I winced as I peeled my bandages from my wound.

It was a gnarly scrape, even though it was shallow it was still too big to fit under a simple bandaid. The scrape had scabbed over by now and the redness around it had already faded. I was lucky it didn't get infected.

Not that I was lucky to begin with. Because if I was normal, I wouldn't need to worry about it getting infected at all. I wouldn't need to worry about wearing long sleeves or coming up with dumb excuses if Ladybugs magic fix it all had actually worked.

'Don't be dumb.' Chase had said.

Yeah I like I was planning on fighting a lion.

Or wrestling a 30 foot crocodile, for that matter.

I didn't know what came over me. I could tell Ladybug had no clue what to do with the roll of duct tape. Chat Noir couldn't help at all - he might've lost his arm if the akuma shook him any more than it had. If Ladybug hadn't wrapped that fight up quickly he could've...

I shook my head.

Ladybug had been in shock. I must've been in shock in shock too, considering the instant I put two and two together resulted in me fearlessly racing towards something that could easily snap me in two. And I couldn't say I wasn't thinking, because my mind was quite clear. I knew what I had to do and in that instant I had the courage to do it.

But it wasn't courage that I was feeling. That would insinuate I was feeling any fear at all.

Looking back on it, I couldn't really connect with what I felt in the moment. It didn't feel like me; I just wasn't the type of person to go from getting scared of The Bubbler of all people, to wrestling a ginormous reptile in under two months.

It must have been the shock of seeing Chat Noir brutally injured that caused me to... disconnect from my emotions.

...Unless my brain got invaded by some sort of AI bent on world domination that is slowly turning me into a robot in a scheme to bloodlessly eradicate all human life on planet Earth.

I've been watching too many dystopian movies.

Knight zipped in front of the bathroom mirror, racing their reflection before doubling back. They were disappointed every single time they tied.

I smiled, before fighting back a yawn, and the smile turned into a frown.

I wished I had more energy.

Every time I transformed, I feel like I ran a mile. The longer I stayed powered up, the more exhausted I become. As cool as being able to intangibly dash forward was, I wasn't sure it was worth the potential risk of passing out in the battle field.

Using Shadow Dash twice in the fight was risky. The first one I used to push the goat off the roof left my knees shaky. The one I used to dodge the jaws of the crocodile left black spots in my vision, and once the adrenaline faded I could hardly stay standing. I was just able to make it to cover before I detransformed. The energy didn't return to me and I was left with an empty tank.

I usually feel a bit better after I eat, sleep and, oddly enough, take a shower.

Hopefully I get used to it.

I rewrapped my wound with new bandages and pulled a sweatshirt over my head. The neck was tighter than I expected and my head just managed to squeeze through. Leaving my hair a mess. Knight, briefly distracted by my movement, floated closer and inspected the collar.

"Knight, no," I nudged them away with my hand, but they merely evaded it and headbutted my collar. "You know that stains."

I inspected the collar and, sure enough, there was a brand new dot of gray right where Knight touched it. I looked at them. "I hope you're happy with yourself."

They blinked, giving nothing away.

"Don't look so pleased with yourself. You do this every time. On purpose."

I grumbled- but I couldn't stay mad at Knight.

In other news:

Auditions were coming up. The musical was Beauty and the Beast -which was lame, but it was better than nothing. I didn't envy Chase, who somehow managed to get wrangled into the Student Director position. And considering how much he complained about Monsieur Garnier, the man must be just about useless.

"I'm pretty sure the only reason he bought the rights to the show is because I'm a student so I shouldn't be entrusted with the budget or paperwork." Chase had grumbled sometime during his venting session. "Even though I have to be so I can work with costume and equipment limitations, not to mention getting a stage to perform on-"

Yeah.

I felt a bit bad for him, but he literally signed himself up for it. I was glad I didn't sign up for a leadership position, it just wasn't my style. I'd much rather be some random ensemble member: no lines to memorize, no kissing scenes, only the basic dancing, acting, and singing (the best part).

It would be good for him, especially if he was still planning on pursuing a career in acting.

Anyway, the audition comprised of two elements: a memorized monologue and a song. The song was provided but the monologue wasn't. Which meant I had to find my own. So I looked up funny minute monologues and chose "I Ate The Divorce Papers."

Easy. Simple.

What wasn't easy or simple or fun was the fact that Adrien's Father was a supreme jerk.

I dropped my bag next to my seat and slid right next to Adrien. He was in an uncharacteristic slouch, head on the table, not even using his arms as a pillow. I bumped against him and he didn't even look up.

I frowned. He was usually so upbeat in the morning- excited for the day. This was a new look for him, one that worried me.

"Hey, Adrien," I poked his side and he shifted slightly, but didn't respond. I held in a sigh. "C'mon, man, it's obvious something's eating at you and depressed is my schtick. Are you stealing my brand?"

"No..." His reply was so incredibly mopey that it actually surprised me.

"Do you..." I was a little hesitant to ask the big question. Nino wasn't here yet, and he was collectively voted most emotional stable out of the three of us. "Want to talk about it?"

Adrien grumbled something I couldn't quite make out.

"Pardon?"

"Father isn't letting me be in the musical."

What.

"Well, your father's a piece of crap! Did you tell him that?!"

And the barrier that was making his words get stuck in his throat fell.

"No, but he said I can't because it'll 'interfere with my modeling-'"

"Which you don't even want to do-"

"-and all my lessons in Chinese, piano, fencing-"

"-that he's making you do so you have no time to hang out with 'bad influences'-"

Adrien stopped talking. I winced a bit, wondering if I overstepped. I was trying to fire him up- he had a pretty bad habit of stewing over what makes him angry. And something that I learned in our friendship was that he didn't always realize when something was bothering him.

(Gabriel Agreste taught Adrien to be grateful about every scrap of affection he got from him, whether it was a congratulations of a modeling job well done or a single acknowledgement after a silence spanning weeks. So he preferred brushing everything under the rug, because something was better than nothing.

It wasn't until later, when Nino and I started fighting for his freedom, arguing on his behalf, that Adrien ever thought that he deserved more. And even then, after getting something he wanted, after going to school and having friends, he let himself be blinded by all the good things he saw.

Homework wasn't a problem, because then he had an excuse to hang out with Nino and I. He didn't understand that Chloe was trying to be hurtful until he witnessed someone cry after she tore into them. She had always been abrasive, maybe even cruel. But he had thought that was what made Chloe, Chloe.

There was an innocent shield in front of his eyes. He had no interaction with people his age until he was thirteen, just turning fourteen. His manners came from Nathalie, his tutors and his father.

And once he found people, he became friends with the same grace as a five year old on a playground asking if anyone else likes beyblades.

He never had time for introspection, and he was almost too scared to even think about disobeying his father again.

Perhaps our 'bad influence' was exactly what Adrien needed to mature and come into his own, as a person.

And that's something I only realized further along the line)

But soon, Adrien breathed and started again. "I do enjoy some of the things Father signed me up for. Fencing is really fun and I wouldn't be able to speak with you if he didn't sign me up for English lessons."

"But you should be able to choose what you want to do."

Adrien hesitated, before slowly nodding. "Yeah... I guess so."

I stared at him for extra measure, just to be sure, before nodding once. I turned to my own space, set on getting out my notebook only to pause under the scrutiny of three gazes.

Marinette was staring at us, looking somewhat confused and very lost- like she was trying to get to a local supermarket and ended up in Germany.

Nino (when did he get here?) had a similar expression on his face, except he only ended up a street over.

And, oddly enough, Chloe. The girl was an enigma and I could never even guess what she might be feeling. Her expression's default seemed to be disgust (at everyone around her) and smugness (in regards to her own accomplishments). She had a strange antagonizing relationship with most people in the class (except Adrien), but the comments were mostly shallow - the one time she made me retreat to the bathroom was the exception, not the norm. That was a personal hang up, more of a temporary weakness than proof of Chloe psychoanalyzing me and realizing I had a budding hero/guilt complex and using it to give me a brief mental break down.

So she was a puzzle. I couldn't guess her motives for playing into the rich kid stereotype - and I refused to believe she was genuine in her attempts to emulate Regina George, or Heather. People didn't respect her, she didn't gain anything from it other than scorn and grudges. They didn't envy her clothes or her money or the fact her dad was the mayor (I certainly wouldn't envy that, considering the current affairs of Paris).

So what was the point?

I had a couple ideas in my mind, but one in particular stood above the rest:

Mommy Issues.

It was unlikely to be Daddy Issues. Chloe bragged about him all the time, and he in turn was wrapped around her perfectly manicured finger.

Considering Chloe's minor celebrity status, one would think there would be some coverage over the family. And there was - basic information, anyways. Nothing anyone would really care about.

But there was never any mention of the mayor's wife or Chloe's mother. That alone was suspicious.

Hence: Mommy issues.

"Good morning, class."

Madam Bustier's greeting interrupted any further theories regarding Chloe's potential problems.

And all my mental capacity was directed towards parsing french poetry.

Until I ultimately got distracted by Nino making a dumb joke about the poet's name (Jacques Prévert) and Adrien being confused. So I explained the joke to him (Prévert sounds like the english word pervert). And he laughed, but it was the sort of polite chuckle that meant he still didn't get it.

I waved him off, a sign of defeat.

. . .

Being Costume Chief involved more than Marinette initially expected.

First off, she didn't know that she had to go to weekly meetings until Alya dragged her there. The meetings were conducted in the band room with Monsieur Garnier mostly there to get an understanding of how much of a budget they had to work with.

Mari wasn't sure where she got the idea, but she thought that she would be making each costume from scratch. After the first weekly meeting the tech crew heads had, she realized how much that would entail and promptly freaked out. She thought she would be making the main characters' costumes, like Belle, Beast, Lumiere, Gaston. But she also had to make all of the ensemble members costumes- that's anywhere from twenty to thirty people! In under a year. Then she looked at the budget for costumes and continued to freak out because fabric is expensive and she needed enough for nearly forty different costumes.

And then Alya had noticed her sitting there, quietly having a meltdown, and asked the big question.

"So Marinette doesn't have to make all of these from scratch, right?"

Genevieve, the Assistant Student Director, shared a look with Chase. He shook his head. "Not at all. In fact, it's encouraged for you not to do that. It's expensive and time consuming. Look for stuff you need in a thrift store, or a cheaper costume store."

Marinette let out a sigh of relief and just about face planted into the music stand she was using as an impromptu desk. Alya patted her on the back.

The third meeting they watched (skipped through) Beauty and the Beast and studied the different settings, the time period and clothing to get a better grasp on what they'd be making. They looked at pictures online of what other productions did -Marinette was interested in how they converted the enchanted objects into the costumes. It looked a little strange, but it wasn't like Mrs. Potts was an actual tea spout someone was puppeteering onstage. No, instead she had a dress that puffed out around the legs and was cinched near the ankles.

It was creative, though the broadway designs were far too extravagant for Marinette to replicate with the tight budget.

Thrift stores it is, she decided.

More and more people started showing up for the weekly meetings, as people signed up to be a part of tech. And, suddenly, Marinette had a small team of people to boss around and help her plan what they needed.

Mari figured she would start on the ensemble: the Townsfolk and Enchanted Staff. She would also need a few costumes for the wolves, or maybe puppets? That seemed like something to discuss with the props department. Townsfolk were easy; a simplified 1700s peasant look. All she needed were layers- aprons and plain dresses and trousers and-

Someone poked her side.

Marinette squeaked and looked up from her notebook. Nathaniel was standing there, clutching his sketchbook to his chest and looking down at the floor. Marinette felt a moment of confusion. Why was he here? She didn't remember him ever being involved in the Tech meetings. Then she remembered that art students could get extra credit from helping to design the sets.

"What's up, Nathaniel?" Mari still wasn't sure why he was bothering her, specifically.

He leaned side to side uncertainly and kicked the floor. "Uhm... Can-can you look at this?" He mumbled.

He tilted his sketchbook towards her and Marinette got a good look of a pencil drawing of gorgeous castle halls. Despite the simplified format that made it clear it was supposed to be a set design, it was still chalk full of details like the stone bricks crumbling from vines and shattered stained glass windows.

"Oh that looks great!" Marinette exclaimed. Then she shifted away. Where was she again?

Right.

The guys would also need plain clothes, earthly tones for the trousers and off white shirts. That should be pretty easy to get, but she still needs the cast members measurements to make sure they fit. She could assign maybe four people to go thrifting for that stuff once they get sizes. The Enchanted Staff needs to look a little more glamorous- they're furniture and other items in a castle, so they should look fancier. But they can't look too fancy or they might overshadow the main characters and the supporting cast. So simple, but brighter colors, maybe gold or silver accents-

Nathaniel was poking her again.

She looked over to see intricate drawings of brambling bushes. Probably for the forest scene. "Yeah, looks good."

She turned away.

Now she knew Chase didn't want her to make any costumes, but surely he would give an exception for Belle's iconic gown. She couldn't imagine finding anything on that scale in a thrift store, and costume stores would likely make it with cheap fabric that would look awful on stage... She also really wanted to make a Disney princess ball gown. She's never had reason to spend money on making one before, but suddenly she had the perfect excuse. Once she got all the other costumes out of the way, with careful budgeting and planning, she should have enough money left over to make a beautiful gown with embroidery patterns, a corset, maybe even a fascinator... Oh she needed to sketch this out! What was Belle's main imagery in the movie, intelligence? Books? How well would that translate into some sort of symbol she could embroider onto the dress-

She heard someone muttering next to her.

-Oh! Roses! Of course, how could she forget roses? Maybe she could also include some sort of mirror design, Belle has a magic mirror in the movie, but it's not that important. She should make the embroidery floss a shiny gold, so it catches the stage lights better. The dress needs to look somewhat historically accurate, while also being manageable onstage...

"-inette...? Marinette!"

"Hmm?" Mari only half paid attention to Nathaniel's drawing. She wished she hadn't left her own sketchbook at home. "Nice."

Now should she make the dress poofy with hoops or with tulle or organza? No, the organza should be over the top if anything...

Marinette didn't notice Nathaniel leave.

. . .

The fluttering of butterflies in Nathaniel's stomach seemed to never settle down.

He's been working on these set designs since he showed up to the last meeting. He wasn't going to do the extra credit at first, but then Marc eventually convinced him to at least show up once. He was planning on leaving early because, while Marc was his best friend, their interests didn't always align. And sitting through an hour and a half meeting about the most unappealing thing he could think of (performing live on stage. He got hives just thinking about an audience) was not what he called 'a fun time.'

But then he caught sight of Marinette, sitting in the front row of seats, dutifully scribbling her ideas in a notebook.

And he suddenly had a reason to stay.

He didn't know when it happened. It was subtle, he thought, until one day he saw her and realized his heart was beating like he was a timid rabbit. Like he was about to go on a rollercoaster. Or just got off of one. And the moment Marc found out (because he always did), it was over for Nathaniel. And the teasing wouldn't stop. But Marc teased him on the regular, so that wasn't anything new. It was just something he had to live with.

So he worked on the set designs to impress his crush, with the added bonus of extra credit.

-Ignore the fact that he had a few pencil sketches of her face. He's not going to show her those, because even he knows it looks a little creepy-

A week of him scrounging up courage to talk to her led to yet another week of him working up the courage to show her the set designs.

And he did and when he heard the words "Oh that looks great!" he got a little excited and showed her the next one.

And was met with a simple "looks good."

Did she not like it? He guess it was simpler than the castle design, but she hardly reacted to it. Was she getting annoyed by him? He probably should leave her alone then- but-

He had one last picture, one last chance.

He poked her to get her attention. But she didn't even twitch. Was she ignoring him?

"Marinette?" His voice had cracked and he cringed. But he had been too quiet. She must not have heard him. He raised his voice. "Marinette? Marinette!"

She startled and looked over at him. He shakily showed his design of Gaston's bar. But she hardly spared a glance at it before responding with a single "nice." And then she looked away.

He was annoying her. She obviously didn't want to talk to him. She was only being polite when he showed her the castle. His drawings were ugly-

Those were the thoughts that filled his head as he left the room, clutching his sketchbook to his chest. He gripped his pen with enough force that his knuckles went white.

How could he be so dumb?

He needs to fix this- he needs to make up for this-

Something washed over him.

It took away his frantic thoughts, calmed his butterflies.

It left him with just one thing to focus on.

He needed Marinette, just for a night. He needed to fix this disaster.

But how?

"Evillustrator, I can give you exactly what you. Not only am I a patron of the arts, but I too understand what it feels like to be crushed by love. All I need in return for your perfect night is Ladybug's and Chat Noir's miraculous."

"I think I've found my inspiration."

. . .

Marinette heard knocking.

She lifted her head from her desk, eyes bleary and confused. She pulled a stray paper that was plastered to her cheek.

She heard knocking. Her window was dark, only light from the streetlamps making through. Her lamp was on, but the rest of her room was cast into shadows. How late was it? How long did she nap for?

She looked down at her sketchbook, at the half finished Belle dress she didn't remember marking up. Then she looked over to where Tikki usually slept, only to find her gone. Why was she hiding?

Well, Marinette heard knocking, so she guessed it made sense.

"Come in?" She called out hesitantly.

It wasn't her parents coming in from the trapdoor.

It was her window getting erased from existence, leaving a gaping hole in Marinette's wall. The hazy night sky and the city lights cast shadows over the figure.

The akuma stepped into Mari's room, into the light, letting her get a good view of his artist beret, the scarlet hair, ashy skin and the strange striped jumpsuit. He had a domino mask of his own -with the stylized shape of a butterfly.

"N-Nathaniel..?" Marinette questioned, just about leaping from her chair. Her fight or flight activated, and she began to focus. Why on earth would an akuma bother her, as a civilian?

"Not anymore," His voice was soft, but not... threatening. "You can call me Evillustrator, and I'm here to take you on a date."

A date? What-?

Marinette froze.

This is a disaster. If she was on a date with the akuma (that sounded wrong), how in the world was Ladybug supposed to free the akuma? Not only that, but she could become a hostage if Na- Evillustrator- got too upset.

"Is something wrong?" Evillustrator questioned, then he glowered. "Did someone bother you? I can take care of them for you."

"N-no! Not at all!" Marinette nearly shouted, hands waving frantically. "I just need to get ready!"

Evillustrator coughed and his cheeks darkened. "R-right. I'll just... wait."

He stepped back out into the night and a few seconds later, an elaborate fogged window patched the hole in her wall.

She retreated over to her vanity, pulling out her phone. She went over to the meme channel under the Ladyblog. There were so many trolls there, the message would fly under the radar. Hopefully they read it, because she could not do this on her own without completely exposing her identity.

Marinette could only hope.

. . .

I got interrupted halfway through my math homework by the Ladyblog.

Considering I had blocked all notifications from it, other that others contacting me directly and akuma alerts, I checked my phone and saw this:

Polkadots4Ever: Sh4d0wD3m0n Me0w0 HELP! Emergency! There's an akuma attack with a civilian. I CAN'T make it. He's not aggressive yet, but I don't know what's going on. Go to the bakery near the eiffel tower. You know the one.

WhiskerMeAway: Polkadots4Ever Oooooh, where?

Chumpchamp: WhiskerMeAway Just how gullible are you? A superhero would never just ditch an akuma fight. Also Ghost hasn't been confirmed to officially be working with LB and CN

The bakery near the Eiffel Tower... which one was that-

Wait.

Marinette!

Was the akuma holding her hostage? Her parents?! That's an actual war crime.

"Knight, we have to go! The bakery is in danger!"

f̷u҉n̶

"Void Rise!"

In a flash (more of an anti-flash really, my transformation didn't emit light), Ghost took my place and silence took my voice.

I let out a breath and shook my head. Hopefully this akuma was like Mr. Pigeon.

Considering Ladybug took the night off, I didn't have high hopes.

. . .

Adrien stared at the message.

The bakery near the Eiffel tower?

Was that the one that Ladybug got snacks from during patrol?

. . .

The Dupan-Cheng bakery wasn't too far from my house, and the distance was basically negligible when accounting for the fact that I had superpowers.

I turned around a building's corner onto the street, only to duck back.

There was an elegant staircase leading up to Marinette's window that definitely wasn't there last time I checked. And standing just outside the window was a superhero knockoff, complete with anime hair and an ugly jumpsuit.

He was facing away from the window -which was looking significantly more extravagant than I remembered. He didn't appear to be on lookout, more like he was waiting awkwardly for something. Or someone.

He wasn't even doing anything... nefarious.

Whatever. At least he didn't spot me.

The streets were empty, which was good. People must have avoided the area once they figured out the staircase wasn't there because the Dupain-Chengs decided to remodel their house. That meant there wouldn't be any civilians in the way, but it also meant I didn't really have anything to hide behind to get a closer look.

Except...

I looked down at my clothes. It was all cool, dark colors- stuff that blends in perfectly at night. Other than my bone white mask. I don't think I needed much cover in order to sneak up on a bored, evil teenager who was only paying half paying attention to his surroundings.

The only problem was that Chat Noir still hadn't shown his face yet-

"What's up, Ghost!"

Ah.

I snapped my head up and spotted the cat themed superhero peeking his head over the edge of the building above me. Of course he took the roof route.

He extended his baton and slid down it like a fireman's pole, landing next to me with hardly a thump. His grin was frustratingly bright and oddly familiar- he didn't need to look so pleased with himself over a dumb pun.

"Where's the aku-"

I took great pleasure in slapping my hand over his mouth. Then I pointed around the corner at the very obvious akuma. The akuma might be oblivious, but I didn't want to risk Chat Noir's loudmouth giving our position away.

I wrinkled my nose when I felt Chat Noir try to lick my hand. I had gloves as part of my superhero costume suit thing, so it was ineffective, but the audacity offended me. Here I was, trying to warn him, and he goes and repays me by doing that. I huff silently. What a brat.

He pushes my hand away and gags. "Eck, what is on those gloves? They taste nasty!"

He was quieter, at least.

"You look beautiful."

Chat Noir and I both stilled. I peeked back around the corner, Chat just behind me.

There, standing just outside of the now open window, was both the akuma and Marinette. She looked nervous, eyes darting back and forth, arms folded, posture stiff. She was wearing a simple yellow dress instead of her normal outfit.

Was the akuma taking Marinette on a date?

"Marinette?" Chat whispered incredulously. I nodded in agreement, missing the fact that he knew her name.

"Thanks." Her smile was forced.

Holy crap he was.

"Are you ready to go?" The akuma asked. What a gentleman. I'd say he had more manners than most kids these days, but he was technically kidnapping her.

"You haven't told me where we are going." Marinette countered.

Chat Noir tugged on my arm. "We have to save her!" He whispered.

I nodded. Obviously. Nothing was worse then getting kidnapped, other then getting kidnapped to go on a date.

"...so what's the plan?" Chat continued.

Why was I the plan person now?

...Good thing I brought my chalk.

. . .

We followed the akuma to the Seine.

The akuma spent several minutes messing with something on his wrist. Was that a tablet and a stylus?

Ok, so he was drawing pictures. That must have something to do with his superpower. I recalled the elaborate staircase and window on Marinette's house. Did his drawings... turn into reality?

That was overpowered: the only thing that limited him was his imagination!

But he was pretty distracted by Marinette, and it clearly took some time to draw things. So maybe if we played this right... we could end it quickly, without a fight.

An ornate boat popped into existence in the water.

I was glad Marinette was distracting him, otherwise the akuma would have spent so much more time setting up traps for the superheroes, for us.

Chat Noir and I stayed silent even as Marinette hesitantly took the akuma's hand and stepped gingerly into the boat. She was still looking around - either nervously or in awe of the beauty of her surroundings. It didn't particularly matter why, when she was facing me and the akuma wasn't.

I let myself be seen, and nodded once. Her shoulders slumped a bit in relief. And the akuma was none the wiser that his date was about to be ruined. Marinette was a better actor than I gave her credit for.

This was, ultimately, a stealth mission. Fortunately, both Chat Noir and I were practically built for sneaking around. With his black suit and my drab colors, we blended in with the night like we belonged. And, contrary to his whole pun-lord shtick, Chat did know how to keep quiet.

So the akuma didn't even have a chance to react -probably too busy staring into Marinette's eyes- when I snuck up and landed a kick on his wrist (thank you Master Fu).

The pen was sent flying from his hand. In the same moment, Chat Noir brutally shoved him into the chilly water.

The pen hit the floor of the boat with a clatter and started rolling along the curved bottom. I plucked it up and snapped it in half.

A black butterfly escaped and my mind went blank. Didn't Ladybug usually snatch it up, purify it?

Oh crap. That's what I forgot.

Marinette squeaked. "I-I got to go!"

Oh crap, frickin' frick. This wasn't good at all. The butterfly was already flying away. If we lost that thing, it was going to freaking multiply and turn another hundred people into hopeless romantic artists with superpowers. Except next time he wasn't going to fall for a sneak attack.

While I was panicking, Chat Noir had fished out the now civilian, confused and thoroughly soaked Nathaniel from the Seine river.

"Cats hate water, ya know!" He complained, oblivious to the impending disaster.

I shook him by the shoulders.

"What?" He frowned.

I gestured wildly at the butterfly, calmly flying away.

"Oh!" His eyes widened. "Cataclysm!"

He lunged and plucked it from the air, and it crumbled into dust. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Sweet!" He grinned.

I tilted my head at him.

"I had no idea that would work!" He cheerfully explained.

. . .

Nathaniel apologized to her about fifty times the next day.

Marinette felt bad. He had gotten akumatized because he had a crush on her and she had been distracted by her own thoughts. And she had no idea that Nathaniel had a crush on her until he got akumatized because of it.

"Girl" Alya raised an eyebrow, "it was so obvious. He literally went to every meeting and just kinda.. stared at you. Not creepily, just..."

"I don't know." Mari bit her lip. "It's just, he never talked to me. And whenever he did, he was just really... Shy? Yeah, shy."

How was she supposed to know he liked her when he practically avoided her and-

Her eyes widened. She felt her mind expand. She slowly looked over at Adrien, then back to Alya.

"He has no idea that I like him."

Alya nodded sympathetically and patted her on the back.

. . .

"Tikki, why did you tell me I was the only one who could purify the akumas?"

Tikki over to Marinette. "That's because you are."

Her holder had a creased brow and was biting her lip. "What? But Chat Noir-"

"What Chat Noir did was not purification, it was destruction... Which is technically a form of purification, in that it purges the darkness from this world." Tikki explained. "However, your form of purification purges the darkness from the butterfly that lies host to Hawkmoth's sorcery."

Marinette tilted her head. "First off, what's the difference? Secondly: Hawkmoth's sorcery?"

Tikki floated silently for a short while, but for her an eternity passed in that one moment. She remembered being sealed away by the Guardians, who said it was too dangerous for her to be on this realm with dark, evil magic corrupting Them. Twisting Them into something unrecognizable. Something... Monstrous.

"Hawkmoth is not a simple miraculous user," Tikki explained softly. "He has found a book of dark magic. I do not know how or where he found it, but it is full of spells that bind a kwami to one's will completely, forcing them to be unable to refuse any command giver by their holder. It twists the kwami's being, and grants the user power beyond the normal capacity."

"That's- That's awful..." Marinette whispered, eyes wide.

"Indeed it is." Tikki nodded gravely. "It can damage a kwami's very Essence."

"What kind of monster does something like that?"

"Greed, Powerlust, Anger... Ignorance. There are many things that drive people to do unspeakable things."

Marinette said nothing.

"Now," Tikki began again, "the difference between purification by Destruction and purification by Cleansing is that Cleansing merely severs the ties between the dark magic and what it's bound to, leaving the contaminated being free again. Destruction... destroys it all: the darkness, the corruption, but also the innocent."

"Nooroo, Hawkmoth's kwami, is tied to those butterflies you normally free. They are part of his magic and when you destroy them..."

"He gets hurt."

Sorry for taking a while (am I seriously going to apologise after every chapter? Yeah, probably).

I started college and an internship. Woooo!

How'd you like the chapter?

Rate the lore drops so far? What's your favorite lore in this fic? What do you want and/or are excited to see?