Here's the prompt: With Ladybug and Chat Noir defeated, their Miraculous in his hands and triumph but an invocation away, Monarch takes a moment to bask in his own glory and imagine the new world about to arrive. He- "Not so fast," a young voice utters from behind him. The villain whirls, startled, and sees Bunnyx glaring at him from a safe distance. "You! Even with your powers over time, you cannot stop me now," Monarch declares. Studying the young heroine, he adds, "You are not the Rabbit host I have fought before." Blonde hair, in pigtails. Blue eyes. A hauntingly familiar face... as if a teenaged Emilie had spawned before him, via some miracle of fate. This was not Emilie, certainly, nor anyone he had ever met before - but the familiarity in her expression, her body language, her mannerisms was haunting to Monarch from the very first moment. "You really don't want to wipe this timeline away yet," the heroine chides him. "I mean, I'm biased, because I want to happen, right? But you're going to want to hear what I have to say first." "And who are you that I should listen to you?" sneers Monarch. "Now that I have ultimate power in my grasp?" She nods towards the fallen Marinette, and four words from her rock Gabriel Agreste's world. "Her daughter." "...Hi, Grandpa."
I have to try this.
—-
Monarch has won.
So why does he still feel empty?
He surveys the damage with glassy eyes, looking out at his city. Fires rage from here to the Monte Panarsse, and bodies litter the streets. In the distance, his enhanced ears pick up a child wailing, a mother struggling to comfort it, someone's last wishes. Ladybug won't be here to fix this.
Ladybug is dead.
He picks his way through the rubble to her spotted, motionless form. Blood pools the debris-covered ground around her, though he isn't sure from where.
His ears pick up no heartbeat.
There the Miraculous lie. Unprotected. Available. There for the taking, seemingly taunting him with the way they shimmer even though the clouds of dust and ash block out all the light.
No. No, that's not right. There is a light.
Monarch turns. A portal.
'The one Miraculous you failed to keep safe', his traitorous mind supplies.
A girl steps through.
Gabriel's heart stops.
The girl is beautiful, with long, silky raven hair and a thin form reminiscent of Ladybug herself. But that isn't what halts his steps, forces his very body into some sort of rigor mortis.
Her face.
She looks just like his beloved Emelie.
Her almond-shaped eyes, emerald, glint at him from under pale skin. Her angled cheekbones. Her pale, smooth skin. The way her small, pursed, peach lips part, as if to say his name–
"Hands off the Miraculous," she demands, and it feels like someone has just dumped a bucket of ice-cold water on his head.
"Who are you?" Monarch snaps, the awe quickly giving way to hard rage. He grits his teeth. Sets his stance.
"Aren't you curious as to why they haven't detransformed yet?"
"They still have their Miraculous." Monarch returns, eyeing her as she stalks through the debris, baton at the ready. The Miraculous of Destruction, he realizes, confirmed by the long, spiked tail jutting out from behind her. It lashes as she moves, throwing back her black hood. "But they won't for long."
She scoffs. "You still grasp for every little bit of control you can, don't you?"
"Who are you?" Monarch grinds out. This child has too much insolence packed into her tiny body, much like Ladybug herself. How could he have ever thought she was like his beloved Émilie? She has too round of a chin, too deep of a voice, too thick arms and too small of a neck.
But no matter. Deal with her, and my victory will be complete.
'But your victory won't truly be complete until you have the Rabbit Miraculous', his mind speaks for him. 'The holder will send champion after champion. You will never find peace until she is out of the picture, whatever that takes.'
"You're realizing how out of control you truly are, aren't you, old man?" His new nemesis sneers. "Bunnyx will send champion after champion (his blood boils at the similarity to his own thoughts) until you are well and truly gone from this timeline. You. Can't. Win. But, she won't need to!"
"And why is that?" Monarch retorts, mind spinning, staff at the ready.
She flips her braids behind her shoulder, circling him. "Because I'm going to stop you myself."
He swings. Lithe as a cat, she sweeps under him, delivering a swift kick to the back of his legs as she vaults back to her feet. By the time he turns, she's gazing at him, the contempt plain in her eyes as she leans on her baton in a manner hauntingly reminiscent of the fallen holder behind her. "The Miraculous doesn't keep you from detransforming, by the way." She flaunts, as if she were talking about the weather and not the most powerful jewels in existence. "When the holder is out of commission, the magic stops."
He doesn't swing. He tells himself it's because every scrap of information can be turned, used against her, but really he's curious, and he hates it. She somehow knows how to get under his skin. No one gets under his skin.
Not anymore, at least.
"It's because I'm here." She continues, a smirk playing on her face. She knows what she's doing. "My Miraculous is rebounding off the current Cat one. It's reading my signal and protecting Chat Noir's identity."
He won't ask. He doesn't care.
She straightens anyway, baton twirling. Flippant. Nieve.
That's what he tells himself. He can see the power in the way she moves. She doesn't waste a single ounce of energy or space. She's good, and she knows it.
But she's still a child.
"You're wondering why Ladybug hasn't revealed herself yet, aren't you?" She crows, as if she's one some imaginary game. He opens his mouth, smart retort on the tip of his tongue, but she has the gall to speak right over him. "My brother is on standby, with our mother's Miraculous. I won't need him, but I'm sure he'd like to have a good go at you."
Our mother's Miraculous. At first he's sure he's won something, somehow. She's slipped up. Given him information. She's Ladybug's daughter. But then he catches the sharp, hard glint in her eyes, the way her lips stretch into a savage grin and her brows furrow, and he realizes the battle has just begun.
"Oh, did I not introduce myself?" She sneered. "My name is Emma. Nice to meet you, grandfather."
The world seems to stop for a moment.
Adrien…
"My son is Chat Noir?!" Monarch rages. Yes, rage. A familiar and easy to manipulate emotion, safer than the others fighting beneath the surface. He lets it fill him, settle over him, harden him. "My son has been lying to me this whole time!"
"You didn't think he could, did you?" Emma shouts, rushing forward. He can see the careless emotion of his creature in the way she attacks, rage flowing effortlessly from every muscle in her body. Sensitive, yet somehow impossibly strong. Her very existence is a paradox. And somehow it still sends him on the defensive, drawing his staff up with not a second to spare against her flurry of attacks. "You thought my father was a monster!" She shrieks, moving to cut under him with her baton. He parries, and they spin. "You made him believe my grandmother's disappearance was his fault. You locked him up for three years! You tortured him, lied to him, manipulated him! You killed him!" She disengages, jabbing a metal-clawed hand towards the motionless body behind her. "That is your son."
Gabriel struggled to place this new torrent of information. That is Adrien. He is Chat Noir. He's been Chat Noir since Émilie passed. This is his daughter, somehow.
I can use that.
"Well, dear granddaughter," Monarch crows, straightening. "Did you ever think about what his… inhumanity… means for you?"
"Let's see. He fell in love, reproduced, has a loving family with no deadbeat, emotionally abusive dads around, and is about to start grading midterms for his physics class at the local college." Emma ticked the items off on her claws. "He sounds pretty human to me."
That's impossible, Gabriel thought. Adrien isn't human.
Apparently, the proof was right in front of him.
The voice in the back of his mind once again saved the day. 'She's trying to distract you. This is a lie, a ploy to get under your skin. Don't let her fool you.'
Monarch rushed for her. "Nice try, pathetic girl," He spits, and her baton rises up to meet his. They spin again, and he aims a punch at her stomach. She dives out of the way, as lithe and wily as her father. "But your tricks won't fool me!"
"Then explain why I look exactly like your dead wife?"
Gabriel freezes. She's right. He can see Émilie in her, Emilie's eyes glaring down at him, backed by a hazy sky, disappointment and rage sharpening her features—
'Don't give her that satisfaction.'
Monarch lets out a wheeze of a laugh, feeling about the concrete he's set into for his staff. Emma holds it triumphantly above her head.
"You think you can mess with me?" He gasps. "I'm not that easy."
She shakes her head, black-gloved hand clenching tighter around his weapon. "I'm not trying to mess with you. I'm going to ruin you."
This is his chance. In one blindingly fast movement, Monarch shoots up, grabbing his staff and one of her braids, and flips over her head, letting his momentum carry her over and into the concrete below. A resounding crack echoes through the empty streets, one lone helicopter fighting through the air above them. "I'd like to see you try." Monarch sneered.
"Would you like a taste of your own medicine?" She sneers right back, somehow up again, and knocks his feet out from under him. He lands in a roll and comes up face to face with her, ducking away from her swinging weapon and catching it between his staff and arm.
"Pathetic." Monarch hisses, twisting, but a swift kick to his stomach sends him flying back, landing in a crouch several paces away.
She kicks a boulder off to the side, dislodging dirt from between the spikes of her padded armor. "You know you used to give Dad nightmares?" She calls across the battlefield, voice teeming with unrestrained rage. "My siblings don't remember it, but I do. Seeing your father break down, completely and utterly helpless, haunted by a person you've only ever heard stories about? I know you have no heart, but let me tell you, it hurts."
"Why should I care?" Monarch calls back.
"You shouldn't." Emma hisses, circling him. "But we do. And our parents told us that we shouldn't hate anyone, that you were hurting, and broken, and insane, but I hate you. With every fiber of my being I hate you. They told us to let go. They never got their revenge, and they never wanted it."
We?
"So we're gonna get it for them!" Comes a new voice, and from yet another portal flies Ladybug.
Well, not Ladybug. This one, for starters, is male, and much more stocky. Large, graceful wings spread from his back, shining all colors with their own internal light. The tips of his hair are dyed red. So he's tacky. Overconfident. He lands on the rooftop behind Monarch, wings folding in. The little motion allows Monarch to see the black stretching from his arms down to his feet. "I don't think we've met, pops. I'm Louis. Your oldest grandson. And I hate your guts too, for the record."
"And just what do the two of you think you're going to do?" Monarch laughs. "You can't be older than—"
"Nineteen." Emma deadpans.
"Seventeen!" Louis calls, satisfaction oozing from his tone. It's insulting, honestly.
"You're teenagers. Children."
"Those are two different things!" Louis calls from behind. Oh, yes, he's definitely Chat Noir's spawn.
"And if you think that means we can't send your sorry arse to hell where it belongs, you've got another thing coming!" Emma grinds out. The two rush in, then, in sync, coming at Monarch from both sides. He takes a moment, stands, waiting, waiting…
Just as they come, he moves, grabbing the braids of the first and smashing her into the second. They go tumbling to the ground, and Monarch lets a savage grin spread across his features. "Children." He sneers.
"I told you to cut those things!" Louis complains, hoisting his sister to her feet. She throws him a look, tying her braids up in a messy bun behind her hood. "Just saying." He mumbles.
"Unfocused. Unprofessional." Monarch sneers again, stalking forward. In the back of his mind he is searching, planning. There are plenty of people in range to akumatize, but it will take some space and concentration. He must pinpoint one before he can put his plan into action. "Just like your parents."
"At least they aren't mentally ill." Emma snarks, circling around him. Louis pulls his yo-to from his side pocket. "Let me ask, when's the last time you designed something new?"
"I don't have to answer to you." Monarch seethes. She doesn't need to know the answer to that question.
"It's been a while, hasn't it?" She continues anyway, baton slung between her shoulder blades. She's waiting for something. But what? "You've been rehashing all of your crappy old designs, hiring young unexpecting artists to do your work for you without any credit to their name. You're a fake, Gabe, and it shows."
"I'll bet your sales have been declining, too!" Louis calls. Monarch decides he likes that one the least.
"And you've been using the Snake Miraculous, I see." Emma snorts. "I can smell your death stench from a mile away."
"Is that so?" Monarch grinds out. She's touched several nerves, and she knows it.
Louis speaks again, and Monarch growls, torn between the two insolent fools. "And how's your assistant doing? You know, our god-grandmother? Sure would've liked to meet her! Our dad's closest thing to an actual parent?"
Monarch spins and rushes for the closest one of them. 'Weak.' The voice in his head chides. 'Just like your sentimonster. Vulnerable, malleable, and hopeless.'
He calls up his Venom and strikes, the power fizzing out on his opponent's baton. He calls it again, swinging, jabbing towards her midsection time and time again, only to be effortlessly dodged. "I'm a cat, old man. You're going to have to be faster than that." Emma snarks, dancing away. Magic rushes over them and Monarch turns to see a black and red striped car hitting the cracked concrete. Louis curses and a portal opens for him to dive through. He comes out the other side, rolling onto the roof a mere few feet away, and calls for a Lucky Charm again.
Dual magic pulls at him from behind, but it isn't enough of a warning. "Cataclysm," Emma whispers, and the Snake Miraculous turns to dust. "Sorry, Sass."
"How dare you?!" Monarch seethes, swinging, but now Louis is hoisting a piano above his head. "You know!" He calls down, grunting from the effort. "Mom always said she wanted to throw a piano at you!"
Emma cackles. "Okay, that was good!"
The piano comes hurtling down, and Monarch barely manages to throw Emma in front of him in time. Her baton glows an ethereal black, and the piano is cut in two.
Monarch is sent tumbling back.
Louis merely blinks. "Should'a stuck with the car, I guess."
He takes to the air and Emma leaps to her feet, a little slower. "What?" Monarch crows. "The two of you will never be strong enough to take me, and you know it!"
"Who sounds like a child now?" Emma grits out, and suddenly Monarch is being attacked from all sides. A whip of black warns him to spin, and then colored light forces him to duck as razor-sharp wings slice through the air overhead. He's driven back, farther and farther into the city, catching fractured glimpses of the remaining people's emotions.
They reach the main square, the destroyed fountain spilling gray water all over the cracked cobblestones. Gabriel feels his back press up against the jagged cement, even through the suit.
"It's over, Monarch." Emma declares, stalking forward. Louis follows, hovering just over the ground, yo-yo spinning in a sort of shield in front of them. "You've lost your assistant, your son, your city, your empire, and your humanity. Now all that's left is those tacky dollar store rings."
Righteous rage rises in him, but he holds it back. "Take them, then."
"With pleasure." The boy calls another Lucky Charm, and Monarch realizes he has no plan.
He taps the Rooster. "Sublimation." He whispers. "I choose the power to—"
A concentrated cataclysm blasts the ring to pieces. Monarch's gaze shoots up.
Emma glares him down, another cataclysm at the ready. "One more time and I'll blast your whole hand off."
Monarch scoffs. "You're too much like your father for that. He was always too sensitive."
A savage smirk pulls at her face. "Lucky for you, I inherited my mother's set of morals."
'She's bluffing.' His mind tells him.
But does he want to take that risk?
Moments ago I had won! The Miraculous were in my hands! How did I get here?
'You failed.' It whispers. 'You had all this power at your fingertips and you didn't have the strength to do anything with it.'
It's right.
He's failed again, and this time might be his last.
No. That can't happen.
His gaze flicks from one to the other, softening. "You know why I'm doing this, right? I never wanted to hurt your parents."
"Sure, but you'll lock dad in a freaking sensory deprivation room." Louis mutters, yelping as Emma kicks him in the leg.
Monarch has to fight hard to keep his cool. He will not lose to these two idiots. So he keeps trying. "Haven't you ever wanted to meet your grandmother?" He asks. "Wouldn't you agree that having Adrien's mother in his life would ease his pain?"
"Don't pretend you care about him." Emma mutters, at the same time Louis quips, "Not really, actually."
Monarch barrels on. "I could make that happen. With one wish, I could rewrite your father's pain and mine! I could—"
"You are a delusional old psychopath, who should go suck— Lou, are you gonna tell if I swear?"
"Absolutely."
"Frick." Emma swings, and Monarch barely has time to duck. Apparently the battle is back on. "You suck, Lou."
"You love me!" The boy calls, leaping into action. His wings cut Monarch's side as he swoops in low, forcing the villain to avoid his swinging weapon. Monarch grabs his staff from Emma, forcing her to flip out of the way, and he sets off after her. She vaults up to the nearest building's caving roof, and Monarch joins her, effortlessly making the two-story jump. Their weapons lock and Monarch twists, sending her baton flying just as something heavy crashes into his back, sending him flying into a nearby smokestack. Before he can react Louis socks him in the jaw, pulling him from the imprinted brick with his yo-yo and slinging him through the wall of the next building.
There's no way they're this strong.
"You know what we do to monarchs in France?" Emma jeers from somewhere outside. Monarch busts a new hole through the waterlogged drywall. "Let me tell you, it's not pretty!"
A piano falls on him from the sky. Monarch doesn't have time to react before wood splinters over his head and the impact drives him to the ground. His hazy mind picks up Louis' voice triumphantly calling, "I knew the piano would work!"
He pulls himself to his feet just as a baton slams him into the drywall.
The fight seems to go on for hours. Every time Monarch reaches for a Miraculous it turns to ash, and he can feel the power leaching out of him. He is slammed into every surface imaginable, wings cutting him and new weapons falling inevitably from the sky like deadly hail. Twice a cataclysm brushes right past him, barely missing his skin, and his body spasms painfully.
Finally, it seems, things slow. The dust clears. Monarch's eyes are burning, lungs heaving for air they can't seem to find. Something wet is crawling up the inside of his throat. His heart is pounding. His head is spinning. His arm, an ever present reminder of Chat Noir's slight victory, is burning like the fires of hell themselves. His vision spins, darkening for a moment, and a cough bursts its way out of his lungs, painful and rasping.
'Weak.'
He knows the voice is right.
And he probably is insane, too. But he's not wrong. He's never wrong. Everything he did, he did for love. Adrien would've understood. Nathalie had understood, for a while, but she had lost sight.
Emma stalks out of the haze, followed by her brother hovering above her. They are a powerful duo, reminiscent of their parents, and for the first time true fear strikes at Monarch's heart.
He's been prepared to die, and it seems today is the day.
But he's got one last trick up his sleeve.
A black butterfly flits out of his enclosed palm, and it heads straight for Emma.
He's felt her emotions the whole battle, raging as loud and violent and unpredictable as a summer storm, just like Adrien's, and it had occurred to him that those emotions should be put to good use.
"Don't you want peace?" He crows, false care oozing from every word. "Stability? Haven't you ever asked for a normal life?"
"No. Not really." Emma deadpans, and she looks him straight in the eyes as black bubbles from her free hand, sucking the light away.
She cataclysms the akuma.
The rush of negative magic that follows is unlike anything Gabriel has ever felt. Pure, white-hot agony sweeps through every part of his body, and both of them are thrown back with a scream. Gabriel can't breathe, can't move, body locked and arching against the pain—
And then it fades, and he's left weak and panting on the ground, helpless once again.
With the way Louis is standing, it's clear he didn't feel a thing. But as soon as it's over, he rushes to his sister's side, pulling her up and into his lap. "I told you not to do that again!" He cries. "You know that—"
"When two dark Miraculous' magic collides, the reaction is volatile and extremely dangerous. You don't have to read it straight out of the grimoire. Lecture me later." Emma pulls herself to her feet, dusting herself off— then she sways and Louis steadies her. "I think he felt it more than me," she comments, and Monarch's vision blurs right on cue.
His arm still burns, he realizes vaguely. It hasn't stopped since the fight began.
"You've only got a few hours left to live now." A new voice says, and finally the Rabbit holder steps out of her own portal.
His own portal. A third teenager, of all people, with blueish-black hair and striking green eyes. He could be a model, Gabriel realizes. Maybe he is Adrien's spawn. But he can't be more than fifteen years old.
"I'd suggest you use it well." The boy continues, slipping his clock into his pocket. His suit is darker blue than this time's holder's, with green accents. "As much as my siblings and I would like to kill you and save everyone else the trouble, we don't feel that serves your crimes justice."
"Besides," Louis begins, kneeling down to wrap Monarch in his yo-yo.
"There's someone who wants to talk to you." Emma finishes.
"Don't forget about the kids!" The third calls. "Oh, my name is Hugo, by the way. If you need another name to use in your useless melodramatic ranting."
Monarch can do nothing but growl, his chest constricting at even that small movement.
"Wow, Mom and Dad were really young." Emma breathes, and Monarch realizes she's reached the two motionless forms at the other end of the battlefield. They're right back where they'd started.
Louis joins her, leaving Hugo to stand guard from a distance. "It's so weird, seeing them like… this." He fixes Monarch with a stern glare, dimmed by the distance and the villain's fading vision. "You do realize that you've been fighting fourteen year olds this whole time, right?"
"They're technically sixteen now!" Hugo calls— like that would do anything to make Gabriel's embarrassment less complete.
"Still!" Emma calls. "It's pretty entertaining to think that he got his arse kicked by two fourteen-year-olds!"
"Swear jar…" Louis calls in a singsong voice, standing over the two bodies. He seems to be scrutinizing them, but what for?
"Oh, come on!" Emma complains. "That doesn't count!"
"Yeah it does!"
"Just do your job." She huffs, cuffing her brother on the back of his neck. He bends down, setting his knees in the dirt. A moment later, he shakes his head. Looks up.
"Hey, Hugo, am I allowed to use my—"
His words are cut off with a smack, and Monarch's dying hope winks out. "I wasn't going to say it!" Louis cries as soon as Emma's hand leaves his mouth. "I was just going to ask—"
"He can't use his Miraculous Ladybug, right?" Emma asks, annoyance tinging her tone. Now Monarch's hearing is fading in and out, too, but Hugo says something about pain and torture and the Geneva Accords, and Louis sighs. "Okay, but this is gonna be hard."
What? The ground tilts beneath him. Everything is falling apart, out of his control. He can't even move, for heaven's sake.
Louis takes his father's hands. "He's the worst, so I'll start with him." He whispers. Then he closes his eyes.
Monarch has never heard the language that spills from his lips. Dimly, he thinks it is beautiful. It feels ancient, and it makes every cell in his body tingle. The boy seems to glow with an inner light, his wings lifting and spreading, catching the light from between the dissipating clouds. He almost looks like an angel. On and on the lilting chant goes, almost more of a song, cresting, delving down, quieter here, swelling there. Warmth fills the air.
Monarch thinks he sees Chat Noir's chest move. But there's no way.
He is dead.
'He was dead.'
Chat Noir's hands clench, a soft moan escaping his lips. Emma lets out a little mewl and throws herself at her father, throbbing with what Monarch can only imagine is some sort of purr. Then she sits back, supporting her brother as he falters.
"Are you sure you're up to this?" She whispers, and he nods, wiping sweat from his face. "I'm fine." He insists. "It's just… a lot."
He just brought someone back from the dead.
He repeats the process for the second figure, and minutes later Ladybug, too, lets out a little gasp, one hand going for her yo-yo on instinct. "It's okay, mom." Emma whispers. "It's our turn to be brave."
She relaxes. It's almost like her body knows the voice of her daughter, although they've never met.
Louis sways, dropping to the ground, and Emma grabs his shoulders. "Woah." She warns. "You're okay. Don't pass out on me."
"That… isn't the plan…" Louis whispers, and it's clear this has pushed him to the limits of exhaustion.
Monarch can't care less. Somehow, he finds the strength to sit up, rolling onto his knees, stretching out with one gloved hand. "Wait!" He rasps, and every word is agony on his insides. He is falling apart, and he can feel it. "You can bring people back from the dead!"
Emma merely glares at him, hoisting Louis up and letting him lean heavily on her.
"You could save Émilie." Monarch gasps. Who cares how he sounds now? This is his last chance! He will die, and his body will be left to rot in the streets. But they could save her. "She— you could go to my house! She's there, I'll give you the code!" He's fully aware of how maniacal he sounds, but a laugh bubbles up out of him nonetheless. "You just have to go to her portrait and push the right buttons, and there's— there's an elevator that will take you down to the atrium and— and you could save her!"
"Let's be clear here." Emma deadpans, heading for the portal Hugo is still holding open. A tantalizing and utterly useless escape. "You want us to go revive your dead wife, who you keep trapped in a basement."
"Swear jar." Louis whispers, and Emma looks like she wants to smash his face in.
"My comatose wife," Monarch corrects, fear and hope and every other emotion known to man swirling in his gut. Surely his own grandchildren would understand! They would help him—
Emma lets a harsh snort escape her. "Yeah, and that's so much better."
Hugo's voice is deceptively, disgustingly soft. "I don't think your wife would want to live in the world you've made for yourself, Gabriel."
Monarch looks around. The fires. The destruction. The smoke. The emotions he can still feel in the background, just a little too out of touch for him to utilize.
He feels nothing looking at it all, and it shows.
"You disgust me." Louis manages, and he staggers over to Monarch's side, avoiding the villain's clumsy swings. One tap at his yo-yo and the string is tight around Monarch's body again, digging in to his charring skin. The villain lets out a hiss, and it seems to bring Louis a small measure of satisfaction. He turns and slowly, painfully makes his way towards the portal, Hugo supporting him the last few steps. Meanwhile, Emma is quite literally picking Monarch up and slinging her over his shoulder. Maybe it's the way he's being thrown around, or maybe it's the touch of the Holder of Destruction, but agony sparks in his body again, and Monarch misses whatever she says to her siblings.
Hugo opens another portal once they're inside the Burrow. "Mom? Dad?" He calls, and Monarch gets a vague view of a sitting room. "It's time."
"One disgusting package for Adrien Dupain-Cheng, coming right up." Emma mutters, practically tossing Monarch's incapacitated form into the room. Adrien stands, and when Monarch's vision finally clears, he sees who's next to him.
She's older, and rounder, and there's a certain ease to how she stands that she didn't have before, but there is no mistaking who the woman his creature married is.
"Marinette." Monarch gasps.
"In the flesh." Her tone is as sharp as her gaze, and suddenly Monarch sees a little more of her in Emma.
"Adrien—" Monarch tries, but he's cut off.
Adrien stands. "Save it, father. I've spent enough time listening to your lies and manipulation."
Behind them, the portal closes. This small room feels crowded now. "For a long time, I didn't want to admit you were even my father." Adrien grinds out, and Marinette places a hand on his arm. It trails down to his own hand, and they interlock. Monarch is forced to look away.
Emma steps forward and rips the Miraculous from his shirt.
The magic, the protection, washes away, leaving nothing but a frail old man wracked with pain. Gabriel withers under the stares of all the people who love his horrible creation.
It steps forward. "Gabriel."
"Adrien." Gabriel's voice is dry. Does he even want to be called 'father' by the thing standing in front of him? Disgust tinges his tone. "You were created to be a face, a model. The life you are living—"
Adrien steps forward, raises it's hand. Gabriel braces for the hit he knows is coming, but it never does.
Instead, something cold pressed into his hands. Adrien almost gently closes Gabriel's hands around them, and to Gabriel's surprise it's not shaking at all.
The rings.
"You've made a grave mistake." Gabriel makes a sorry attempt at a grin, breath rasping against his failing lungs.
"Have I?" Adrien's tone is as steady as his hands. "Control me."
Gabriel can't believe his ears. His own sentimonster, daring him to try to take control.
Control. The one thing he's been grasping for this entire time.
He can see now he's never had it.
"Give me your Miraculous." Gabriel rasps, the last vestiges of his mind desperately churning to click this into place. Victory can still come. (He knows it can't.)
"No." Adrien replies. Even. Calm. Cool. Collected. Everything Gabriel is not. Something does slide into place, but it's not what he wanted.
Gabriel has lost.
His monster has won. His monster somehow has everything he wanted. A wife. A family. A legacy. Power. Control.
Adrien is happy.
"This can't happen…" Gabriel gasps, the last of his self-control giving way. Everything is falling apart. He can feel the pieces of his carefully ordered plan fracturing, falling away, drowning him like quicksand. His mind spins. His vision is failing again.
"You know," Adrien begins, and now his voice is shaking, but not from fear. "I used to hate the fact that I wasn't human. Every morning, I would wake up and look in the mirror and think 'fake. Liar. Fraud.' But then Marinette taught me that humanity isn't decided by genetics. It's a matter of the heart. It's creation."
"But you hold destruction in the palm of your hand…" Gabriel gasps. His heart is slowing. If he is going, he is taking it with him.
"I chose to move past you." Adrien's eyes are wet with tears, but he barrels on. "I chose to love freely, to live freely, to exist, despite the abuse I suffered under you."
Emma moves to stand next to him, and her siblings follow. Together, they are a wall. Steadfast, strong, unconquerable.
He'd think it was almost beautiful if it wasn't his demise.
"And then I found out you were Monarch. My own father."
"You're the same as me." He rasps, grasping at straws.
Adrien's expression changes, and the ground falls away beneath the once-great villain. "That's where you're wrong." He steps forward. "I don't carry your DNA. I was created from my mother's love for you, love that you wasted and disgraced. That's what I choose to live by. Your name? It dies with you. Your worldview dies with you. Your legacy dies with you. My wife—" Gabriel's insides spammed at that word and he let out a barely audible groan. "—has built an empire on the rubble of the Agreste brand. The Tsurugi clan has fallen. Kagami is free. Felix is free. The only other man alive who could rival your evil, Colt Fathom, is long gone. Everything you stand for dies with you."
"It's ironic." Marinette says, and for all her cool air it's obvious she's enjoying this. "You told me I would never amount to anything and yet here I am with your son, in your house, overtaking your business, holding your Miraculous."
"You're the one who'll end up as nothing." Emma spits, and Adrien lays a calming hand on her arm. Hugo takes up the dialogue, speaking in a low tone. "From dust you come, and to dust you will return."
"And you don't have much longer." Louis adds, eyes closing and shoulders tensing. Gabriel feels a shudder pass over him, and Louis' eyes open. "Maybe two hours."
"I want to show you something." Adrien commands, and the certainty in his—it's, he can't let himself be fooled— voice is so revolting that Gabriel gathers up what little moisture is left in his mouth and spits at the floor by the monster's feet. Emma lunges, but Louis catches her by the arm and yanks her back.
Adrien's eyes have turned to chips of ice. It motions to Hugo, and the boy waves his arm. "Picture." He whispers.
This portal is unlike anything Gabriel has ever seen. It's like a movie screen, or a portal, or somehow both. A mirror into a different place in the same timespace.
'This is what you could've learned if you hadn't failed.'
Then he takes a closer look.
"What have you done…" Barely audible, every word agony on his collapsing organs. This is his mansion.
But it's horrific.
Gaudy, crazy colors coat the walls in a grotesque array. The crisp, open space is gone, and half of the lobby is an open kitchen, people streaming in and out. Some are small children, and Gabriel realizes with a jolt that most of the others are Adrien's classmates. They're using every bit of Gabriel's space, sitting on countertops and skating across the floor, painting the walls— and oh, mon dieu, one of them is hanging from the ceiling.
There are homeless people there, too, gratefully accepting meals cooked by the schoolchildren themselves. And a gaggle of students are leeching off the building's WiFi. Someone skates across, blocking his view for a moment, and Gabriel feels acid crawl up his ravaged throat. Through the window he can spot the shining reflection of a pool, and—
His heart stops.
Émilie's statue is gone.
Adrien follows his gaze, hands at his sides. "Mother died, after you did. You forced me to excavate her comatose body from the ruins of your basement. But there are offices down there now, and a garden. We use it for counseling."
Gabriel's clouding eyes never leave the statue's recess. It has been replaced by a stone seat, covered in messily hand-sewn pillows and showered in fresh rose petals from the surrounding arbor.
It's despicable.
"She deserved to rest, Gabriel." Adrien breathes.
Addressing him not as an authority figure, but as an equal. Two fathers, one free, the other chained by the past.
It was supposed to be the other way around.
The window closes. Adrien turns to face Gabriel, looming over him. There is nothing small about him anymore. Something in the line of his shoulders says proud. Bold. Confident.
He begins again, "I used to wonder how a father could ever watch his son be born into this world and think, 'Ah, yes, this is a tool to manipulate, not a gift to treasure and guide.' I would give my life for my children, in a heartbeat. But now, I don't see a father." There is no disdain in his voice, only… pity? "All I see in front of me is a broken, hurting, dirty, shell of an old man with nothing left to lose. You've been grieving for long enough, and…" Adrien's voice shakes, and his eyes are red-rimmed and watery again. Marinette reaches up on her tiptoes and lays her head on his shoulder. "I hope your death will bring you some peace, Gabriel. My younger self will have nothing good to say about you at your funeral except that you tried. So stop trying. You've been trying for long enough."
Émilie. He can feel her, calling to him.
Everything is becoming hazy. Another window opens and someone steps through. Tall, sassy. The Rabbit Holder.
She transforms, leaving Hugo in his regular clothes. Gabriel can feel the world tilt under him— she lifts him, carrying him off into the Burrow.
She sets him down in an abandoned garden, and stays with him until everything goes black.
At some point, the twin rings fall out of his hand.
Destruction, he realizes, as the darkness presses in and peace overcomes him, is hauntingly beautiful.
—
Emma is still reeling when her father reminds her that she has one last job to do. Lou would be far better at this, but the last confrontation seems to have taken everything out of him, and Hugo and Mom are already busy enough making sure Dad doesn't break down.
So the task falls to her.
Bunnyx (Aunt Alix) opens a portal for her. The destruction she can feel takes her breath away, but Emma steps forward into the light anyway. She's donned the Ladybug Miraculous. Again, her brother's specialty, not hers, but family is worth everything.
The light recedes, pushing her forward, and the dark magic present hits her like a punch in the gut. This is why she prefers the dark Miraculous. They're not as sensitive. Emma realizes the portal has put her out by the ruins of the Agreste Mansion.
Bunnyx pokes her head through the portal. "Sorry, I didn't account for the gradual increase of the Earth's speed of rotation—"
"No, no, it's fine." Emma waves her hand. The fact that Hugo seems to understand Alix's mumbo jumbo is insane enough. "I want to see this."
Their home looks… like not their home. It's off, somehow. Unsettling. Even the rubble gives off cold and empty, and the lack of plants is legitimately disturbing.
Are those bars on that broken window?
Emma picks her way into the courtyard. Cracked beige cobblestone and matching pieces of wall debris paint a rather depressing picture. In the middle, untouched, just as her dad had described it, sits the statue of her grandmother. She gazes up at it, noting the similarities. A little smile curves her face.
"Slap him again for me if he makes it to heaven, grandma." She whispers, and then she heads back to the portal. This time, Bunnyx drops her off a few feet from the superhero duo, who are now sitting up and incredibly confused.
Emma kneels in front of her father (that is so weird, he's younger than her), waiting for his eyes to refocus. A little gasp escapes him, and he checks to see if he's still transformed himself.
She can't help it. "Relax, dad." She smirks. "I didn't steal anything."
Chat Noir's mouth opens and closes, like a fish. Emma continues, cooly, "You and Mom did great."
Ladybug whispers something unintelligible, and Chat Noir turns bright red. "Let me finish." Emma warns. "The two of you were chosen far too early. Right place, wrong time, one might say. You were forced to pay for the mistakes of your Master's past, and you hold your burdens with honor. But you've been fighting long enough."
They look at each other. Chat Noir wets his chapped lips. "Is Monarch…"
"He's dead." Emma replies, and she only feels a little guilty at the stab of satisfaction that runs through her. "We didn't kill him, his own bad decisions did. And dad, don't feel bad about cataclysming him. He could've come to you for help. He chose to be cataclysmed, and he chose to be a stubborn jerk. That is not on you."
Chat Noir merely blinks, rubbing at his side where he'd been impaled. Emma can't even imagine the amount of confusion and shock that had to be coursing through him at the moment. He's strong, she had to remind herself. He's dad.
Sixteen-year-old dad.
Focus.
"Here's the thing— the fight isn't over." Emma stands, and Ladybug stands with her, pulling Chat Noir up. The two are swaying like a tree in a summer storm, but they are strong enough. Together.
She swallows. "When I call for my power, the Miraculous of the Butterfly will be pulled into a vortex of magic. I'm not sure where it will end up."
Chat Noir arches an eyebrow at her. Yeah, that's definitely dad. "Your future self said no spoilers." She amends.
"I… don't like my future self." Chat rasps. Ladybug lets out a hoarse little chuckle.
Emma folds her arms. "I'll make sure to tell him that. The next Hawkmoth is coming, and you have to be ready. Give me one second."
"Miraculous Ladybug." She calls, and a pen and paper fall into her hands. She scribbles down four words and hands them to Ladybug, who's eyes go impossibly wide. She blinks, rubs them, probably thinking she's hallucinating. Emma leans in. "Tell him when you know he's ready." She whispers. "Trust your instincts. You'll know the right time. Just.. maybe wait until after the funeral?"
Ladybug blinks, then nods. Emma can't help but marvel at her mother's resilience.
She looks between the two heroes. "I can't answer all your questions, but I can say this. The time for secrets is over. Use your period of peace wisely. Tell each other who you are. Have those uncomfortable conversations. Plan out your future. Set up a support team so that neither of you ever has to face evil alone again." She doesn't need to tell her mother to give the Miraculous to their respective holders, she can already see the gears turning in young Ladybug's mind. "You are always, always, stronger together. Take what you have and use it."
Chat Noir nods, a new sense of purpose filling his eyes. His gaze flicks to the horizon, and he stands a little straighter. "When…" He coughs. "When they come back, we'll be ready."
Ladybug nods, hand going to the yo-yo hooked at her hip.
Emma takes a deep breath, shocked to find sharp, hot tears pricking the corners of her eyes. She hesitates. "I am so proud of you both."
Chat Noir's face crumples, but he stands strong. Ladybug nods her thanks.
"Miraculous Ladybug!" Emma calls, and as the streams of pink fill the sky and city with color, she realizes she's never been more proud to wield her mother's Miraculous.
The heroes straighten, looking at each other with an odd expression. Emma heads for the portal, and just as she's about to disappear, she stops. "Oh, one more thing!"
Ladybug and Chat Noir look her way.
"Name your hamster Giglio!" Then she disappears. Why on earth did Dad want me to say that?
'We get a kick of it down the road, trust me.' Her dad had promised.
Good to know dad jokes have always been his sense of humor.
"He's dead." Louis whispers as soon as she appears back in the secluded family room. "I felt it. Right before you left."
Her dad is surrounded by his friends, his team, his partners, and everyone's in a group hug. Emma takes one look at Louis and Hugo and the three rush to join in, squirming into the middle and hugging their dad so tight the air is squeezed out of his lungs. Adrien gasps with laughter as someone jabs their fingers into his side and before long everyone is a tumbling, writhing, cackling pile of people.
Emma thinks her father has never looked more free.
—
A/N:
The four words were "His father was Monarch", if that wasn't clear :)
Gosh this got away from me! Eight thousand words!
And the hamster is giglio cuz Louis Giglio is a thing and I feel like Adrien would make music puns :/
Gnnnnn I'm tired lol