about fashion!?" He cried in exasperation.

"She does, sir," at his dubious look, she sighed and offered him her tablet; at his surprised look, she continued. "She runs the Project Miraculous blog. She researches the information and offers it to the public, teaching others about terms that only designers are privy to, making it accessible."

He couldn't deny that, even he knew how useful the PMB was for publicity; hell, he had even made anonymous contributions so the site wouldn't shut. Their glossary was almost as complete as a fashion design book, and he had an inkling that it was mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng who made that possible.

"She could actually be the one who works with us from within," Nathalie said, wincing a bit as she had no idea how to truly sell Emilie's. She did slide to a following screen. "Madame Emillie suggests this approach."

"Have you read this, Nathalie?" He inquired, going over it in detail, seeing as it came from his wife.

"Pardon, Monsieur Agreste," she whispered, "I confess I do not fully understand the idea."

"It's basically having one of them trying to unmask them all," Emilie said as she entered, Adrien at her side still excited about all the science. "We had fun."

"Clearly," Gabrielle muttered, eyeing his son as he talked a mile a minute, "perhaps, too much fun.

"I approve of the idea," he stated loudly and clearly.

Adrien stopped, looked around, and gave his father a chagrin expression. "Sorry father."

"Not to worry son," he replied with a sigh; those two were uncontrollable. "However, tomorrow is back with diligence."

"Yes sir!" Adrien said with strength.

"I'll schedule our next outing for two weeks," Emilie told her son with a wink.

"Two weeks?!" Both Agreste males cried in unison, the oldest in outrage while the youngest in excitement.

"You must do well in your tests, else no more outings," Emilie conditioned severely with a frown, before smiling widely, "I'm sure you'll do fabulous."

"Oh dad, is this for real?" Adrien asked his father, knowing he could undo any of his mother's promise.

"Fine, but you must do exceedingly well in your tests," Gabriel said sharply, displeasure evident, and while his son went on with joy, he grumbling enjoyed the sound. "Nathalie, schedule a meeting with mademoiselle Césaire and her parents."

"If her older sister wishes to come along . . ?" Nathalie inquired softly.

Gabriel debated his answer as he watched his son and wife leave his office. After some careful consideration, he decided to allow it. "Fine, although her parents should be more than enough, and it cannot be only the sisters, either parent is fine as long as one of them is present."

"Yes, Monsieur Agreste." That said, Nathalie left the office as well.

Gabriel could only sigh, but agreed that it was a good exchange. The Dupain-Cheng couple didn't want their child alone in what's going to be, a definite hostile environment. If Marinette had at least one good friend with her, they would allow her to participate in the cutthroat show. The future designer was more than worth the dead weight, specially if they could employ her inquisitive mind and be capable of pushing it in the right direction.

Not only were Marinette's designs exquisite and rather simple, but when given shape, they were elegant. He had already given the ridiculous cat suit to Emilie, who was the only one who know who Cat Noir was, but he had already donned the mask done for HawkMoth. The zipper was cleverly hidden by a mechanism he already wanted to patent for exclusive use in his brand, and a simple collar could hide it. He didn't like how his expressions were no longer hard to make, but he could feel how it was a second skin, and didn't irritate it or felt itchy. He was certain that with this on, he would be able to go through the show without perspiring.

Emilie came in right then, and smiled at the look. "It is everything you've envisioned, isn't it?"

"It is more, Mon Amours," he whispered, showing her the brooch; she gasped. "She even gave me the name and address of the individual who crafted this, including her ladybug earrings and some other ring."

"You're going to look for him, aren't you?"

"As if you wouldn't," he retorted with a grin.

"Oh no, I would."

"Oh yeah?"

"M hmmm. I would leave them for you."

"Then I'll just have to get to him first."

They kissed.

"And the winner of this season's entries," the host, Alec Cataldi, began announcing. "Designing HawkMoth's current mask," Gabriel came out as HawkMoth, wearing the brooch and earning gasps and looks, since it wasn't a Gabriel Brand accessory, but he didn't mind, "as well as, and this is a first time occurrence in the Project Miraculous show, Cat Noir's brand new suit!"

Cat Noir fell from the beams overhead, much to Gabriel annoyance. Several body guards began chasing the boy, who performed some martial arts Kung Fu moves with his classic baton - slash - bō staff, evading capture, as well as showing the versatility of the suit. Even Gabriel could admit that it was a work of art, despite the fact that the wearer wasn't treating it with it's due respect. If it had been Adrien, he would have behaved, but this kid with longer and messier hair, couldn't be Adrien. Who knew what was the real eye color behind those ridiculous contact lenses.

Adrien, who was actually Cat Noir, reveled in the freedom of the mask; he could do every single outrageous thing he wanted, that his father would never figure out and he would never be held responsible for it. He was also surprised and happy with his current leather suit; he was also glad that his mother knew of a shampoo that made his hair puffier, which meant he could hide it's length with volume. Oh, and the ears and the tail, those were a dream come true. He could feel the twitches and slight movements, and he could swear they amplified sound for his benefit. Or maybe it was just his wishful thinking. Either way, just as he showed the guards his tail, this one twitched and moved as well, standing on end when he tensed at the feeling of one of them trying to jump him. He evaded. Ha! The suit was amazing! Even the ring, which held nothing fancy, made him feel as though it was all his.

"For the tenth season of Project Miraculous," everyone turned as Alec presented the last contestant, "the teen season, as everyone likes to call it!

"Introducing . . ." the sound of the drum rolls was heard, "Ladybug!"

AN: I know! I know! This thing is double the length of a usual chapter that I release, it's just a little below 7k words! Believe me, I am as surprised. I didn't expect it to be this long, honestly, and some details surprised even me. Had to add a bit of the Miraculous lore because, well, it's part of the show, right?

Anyway, this might be what I start updating from hence forth, nothing is set in stone yet. Don't hang me!

Please, please let me know your thoughts in a review, and to those who will fav the story even if it just begun: my eternal gratitude!