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Chapter Text

I heard my parents retreating from my room after leaving me a plate of my favorite pastries and assurances that I had their support. Finally I was left alone with Tikki in my too pink room with too many memories.

My day had been such a blur. I don’t even remember how I got home. All that was playing through my mind was the representation of the wreckage of my relationships with Bustier’s homeroom class.

Junior year was supposed to be the fun before the final year of school, before university. I had hoped to spend this time with friends while building my portfolio and name as a fashion designer. Lila had effectively ruined that dream with whispered words and twisted rumors. She warped all attempts to out her into some kind of attack against her reputation and painted me as a jealous bully. When Adrien made me promise to leave her be, I had done so thinking that the lies would eventually die down.

As if summoned by my thoughts my phone began to trill the tune assigned to Adrien’s name. My heart lurched as I launched myself at the electronic device. “H-Hello Adrien.”

“Marinette! I heard what happened today. Are you okay?” His sweet voice spilled from the speaker like honey.

‘He cares! He is worried about me!’ I cleared my dry throat and tried to sound happy. I didn’t want him to know just how hard I had been crying since I ran from school. “I’m… I’m not…. It’s a lot to process.”

He sighed in relief. “You’re okay then. That’s good to hear.”

I flinched, but didn’t correct him. I wasn’t okay. Lila had crossed a line today. She may not have been physically involved, but I knew she was the mastermind behind the mayhem of today’s latest incident.

Adrien continued talking. “It really sucks what happened, but you can always make another one.”

I watched Tikki swallow another Akuma and fought the rage back into the pits of my subconscious. “Adrien, that dress took months for me to make. In addition, that dress just so happened to be a commission piece for Clara Nightingale who so graciously allowed me to use it as my final art project! She needs that dress in two weeks, Adrien! And thanks to Lila and whoever she manipulated into helping her, the dress in nothing but scraps! How am I supposed to turn in a pile of scraps to Clara Nightingale?”

“Calm down, Marinette. I’m sure you can whip up another one!”

That thoughtless statement sent a chill down my spine. “Another… Adrien, do you know how much those materials cost me? I can’t afford to make another dress! Not the money or the time. Each petal of the skirt was hand embroidered, Adrien! Do you know how many petals there were? I can tell you with 100% accuracy that it was 170. That’s a lot of embroidery! I can’t just redo that in the span of two weeks! This is going to ruin me!”

Adrien’s soft voice tried to placate me through the phone. “I’m sure Clara will understand. If Alya had known it was for her, I’m sure she would have never touched it.”

I froze entirely, my muscles locking up at the insinuation that Alya had been the one to destroy the dress. “Alya was the one who tore up my commission?”

“Well her, Kim, Alix, and Sabrina. I heard Lila talking to them about it this morning. I think she claimed that you had stolen the dress from her or something like that. I never thought they’d actually go through with it. If I did, I swear I would have talked them out of tearing up your dress.” I felt my rose tinted view of the blond boy begin to crack as I came to understand just what he had done, or more aptly didn't do.

He knew. Adrien knew since this morning what my friends had been planning. He heard them planning to rip up my art project. “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

“It’s not like they were being quiet about it. I think the whole class heard them and I thought they might say something.” Adrien’s attempt to cast off blame was weak and pathetic. “Besides, it’s not like anybody got hurt.”

My vision seemed to shatter as the love induced haze on my heart broke and left me staggering into the harsh light of reality. “What did I ever see in you?”

He paused. “I’m sorry?”

My fists clenched tight enough that my nails dug into the skin of my palms. The painful sting kept me grounded. “Nobody got hurt? Are you fucking delusional? I’m hurt, Adrien! That dress wasn’t just an art project, it was a paid commission! By tearing it apart, Lila and her fucking pack of mindless dogs have attacked my very career! How am I supposed to tell Clara Nightingale that the music awards dress she paid for has been obliterated by my spiteful, moronic classmates that would believe a demented liar if she told them she walked on the sun? This could fucking destroy my fashion career, you spineless gargoyle! How could you do this to me?!”

Agreste sputtered over the phone. “Wha… but… They didn’t mean it, Marinette. Once they realize Lila has been lying, I’m sure they’ll apologize.”

My whole being burned with unyielding rage at his senseless commentary. “Saying you’re sorry doesn’t mend your mother's favorite vase after you break it, you insufferable bastard! I could call Clara right now and apologize until I’m blue in the face, but that won’t magically fix the dress the people I used to call friends ripped up on behalf of a liar!”

“Marinette, I hope you’re not thinking of exposing her. We can’t let her get akumatized.” His voice took on that disappointed tone that had once overwhelmed me with guilt. Now it only served to fan the flames of my fury.

“So I’m supposed to swallow down this injustice and go back to school with a smile on face and thank Alya for ruining my career? Her feelings are not the only ones that matter! I'm practically Akuma bait right now because of what she's done! But who gives a shit if anyone gets mind fucked by Cockmoth so long as it's not Lila, right?!” His silence spoke volumes. “Fuck you, Agreste.”

I hung up before he could respond. I didn’t want to hear another long winded rant about his precious high road. The phone began to ring as he tried reaching out again. Not only did I dismiss it, but I blocked the number entirely.

Fuck Adrien Agreste and the high horse he rode in on to Hell and back.

A flutter in the corner of my eye caught my attention. When I focused on the subject, I felt my heart drop into my stomach. Dozens of pictures littered the cork board above my desk. Photos of my classmates, posed and candid, taken from places around Paris. Some were silly with tongues sticking out and others where the subjects were focused on other tasks. Marinette was in quite a few of them, under an arm of a close friend or smiling in front of a monument in the center of a beaming group. All of the photos displaying my once active social life now a memorial to the once was and have beens.

My bluebell eyes scanned every still face, searching for any kind of clue of deceit or dishonesty. We had all once been so happy. It was obvious to see the good will and friendship in each photo, the trust we had in one another. How could things have gone so wrong?

And Adrien. His face was everywhere in my room. My safe space, my haven and retreat from the world, was practically an homage to the blond cretin that had stood by and done nothing to stop Lila’s reign over my class.

I felt like a passenger in my own body as it stalked over to the cork board and began tearing down the pictures and magazine cutouts with fervent haste. Everything that reminded me of those traitors and backstabbers was stripped from my walls and drawers and found themselves in trash bags. The trunk full of presents I had obsessively made for Adrien’s future birthdays was removed and set aside to be catalogued and sold on my fashion website. By the time I was finished, school had long since been let out and my room was free of offensive material. I took the bag of photos and hauled them up to my balcony. One final act to solidify my stance in my mind.

Tikki hovered close by, a comforting presence, as I took out the first picture. It was the day of Alix’s skating race. A civilian who had been watching the race had been kind enough to take the picture of our entire class. I was holding up the banner I had made for Alix. Everyone looked so happy, even Kim who had been soundly defeated. Adrien stood just behind me, smiling at the camera and happy to be amongst friends.

Fingering the surface, I took out the lighter I had on hand to light my candles. Tikki gasped and flew in close to hover over the photo. “What are you doing, Marinette?”

I pulled the lighter away from her tiny body, unwilling to risk hurting the Kwami. “I need to do this, Tikki.”

She placed her tiny paws on the edge of the picture and stared up at me with a sad but understanding gaze. "I know it hurts right now, Marinette. You worked hard on that dress and they had no right to touch it, but are you sure you want to do this?”

I used my thumb to ignite the flame. “I’m burning the bridges they broke first. I gave them several chances, tried to warn them, and they refused to believe me. They ripped up my dress and those that didn’t stood by and let it happen. They are no friends of mine.”

Tikki and I watched as the flames consumed the printed faces in silence. When the photo was nothing but ash, I moved on to the next one. And the next. I watched in detached satisfaction as the physical snap shots of bittersweet memories burned to ash much like my friendships.

There was nothing left but an empty trash bag and a pile of soot by the time mom called me down for dinner.

“What are you going to do now, Marinette?” Tikki asked in concern.

Plans started forming in my mind, all the things that needed to be done and the many paths that could help me achieve my goals. “After dinner, I’ll call Clara and get the ball rolling to pursue a lawsuit against the bastards that thought it would be funny to destroy a €15,800 dress. Then I’m going to do my damn best to blacklist everyone involved in this act of vandalism. I’m going to show Lila that she fucked with the wrong girl.”

Chapter Text

Clara Nightingale was horrified to learn of the state of her music awards dress but more than understanding. “Marinette, my dear, you’re so sweet and true. It’s not your fault and I don’t blame you. I’m sad to hear of this vile blunder. I’ll bury the culprits six feet under!”

I had to wait until after lunch to return to school the next day with Clara’s team of bloodthirsty lawyers and some of the city’s finest detectives to attend me. Getting access to yesterday’s cameras was easy when you had enough money to throw around and a warrant. While the nice officers acquired and looked over the footage of the art hallway, another officer and Clara’s savage lawyer escorted me to class where my enabler of a teacher was forced to sit and watch as the salt and pepper haired detective intimidated the class. "Good afternoon, students. I am detective Lorenzo. Yesterday on the school grounds, a serious crime was committed and I have reason to believe that the perpetrators are in this class."

He was cut off by an angry and excited Alya who was already pointing her finger at me. "If you're talking about theft of intellectual property, Marinette stole Lila's design and tried to turn it in for a grade!"

That's when the middle aged woman dressed in a tailored pantsuit worth more than all of my classmates' wardrobes combined (excluding Chloe and Adrien) stepped up. Her platinum blonde hair was in a severe updo that flaunted her steel grey stare and pointed features. "That's quite the accusation. Do you have any proof?"

I noticed the nervous glaze in Lila's green eyes as Alya pursued her friend's justice. "Of course I do! Lila showed me the drawing of the design yesterday!"

The sharp eyed blonde smiled most sadistically as the lawyer launched her attack with her file full of evidence I relinquished to the team. "Really? Well I suppose that this folder full of emails and print outs between mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng and my client which consists of an agreement to a commission, several concept designs of the dress in question, pictures of fabric swatches, and the pattern this young lady constructed herself just couldn't compare to such hard evidence like a flimsy drawing that could have easily been made after having seen it being delivered to the art room."

I watched as looks of confusion dawned on several faces as suspicious glances were cast in Lila's direction. Alix and Sabrina jolted anxiously in their seats as they finally registered my side of the story. Adrien was shooting me a pleading stare as he silently begged me to put a stop to the impending tidal wave of reality, but it was far too late for that now. Had Lila not targeted my commission, she could have very well maintained her web of lies. Clara Nightingale paid for that dress that took months to make. Lila had dug her own grave and it was very likely that she would be taking a few others down with her.

Alya, too deeply entrenched in Lila's deceit, dug in her heels. "Well she probably stole the pattern too!"

"That's enough." Detective Lorenzo held up a hand and silenced the class. "I don't think you all understand the severity of the crime. The dress that was destroyed just yesterday was not just some run of the mill school project. You see, any property destroyed with a value below €500 is considered a pretty crime. A misdemeanor like that ends with a fine to cover the cost of the property damaged and jail time at the worst. However, in this case, that dress was worth almost €16,000."

There were horrified gasps of shock at the staggering price the man listed off so nonchalantly. Only Chloe seemed unperturbed by the price if mildly stunned that I had made something of such value, and Adrien who was still imploring me with his emerald green eyes to fix the mess Lila had made.

Lorenzo continued to explain just how badly they fucked up. "That is definitely a lot more than €500, and carries a far heftier punishment up to and including prison time for such a felony. Now I don’t mind going through every last scrap of evidence to find the perpetrators of this vile act of malicious vandalism, but Madam Leblanc and I are willing to bargain a plea deal if anyone wants to confess to the crime. In addition, those of you who may have heard the schemers plotting their act of vandalism are expected to tell the truth. I can understand not coming forward with information to prevent such a crime from being committed. I’ve seen many accounts of the bystander effect in action. However, if you lie to an officer about what you heard or saw to protect yourself and I find out about it, Madam Leblanc is more than happy to include you as an accessory to malicious destruction of property in Madam Nightingale’s lawsuit.”

Lila shot to her feet. “Now wait just a second! I have diplomatic immunity! You need my mom's permission to even be in the same room as me!”

Sabrina gulped and raised her hand. "We are minors, sir, and therefore you need permission from our parents or guardians to interrogate us."

Madam Leblanc’s grin was bone chilling. “Why do you think we arrived so late? The officers have been most diligently contacting each and every last one of your guardians and requesting permission to question you. After explaining the situation, all of your parents were more than willing to grant us consent. However, I do believe we are still waiting as some of them wanted to be present during the interrogations.”

Not two seconds later, a familiar man waltzed through the door. Alix’s baby blues widened as she gulped in fear of her father’s presence in the classroom. He pinned his daughter with such a gaze of disappointed ire that she lowered her head in shame. He spotted me and bowed his head in greeting wearing an apologetic frown. “I heard of what happened to your project, Marinette. I hope that my daughter’s testimony can help you find the criminals that vandalized your hard work.”

I didn't say anything. If what Adrien had said was true, he would learn soon enough just how close Alix was to the crime. The aloof and austere Nathalie Sancoeur came up behind M. Kubdel with her ever present tablet in tow. “Adrien, I am here to act as your guardian during your session with the detectives.”

More and more adults showed up to sit with their respective children and clients. A refined woman with auburn hair and cold jade green eyes strutted through the door and seemed to share a nod of acknowledgement with Madam Leblanc as she took her spot at Chloe’s side. Even Madam Lê Chiến Cam made an appearance. For someone only a hair taller than my own mother, the lithe housewife was a force to be reckoned with when she got angry. Kim was beginning to sweat as his situation finally caught up to him. It upset me greatly when it finally clicked that he was one of the people that tore up the dress. We had been friends since we were in diapers. I thought he knew me better than that. Then again, Lila had proven just how unreliable my classmates were as friends through her manipulations. Perhaps she had wound up helping me in some twisted way.

“Now this is how it’s going to go down.” Detective Lorenzo started. “You all are going to be questioned in alphabetical order. I will lead you outside when it is your turn while my partner, Gros, will watch over you. You all will remain silent as you patiently wait your turn. Once I’m done questioning you, you are free to go home with your parents. I’m sure you all will have loads to talk about.”

I had turned to spot the tall and dreadfully imposing man by the name of Gros wondering when he had entered the room. He was almost as tall as my dad and twice as intimidating as Lorenzo. He looked as if he would be at home on a Spartan battlefield with the slashed scar across his broad face. I couldn’t tell from the shadows cast by his brow, but his eyes looked brown from a distance.

Before the detective could call out the first name, Chloe rose from her seat with the air of a conquering queen. “I volunteer to go first!”

Lorenzo lifted an eyebrow but didn’t voice an objection. The blonde and her lawyer followed the man out the door leaving me to brave the tense atmosphere. As expected, Alya lurched to her feet as soon as the door was shut. “WHAT THE SHIT, MARI-?!”

The strong hand of her father knocked her back down to her seat and shut her up. Otis glared at his daughter with such anger that the brunette hung her head in silence.

Anarka Couffaine, she who detested law enforcement, lounged next to her jittery daughter. “So Marinette. I know ye to be a good and kind hearted lass. What exactly prompted this whole hellfest?”

Madam Leblanc answered for me. “Clara Nightingale commissioned young mademoiselle to craft a special dress for an upcoming red carpet event, and paid over €15,000 for it upfront. Not having time to make it and construct a last minute change in syllabus of her art class, Marinette requested and received permission from mlle. Nightingale to use the commission as her final art project. She brought it to the classroom in the morning and returned after lunch to find the dress ripped to shreds and desecrated with spray paint and other artistic materials.”

Several of the adults drew back in astonishment. Officer Raincomprix, who was not included in the case for his relation to one of the suspects, looked down at his daughter’s tight shoulders. “And you have reason to believe that it was someone in this class that tore up the dress?”

Leblanc arched a perfectly sculpted brow, but said no more. The door opened and Lorenzo called out for Adrien. Nathalie waited for a still silently pleading Adrien to join her at the door. He trudged out slowly, shooting me glances that I happily ignored. The door shut behind him and the room was cast back into silence.

Time passed slowly as one by one my classmates were pulled out for questioning. Ivan Bruel and his gentle faced mother. Alya Césaire and her zoo keeper father. Juleka Couffaine and the musically inclined anarchist, Anarka. Mylène Haprèle and her mime father. Max Kanté and his programmer father as his mother was currently training to be an astronaut. Alix Kubdel and her curator for the Louvre father. Nathaniel Kurtzberg and his family lawyer. Nino Lahiffe and his wedding planner mother. Rose Lavillant and her photographer mother. Lê Chiến Kim and his glowering mom. Sabrina Raincomprix and her policeman dad. Until finally Lila Rossi was escorted out of the room with her less than impatient mother.

A commotion outside drew my attention to see Alya getting dragged by her ear down the street as her father stomped and stormed his way home. Juleka was receiving the same treatment from her own mother as Anarka threw a bitch fit of the likes I thought only Chloe capable of as she berated her child. Chloe was off to the side speaking with her lawyer and was obviously waiting to see more of her classmates get yelled at in public.

Just as I had hoped, things had been sent into motion that should have been started long ago when Lila first started spreading her lies. It’s a shame that some of my classmates would suffer, but they brought this on themselves. To attack my education is one thing, I could just go to another school…. I should have gone to another school. To attack my career and reputation as a designer was a line Lila should have never crossed.

I jumped at the gentle hand that fell upon my shoulder. Madam Leblanc did not seem the comforting type, but her genuine eyes gave meaning to her rigid smile. “Don’t pity them, young mademoiselle. They are in the wrong here, not you. You owe them nothing.”

“No. I really don’t.” I agreed softly and returned my gaze to the window and the street below. Monsieur Raincomprix was uncharacteristically distant as he walked to his cruiser. Alim Kubdel acted in much the same manner as he hailed a taxi wearing a stormy expression of barely suppressed rage. His daughter and Sabrina was nowhere in sight. Probably in police custody. I didn’t care to know anymore.

The sight of Lila getting pulled by the ear by her own mother was well worth the heartache I would suffer in the near future. Madam Rossi looked to be screaming in a rage at her daughter. I don’t know what had gone down in the interrogation, but surely all of her little fibs I mentioned to the detectives were brought up for review.

“Marinette, why would you do something like this? I trusted you to be a good example.” Bustier appeared to have recovered from her shock and was prepared to tear me down with more guilt trips.

Leblanc moved to shield me from my teacher. “Mlle. Dupain-Cheng is pursuing her right to sue the people that vandalized her property, Madam Nightingale’s since she is the one who paid for it actually.”

I spotted the speck of darkness fluttering closer and closer to the Rossi pair. Irritating, but not unexpected. “Pardon me while I use the restroom.”

Leblanc nodded at me. “I do believe that you’ve provided enough to the detectives today. Go home and rest. I’ll contact you once I get the paperwork needed to press charges.”

Bustier squawked in distress. “Marinette! You must fix this…”

“Goodbye, Madam Bustier.” Only two more weeks of school and I would never have to deal with her again. After this whole shit show, I might just take up online schooling rather than return to this Petri dish of campus.

Chapter Text

Madam Rossi proved to be quite the formidable opponent, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. Chat Noir seemed off his game the entire fight and had ended with him getting smacked around more often than usual. The battle ended with Lucky Charm mop and an orange jacket borrowed from a pedestrian.

I returned home feeling lighter than I have in years. I had blocked my classmates' numbers so there were no nasty or pleading messages waiting for me. No one was lying in wait at my house. The ball was rolling towards a lawsuit of gigantic proportions.

Things were looking up.

The thump on my balcony stated that I spoke too soon. Chat Noir tapped on the glass above my bed. I didn’t want to let him in as he had been acting pouty the whole fight, but I knew he wouldn’t go away.

At least he considered me a friend if the spare times he’s spent on my balcony with me is anything to go by. For all his love declarations to Ladybug, he had a good heart and always managed to make me feel better. Perhaps a rooftop session with Chat Noir would help after all.

I climbed up to unlatch the window and lifted myself onto the roof balcony. Chat didn’t offer the usual helping hand which set off an alarm in my head that I shook off in favor of the few memories we shared up here. Maybe he was still huffy from the fight with Senora Sincero was a tough one and my partner had seemed on edge the whole time. I assumed he was hungry or busy. There was a time when I had found him curled up on my lounge seat begging for pain au chocolat.

“You need to call off the lawsuit.” Chat Noir bit out before I had even climbed to my feet.

The sentence reverberated in my skull taking more than a few seconds to sink in and catch me up on my partner’s aggressive stance and tone. I found my equilibrium quickly as my mental defences slammed into place. “Are you talking about the case against Liar-la and the rest of my class?”

His head jerked in a sharp nod. “I had to handle a really difficult Akuma because of this lawsuit and there will only be more to come. If you revoke your statement, everything will go back to normal and we won’t have to risk our necks taking on dangerous Akumas.”

The sheer audacity of that statement made my entire being burn with rage. How dare he tell me to back down just so he wouldn’t have to break a nail over an Akuma fight! I had to fight to keep my voice low and steady. “There are so many things wrong with what you just said that I could write an entire book. First off, it’s not my lawsuit. Clara Nightingale is the one pursuing charges and I’m helping her. Secondly, you’ve got some nerve asking me to revoke my statements and swallow my pride when my classmates are in the wrong! It’s going to be a nightmare to make Clara a dress one third as nice as the one those assholes tore up, and it’s all Lila’s fault! She and her dogs deserve to be punished for all the shit they’ve pulled. And finally; you are a hero! You and Ladybug both swore to protect this city! How fucking dare you stand there and lay the fault at my feet when Hawkmoth is the one taking advantage of people’s emotions! Even if - even if! - I was to make the lawsuit go away, that’s not going to stop Hawkmoth from akumatizing someone else. Cockmoth has been terrorizing Paris for almost four years and he’s not going to stop because I decided to imitate a doormat and let Liar-la and her mindless sheep walk all over me! If you don’t want to fight any of the Akumas that are surely to come from this case, then I’m sure Ladybug could find another Cat to help her! Hell, I’ll don the Mouse Miraculous again if it means I get to beat the shit out of those mindless sheeple that threatened my career!”

Chat had begun to back up as soon as I started storming forward mid-rant. At my demand to renounce his Miraculous, he jumped to defend himself. “Hey now! I’ve spent years defending this city! Who are you to tell me to quit?”

I snarled in his face in a manner befitting a panther. “One of the civilians you promised to protect. If you’re going to berate me for pursuing my justice, then you are not the hero I thought you were. Does Ladybug even know you’re here?”

He hesitated, then lied straight to my face. “Yeah, she does. She agrees with me that this lawsuit of yours is a bad idea.”

Choking down my fury, my voice came out clipped and cold. “Bull. Shit.”

“I’m sorry?” His ears pricked up and flattened close to his hair.

I stabbed at his leather covered chest with an accusatory finger. “I said bullshit! Ladybug stands for justice, and I am seeking justice for wrongs done against me!”

Chat Noir bristled but didn’t move to displace my hand. “Not when it gives us more work, Marinette! Can you not be selfish and think about other people’s feelings for once?!”

My hand moved so quickly I didn’t even know I had punched the hero until he cried out in shock. He was clutching his nose and my knuckles were starting to throb. I didn’t see any sign of blood and I couldn’t bring myself to regret the strike. My voice was calm and cold, dripping with venom with every syllable as I addressed the whimpering boy. “How dare you. All I have ever done is think about everyone else. For years I have set aside my own anxieties and schedule to suit the needs of my classmates. As class president, I keep up to date planners of everyone’s schedules and spend hours each day planning fundraisers and excursions for which I am never thanked. I swallow my own emotions so that others will not know of the hurt and pain they’ve caused me and do my utmost best to comfort them in an attempt to prevent another Akuma from wreaking havoc. I had a stupid crush on a boy that rarely deigns to acknowledge me that was so all encompassing, I agreed to go against my instincts and let Lila spin her web of lies without any kind of consequence. He told me that one day she would lie herself into a corner that she wouldn’t be able to escape, and I had waited patiently for that day to arrive even when Lila’s claims turned all of my friends against me. Well guess what, Chat! That day has finally come! Lila’s lies and false claims against me have landed her in a shit load of trouble, and you can bet your tight, flat ass that I am going to savor every bit of karmic justice that bitch is going to receive in the form of a lawyer and a lawsuit!”

My partner was silent as he contemplated me, his slitted green eyes roving my aggressive posture with startled disbelief. “Who are you? Where is the sweet girl I used to know? What happened to her?”

I hurriedly pushed away from the boy. I didn’t want to be near him anymore. “She got sick and tired of being used. She was pushed past her limits, and had no one to turn to when she needed help. I refuse to be that helpless doormat that does free favors for people with not even a thank you in return. They have taken my kindness for granted and everyone will learn that my generosity is not an aspect of my personality. I am under no obligation to strain myself in service of others who will not appreciate it. Now kindly take yourself and your dumbass requests off my balcony before I call for my mother, and you don’t want to know just how many forms of martial arts she knows!”

He shook his head as if he were a disappointed father. “You’re better than this, Marinette. I hope you change your mind before someone gets hurt.”

“If being better means being subservient, I’m happy like this. Say hello to Pettynette: the bitch is here to stay!” He flinched away and leaped off the roof. I glared after his retreating form, happy to see the back of Chat Noir. He would definitely be getting the ass chewing of a lifetime when Ladybug gets ahold of him.

I spent the rest of my day crafting a new dress for Clara. She still commissioned me and, by golly, she would get a red carpet worthy dress. I worked until my knuckles ached something fierce and the sun was beginning to set. My sewing came to a stop when my mother shouted for me. “Marinette, Nadja is here to see you!”

Nadja Chamack; family friend, reporter, and mother of Manon. I looked to my schedule which now took up my corkboard and saw that I had forgotten that I was supposed to babysit Manon tonight. I pushed away from my desk with an irritated grunt. With Manon over, I wouldn’t be able to work on Clara’s dress.

A reporter…

Juliet Rosen, Clara’s manager, had warned me that the lawsuit would draw a lot of media attention and that it had to be handled with care. It was important to put my best foot forward right out of the gate to prevent wild theories that would inspire conflict in the case. She said she was compiling a list of possible reporters and journalists that she trusted to tell our truth without adding any flairs for drama and views.

I whipped out my phone and pulled up Juliet’s chat box to ask about having Nadja as a potential reporter.

With her approval and a hope for a plan, I trekked downstairs and saw my mother and Nadja talking over the counter while Manon nibbled on a croissant. The purple haired woman spotted me first. Her warm smile was absent as she took in my form. “Hey there, Mari. Sabine just told me about that dress of yours. That really sucks. Glad you’re pressing charges though!”

I ruffled Manon’s hair as I walked past her and up to the counter top. “Nadja, I would like to talk to you about a potential story.”

One of her perfectly plucked eyebrows rose in interest. “Does it have anything to with this lawsuit you’re pursuing?”

“Technically, it’s Clara Nightingale’s lawsuit.” Her pupils grew bigger as she sniffed out a potential headliner. “That dress my classmates tore up was supposed to be her music awards outfit. Apparently, a classmate claimed I had stolen her design and got a few of her friends to retaliate by ripping it up.”

Nadja’s phone was out in the next second. “You don’t say.”

I wrote down Julite’s number and email and slipped her the paper. “Clara’s legal team is putting together the case, and Juliet wants to get on the media ball as soon as possible. She said you two have to negotiate appropriate questions before I’m allowed on air.”

Her pixie bob bounced along with her happy movement as she tucked the paper away safely in her phone case. “For a story like this I’ll sign away my kidneys. I’ve got a feeling this is going to be huge.”

Chapter Text

Clara had looked amazing in her Blue Rose dress, though nothing like the magnificence that was the original. Emerald green melted into cobalt blue, a halter style neckline with a keyhole showing just enough decolletage. The bodice was tight and the back low, the skirt puffing out in layers of rose petals with deep green centers that merged with the rich blues of the furled edges. A lot of the volume came from the tulle underneath and a hoop skirt that was easy to assemble. The golden metal accents and shimmering stitches were nothing compared to the intricate embroidery of its predecessor, but Clara had loved it all the same. From the compliments she had gotten on the red carpet, so had everyone else.

On the way out of the awards ceremony, she had dropped the bomb about the lawsuit to up and coming reporter, Elysia Vale. She mentioned that her dress, though amazing, had nothing on its predecessor. The media was in an uproar about the implications. All Clara said on the matter was that her designer would be on Face to Face to give all the details about the looming legal storm.

Before we were even on air, Nadja excitedly shared that the station had gotten record breaking views and the numbers were only growing. People from outside France were probably watching right now considering the sheer size of Clara Nightingale’s fan base. I wasn’t looking forward to being filmed live for all the world to see. The last time that happened, the cameramen wound up in my room.

“One minute!” A stagehand called out.

Nadja smiled warmly and patted my knee. “You’ll do fine, Mari. We went over the questions and answers. You already know what you’re going to say.”

I flashed a nervous grin. “Yeah, but this time everyone will be watching. What if I look like an idiot?”

She shook her head. “Don’t even worry about it. You look incredibly cute when you get scared, and I can play on that to make you look like an innocent school girl who was horribly wronged. It helps that it’s actually true. What that Lila did was completely uncalled for and viciously petty. I’ll make sure she and her conspirators are crucified.”

Feelings of guilt and satisfaction warred within me. On one hand, my classmates and I shared a lot of good memories together. Ever since Alya encouraged me to stand against Chloe, my life has become brighter and happier. My social circle grew and I was enjoying life. I knew they weren’t the petty, spiteful monsters that Lila had shaped them into, and they would never do something like this in their right minds. I’ve known Sabrina had done some less than notable errands for Chloe, like trying to steal my diary, but she was the daughter of an officer of the law.

On the other hand, they had known me. They knew of my dreams to become a fashion designer. They’ve all seen me sketching in my book at least once as new designs popped in my head. I’ve made hats, jewelry, and shirts for them. I made my own clothes. I won a Gabriel derby hat contest! They knew how seriously offended I got over plagiarism. Yet somehow Lila was able to convince them that I had stolen a design from her despite the fact that I have never once seen her with a sketchbook or drawing in hand ever. Instead of confronting me about it or even reporting it to a teacher, they had decided to take their own form of justice by ripping the dress apart. All of it planned within earshot of the entire class. No one bothered to defend me, or tell them to stop, or reported their plans of sabotage. I knew most of my peers in class to be good people, but they stood aside and did nothing to prevent an act of evil.

Were they really as good as I thought they were? Were they ever really my friends, or did they just like the free favors I did for them?

“Ten seconds!”

I fidgeted in my periwinkle 50’s style dress with off shoulder sleeves and a full shirt that ended below my knees with a white satin ribbon tied in a pretty bow around my waist. I had let my hair fall free to better frame my face and appear more mature. Nadja smiled in reassurance. “If it bugs you that much, just keep your eyes on me. Pretend we’re practicing again. You’ll do fine.”

“Three… Two… One.”

My vision was hyperfocused on Nadja as she opened the show with her normal cheer and elaborated on what she would be talking about. I jolted in my seat when I heard my name. “Thank you for joining us, Marinette.”

“Thanks for having me.” The camera isn’t on. This is just another practice.

She beamed. “So Marinette, both Clara Nightingale and Jagged Stone have commissioned you as a designer and you haven’t even graduated school yet. You must be very talented to have attracted such celebrities.”

I shrugged my shoulder, my fingers clenched tightly on my lap. “I’ve been honing my craft for years. I am honored to work with them.” It's just another practice.

“At the Music Awards last night, Clara made a statement implying that the dress she wore was not the dress she had intended to wear, and that it was far better than the one she wore last night. Now I don’t know about you, viewers, but her dress was absolutely gorgeous.” Nadja cocked her head in a friendly manner. “Could you elaborate on this fabled dress for us and tell us what it has to do with the lawsuit we’ve been hearing rumors about?”

It's just another practice. I took a deep breath. “Indeed I can. So a few months back in November, I got a phone call from Clara herself. She said that Jagged had raved about me and she wanted an amazing dress for the annual Music Awards. Her manager and I shared emails and we went back and forth on what exactly she was looking for, and we settled on a design after several concept sketches. It was going to be the most detailed and complex work I had ever done, and it needed to be perfect. I spent months perfecting the pattern and hand embroidering each petal until finally the project was completed two weeks before the deadline. My hand still cramps up when I remember all those nights spent stitching.”

Nadja chuckled good humouredly. “I can imagine. It just so happens that we have a picture of the dress. Let's pull it up and look at it, shall we?”

The giant screen to my right flashed the photos I had to snap for the essay describing how I made it for art class. It truly was magnificent. Soft blues, pinks, and purples made it very much a dress for spring. The ribbed sweetheart bodice was overlaid with a light pink chiffon that was carefully attached to a golden choker at the neck. Like a chrysanthemum, her favorite flower, the skirt was made of 170 petals of alternating pastel blues, pinks, and purples. Every last petal was artfully stitched with shimmering golden lines that brought each petal to life when the threads caught the light. The carefully placed petals fell perfectly to make a slightly asymmetrical skirt that would have flaunted Clara’s legs. Two detached sleeves trailed down from gold armbands that matched the throat piece of the same light pink chiffon and the same material could be seen between the petals. It looked like something a fairy might wear flitting from flower to flower.

"Beautiful. Just beautiful." Nadja gestured to the large image. "How long did this take you to make?"

"Excluding the embroidery, about five months in total. Chrysanthemums are Clara's favorite flower and she wanted that incorporated into the dress somehow. She loved the idea of making the dress into the flower. I think I drew around sixteen concepts in total and then combined all the parts she liked. Then we had to pick the colors and the embellishments, the gold pieces I actually had to commission from a professional. The placement of each petal still gives me nightmares. The colors needed to flow and merge together perfectly, and one petal misplaced would throw the entire scheme off. The embroidery itself took months. No two petals are the same and each stitch was carefully placed to imitate real flower petals." My hand began to cramp up. So many nights spent bent over the chiffon and satin had reduced my hand to a quivering mass of tissue.

Nadja was glowing under the bright lights despite her inquisital frown. "All that work poured into a beautiful work of art. Tell me, why Clara didn't wear this one to the awards ceremony? Don't get me wrong! That rose dress was gorgeous, but this one was obviously the intended dress for the event. Why switch dresses at the last minute?"

It's just another practice. "Because that dress is nothing but scraps now." I could feel the gazes of each and every person tuned into the show through the lens of the camera. "A few of my classmates tore it up."

"No!" The hostess gaped as if this were news to her. "Why would they do something like that to such a sweet girl like you?"

Having retold the story several times but, I was becoming numb to the memory. "A lot of students were complaining about the art final, which had consisted of a 1500 word paper on an art piece describing the medium, the history, and the iconography. Monsieur Garcon relented and replaced the assignment with a handmade project and a 1000 word essay on the how and why the piece was made along with pictures of the process to prevent cheating. It was last minute, due in a month's time, and I didn't have time to focus on making something new alongside the dress and studying for finals. I asked Clara if I could use her dress as my final project to which she gave the okay. I had my parents take pictures of me making the dress, scanned the pattern, the swatches, and the concepts all into my computer and had the paper done in an hour.

"I brought the dress and my essay in on time, even got up early to make sure I got it into the art room for grading. I attended my classes, went to lunch, and came back to the art room to find a pile of spray painted, charcoal smeared scraps of Clara Nightingale's Music Awards dress." I glanced at the camera and turned my gaze back towards the reporter. "Needless to say I was distraught."

Nadja nodded in agreement, her eyes soft and consoling. "I can only imagine how devastating that must have been for you."

Receiving so much support from my parents and clients who were quickly becoming close friends had restored some of my confidence in myself and made me realize just how alone I've been in school. "It was! I spent months working on that dress that someone paid me to make, and there it was laying in tatters on the art room floor! I'm amazed I avoided being akumatized right then and there!" Thank you, Tikki.

Nadja nodded along. “So is this the reason for the lawsuit Clara hinted at last night?"

"It is, yes." I confirmed for the audience. "She paid me €16,000 for that dress and she had every right to sue them for its destruction."

"I can see why. And do you know who the vandals are, because it sounds as if they were close to you." Nadja gave me a thumbs up out of the view of the cameras.

No longer tense with the fear that I'll screw up, talking became a little easier. It's just another practice."I do know them, and I was hurt when I found out but not exactly surprised. You see, there is this girl in my class who is a liar-liar-pants-on-fire who's had it out for me since I started calling her out on her tall tales."

Thet tv hostess’ eyes widened dramatically. "A liar? How does she fit into this? What has she done?"

"Where do I start?" It was liberating to finally share the truth with people who believed me. My confidence was returning. "Let's start with the day I first saw Lila Rossi. I came to school with everyone talking about this amazing new girl who was best friends with Ladybug and how she was close with Jagged Stone. No friend of Ladybug would ever announce themselves on a public social platform. That would put them in Hawkmoth's crosshairs, and I design for Jagged Stone. He does not have a cat. Then I saw her steal a book from Adrien in the library. Suspicious of what she was going to do next, I'm ashamed to say I followed her to a Gabriel store where I saw her buy a fox tail pendant. She tossed the book she stole from Adrien in a trash bin and proceeded to tell him that she was descended from the fox hero, Volpina, using the pendant as proof."

Nadja shook her head in disgust. "What a deplorable girl. Who lies about being a hero?"

"Someone who is desperate for attention. Didn't matter much because Ladybug showed up and called her out on her lies. Apparently, Ladybug doesn't like it when people use her name to gain popularity points."

Several people in the crew threw up their hands or nodded in agreement. Nadja was of the same mind. "People tried that using my name. I am quick to shut them down."

"A belief you and Adrien Agreste do not share." I continued to explain Lila's reign after two months out of school and how she proceeded to threaten me and how she carried it out after a few weeks in school. I told Nadja everything from the planted evidence to the lie to get me back in school, Adrien's plea to leave Lila alone to the underhanded sights that Adrien never caught. "She may not have touched the dress, but I know for a fact that she orchestrated it's destruction."

The woman across from me had to get up and walk away, the camera following her movements as she has to take a short breather to process all the information heaped on her without blowing up. She returned and plopped herself on the couch. "The principal fell for that? No call to her mother, no doctor's notes, nothing? Where was your principal when I was in school?"

"Yeah, the lawsuit has gone from just the perpetrators of vandalism to now an investigation of the staff and faculty of my school for negligence and willful ignorance. It’s the deeper they dig the more secrets they find. This case has grown to encompass more people than I think even the team expected" I never thought Bustier to be abusive in any way shape or form, but Juliet had made me see things in a whole new light.

Nadja brought up Lila's latest photo from the Gabriel brand. She was with Adrien in an orange summer dress that clung to her form. "Now this is the girl, right? The same Lila Rossi that Gabriel announced as his muse?" I confirmed with a nod. Nadja leaned forward, a coming smirk on her lips. "Tell me honestly, do you think that Gabriel is using Lila to tear down blossoming fashion designers like yourself?"

I jerked back in shock. That hasn't been in our practice sessions before. "W- What?"

She leaned in closer. "Do you believe that Lila and Gabriel are in cahoots to ruin upcoming fashion designers? I mean you had won a derby hat competition sponsored by his brand, was acknowledged by Audrey Bourgeois as a talented designer with a very bright future, and have been commissioned by two major music artists before you even graduated. Could Gabriel have seen you as competition and hired a teenage girl in your school to sabotage your work?"

I stuttered and stammered in fierce denial. "Don't be absurd! Gabriel Agreste is one of the people that inspired me to become a designer! He runs a fashion empire and I'm just starting to gain a name for myself. Why would he see me as competition?"

Nadja sat back up, looking pleased with herself. "Good question. I'm afraid that's all the time we have for today. Tune in next week when we interview Clara Nightingale and get her story on the looking lawsuit. I'm Nadja Chamack and this has been Face to Face!"

The director called cut and the crew buzzed around to complete their tasks. I approached Nadja anxiously. “What was that last bit about? Gabriel is too big a fish to mind a small fry like me.”

Nadja shrugged and bounced onto her feet. “You are by no means a small fry anymore, Mari, and the fashion industry is one of cutthroats and sabotage. Did you know that Clara Nightingale has used Garbiel for her costumes since she debuted? Now that she’s using you, old Gabriel might have taken that slight hard.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “Even if he felt insulted over losing one client, no one knew but her team knew that I was making her dress. How would he have even known who to target? Besides, Gabriel has a lot of internship programs that produce high end designers. Why risk losing a potential intern when hiring me onto his brand would just gain him both Clara and Jagged through my clientele?”

“I see that hint of confidence, Mari.” Nadja smirked and walked me off the set. “Even if it’s not true, the insinuation alone will be enough to rouse that old codger from his lair. He’ll have to fire Lila just to save face.”

My legs stumbled as I fully processed her statement. “You said that just to get Lila fired?!”

Nadja’s grin was savage. “No one hurts my favorite girl, Mari. That lying twat is going to burn if I have anything to say about it, and Gabriel needs some excitement in his life. He should’ve known better than to claim a teenager as his muse.”

“You really think that M. Agreste is going to fire her over a silly question like that?” I was all for seeing Lila getting kicked out of the Gabriel brand just so I wouldn’t have to see her fugly face plastered on magazines and billboards, but Gabriel was a stubborn man.

The purplette cackled madly. “Oh honey, the internet will crucify him just for the rumor alone. If he doesn’t drop her, he’s going to face more than media backlash. Trust me, Lila, Gabriel, and that school of yours is going to burn.”

Chapter Text

Wake up at 5:30 on the dot. Bathroom. Shower. Clothes. Makeup. Update Monsieur Agreste’s planner. That has been my job for seven years even before Emilie’s unfortunate accident. The year after her proclaimed disappearance, my job evolved as I was burdened with Gabriel’s secret identity as Hawkmoth and later again as I donned the Peacock Miraculous to fight by his side. The damaged Miraculous had begun to infect me with the same sickness as it did its predecessor, but I would persevere until I helped Gabriel achieve his goals.

The things I did for love.

I was beating back my shame of the feelings Gabriel invoked within me when my eyes caught on the word ‘resignation’ from Valerie Bordeaux. She was a skilled digital artist that handled photoshop and advertisements. She was hired just as Hawkmoth was making his name known throughout Paris and had been promoted twice since then. Gabriel knew talent when he saw it and had done much to keep her in his business. She was paid a five figure salary with full health and retirement benefits for which many would trade a limb or two. Why would she resign so suddenly?

The answer came paired with dawning horror as Valerie persisted that she did not feel comfortable working with a suspected pedophile.

I immediately dived onto the official social media accounts of the Gabriel brand. The staggering amount of memes referencing Gabriel and mlle. Lila in some kind of relationship was revolting. Even more distressing was the hashtag ‘BoycottGabriel’ that was quickly becoming a trend. All the associated posts referenced Gabriel as some kind of insecure child that would sabotage young designers in fear of their skills surpassing his own. I hunted and searched through the ocean of posts and comments in search of the whole story and stumbled upon the episode of Face to Face.

Watching the entire thing, beginning to end, helped me understand the narrative a little better. Gabriel had been miffed to lose Nightingale as a client, but it didn’t surprise me that Adrien’s friend was the one who had been commissioned instead. She had serious talent that Gabriel had talked about honing with an internship one day. Dupain-Cheng had managed to make a fine dress only for it to be ripped to shreds on school property by her classmates who had been spurred on by one Lila Rossi. I was appalled as the girl told the world of her experience with Lila and just how Rossi’s lies have affected her life. It was Nadja Chamack who had questioned the girl if she believed Gabriel had used Rossi to sabotage her efforts only for Marinette to staunchly deny such an accusation.

Even I knew that Marinette’s fierce rejection of the idea and admiration for Gabriel did nothing to stop the conspirators of the world wide web from taking that innocuous question and blowing it up to career ending proportions. Like a ripple to a rogue wave, this story would only grow more wild with each retelling and incite further chaos. It didn’t surprise me that the little bitch was behind it all. Lila fucking Rossi, the fork tongued witch that lied her way into the manor and had gotten me in trouble all while cozying up to Gabriel for a modeling job in return for information. Now her latest scheme to make the young designer fall prey to Hawkmoth’s influence had drawn the worst kind of attention.

I rushed to gather my things and raced to the office. Gabriel was there, as he was every morning, working on his newest winter line. It took me slapping my hand on his desk for him to stop and look up at me. “Nathalie, I told you that…”

“You need to fire Lila Rossi, sir.” I stated cooly.

His head tilted back down. “Absolutely not. She has been useful in creating situations in which my Akumas can take advantage.”

I dropped my tablet on top of his sketching paper opened on a blog post with the headline, ‘Gabriel Agreste uses teenage Muse to sabotage upcoming designer.’ “You don’t have a choice. Either you fire Lila Rossi or watch as your business and reputation goes down in flames.”

She finally has his attention. His pencil fell out of his hand and rolled onto the floor as his eyes scanned the popular blog’s article. It referred to the interview on Face to Face, how heartbreaking it was that Gabriel would seek to undermine a young fashion designer that looked up to him for taking one of his clients and the vomit-inducing theory that he and Lila were in some kind of physical relationship. A message popped up on the screen regarding the TVi network mentioning the Agreste name. We both rushed to turn on the nearest screen and paled at the damning gossip being discussed for all of Paris, and the world, to see. “Nathalie, terminate Rossi’s contract and call my PR.”

The current story trending on all news outlets and social media would keep Gabriel Agreste far too busy to indulge in the Butterfly Miraculous. “Our latest story isn’t about the Nightingale lawsuit, but the big name mentioned in Dupain-Cheng’s tell-all!” Alec Cataldi beamed wickedly at the camera. “Was Adrien Agreste just a clueless boy with good intentions, or did he have a more sinister agenda to undermine the work of a rival designer under his father’s orders? It seems the public has made up its mind!”

Jagged Stone
@MarvelousMari will not be fighting alone! No one messes with my niece!
#Liela #BoycottGabriel

Bbgirl39
What’s a 40 sumthin doing with a teenage “muse”?
#Shady #Liela #BoycottGabriel

Valkyria
Sunshine Boy? More like Asinine Boy. Why didn’t he say something?
#Liela #AsinineBoy #BoycottGabriel

BluRose
@Valkyria I know, rite? Why did he keep quiet? Sue him for complacency!
#AsinineBoy #Liela #BoycottGabriel

Miraculous-Patisserie
You get a lawsuit and You get a lawsuit! Everyone gets lawsuits!
#Liela #AsinineBoy #BoycottGabriel #FrancoisDuplah #whatweretheythinking

reading713
@MarvelousMari was his friend. Why didn’t @AdrienAgreste speak up for her?
#JusticeforMari #Liela #BoycottGabriel #AsinineBoy

MdmMirage
Wait, I know that bich! @LilaFoxxi was at my old school! No surprise that psychopath is getting sued.
#JusticeforMari #Liela #BoycottGabriel

BrawnyRaven
@MdmMirage I know her! Liela got this boy expelled by planting a knife in his locker and told a teacher he planned to kill her. Bitch.
#Liela #BoycottGabriel #AsinineBoy #JusticeforMari

FreeShamrock
No way @AdrienAgreste wasn’t in on it. Not surprising @GabrielAgreste would want to sabotage other designers. His suits are trash!
#JusticeforMari #Liela #AsinineBoy #BoycottGabriel

LibraNinja
I hope that whole class is getting sued. They’re just as guilty of vandalism for not speaking up!
#JusticeforMari #ClassfromHell #Liela #AsinineBoy #BoycottGabriel

Within Agreste Manor, Adrien was having his own freak out. He had only logged onto his accounts to try and reach out to Marinette again. He didn’t even get a chance to attempt sending her a message when he noticed the new hashtags trending since last night.

Post after post defaming him, his father, Lila, and all of his classmates was like watching a train speeding towards him while tied to the train tracks. Asinine leapt out at him from the screen like an arrow from a bow, striking him through his tender heart with the weight of the public’s negative opinion.

He didn’t speak up because he didn’t want Lila to get akumatized! Marinette was so strong, stronger than he could ever be! She could handle Lila’s lies and insulting remarks. If she had only waited, Lila would have tripped up. Their friends would have recognized her as a liar and everything would go back to normal.

Adrien just wanted everyone to be safe and happy. Now it seemed that all the world hated him and his father. Boycott Gabriel was tagged to so many posts, it was possible that the business would never recover.

All this because he had done the right thing…. Hadn’t he?

Not far from the Manor, Lila was anxiously pacing her room like a caged beast. She felt cornered, surrounded, trapped within a cage with no way out that she could see.

This was not at all what she had anticipated.

All she ever wanted was some attention. Her father retired from the Italian Navy as a welding prodigy and was always taking contracts and commissions. He was hardly ever at home and he was constantly moving both of them for work. With a new 8 year contract with the military, papa had sent her to live with mama after she established herself in Paris only to be mostly ignored in favor of work.

Lila swore to get the attention she deserved, even if she had to lie to get it. Now it seems she'd finally gotten her wish in the worst way possible.

It's not her fault that everyone in this god forsaken city was a moron of the highest degree! They could have looked up the facts at any time and uncovered the truth for themselves. Honestly, they're the ones to blame for ripping up the damn dress. Alya's the one who suggested it. Lila just sat back and reveled the chaos.

Cereza Rossi slipped into her daughter's room, unhindered by the door that she had removed, and held out a phone. "Your father wants to talk to you."

Lila gulped in fear of all the things her veteran father would surely say.

Over at the Césaire residence, Alya's world was crumbling down. Lila was a liar, she was a criminal awaiting trial, and her reputation was lying dead in a ditch alongside her dignity and pride.

When she had learned of Lila's duplicity and realized the condemning slander on her precious blog, Alya had panicked and tried to delete everything involving Lila. Every video, interview, and comment where she was even mentioned all while cursing her name. If she had been thinking clearly, she would have realized that this would only make her situation worse. Hindsight is 20/20 after all.

The detective had confiscated her phone with her father's permission. Otis had banned her from any electronics for the foreseeable future. It was two days later when the detectives showed up at her family's apartment with the blonde lawyer in tow, and a warrant for her arrest. Apparently, deleting evidence of Lila's slander and defamation was considered obstruction of justice. Nothing is ever lost on the internet.

So not only was she arrested for defamation and destruction of property, but they tacked on obstruction of justice with supposedly more to come.

Her parents bailed her out a day later, but only to keep a close eye on her. The weight of her parents and sister Nora's judgmental glares made her wish for the gloomy confinement she had been locked in for a night.

Sabrina Raincomprix was under house arrest as far as her father was concerned. No phone, no internet, no TV. Nothing. He wouldn't even look at her. He couldn't. He raised his daughter by the law, teaching her how to be an upstanding citizen. Or so he thought. Roger Raincomprix was all Sabrina had left after the death of her mother. They had been so close. To see her father so distant and cold hurt even more than the revelation that she had abandoned her best friend for a liar.

Said best friend was sitting in her room at Le Paris Grande with her father and family lawyer. Chloe saw the writing on the wall and knew it was time to knock the overreaching, fork tongued harlot into the dirt. She would have to own up to a few of her own shortcomings, but the Miracle Queen debacle had humbled her in a way nothing else had. The heiress had been brought to her lowest point. She had no friends at her side, lost the trust of her hero, and now lost the ability to ever have a hope of holding a Miraculous ever again. She would have to own up to her wrong doings against Dupain-Cheng, but those minor acts of school yard bullying paled in comparison to the crimes of her once close friends. Marinette and Chloe might never be friends, but she was the only one that could pick on the baker girl.

The blonde signed the papers before her. Lila wanted a war, Chloe was going to give her a crusade. She was on a rampage and she would be taking no prisoners. No one dethroned the Queen without paying the price in blood.

In a room at the same hotel, Jagged Stone was feeding treats to Fang every time the crocodile hissed or snapped at a picture of Lila. Penny was on the phone with his legal team while they coordinated with Clara's team in an effort to bring Lila and her little minions to task. No one messed with his honorary niece and favorite designer.

On the Seine, the Liberty floated silently on the river. It was eerily quiet and calm. Anyone who knew the Couffaines knew that this was completely abnormal and was a sign of an impending storm. Though there wasn’t a cloud insight, there was indeed a storm brewing and coming their way. It wasn’t rain or lightning that would be striking the city of Paris, but a lawsuit that had become the number one trending news across the globe. Usually, such things went beneath their notice, but this time it was a dear friend who was pushing the case… while the youngest Couffaine sat on the opposing team as a defendant.

Anarka was upset, of course. Her daughter allowed a liar to besmirch the name of a friend and let others plot to ruin her. This was not the kind of behavior that Anarka had encouraged in her child. Even if she was too shy to say something to the mutinous crew, she could have informed a teacher of their dastardly plot. Anarka Couffaine was most ashamed of her youngest child.

Luka, on the other hand, was furious. His rage burned cold in his belly as he regarded his baby sister. It was one thing to be too shy to speak out against gossip for a stranger, but it was another thing entirely when Marinette Dupain-Cheng got her handcrafted project torn up. She was an amazing girl: designing for Kitty Section, providing snacks, and just being a good friend. It was no wonder the half Asian Parisian had stolen into his heart and mind. Juleka knew of his feelings for her, knew he was willing to stand aside and let Marinette love Adrien when it meant her happiness. How could she allow such a thing to happen to Marinette?

“Luka…” Juleka’s soft voice pleaded from the sofa where she sat curled into a helpless ball. Any other time, Luka would have hugged her in a comforting embrace and offered his unwavering support as her brother.

Now though, looking at her made him sick. “She is our friend. Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you stop them?”

Juleka flinched under her brother’s glare. “I… I just…. What if Marinette had…?”

“What if Marinette had stolen Lila’s design?” Luka’s voice took on a rare sarcastic, cold tone. “Do you hear yourself? Have you lost your mind? Marinette has been designing for years! Why would she need to steal someone else’s work when she can rely on her own creativity and not get in trouble for plagiarism?”

The goth girl couldn’t even look at her brother. “I’m sorry… I wanted to say something, but I was afraid…. Who was going to believe me?”

Luka was not appeased. “You could have told a teacher. Better yet, you could have told Marinette. Warned her about what her classmates were plotting. At least then she could have made plans to keep it from harm.”

Juleka trembled on the well worn sofa on the verge of tears. Her soft voice warbled with despair. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry this happened? Sorry you didn’t say anything? Sorry you got in trouble?” Luka slammed his empty drinking glass down. “Shame on you. Marinette has been nothing but nice to you, helped you and offered you modeling opportunities. This is how you repay her? By protecting those lily livered rats despite what they did to the sweetest girl in Paris. And for what? An entirely baseless accusation of theft that they never verified?!”

Luka left the boat house with his sister sobbing in their kitchenette as her mother watched on in silence. She had said her piece and now couldn’t bear to address her child again lest she begin screaming or dissolve into tears.

Max hated himself for falling for such blatant falsehoods and daring to think that Marinette would steal someone else’s idea. Marinette, their Everyday Ladybug. He passed all his classes with flying colors and built an emotionally aware robot, yet he couldn’t spot the snake in the grass that was Lila Rossi. He was a fool. The silence of his father confirmed that his parents thought so too.

Kim was wallowing in guilt and self loathing as his mother alternated between screaming at him and crying over her own failings as a mother. He had known Marinette for years, knew her character. What the hell kind of drug had he been taking to let him think for one second that Marinette would steal someone else’s work? He knew he should apologize, but he knew it was far too late. Lines had been crossed and there would be no going back.

Alix could only sit and listen as her father and older brother argued about how she should be punished; military school or sending her to live with some distant family. She felt like an utter fool falling for Lila's bullshit. She should have known something was amiss when Marinette expressed her dislike in the new girl.

Mylene and Ivan suffered together, guilty for their silence and lack of faith in their dear friend. Marinette had been the one to get them together. How could they think her capable of such deceit? They deserved to be punished.

Poor Rose was sinking into uncharacteristic depression as she developed a full understanding of just how badly things had gotten. She was appalled when she heard Alya and the others talking about destroying Marinette's art project. If Marinette had really stolen Lila's design, they should have told a teacher and let them investigate. She had worried and chewed over how to approach Bustier or Marinette about the plot, but it was too late by the time Rose had gathered enough courage to tell their professor. Now they were getting sued and Marinette wasn't answering her texts. She felt just awful. If only she had told a teacher right away, they would all be friends and enjoying the summer before their final year.

Nino hadn't played any music since the initial interrogation. He couldn't even look at his reflection without wanting to punch himself for being such an idiot. He'd known Marinette for years, seen her hone her skill in fashion design. They should have been celebrating her latest commission together as friends. Instead, he allowed his girlfriend… ex now… to ruin something Marinette had made with her bare hands. He knew he should have said something, but Lila was so convincing. How could he ever doubt Marinette?

Nathaniel was wondering how it had even come to this. He had been shocked to learn that Marinette’s art project was destroyed. As an artist himself, he felt for her and understood her pursuit of justice. If anyone had torn up his sketchbooks, he would have torn them asunder. To think that it was Alya who did it at the behest of what was apparently a liar was even more shocking. He may keep his head down and in his drawings, but he thought Marinette and Alya were best friends. Why had Alya attacked Marinette’s passion and academics? Why would Lila lie about Marinette, a designer, stealing her design? Why didn’t anyone speak up and defend Marinette? Did Adrien really know about Lila’s falsehoods from the beginning? If so, why did he allow his friends to be lied to and manipulated? Questions swirled about in his head in a tornado of confusion and anxiety. In this turbulent time in which character was tested and judgements made, only one thing was certain: there would be no going back.

Damocles and Bustier were put on suspension while they were investigated. From the thick manilla packets they received, they knew they had royally screwed up. Bustier just wanted everyone to hug it out and get along. Damocles had seen what kind of damage a wealthy parent could do to a teacher when their spoiled child was rightfully punished. He just wanted to avoid getting blacklisted. Now both teachers were facing criminal charges of negligence and abuse of power. Clara and Jagged both were leaving no stone unturned and were pursuing their favorite designer’s justice to the fullest extent.

Chapter Text

The circus of a trial was covered by every news station in France and then some. With so many celebrities pushing their cases against Lila and Alya and a school being sued for child negligence, it was hardly surprising. Countless cameras and journalists were at the trial, held in a courthouse outside of Paris to avoid possible akumatizations.

I was four months into my senior year, all online, before the actual trial commenced. The investigations were thorough and intensive. Three different psychologists evaluated me and the others, and that itself took months to compile all the data. By the first day of trial, I was ready to explode as I prepared to face off against Lila once again. Hopefully for the last time.

Leblanc headed our team with the ferocity of an angry tiger as she presented her opening statement. The lithe blonde who wouldn't look out of place on the cover of a magazine verbally eviscerated the defendants with the bare, bitter truth of what they'd done. She illustrated the negligence bordering on outright abuse as my requests for a fixed locker and class transfers went ignored and how Damocles had broken the law by expelling me. Apparently, a principal cannot expel a student on a whim. It is a process that requires an out of school suspension and a trial in front of the board of education where both parties present evidence as to why the student should or shouldn't be expelled. Damocles had expelled me with only circumstantial evidence to condemn me. He never allowed me to explain myself, never checked the numerous camera feeds, never sent Lila to the nurse to confirm her supposed injuries. She brought up evidence, proof of bribes taken and money misused to further paint the picture of his incompetence. Madam Bustier was vilified as a disgusting excuse for a teacher that forgave bullies and gaslit the victims to maintain a mockery of peace within the class, not to mention the paperwork she heaped upon me disguised as class president duties. To say the judge, officers, and onlookers gave the defendants dirty looks was an understatement.

Then came Leblanc's statement about Lila. Oh boy, was that a sight to see. Horrified disgust was blatantly portrayed on the faces of the crowd as the blonde highlighted just what she was suing Lila Elise Rossi for on Clara's and my behalf. Leblanc described Lila's duplicitous and malevolent nature using her many lies and crimes to support her observations. She stressed that though Lila had never laid a hand on the infamous dress, she had orchestrated it's demise after claiming it as her own creation.

Then she went after my classmates. Those who tore up my dress and those who knew but said nothing. Leblanc was no less severe on those who kept their silence while Alya and the others plotted in class. She argued that intent to report the schemers or not, their inaction made them just as guilty as the culprits for the crime would have never been committed had they simply spoken out.

The defending lawyer failed to excuse their behaviour in a way that made them look innocent. He did point out Damocles' history as an educator and Bustier's positive reviews by students, as well as tried to excuse the students' behavior as just being misguided children seeking justice. His defense for Lila was that she was a lovely girl looking for friends and went about it the wrong way. No one looked convinced.

And that was all just day one.

Day two of the trial was the questioning of the prosecution's witnesses where both lawyers would cross examine them. Leblanc started with the celebrities Lila had lied about. No, they don’t know her. No, they’ve never heard of her. Yes, they will be suing her for slander. Jagged and Clara were particularly verbose in their disgust in Lila’s behavior while praising me all the while. As Leblanc progressed in her list of witnesses, growing closer to myself and the situation, physical evidence was produced to either my exceptional work ethic or evidence of my harassment at the hands of my peers.

Madam Mendeleiev confirmed that though I had a habit of getting caught up in my creativity, I was a dedicated and kind student. She ranted about Lila’s lack of attention in class, how she was always coming up with excuses as to why she didn’t do homework, produced evidence of cases in which her work had been completed by someone else (there was an entire binder), and gave detailed recounts of situations where I had been excluded or besmirched by my classmates. She addressed the matter of my expulsion as illegal, unfair, and completely unprecedented as there was no proper investigation conducted to prove my guilt while asserting that this particular lawsuit was a long time coming. The opposing lawyer’s interrogation only solidified her statement and the opinion of the crowd.

Both my parents were called up separately and gave similar accounts to my growth and deterioration at Dupont. They expressed joy when my social circle and confidence seemed to bloom only shrink not long after the day of my sudden expulsion. They both insisted that I was a good person, raised to uphold honor and honesty, and to hear that I had not only cheated but assaulted and stolen came completely out of nowhere. The situation made them both uneasy and they claimed they would have pushed for an investigation had Lila not revoked her claims with the excuse of a lying disease. My mother pointed out that the claim in and of itself was suspicious as the pendant and answer sheet had been purposefully planted in my locker and bag respectively which showed premeditated intent. Even if someone else had planted them, she stated, it doesn’t make up for the fact that Lila had lied about being pushed down the stairs. The defense didn’t have much to ask that wasn’t already said and didn’t further portray his clients in a good light.

Then it was my turn. It was nerve wracking being put on display for all to see, but I was determined to see my bullies brought to justice. Leblanc started the questioning. “Miss Marinette, what would you say your relationship with your class is like?”

I took a deep breath and did my best to ignore the eyes of the crowd. “Well, at what time? My standing in the class has fluctuated within the past few years.”

Leblanc nodded, “Before Miss Rossi transferred into your class. What was the atmosphere of the class like?”

Ah, the good ol’ days. “Pleasant, I guess. Once Alya had given me the confidence to stand up to Chloe on my own, I found my social circle growing. I became well acquainted with my classmates, friends even, and I eventually beat out Chloe for class representative. I spent a lot of time and care arranging more class functions and field trips outside of just Le Paris Grande. I considered everyone my friend.”

The blonde hummed in thought. “Unfortunate that the status has since changed. Tell me, whatever happened to make your friends, people you trusted, turn on you in such a manner. What triggered such abhorrent behavior?”

I pointed to the brunette glaring at me from her seat. “Lila Rossi. As far as I know, her first lie was claiming she was best friends with Ladybug and then it just snowballed from there. I’m shocked and heartbroken that it took a vandalised commission and a lawsuit to make my classmates see the truth.”

“Understandable, mademoiselle.” Leblanc paced back to the prosecutors table. “You said you were close with your classmates. Please tell the court how Miss Rossi was able to sour their perception of you so entirely that they were willing to destroy something you had made and risk the consequences.”

Leblanc winked at me after I reiterated my story for the world to hear. The judge and press all looked angry on my behalf while also being empathetic to the trials I faced. The defending lawyer, Monsieur Cheney, didn’t have the strongest start. “Mademoiselle, you told the police who you suspected to have vandalized Madam Nightingale’s commission which turned out to be true. How did you know who the culprits were?”

“I was told over the phone. Adrien, along with the rest of my class, overheard Alya plotting it with Sabrina, Kim, and Alix after Lila claimed that I had stolen the design from her. I believe I’ve said this already.” Or were you not listening went unsaid, but everyone heard it from the tone of my voice.

M. Cheney nodded slowly. “And what was your relationship with the Agreste heir?”

Leblanc told me to tell the straight truth. She said unrequited love was endearing, but a betrayal of the love would only garner sympathy. “I thought we were at least friends. I had the hugest crush on him after he apologized for a misunderstanding that wasn’t even his fault. Alya and I would plan these stupid schemes to try and confess my feelings for him, but it never worked out. Looking back, I’m glad I never told him. I don’t need a spineless coward clinging to me and looking for guidance for the most mundane social situations.”

The blond, whose father had settled for him in a private trial for half a million, sunk low in his seat as he felt the gaze of eyes and cameras on his form. He and his father’s company had suffered a major backlash that only got worse when Adrien had gone against his father’s orders and posted a video giving his account of what happened. His pacifistic methods had received only condemnation in reply, most people raging at him for sitting idly by when his friend needed his support. His father’s press conference was basically Gabriel verbally eviscerating Lila, agonizing over Emilie’s disappearance, his failure to educate his son on social interaction, and his announcement to bestow half a million euros to me in compensation for the suffering I had gone through and the loss of months of work because his son did nothing. At least, the public agreed, he was trying.

Cheney could feel the looks of sympathy I was getting. “I see, and was Mister Agreste aware of your feelings for him?”

My expression was deadpan. “He asked me to help him on his date with another girl. If he knew about my feelings, he made it very clear they were not reciprocated.”

Faint cooing could be heard in the room and more people turned to glare at Adrien who was looking incredibly pale under the negative attention. For someone who always wanted friendship and approval, this must be hell for him.

M. Cheney was starting to tremble. He wasn’t doing so well in making me look bad. He tried a different route. “Well surely that meant he cared for your opinion. He cared for you enough to seek out romantic advice. Perhaps he meant well when he informed you of the culprits within your class.”

“Oh I just bet he did.” I pasted on a smile, looking off to the side. “Hi there, friend! I’m sorry your cat was beaten to death. I just want to let you know that it was your old friends that did it. I overheard them talking about it, but I didn’t stop them or tell anyone. Do with that information as you will. Don’t be too harsh on them, though. They’ll realize what they did was wrong and apologize eventually!”

He looked ready to cry, the poor man. “A dress is not a cat.”

I shrugged, “No, it was a €16,000 dress that I slaved over for months. Adrien knew Lila was a liar. He knew since day one when Ladybug called out Lila for her lies in front of him in the park. I know because I was there and I watched the whole thing. He decided that Lila was just lying for attention and let her keep manipulating the class. He didn’t confess she was a liar when she accused me of assault, or cheating, or stealing her pendant and hiding it in my locker in which there is no lock and anyone can get it. The witch got me expelled, nearly akumatized three times, and he still kept his silence. My point is that he knew what she was capable of and. Did. Nothing.”

He coughed into his fist. “No more questions.”

Then the head psychiatrist was summoned. Carina Delore was an older woman with thirty years of psychiatry under her belt and had written four books on the subject. Having been involved in other criminal cases before, she was more than qualified to testify. Leblanc set some ground work to show her expertise and started on the interrogation. “Madam Delore, you evaluated the students and teachers involved in this little fiasco, correct?”

“Yes.” Carina’s voice was firm and steady.

Leblanc waved towards her youngest client. “And tell me, what was your conclusion of Miss Dupain-Cheng?”

Delore cleared her throat. “Marinette is a kind and compassionate girl who genuinely wants to help people. I have noticed signs of anxiety and perhaps a few for imposter syndrome in which she feels as if she is undeserving of the praise given to her, but I don’t think I can quite diagnose her with it as it might be a product of depression from being in such a toxic environment. All in all, Marinette Dupain-Cheng is a talented and driven young lady with a propensity to be a little too eager to help others at the cost of her own time and health. She’s the kind of person who shoulders responsibility with grace and integrity.”

“So you don’t think she’s one to make up stories or exaggerate to get others in trouble.” Leblanc questioned almost casually.

Carina smiled good naturedly. “No, most certainly not. In fact, Marinette expressed an extreme aversion to the mere mention of lies. She understands the occasional white lie to protect someone’s emotional and mental wellbeing, but she made it very clear that she detestes of people who lie to make themselves look better for the sake of popularity.”

Leblanc hummed, “And is there anyone here who fits that description?”

Delore pointed at a seething brunette. “Lila Rossi.”

The blonde lawyer wondered closer to her table and shuffled through her papers. “Lila Rossi. Tell me your assumption about Miss Rossi.”

“Sociopath. Antisocial personality disorder, plain and simple.”

“A sociopath.” Leblanc repeated, her gaze sweeping over the crowd. “A harsh call to make on one so young. Can you tell the court how you and your team came to that conclusion on her diagnosis?”

Carina bowed her head. “It was her charming and demure persona that tipped me off. The person in my office was completely different from the person described in her case file. For every situation on record in which she lied I brought up, she always had an excuse. Each story was made to paint her as the wronged victim of circumstance and her accusers as relentless bullies out to sully her name. We did PET scans on her head, recorded her reactions to specific stimuli, and we concluded that she was a textbook case of sociopath. That in no way excuses her behavior, but it does explain it.”

“What is a sociopath? Is there a difference between them and a psychopath?” Leblanc knew the answer, but asked for an explanation to catch everyone else up to speed.

“The key difference is that a psychopath is born and a sociopath is made. Madam Rossi did mention her daughter's birth father and I suspect that is where she got the disposition from as her mother mentioned he was a convicted psychopath. Madam Rossi divorced him when she discovered his unsavoury business deals when Lila was just a baby and remarried an old flame who could not be reached for questioning. He has since been imprisoned for his crimes and is still serving time. Paired with some reported childhood bullying and the genetic propensity, my colleagues and I agreed that antisocial personality disorder was the most fitting diagnosis.” Carina took a moment to breathe and continued. “As for what it is, a sociopath is a person that lacks a moral compass. They may know the difference between right and wrong, but that knowledge won’t stop them from doing as they please. Lila showed that she was willing to lie, cheat, and steal to get what she wants and framed Miss Dupain-Cheng to be expelled knowing that it would reflect very badly on her. She did all of this because Marinette knew her for the liar she was and Lila saw her as a threat to her social standing. Although her PET scans did show her capable of empathy, I’m afraid there is very little that incites her compassion.”

The trial went on for three more days, my classmates being called to the stand to give their own testimony. The evidence against Lila and my class was irrefutable. Not long after Marinette left out of the stress of it all, Ladybug showed up and gave her own account of Lila and it was not pretty. On the night before the final verdict, I was lounging atop the Eiffel Tower just pondering over everything that had happened. Leblanc had assured me that we were bound to win, but the doubts still pricked at my insecurities.

A shadow darker than the night sky dashed across the rooftops and used an extendable baton to launch themselves to her perch. “What a beautiful evening.”

I turned to look at the Holder of the Black Cat. “Diva.”

Diva Destruction bowed her head topped with a princess braid bun and gracefully folded herself next to me on the cold metal. Her Miraculous suit protected her bum from the chill all while not looking like she had a leather fetish. Her tight suit was streaked with toxic green lines to elegantly display her curves and was tucked into pitch black boots and gloves. Her opera gloves flared out like her thigh highs and disrupted the play of black and green. Golden claws tipped the fingers of her gloves matched the gold of her soles. More gold accents could be seen lining her fake ears cradled in her honey blonde hair and in her waist cinching belt. Instead of Char Noir’s belt tail or my long braid, Diva’s suit gave her a length of rose gold chain that dangled from her belt fashionably. Though it didn’t act like a tail would, it did react to Diva’s mental control. She used it rarely in battle, but when she did it showed just how far more formidable Diva Destruction was compared to her predecessor, Chat Noir. She was ruthless in battle and cared little for harming Akumas knowing that my Miraculous Cure would fix all the damage done by both parties. Being more violent also made it more difficult for Akumas to strike or control her. I still remembered how her first debut had made Monsieur Pigeon surrender his akumatized object on his own. Her aggression had scared everyone and there was still controversy around the replacement, but no one could deny that things had gotten better. I was no longer fending off poorly timed flirtation and had a partner willing to go the extra mile.

Chat Noir…. I still can’t believe that he and Adrien were the same person. I bitterly wondered where his heroic persona was when I needed him. My confrontation with him hadn’t been pretty. Telling me to withdraw the lawsuit had pissed me off, but then lying to my face about Ladybug’s opinion had enraged me. I had taken my anger out on his leather clad butt and then tore him a new asshole before kicking him around again. Then he tried defending his actions, so I just removed his ring. I said I didn’t need a partner that would protect a liar from justice. Or least I was going to say that until I saw Adrien’s surprised face. I had only been partially surprised, and then everything started to make sense while also being completely ridiculous at the same time.

It was only through the grace and instruction of Plagg that allowed me to use my title as Guardian to strip Adrien of his Miraculous and erase his time as Chat Noir from his memory. As far as he was concerned, he had always hidden away when an Akuma came knocking. I had also been reminded that Ladybug couldn’t face Hawkmoth alone, so I had to choose a new partner.

Only there was no one left to choose. All of my friends weren’t really my friends. Of course there was Nathaniel who claimed he was too lost in his art to hear what our classmates had planned, but he was no Cat. It was when I was thinking over just who I could trust when she came to mind. True she had moments of weakness, and a shady history, but those moments when she did step up made her shine. Besides, she was plenty destructive enough, and rich enough to maintain Plagg’s diet of expensive cheeses without going bankrupt.

“I thought it was my turn to patrol tonight.” Diva and I looked out over the city so peaceful and calm without Cockmoth to ruin it.

“It is, but it’s… it’s been a very trying day.” I intended to enjoy the peace while I could. The trial would conclude tomorrow morning and my body was strung tight like a bow. Until the verdict was given, I knew I wouldn’t be able to relax.

Diva groaned in exhaustion. “Tell me about it. My classmates are being sued and the trial is supposed to come to an end tomorrow! I know that Dupain-Cheng is totally going to win, but there’s always that slim chance. Ugh! Just thinking about it is going to keep me up all night! I need my beauty sleep, damn it!”

I chuckled and nudged her shoulder with mine, not willing to show my own stress. “Relax. Marinette’s got this in the bag. At least that liar wasn’t allowed on the stand.”

She snorted, “God, I’m never going to forget her face. When Leblanc refused to call her citing her history with lying, I thought Lila would explode in her seat. She looked so mad, as if she ever had a chance of lying her way out of trouble. Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.”

“Your Chloe is showing.” I smirked at her soft curse. I finally glanced over at her and watched her compose herself once more. “Hey, you’re doing a good job.”

Her lips twitched and her eyes flashed with genuine happiness. “I hope so. I’ve messed up so much, I sided with Hawkmoth, and you still found it in yourself to trust me. I can’t let you down again. I could never forgive myself if I did.”

“I’ve seen your heroic side, Chloe. I knew you were capable of so much more. I think this situation has just given you the push you needed.” I climbed to my feet and beamed down at my partner. “I’m gonna cover the east side. Take it easy, alright?”

Diva Destruction nodded her head, her blue eyes gleaming with determination, and launched herself into the night.

Chapter Text

Looking back, I wondered if the aftermath was really worth it. Lila Rossi was found super guilty of all charges and was committed to a health facility to be locked away with therapists and psychologists until they saw fit to release her back into the public. Lila’s mother had decided to take a sabbatical and join her husband who was working in Austria to recuperate from her daughter’s lies and manipulations. Alya’s blog was taken down and, since she was a minor, was sentenced two hundred hours of community service alongside paying me back for the dress she destroyed. Sabrina, Kim, and Alix shared the same fate. Kim had to quit swimming. Alix would be made to work at the Louvre until she paid off her portion. Sabrina’s father agreed to make her work at the police station where his fellow officers could help keep an eye on her when she wasn’t performing her community service. In addition, they all received restraining orders that would prevent them from ever attending a Clara Nightingale or Jagged Stone concert in the future. To add salt to their wounds, Jagged and Penny both had them blacklisted. Alya would never get a position as a respectable reporter. Neither Alix nor Kim would ever be a professional athlete. Sabrina would never gain entry into the government by any means, not as a police officer or even a secretary. As for Lila, well, Jagged blasted her on all his social media accounts and even on stage at his next concert. When she does get released, no one will ever believe her again.

I appreciated Uncle Jagged’s ‘ride or die’ ideology.

As for the rest of my class, those who didn’t speak up, they only suffered the social blowback. They all stated that they knew it was wrong and wanted to come forward but didn’t know who to tell. Bustier would have most likely dismissed it as something her students would never do and Damocles hadn’t been much help in the past. Furthermore, the lawyer insisted that they were too scared to come forward and looked to their peers to step up. A classic case of Bystander Effect, he said. While they couldn’t exactly be punished by the law, the public did not view them in a positive light.

Adrien decided to leave Paris to join his Aunt and cousin in England. I replied to every attempt to reconnect that his actions, or rather inaction, was unforgivable and that there was no hope of ever regaining the trust I had in him. He stopped after a while with what I hoped had been acceptance that any friendship we once had was gone.

Then there was Nathaniel who claimed he wasn’t even paying attention that day. He said he was too lost in the art book in the back to pay any mind to his classmates. He said he knew how much my designs meant to me and definitely would have warned me had he known. It wasn’t until he sought me out after Lila’s trial that I started to believe him. Afterall, how many times had I gone blind to the world in favor of my sketches? To have at least one person on my side had brought me such relief. Though we weren’t quite at where we were in our friendship, the genuine sorrow and regret in his eyes did warm me to him. It would take time, but I hoped that we could grow past this. Marc would certainly be there to help that sweet boy.

Luka, dear Luka, had pulled me into a hug that I dearly needed after the guilty verdict. He expressed his disappointment in his sister and offered me a shoulder to cry on any time I needed it, obviously nowhere near Juleka.

God, Juleka. She wasn’t exactly the definition of bold, but I had always thought she would have my back. I guess I could understand her fear in speaking out, yet that didn’t quell the bitterness. Her girlfriend, Rose, looked so apologetic and miserable when she looked at me from the other side of the room. Her silence didn’t shock me, but it hurt all the same. She claimed she had agonized on what to do and who to tell, her feelings warring inside of her telling her that Alya and the others wouldn’t actually do something so drastic. Knowing Rose as I do, I believed in her remorse.

My trial against Damocles and Bustier had lost them their jobs and landed them in prison after being found guilty of a slew of crimes. Damocles was found guilty of child neglect, accepting bribes, abuse of government funds, and abuse of power. Bustier was convicted of child neglect, abuse of power, and divulging private information. Apparently some of that paperwork I had to do as class president was not meant for my eyes. The ridicule of the former teachers reflected poorly on Francois Dupont to the point where the school underwent a major overhaul. All the teachers were investigated though most were faultless. Meindeiliev ended up taking over as principal and ruled the school with an iron fist. She developed a new process fondly referred to as the Marinette Effect by the students: any student targeted by three or more fellow students would result in a police report of the bullies and in school suspension varying from a few days to a month depending on the severity of their actions. Not only that, but students that came forward to report the bullies were rewarded with extra credit points in the class with their poorest grade. This inspired students to keep on the lookout for disreputable behavior. Of course, false reports for a better grade would result in a police report of falsifying information and suspension. Investigations were taken very seriously, and other schools across France adopted the process too.

I suppose it helped when big names like Clara Nightingale, Jagged Stone, and now even mine, have waged our war against bullying through social media. I’ve gone so far as to create a charity that funded free therapy for people who have developed anxiety and depression caused by severe bullying.

With Chloe as my manager, I was able to build my fashion empire while attending university. It was after a few months into my second year that Diva Destruction was able to pinpoint Hawkmoth’s lair. I allowed her the use of the Bee Miraculous once more which allowed her to become Diva Bee. Hawkmoth didn’t put up much of a fight after I distracted him long enough for Diva Bee to sneak up and sting him from behind.

If my trial was a media circus, Gabriel Agreste’s was a whole damn theme park. Seeing as Paris was a tourist trap and people from several nationalities flocked to visit the city of lights, it was inevitable that one of the many tourists would get caught up in the middle of an Akuma attack. I knew there were deaths that occured during those battles, but they were always reversed by the Miraculous Cure. Well, the trauma of dying in a terrorist attack was enough to leave those tourists with a wonderful case of PTSD to deal with for the rest of their lives. Who knew those country leaders would take those cases so seriously? Not Gabriel, apparently. The man looked down right stupefied that he was facing charges from 9 different countries for his terroristic threats against their citizens. His explanation for his actions garnered him a little sympathy, but not nearly enough to make up for the years of trauma he inflicted on Paris.

So that long story short, Gabriel and Nathalie both were thrown into a maximum security prison for what was left of their miserable lives. Funny enough, I was instructed by the Kwamis on how to revive Emilie from her stasis. She awoke not much later, very hungry and very confused. She expressed disgust at her husband’s behavior and divorced him then retreated to the Graham de Vanily estate to be with her sister, nephew, and beloved son. Adrien’s only comment was that he was glad to have his mother back and that his father had caused so much needless grief when he could have simply asked for help.

Life goes on, as the saying goes, and everyone grew up. Some of us grew closer while others left to pursue their own paths. As I stood next to Chloe as her maid of honor while she said her vows to a blushing Aurore Beaureal, wearing a Marinette original while Chloe wore a dress designed by the Style Queen herself, I looked across the aisle at my own husband and man of honor. Luka chanced a worried peek at my swollen belly in a silent question. This was our first baby and the reason he had taken a sabbatical from the rock industry, well that and the wedding. He had become quite the popular guitarist under his father’s tutelage and Jagged Stone refused to have him play for anyone else. Nathaniel was taking photographs with the other reports, but only to use a references for the painting Aurore had commissioned him to make. It took a hefty sum to pull him away from the comics he and Marc were creating, but Marc was more than happy to take a break. Andre was bawling with joy in the front row while Audrey sat poised and collected as usual even as Aurore’s mother leaned against her.

I am happier than I had ever been, with a steadfast partner in Diva Destruction and the new and improved Snake Eyes to watch our backs as we continue to protect Paris from crime and evil doers. My empire rivaled Audrey’s, my husband was a successful musician, my parents’ bakery and expanded into four other shops across Paris, Chloe was now a producer, and I was settling comfortably into my title of Guardian. Decoding the book was achingly slow going, but I had my mother to help me. Without the threat of Hawkmoth hanging over my head, I felt comfortable allowing my parents, and then my husband, in on the secret. My inner circle essentially made up the Miracle Court and worked hard to protect the Miracle Box and use them to protect the innocent. My father made a brilliant Ox when he wasn’t working and my mother a perfect Dragon. I bet Kagami is satisfied with the new Holder wherever she was in Japan, off to establish her own school for swordsmanship.

It hurt not having Juleka here, but she was on a modeling shoot in Milan. Though I suppose it was for the best. We had since reconnected before my marriage to Luka, who still held a bit of a grudge against his little sister, but we never could quite reach that same level of trust we once had. It was much the same with Rose. I was happy for them when they eloped and glad that they could remain together through their careers, Juleka as a model and Rose as a makeup artist. It was nice knowing they had each other to lean on when I could no longer fulfill that role.

I didn’t know where the rest of my old classmates were, nor did I really care. None of them tried to reach out to me and I refused to be the “bigger person” Bustier had once conditioned me to be. I hoped that they had learned their lessons and grew into better people after the whole ordeal, and I didn’t want to stir up old drama. It was best to let sleeping dogs lie.

After all, those relationships are nothing but ash and cinder now.