Marinette, usually a girl to be late due to her secret Ladybug activities, had for once come to school just on time, and not just on time but early. As she opened the door to the class, the teacher complimented her on her punctuality and timing, slightly mocking due to Marinette's record of being late. Marinette flashed an awkward smile, but was thankful the snarky comment had been made without the judgemental glare of Chloe, or even worse: The dreamy gaze of Adrien. No, it was only her and the teacher currently, said teacher being Miss Bustier, for it was English Literature this morning. Miss Bustier was sorting out her desk, gliding her fingers over files and biting the bottom of her lip, only looking satisfied when she found the right file and drew it out, opening it also.
"I'm glad you're on time today, Marinette. I believe a person of your profession will enjoy today's lesson." She smiled at the brunette, who sat up straight and beamed at her teacher.
"Really Miss? What is it we'll be studying?" Marinette inquired, excitement filling her. If this truly was a topic she'd enjoy, she secretly hoped that no catastrophe occurred today, for that'd require her to leave the lesson and fix it.
"Well you see, Marinette, we have a new assistant teacher with us. Marinette, this is Axel Tibias, but you must refer to him as Mr Tibias." Marinette turned her head to the direction Miss Bustier was looking and was surprised to see a man wearing a grey suit and tie standing at the back, one she had failed to note when entering the class. He was rather tall and had a stocky, yet stream line build, but Marinette's neck hurt from craning her head around and turned it back to face the teacher. As if reading this, the man came to the front of the class room, a warm smile upon his face. His hair was a subtle brown, more rusted than full on mud coloured, as if the locks could not decide which way they wanted to be coloured. It was an awkward colour, but Mr Tibias made it work with his face. He possessed a narrow jaw-line and a small mouth, a mouth that would look peculiar if he grinned but handsome if he simply curled his lips into a small smile. He seemed to know this, for his warm smile was nothing too forced; a simple curl of the mouth, showing no teeth. He excelled in height, being as tall (if not taller) than Marinette's father! However, his waste was not as stocky as her father's clearly more of a top heavy man. The man's eyes were what really caught Marinette's interest, for they were a light grey, on the border of being silver which would blend in well with the whites of his eyes and matched his suit. His eyes were not too narrow and not too wide, having the perfect balance, but also making it hard to judge whether he was glaring or squinting. With the small smile and piercing eyes, that seemingly warm smile was looking a lot different now, Marilyn thought. However, she concluded to not judge the man, for he couldn't help it if his natural gaze could be interpreted as a steely glare. Closing his said eyes, Mr Tibias raised a hand to his chest and bowed slightly. With his judgemental eyes closed, Marinette's uneasiness left her, for now he just seemed like a respectable gentlemen.
"It's a pleasure, Miss Dupain-cheng:" he rose and opened his eyes, sending instant shivers down the brunette's spine "I have heard a lot about you from Miss Bustier and I have also had the pleasure of seeing your designs and work; truly works of art; I am truly a fan of yours." He chuckled slightly, earning him a nervous blush from Marinette at the compliments.
Marinette noticed he possessed an odd accent, but could not put it to its respected country as as he was speaking fluent French otherwise. She decided to let it go, his origins not really important to Marinette, now that she thought about it.
"O-oh sir, thank you so much. I'm glad you like them." She awkwardly brushed a strand of black hair from her face and smiled nervously.
"Mr Tibias is going to be running today's lesson on Creative Writing, you see. I'll explain why once everyone is in." Miss Bustier said, nodding to Mr Tibias and giving him the signal to seat himself beside the teacher's desk. He obliged, widening his eyes slightly and smiling at Marinette, making his sinister grin less nerve inducing, something Marinette appreciated.
Miss Bustier opened the door and almost instantly a flood of students came in, each taking their respected seats. Among them were (of course) Alya, Nino, Adrien and, ugh, Chloe. As Adrien walked passed Marinette, he flashed his polite smile and raised his hand in silent greeting. In response, Marinette stumbled on her actions and waved in a rather awkward, erratic manner, something she instantly regretted, shakily lowering her hand and staring fixated ahead, a bead of sweat slithering down her forehead. Adrien simply smiled charmingly, laughing slightly but not in a cruel way, seemingly ignoring her nervous movements like he always did. She glanced to her side where Alya was, who brow raised with an amused smirk upon her face. Marinette pouted and shoved at Alya's face, to which both giggled.
"Settle down now class, settle down." Said Miss Bustier, rapping her hand upon the desk to get their undivided attention.
"Now, we have a new member in staff today and I would like use this time to formally introduce him. Students, this is Mr Tibias." Mr Tibias stood on cue, again closing his eyes and bowing like he had done with Marinette earlier.
"It's a pleasure to be acquainted with you all." He rose "I cannot wait to get started." He beamed.
"Mr Tibias is here on work experience, having just completed his College course in Creative Writing, Drama, Sports and English. He has come to France all the way from England to assist me. Aren't I lucky?" The teacher chuckled, earning her a combined laugh from the students and a few grunts (which were probably laughter) from Mr Tibias. Chloe, clearly not amused, spoke up.
"So you're like… what a student teaching us or something?" She raised a brow at Mr Tibias, to which he replied "My student days are over I'm afraid, Miss Bourgeois, but you are right in assuming I only recently graduated college; I'm only eighteen." Chloe, going to make a snide comment about a student teaching them, was silenced by being titled as Miss Bourgeois, Mr Tibias clearly having chuffed her with that title. Marinette giggled slightly under her hand at Mr Tibias, for she could tell she had only said that to Chloe to simply manipulate her into shutting up. She also grew more impressed by Mr Tibias, for this man had such a confident air to him; a form of maturity she wished to possess one day. Acting, talking and living as an adult yet he was only two years above them in age, still considered a child (or at the very least a teenager) by conventional society. Marinette hoped she could be seen in that way one day. In way she was seen in that way, but ladybug and class rep didn't count to her.
"Now, with introductions out of the way, I think I'll let Mr Tibias take over: If you would, sir." She gestured to him with a hand and curt nod, sitting down at her desk and getting on with some markings it appeared. Mr Tibias stood and cleared his throat.
"Writing is the basis of literature; that much is known, but some would argue it's harder to write something than it is to actually study it. However, no matter how hard it is it's argued that anyone can write, and that is a belief I agree with profusely. However, can everyone write well? The answer, unfortunately, is no." He bluntly said with an exaggerated face, netting him a collective laugh from the students.
"Today we are going to find out said gifted individuals. Allow me to start you all off:" He turned to the white board and proceeded to write three opening sentences "Using these three scenarios, finish the story. You can write whatever you want and how much you want." The students collectively mumbled between each other, some looking forward to the task but others seeming anxious. One such girl was Juleka Couffaine, clearly one of the nervous people not looking forward to Mr Tibias reading out their work. Shrinking into her seat, she practically shrivelled up as the paper was placed in front of her. Breathing rapidly (yet silently at the same time), she gripped her pen and started to write in her notepad, not needing the paper supplied for she did the occasional writing for pleasure, but hated it being read by others.
Writing was harder than Marinette had thought. She had chosen to have her story start with the second sentence, which read as such: The girl's breath was fast and unwavering, but not as vigorous as the beating of her heart. While she had opted to do this sentence to possibly do something horror related, she found herself struggling on what to actually include in the story which could make the audience feel fear. As if reading the expression on Marinette's face, Mr Tibias knelt down to insect her work so far. Marinette went ridged, clearly not comfortable with Mr Tibias and his sturdy gaze being inches from her and scanning over what she had written thus far.
"I see you haven't written much. Is there a problem, Marinette?" His voice displayed curiosity rather than anger, which helped the brunette's nerves considerably "It's just I… I don't know how to write horror. In movies it's good because of the atmosphere and tension that gets built up and jump scares." Marinette explained, to which Mr Tibias chuckled at.
"Ah, I see… Yes this is a common thing people tend to have trouble with when writing horror:" He assured her "You see, with writing you can't particularly scare the reader in the traditional sense; you need to make them see though, regardless. As a writer of horror you must use language and description to paint this image of fear in the reader's mind. A horror novelist aims to disturb, rather than make the audience jump and they do this by focusing on hat humanity fears and that makes it influence this terrifying force. For example, a book about a werewolf could but extra detail into say, a transformation scene, to disturb the audience with intense, graphic description, or maybe must emphasise on the werewolf's spindly, thin and gnarled legs to trigger the primal fear of spiders in some. Do you understand where I'm coming from?" Marinette pondered on these words and came to a realisation "I think I understand… Thank you Mr Tibias!" She smiled and started writing once more.
Once the hour had passed, Mr Tibias sauntered around the class, collecting papers while simultaneously looking at the word length. He gave Chloe a sideways glare because she had simply written two sentences, to which she ignored, tapping away on her phone. He returned to his desk and sat down, looking over the class who patiently awaited their next instructions.
"You may talk amongst yourselves while I mark these and the winner shall get a reward." He purred and settled down to mark the work.
Alya turned to Marinette "So girl, what did you write about?" Marinette flushed and fiddled with her hair "I wrote about a damsel in distress being saved by a shining knight. I used description to really portray how gross and revolting the ogre that had captured the girl was." Alya chuckled and looked at her best friend with amusement. "Did this damsel happen to have black hair and the Knight flowing, radiant and conditioned locks of gold?" She dramatized her words, deepening her voice to really tease Marinette, who hid her face in her hands from embarrassment.
"N-no—shut up." She hissed through her fingers, Alya practically crying of laughter. Marinette squinted at her friend and growled "Well, what did you write about?!" She spat venomously, but her smirk gave her fake anger away. Alya posed in her seat, clearly having no shame in her piece "I wrote a piece where a news reporter is caught in a sticky situation that could mean life or death, having gone too deep into her scoop and now at the mercy of a dangerous man, with no help in sight or coming any time soon." Marinette deflated "Damn that's… actually not bad." Alya grinned, pushing out her chest.
"Aha, I know! Face it Mari, I have got this in the bag." As if on cue, Mr Tibias stood.
"I have come to a conclusion: First I will speak of honourable mentions; the first one I'd like to congratulate is Mr Agreste, who wrote a spectacular, emotional short piece about an old man's last thoughts before death, and Alya's thriller about a news reporter caught between a rock and a hard place, a story which filled me with absolute tension for the main character." Alya elbowed Marinette, a shit-eating grin painted upon her face. Marinette grumbled in exasperation, leaning her cheek on her hand, clearly not amused by Alya's bragging.
"However, there was one definitive winner, and the prize goes to Juleka Couffaine and her gripping and versatile piece of a boy's experience with his dog, the dog a kind of father figure to the lad as the boy's real father died. It was an emotional, friendly piece that explained itself very well and summed up the entire story in no more than two-thousand words. However, it also had the perfect blend on tension, emotion and morals, but it didn't shuffle away from some comedic moments, hence why I say it's a versatile piece with a broad audience. Miss Couffaine you truly have a creative gift, having written something so short yet so interesting and different. You deserve this!" He beamed at her, to which she flushed red and smiled slightly, accepting her prize (which was a very large bar of chocolate). Chloe snorted and plugged her earphones in, bobbing her head to what was no doubt some form of music. Marinette, although slightly sad that her piece hadn't been selected as the top tree, was still happy for Adrien, Alya and, most of all, Juleka, who she hadn't known had such a creative mind. Perhaps she should talk to Juleka about the creative arts, writing up there in terms of creativity with design and art, topics Marinette excelled in. This class had made her realise she had a lot in common with the Goth and to that she was thankful.
"Thank you all for participating in my lesson today. Class dismissed." He finished and walked to the door, holding it open for the students, most politely telling him 'thank you' as they left.
Marinette rounded the corner, when suddenly the piercing, ear bleeding voice of Chloe was heard.
"You honestly think you will be a writer? Hah, that's pathetic! Just because some boring English retard gives you candy you think you're suddenly special? Don't make me laugh!" The sound of ripping was heard, followed by sobbing. Marinette skidded around, snarling at Chloe who had just ripped Juleka's story in half, laughing as she ran away sobbing. Marinette advanced at the blond, pointing a finger at Chloe and simultaneously pushing her up against the wall.
"You're a horrible bitch, you know that, right?!" Marinette hissed through her teeth, but Chloe only gave her a smirk, pushing her away.
"Don't touch me, Marinette, or I'll file you for assault to the principle, or worse my daddy. You wouldn't wany my daddy to ruin your shitty families bakery, hmm?" Marinnete seethed on the spot, but did nothing else, Chloe's threat hitting a home run. "That's what I thought. Do me a favour and go sulk in the shadows, you waste of my time." She held her hand to Marinette's face, walking away with a cocky stride. Marinette's temple creased and contorted with rage, but she soon calmed down. She worriedly looked to where Juleka had fled and exhaled "I hope she's alright."
The skylight opened, allowing an ominous blue light to flood into the room and fill the darkness. Blue and white butterflies took wing, fluttering about the purple clothed man standing in the centre with a cane.
"Ah, let down by a spiteful brat into thinking they are worthless and talentless: The perfect prologue for a story involving the villain's victory! I have used this one before; it seems, but no matter." Hawkmoth allowed an Akuma to flutter onto his hand, to which he clasped his other hand around it, accumulating dark energy and infusing it with the Akuma, evilising it and making it go black and purple.
"Fly away my little Akuma, and evilise her!"
Juleka was on the side of the road, mascara running down her face, the makeup turning her pale skin below her eyes blackened and smudged. She sniffed horribly, wiping her delicate hand shakily over her eyes and face, something which didn't help her overall appearance. She gripped her pen and notebook harshly, fists balled and teeth gritted, her body shaking with each wheeze and sob. It was then that the Akuma fluttered over and merged with her pen. Juleka raised her head, tears gone and saddened ace replaced by a look of primal anger, the mark of Hawkmoth appearing and the voice of the man vibrating in her mind.
"Mary Sue, I am Hawkmoth. You remember me, don't you? I'm giving you a second chance to seek revenge on those who have wronged you and you can truly show your masterpieces to the world. I have given you the power to make anything you write about in that notebook come to life so you can succeed in your goal, but in return you must help my goal succeed also and fetch me Ladybug and Chat Noir's Miraculous. Do you understand me, Mary Sue~?" He purred into her ear, and Juleka, now Mary Sue, grinned.
"It shall be done, Hawkmoth." She smirked, darkness bubbling from her feet and spreading up to completely coat her.