Author's note: Hi guys! This is a short collection of drips and drabbles set in the context of Ancient Egypt, inspired by a character design by Ferisae who is an amazing graphic designer, and with the artist's permission I've decided to write this. Please check out their work on: /dAFerisae

I may of come up with some names and background for this but the full credits go to Jeremy Zag, Ferisae and the rest of the Miraculous team. Without them none of this would have been possible.

Under the guidance of their mentor (the head royal shaman of the court) Master Ozo, the vigilante duo work to fight crime at night while still trying to live their daily lives underneath the radar of their king.

Previously, Master Ozo has been sentenced to death for 'high-treason' against the Pharaoh. Despite Kpherera's attempts to save her mentor, the shaman gagged and sent off a cliff into the Nile River. As Baq, Kpherera blames herself for being unable to save the shaman. Despite trying to process the loss of their master, Qut comforts his partner as they watch the sunset over the bleak desert horizon. (See previous chapter)

This drabble picks up during a battle between the Pharaoh and the duo that thwart him mid performing a sacrificial ritual where he hopes to bring back his dead wife Nefertiti (mentioned in Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir Season 1 Episode 3: The Pharaoh).

Warning: Death occurs

Stay with me

"Cataclysm!"

Baq saw it all happen in slow motion. Qut launched himself forwards, his hand taking on the brunt of the blast that should of hit her.

"No!" she felt herself scream as she reached out for him.

The explosion tore through his suit, stretching across his arm into his ribcage. Their eyes met; pale amber on brown as he fell.

She sprang forward, catching him before he could hit the mosaicked floor. Still holding him close, the super-heroine hurled her yoyo, sending her father's sceptre flying over the balcony, watching with detached emotion as the pharaoh flung himself after it.

It was anger alone that kept her going.

"Baq …"

His ring flickered.

No, no, no, no, no.

Kheprera's heart went into overdrive as she thrust her yoyo, using all of her remaining strength to keep him close. They flew out of the throne room, collapsing in the corridor right outside of her bedroom quarters.

"Hang in there, Qut," she stammered, "Just stay with me."

She felt her earrings beep again. She ignored it, heaving open the wooden door, before she pulled her partner inside.

She propped him against her bed, "Qut, look at me," she said. Her voice was eerily calm, even to her.

Beep.

She shut her eyes as green light filled her room.

Kheprera blinked. She recognised him from the streets. He was the one who had helped her escape from the crowd when her mother had died.

Stepmother, she corrected herself.

He looked no more than eighteen-years-old – the same age as her. Her voice caught in her throat.

The boy coughed again.

"Qut," she stammered, unable to hide the tremble in her voice as she cupped his face.

He murmured something – her name maybe?

"This isn't how I planned to reveal my identity to you Princess," he grunted.

Princess.

He didn't even flinch when her last spot blinked off and she de-transformed before him.

He knew who she was. He opened his eyes, hazy brown eyes glazed over with pain as he clutched his side. Blood seeped through his tunic.

How he still managed to smile was beyond her.

"I never did manage to catch your name before," she replied, her voice still shaking as she pressed the fabric of her expensive dress against his chest, trying in vain to stem the bleeding.

There was so much blood.

"Amun," he answered with a wince, his ebony skin tinged green as he struggled to sit up.

She didn't let him.

"You knew," she managed to stutter, "You knew who I was."

It wasn't a question.

The teenager nodded, "My dad used to be one of your royal bodyguards," his voice was weak as he coughed again. It sounded like he was choking on his words as he smiled at her, brushing a stray beaded strand of her hair behind her ear with his fingers.

"After the queen died I felt obliged to keep an eye on you," he continued.

"Is that how long you've known for?" she asked.

He shrugged, "Doesn't matter," he said, glancing to the side where Plagg was watching, trembling as he clung to Kheprera's kwami.

They both knew what was happening.

It's okay, he mouthed in their direction.

Tears were now freely flowing down her cheeks.

Her hands were already covered in blood. His blood.

No matter what she did it kept flowing – kept leaking, pooling around them like water.

"This is all my fault," she murmured, crying now as she held him close, "I'm sorry Amun, I'm so sorry for everything. For not believing you, for putting you in danger, I'm so, so sorry …"

"Hey," the boy replied, silencing her with a shaky finger, "Stop blaming yourself. None of this was your fault – it was never your fault, do you hear me? Never, your, fault." He paused, gasping for air.

"Amun … Amun I love you." She had to say it for him to hear – even if it was just once.

Amun couldn't begin to describe how good it felt to hear her say that. Even when he was bleeding out on her marble floor, hearing her say those four words made his heart flutter.

Kheprera's face seemed to block out the rest of the world. Her eyes were bloodshot, the delicate wings of her black eyeliner running down her face in streams of inky tears.

Never had she looked so beautiful.

She cupped his face in her hand, tracing his lips gingerly before she filled the space between them with her own. He gasped slightly, enjoying the feeling of her soft lips against his.

She was warm.

She broke away, her forehead still pressed against his. Amun took another breath, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfumed skin.

"Please don't leave me," she whispered, the rawness of her sobs tugging at his heart as she clung to him, "I can't do this without you."

The world was beginning to blur around him, pain jutting through his chest so sharply that he bit down a yelp. He held her tighter, ignoring the stabbing pain in his gut as he did so, rubbing her back as if it was her that had been hit.

"Yes you can," he replied, "You can do this Princess, promise me you'll keep fighting."

She nodded.

He forced himself to keep breathing. Keep holding on. She was shaking, her fingers clutching his bloodied tunic, desperately trying to keep him alive.

She couldn't heal him.

Couldn't reverse the damage.

Kheprera. Couldn't. Save. Him.

"I love you," she repeated.

He grinned, his toothy smile as bright as the first day they'd met.

"Love …"

He didn't say anything after that. His eyes were blank; his cattish smile permanently etched into his face as his arms went limp.

She didn't need to feel his heart to know that it had stopped beating.