Mayura

Broken

Standing in his cold, isolated chamber, Hawk Moth watched over the city from the small gateway he had been allowed. Had it not been for Ladybug, all of Paris would have been his to manipulate. Despite his struggles and losses, however, the man would endure. For Emilie, for their son, he would suffer anything. Turning away from the city, the dark Miraculous gazed at the swarms of akuma fluttering around the room and filling it with a corrupt white light. "Why do you defy me?" he asked of the spirits, his voice strong but laced with sorrow and anger. "You were created to serve the master of the butterfly Miraculous: To do otherwise is an abomination!"

Unchanged by their so-called master's words, the white sprites created a slight hiss as their wings flapped. The mysterious beings' non-existent eyes seemed to stare into Hawk Moth's blackened soul, as if in judgment of him. Turning to each corner the butterflies hovered about, the man studied their numbers and spread his arms. "I am your master!" he declared, creating an echo throughout the chamber. "You will all live and die in my service! That is the reason for which you were born! I am the realization of the dream of the Miraculous, and my word is law!" The swarm seemed to beat its wings faster as the beast spoke. "Now, come to my aid, and be at my side. Paris belongs to us…and I have found the newest vessel for my goal."

As commanded, a small swarm of Akuma gathered to Hawk Moth's call, each seeming to vie for his favor. Clasping one in his hands, the beast focused corruptive energy and filled the spirit with its wicked light. Upon releasing the evil spirit, Hawk Moth watched it fly through the glass fixture and enter the illuminated city of Paris. Go now, he commanded of his Akuma. Find him. Fill him with the power he needs to crush the Miraculous. Turning back, the man saw the remainder of the small swarm still hovering in place mere feet away from him. Soon, the white butterflies disbanded one by one, each latching on to their so-called master's left arm. "What is happening?" the dark Miraculous exclaimed as he attempted in vain to shake the creatures off. Despite his struggles, the white spirits clung to his sleeve, and more came to join them. "I did not order this! I command you, all of you, get back!" The glowing beings flapped their wings, their grasp unchanging. Soon, they began to lay their faces upon Hawk Moth's arm, and slowly started to consume the dark costume he had clothed himself in. "No! Stop this now!"

Suddenly, the cover in the center of Gabriel's lair opened as the platform rose up, allowing Nathalie to run to her dearest friend's side. "Sir, I heard you struggle," she fearfully exclaimed. "I don't understand: What's happening?"

"I don't know!" Hawk Moth declared as he swiped at the creatures threatening to consume him. "You should not have come here!"

Without hesitation, Nathalie began clawing and thrusting her hands at the white spirits, forcing them to part from their prey. "I won't let anything happen to you, sir!" she declared as her furious motions continued. "No matter the cost, I will protect you!" Even as both Hawk Moth and his assistant struggled, the swarm continued to gather around them. There seemed to be no end to their rampage, but Nathalie refused to relent.

Their wings flapping faster and faster every second, the wicked swarm began gnawing at both Hawk Moth and Nathalie without remorse or hesitation. Blood began to swell and leak from fresh wounds brought on by either the teeth or legs of the white spirits as they plunged into their prey. Despite his power, Hawk Moth was able to defend himself only with sheer brute force, though it proved too little. At the same time, Nathalie aimed only to protect her friend, leaving her subject to the butterflies' terrible, needful hunger. Despite all her pain, though, she endured, for him.

After an hour of struggling, their bodies battered, exhausted, torn in so many places, and releasing small streams of blood, Hawk Moth and Nathalie found themselves on the cold, reddened floor of the observatory. His eyes red and shedding tears of blood and his jacket all but tattered, Hawk Moth tried desperately to catch his breath as the white butterflies returned to silence in the upper corners of the room.

Her glasses lying on the ground, cracked, her hair loose and down, and clothed only in a thin layer of wilted fabric that soon fell from her body, Nathalie looked over at her beloved friend, saw his pain and his wounds, and slowly crawled towards him on bloodied knees. Before the man took notice, the purple-haired woman wrapped her exposed and bleeding arms gently around his neck, resting upon his shoulders, as she closed her eyes and slowly draped her naked body around his lightly armored exterior. "Thank God you're alright," she passionately whispered as she slowly pulled herself closer. "You're alright…You're alright. I saved you…It's all over now."

Hawk Moth watched in horror as the assistant he had known and trusted for years tightly held him, her closed eyes flowing with tears, her unkempt hair draped over her scratched shoulders, her breasts swollen and nipples tender as she drew closer and closer to him, and her blood-stained lips pouring forth desperate thanks. Her heart beating faster than ever before, her mind wracked with the weight of terror and the possibility of a horrible loss, Nathalie found herself unafraid and weakened by the nightmarish thought of what could have been. Never had Gabriel seen her in this light. The very sight of it disgusted him and filled his mind and body with a rage so pure it seemed to burn him. Forcing himself onto his legs, causing Nathalie to dangle before her bloodied feet once more touched the ground, the dark Miraculous tightly clenched the woman's throat with his left hand and caused her arms to drop at her sides.

"Sir, please," Nathalie desperately choked out as her heart began to pound violently and fearfully. "Please… All I wanted was to protect you…"

Focusing the last of his strength, Hawk Moth charged forward and smashed his assistant against the cold, steel wall next to his glass window into Paris, his teeth tightly gritted and his eyes burning with hatred. "Never," he roared with a voice that scarcely resembled that of Gabriel Agreste or even Hawk Moth. "Never lay your filthy hands on me that way again!" Nathalie felt her body become fully limp as fear coursed through her core and into her extremities. "You are nothing to me! You are nothing compared to her! Consider yourself lucky I have chosen to spare you this time. Should you ever offer yourself to me in such an obscene manner, especially within her presence, I will not hesitate to offer you up to my Akuma…Do you understand me?"

As hot, shameful tears of fear, pain, a loss of passion, rejection, and self-disgust welled up and streamed from her reddened eyes, Nathalie nodded her pale head and choked out a compliant and subordinate, "Yes, sir." With that, Hawk Moth released her, causing her to collapse against the wall once her knees and bottom hit the floor. Desperately gasping for air, her throat throbbing and raw, the long-suffering woman allowed her hair to drape over her face, if only to hide her shame.

"Now, get out," Hawk Moth snarled, turning away from the woman who had served him selflessly and tirelessly for years. "I have no more need of you tonight."

"Yes, sir," Nathalie sobbed as she slowly struggled to her trembling feet.

"From this moment on, the two of us are nothing more than business associates," the dark Miraculous declared with an icy spite in his voice. "To me, you have no name, no identity, and no respect due."

"Sir, no, please!" Nathalie begged, thrusting her right arm outward towards the heartless beast before her. "I…I can't live like this. Please, I need you if I'm going to continue this life! Please, sir!"

"Silence!" Hawk Moth roared. "Leave me!" The man's words burned with hatred. In response, the purple-haired woman hung her head in shame and defeat, crossed her arms to conceal her shamed, swollen breasts, and silently made her way back to the platform that lowered her into the office below. "…Emilie…forgive me," he whispered once his assistant was gone. In the darkness and loneliness that had not hurt this terrible in so long, Hawk Moth released Nooroo, returned to his human form, and fell to his knees, allowing the palms of his hands to catch him before his face could collide with the cold ground. In his personal surrender, Gabriel felt the Akuma he had released quickly wither and die without fulfilling its purpose, only to blow away like embers on a cold wind.

Incapable of speaking, the butterfly Kwami floated to his master's side and placed his tiny hand on his shoulder. For the years he had known and served the creature that was once Gabriel Agreste, Nooroo had watched him endure so much pain and inflict so much self-hatred on who he was and what he was doing. Over those years, the Kwami had tried to help his master change his ways and let the darkness wash away, but to no avail. Now, all he could do was comfort Gabriel in the most basic of ways.

Allowing the hot water of her personal shower to wash the blood and spiritual filth from her pale body, Nathalie tightly closed her eyes as they continued to drip with bitter tears as she clenched her shoulders and guarded her breasts. Through the hiss of the stream, through the sound-proof walls surrounding her that only allowed sound from the observatory to slip through, the long-suffering was able to let out her cries and screams until her throat grew raw. For so long, she had worked tirelessly, pining away and holding her feelings inside day after day, night after night, all without regret. All the while, she wanted nothing more than to support her beloved friend in the fleeting hopes of bringing his long-lost wife back into his arms, and to see true happiness return to the boy she could never become a mother to. However, there was always something else, something more frightening beneath the surface of all she said and did: The feeling was entirely alien to her, though the deepest, purest, and most vulnerable part of Nathalie Sancoeur, which had been kept crushed, silent, and caged for decades, knew what it truly was. But now, after all that had happened, and all she had done, she would never be allowed to accept that most sacred of feelings, much less experience it for herself. After several minutes, the bleeding finally stopped.

Though the night had entered its depths, Nathalie no longer felt a sense of urgency or a need for sleep once the faucet was shut off and her breath had slowed. Stepping out from the glass box that had kept her sheltered, the purple-haired woman walked onto a soft matt that warmed her aching feet, leaned forward, and wiped the fog from the mirror before her. Nathalie gazed at her reflection: Her pale skin reflected the unrelenting light above its surface, as if to expose her shame, her bloodshot eyes were still damp with old tears, her soaked hair draped over her cut and clawed shoulders and neck, her lips dry and lightly slit from the struggle, her creased stomach small and receding from days spent nearly starving, and her breasts hanging from her chest and lifting with each breath she took. She had never been so ugly in her own eyes.

The feeling of filthiness and shame seemed to decay her body from the inside out as she stared at the hideous woman that stared back at her without mercy. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, trying with all her might not to break down crying again. Despite maintaining what shred of composure she still held, Nathalie watched as her reflection began to release an endless stream of tears from her eyes. Thrusting back in terror, the woman quickly wiped her eyes, only to find them slightly damp. Returning her gaze to the mirror, her image, though frightened, shed no tears. "…What's happening to us?" she sobbed, her voice reduced to little more than a choking whisper.

Her arms beginning to tremble once more, Nathalie tightly clenched the rim of her sink and used it to support her weight. Within her stomach, what felt like a violent storm began to form, creating a pain and nausea that forced the woman to cover her mouth with her hand and double over even further. Images of her failed attempts to comfort Gabriel flashed through Nathalie's mind as flashbacks filled with her mother's screaming, swearing, and beatings tore through like fire through paper. It was all too much: It was as if the wicked voice of the long-forgotten mother had returned to shame and disgrace her daughter once more in her darkest hours. Falling to her knees, her hands still clenching the sink, Nathalie let her head drop as she desperately gasped and exhaled, trying with all her might to fill her empty lungs with oxygen. It didn't take long to grow lightheaded, all the while suffering with nausea that refused to cease. As hot tears once more fell from her weary, reddened eyes, the long-suffering woman watched as the small, salty drops fall into her lap.

All hope seemed lost, all comfort had left the cold, dark world, and the hellish womb of despair opened itself wide to swallow the beaten, broken woman that had once been Nathalie Sancoeur. Suddenly, after closing her eyes, the lonely soul felt a soft, gentle embrace upon her right shoulder. Though its texture was that of a feather, the embrace itself could be nothing other than the hand of a loving man or woman. Upon feeling that touch, Nathalie was able to calm herself, lower her shoulders and release the tension they held, and let out a sigh of joyful relief before laying down on her right side and closing her eyes. For the first time in so long, her sleep was pure and untouched by nightmares or bad memories. "Come find me, Nathalie," a strange, distant, yet caring voice begged of the woman. "Please. We'll never have to be alone or afraid ever again. Come find me, Nathalie."