Hi! This is my first upload and the first fanfiction I've really taken writing seriously, so I'm still pretty new to the scene.

A few things to clarify:

This pretty much takes place after season 3, so there are some spoilers. I have changed some little details though.

In this story, Master Fu has his memories and is still the guardian of the Miraculous. I'm gonna need him for the story, so I'm keeping him the way he was before he passed the guardianship to Marinette. There are also some other tiny details of the show I'm tweaking, but nothing serious. I'm trying to make everyone as in-character as possible, while also having the story be a much darker theme than the show.

TRIGGER WARNING: death and grieving. I'll update any other TWs that will apply as I post the chapters.

Enjoy!


The Dissolved - Prologue

"And you're positive you've thought this through, sir?"

Nathalie Sancoeur awaited her boss's answer as Hawk Moth gazed up through the round, towering window that always seemed to stare back. Subtly glowing white butterflies surrounded nearly every inch of the small, dark room, and Nathalie turned her head slightly to avoid one that had fluttered too close to her face for comfort.

"I've made up my mind, Nathalie," Hawk Moth replied. She could only see his jaw move up and down as he spoke, the dim afternoon light of the semi-cloudy sky reflecting a soft, matte glow against his form-fitting mask.

"Please, reconsider. And use me instead," Nathalie requested, pressing her hand against her chest. "It's far too dangerous to risk such an unstable move on you."

"Absolutely not. We've already talked about this." Hawk Moth turned to face her, eyes burning with sternness. "I've put you in jeapordy far too many times. I won't sacrifice your life for my own intentions. This could very well be the end of you."

"But what about you, sir?" Nathalie retorted, somehow managing to maintain her solemn demeanor. "Everything you've done to achieve up to this point would be for nothing. This plan you've worked so hard to make relies solely on you. My life is of much less importance."

"She's right!" came a nervous squeak. Nathalie felt something shift inside her suit top.

Out came the bright blue kwami, her colorful tail feathers fanning out behind her as she twirled in the air to Nathalie's side. Duusu eyed Hawkmoth with dismay, clutching her hands together.

"It's not safe!" she warned. "Nothing like this has ever been attempted before…"

"Quiet, Dusuu," Hawk Moth hissed, shooting a glare that caused the kwami to cower with a shocked gasp and hide behind Nathalie. He continued, his annoyed expression quickly fading. "On the contrary, Nathalie. You have a very important role." He extended his gloved hand, letting one of the delicate, pure white butterflies land gracefully into his palm as they naturally did. From her angle, the window framed around him perfectly, his dark form contrasting with the gentle light that dulled compared to the glimmer of the butterflies. "If something happens to me, you're the one I trust to act accordingly. Everything I've accomplished, I put in your hands."

"Sir, you can't-"

"Enough, Nathalie," Hawk Moth snapped, his open hand forming a tense cage around the soon-to-be akuma. "I will not be changing my decision. I've asigned to you your role, and it's your duty to follow it. Or is my confidence in you wasted on a coward who can't take orders?"

Nathalie surrendered, her face struggling to retain its professionalism. "No, sir," she replied in a forcefully monotone voice. "Forgive me."

Hawk Moth was frozen in his intense glare, until he sighed and relaxed his hand. "No, forgive me." He shook his head just slightly. "I just…need to ensure that this is done correctly. We don't have much time left."

"I understand," Nathalie told him what he wanted to hear, whether he believed she meant it or not.

Hawk Moth straightened his posture a bit, lifting his chin and preparing himself. "Good," he said, his voice quiet and low. "Are you ready?"

Nathalie nodded, tightening the fists she wasn't aware she was even making.

"You should wait outside," he advised, quickly studying the room. "I'm not sure what will happen."

"That's…p-probably a good idea…" Duusu stammered, clinging tightly to the collar of Nathalie's shirt.

"I won't leave you." Nathalie ignored her. The assistant's stubbornness wasn't completely gone. She was prepared for him to put her in her place again. She didn't care. He was silent for a moment, but to her surprise, he didn't argue.

"Very well." He closed his eyes, containing his impatience. "But keep your distance."

Duusu yelped and darted back into her current holder's jacket. Nathalie felt the kwami quiver against her side as she settled into the corner of the room, nearly disappearing in the darkness out of reach of the window's light. Hawk Moth looked to the shining insect still resting contently in his hand. After one more quick glance at his assistant, he sheltered the butterfly with his other hand, letting the deep violet magic seep through his fingers and absorb itself into it. Seconds later, he opened his hands to be greeted by the black, shimmering akuma that fluttered free from his grasp, hovering in front of him and awaiting his instructions.

Hawk Moth took a deep breath. "Akuma," he uttered. He gestured towards the perfectly crafted brooch on his chest that reflected the akuma's illuminated purple spots in its silver wings. "Fly into my miraculous."

Nathalie watched in slow motion as the akuma obediently pulled forward and disappeared into the jewelry responsible for its very existance. Within seconds, Hawk Moth was enveloped in the dark smoke, perfectly resembling the wings of his akumas. For a second, it seemed to Nathalie that their plan was about to succeed. But her hopes froze when the smoke didn't cease within a few moments as it was supposed to. She heard a muffled, determined grunt from somewhere inside the cloud, triggering her nerves. The purple splotches began glowing brighter and brighter until her eyes couldn't handle it. She squinted and shielded her face with her arm as his struggled cries grew more and more intense, until they were at the point where Nathalie couldn't bring herself to stand by any longer.

"Gabriel!" She cried, forcing her eyes to endure the painfully bright beams that had taken over him entirely. She ran blindly forward, reaching into the nebula in search for the butterfly miraculous. She frantically felt around the fabric of his suit, but her fingers had just barely touched the sharp edges of the brooch before she was knocked back by a powerful force, slamming into the hard wall behind her.

She fell forward, barely managing to catch herself with her palms just before she faceplanted. Her ears rung uncontrollably, and she couldn't tell whether it was from the shooting pain in her head or the sudden explosion. She lifted her head, grunting in pain as she looked for Hawkmoth. "Sir!" She called out, repeatedly blinking her eyes that refused to focus. Not only had her glasses flown off her face when she'd hit the wall, but she was still blinded by the sudden burst. She stumbled to her feet, her head and heart pounding violently in unison.

Her foot kicked something as it stepped clumsily, and she was finally able to make out the form of Gabriel Agreste, transformed back to his original self. His eyes, framed by sudden dark circles, stared open widely, mouth gaping as it released occasional strangled gasps. He had paled considerably, and his veins visibly poked through his skin. She heard quiet, high-pitched panting, and noticed Nooroo's tiny, lilac form not far away, curled into a ball and seemingly unconscious. She looked back to Gabriel, unbothered by the kwami.

"Gabriel!" She cried again. The miraculous on the man's chest shone perfectly as if nothing had happened. Falling to her knees, she grabbed it and ripped it off of him just to be safe. It tumbled against the floor with a ringing clatter that sounded almost musical. She gave his shoulder a gentle shake, leaning over him.

"Nooroo?" Duusu gasped, rushing to her friend's side and staring, horrified. She prodded him gently, and, when he didn't respond, plopped to the floor next to him. She began to whimper in panic, nuzzling into him as tears of worry instantly filled her large, brightly colored eyes.

"Gabriel, say something!" Gabriel wasn't responding. He showed no signs of being aware of Nathalie's calls or even being conscious. It was clear he wasn't breathing, just struggling and gasping in pain. Nathlie had no choice but to grab her phone from her pocket and dial emergency services.

"Stay with me, Gabriel," she pleaded desperately, just before she was greeted on the other line.


"Paris' famous fashion designer, Gabriel Agreste, has passed away. The reports show that the business owner, with no known health issues, suffered a heart attack in his home yesterday afternoon, which led to his immediate and shocking death. After several attempts at reviving him failed, he was officially pronounced dead at six PM that following evening. Mr. Agreste is scheduled to be buried next to his wife, Emilie, who passed away just over a year ago, though a funeral time has not yet been established. He leaves behind his only child, the newly-orphaned teenaged Adrien Agreste. His will signed all of his wealth and posessions, including his business, to be passed down to him, also placing the renowned fashion model into the care of his personal assistant. Paris has certainly lost one of its most revolutionary creative minds. His designs were some of the most highly praised in the business, and inspired the minds of thousands. The impact his work made will not be forgotten."


The news of Gabriel Agreste was spread throughout France like a wildfire after Nadja Chamack's unexpected morning news announcement. His straight-faced headshot was plastered on every TV station, online article and newspaper in Paris, and hearing talk of his name was inevitable wherever you went. It was natural that the unexpected death of such a well-known and seemingly healthy man would cause the surprised chatter of most citizens.

It was also natural that Alya Césaire would be one of the first to find out. With her passion for journaling and reporting Paris' jawdropping events, she was typically ahead of the game when it came to breaking news, beating the Paris TV news station to it almost every time, though no one was quite sure how she managed.

On the day of his death, Marinette had approached her in dismay, on the borderline of tears, telling her that something "horrible" had happened today and that she didn't know what to do. Alya, being the caring friend she was, offered to stay with Marinette for the rest of the day after school, so her best friend could confide in her.

After the few hours that passed since, she sat at Marinette's desk chair, occasionally flipping through her phone as she listened to her go on. It was nearly 6pm and Marinette lied flat on her back on her day bed, staring at her ceiling with one hand draped over her head. She had just finished explaining the events unfolded that were causing her so much hardship.

According to her, Lila Rossi had been telling her lies again. Alya should have seen it coming. She was often put at the recieving end of her best friend's heated Lila-related rants. Marinette had caught their classmate talking to one of the groups she seemed to attract wherever she went, and upon edging closer to overhear what nonsense she would be spewing this time, discovered harsh words being said about Marinette herself, claiming ridiculous accusations that she didn't hesitate to step in and put a stop to.

Adrien had interrupted Marinette's outraged proclamation of self defense to try to convince her to calm down and not give into Lila's play for attention. But Marinette was tired of sitting by and letting Lila get away with spreading all of these harmful rumors, and she clearly expressed so. Perhaps with more hostility than she intended, but her point stood. But so did Adrien's. He'd once again strongly suggested that she walked away from the situation and not make the chaos any more out of control than it already was. That's when Marinette lost it, snapping that she was apparently the only one with enough self-respect to actually defend herself.

She didn't mean anything by it. Honestly, all sense had left her head in that moment. She had no idea of her surroundings or the harshness of her words when she'd carelessly let them slip out of her big mouth. She'd instantly apologized to Adrien as soon as she'd snapped back to reality, but the damage was already done. Adrien had accepted the apology right away of course, but the hurt in his voice spoke too much volume for her to ignore. The bell rang soon after, and the students all scattered, leaving her bask in self frustration.

"Just like that," she finished her story in a pitiful whimper. "I totally blew it."

"You didn't blow it, Marinette," Alya almost scoffed, smiling reassuringly. "You know how Adrien is. He's not the type to hold a grudge over one little comment."

"I know that, but," she groaned, "I was so rude to him…I couldn't help it. That Lila just brings the worst out of me!"

"And Adrien understands that, does he not? He's fully aware of how often Lila bends the truth."

"I know. And he was just trying to help me be the bigger person and not embarrass myself. And what do I do in return? I explode in his face. It's like I didn't even realize who I was talking to…" She covered her face in her hands. "I can't believe I did that, Alya. Now I've completely ruined my chances. Heck, I ruined our whole friendship."

Alya scooted her chair closer to Marinette, leaning forward onto her knees. "Girl." Marinette made an opening through her fingers to peak at her with one eye. "Tell me, when's the last time Adrien Agreste got so mad at someone that he never spoke to them again? Like come on, you could hit that boy with a car and he would probably apologize."

Marinette couldn't help the slight giggle at her analogy, but followed it with a short sigh, crossing her arms. "That doesn't make what I said okay. You should have seen his face. I definitely messed up."

"Well, maybe you did. The point is, Adrien isn't going to hate you. I'm sure he'll hear you out if you just talk to him. And then he'll probably forget anything ever happened. Trust me. Plus, if he could spend his entire childhood with Chloe Bourgeois and still stand to be near her, then you have nothing to worry about."

"I guess you have a point there," she admitted, looking off and taking her words into consideration.

"I know I do." Alya pulled her phone back up, probably checking her blog inbox. She scrolled casually with her thumb as she talked. "So all you have to do is just take a few days to get your thoughts together, apologize to him Monday morning, and that will be the end of it. I promise, girl, you're making this far bigger of a deal than it needs to be."

Marinette knew she was right. She normally was. She was glad her best friend was so level-headed and confident, unbothered by the little things that seemed to make Marinette feel like the world was ending. Not to mention how quick she always was to help. Still, doubt flooded her whole body. She wasn't sure how she could face him after humiliating the both of them like that. But she tried her best to trust in Alya's advice.

"So…what should I say?"

Alya didn't respond. When the silence continued longer than it should have, she looked over to see her friend gaping at her phone, slowly bringing her hand up to cover her mouth.

She gave her a puzzled look. "What?"

Alya looked up at Marinette and moved her hand just slightly. "Gabriel Agreste had a heart attack?"

Marinette sat up immediately, eyes wide in disbelief. "Wait, what?"

Alya looked back down at her phone and began reading. "'Sources show that Paris fashion designer Gabriel Agreste suffered a heart attack in his home earlier today. He was rushed to the hospital, where attemps at reviving have started. No official announcements or diagnoses have been made at this time.'"

"Oh my…god," Marinette whispered. Guilt ate away at her more than ever.

"Adrien…" Alya trailed off. She rushed to her feet and walked past Marinette, who heard dialing tones coming from her phone. "Hold on, I'm calling Nino."


So there you have it! I have a lot of plans for this story and am really excited to update!

This is the prologue, and I'll be posting the first chapter shortly after this. After that, if all goes according to plan, I'll be uploading once a week.