Anonymous asked:
apex-primus answered:
Okay, uh, I getting to this a lot later than I’d hoped. Really like the prompt, despite how general it is.
Um… guess I’ll start?
Before, Marinette was not willing to entertain the thought of leaving
Collège Françoise Dupont. It was her second home, a place where she met her friends and mentors. But now, it had become a den of lies and betrayal. Those who she’d supported throughout the years had so easily turned their backs on her. Even Adrien, who she had loved with all her heart, had shown his true colors. That sunshine glow dimmed and she was left with the blatant truth. It just wasn’t worth it.
So, she agreed to her parents’ proposition. They would transfer her to another school as soon as they could. However, “as-soon-as-they-could” couldn’t come soon enough.
Marinette is forced to endure a few more days while the paperwork goes through. She has to sit with her classmates as they whisper about Adrien’s somber, melancholic mood. She has to learn with them as they gossip about Adrien’s every guilty look in her direction that is met by her own glare. She has to endure Alya’s interrogations as she tries to uncover the truth about the sudden tension between them all.
On her last day at Collège Françoise Dupont, she means to leave early. Her work is done, her farewells said. Mlle. Bustier wishes her good times, much to her classmates’ confusion. All except one.
Lila meets her outside in the courtyard. She’d disappeared earlier under the pretense of a bathroom break. She should’ve known better.
“It’s like I told you,“ she taunted, “you’re either with me or against me.“
Marinette tries to remain resolute. She tries to ignore her. Yet, good cannot remain idle in the face of evil.
So, she takes a stand. She confronts Lila on everything. She tries to reason before she tries to antagonize. Though she’s leaving, that doesn’t mean Lila has won. One day, possibly soon, everything she’s done will come to a head. When it does, Marinette will be laughing on the other side of Paris.
Lila, not one to not have the last laugh, threatens her family. She tries to play off that her lies will spread farther, that people will start to look at Tom & Sabine’s Boulangerie Patisserie with disdain. They’ll mark the fresh goods as stale. The flavors will be bland. The reviews will never reach above four stars.
She leaves Marinette with that thought, returning to class as the other girl fumes.
If there is one thing that Marinette holds above duty, it’s family. And she’ll be damned if she lets this monster hurt her family.
She’s too lost in her rage to hear the flutter of butterfly wings or feel the feather-light touch of Hawkmoth’s akuma until the glow of his insignia frames her face.
“Hello, Apollyon,“ he coos. “Hello, my avenging angel. A wrong has been done upon you, but it can be made right. Take my power and in return I only request Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous.“
None the wiser to his victim’s alter ego, he eagerly anticipates her answer.
“Yes, Hawkmoth.“
Suddenly, Collège Françoise Dupont is shrouded in shadows. No, the world is. The sunlight has dimmed. The clouds have grown dark. Mist pours through the doors and windows, and the very air grows a chill.
Mlle. Bustier’s class huddle together, fear gripping their hearts without reason or rationality. Not even Max can comprehend the logic behind this. With that knowledge, they decide that an akuma is behind this.
They are right. And they are wrong.
The akuma appears before them in a flare of cold, white light. But it’s not just an akuma.
Marinette is wreathed in a ghostly white toga. Though much of her petite figure is shown, it is not sensuality that is invoked, but dread. Her skin is pale. Paler than bone, if it were possible. Her eyes match that muteness, no longer bright like bluebells, but cold like ice. From her back sprout spectral wings, four in number, each in the form of skeletal frames rather than feathered limbs.
“Lila Rossi.“ Her voice is cold and faraway, sounding like it is coming from every direction. “You have trespassed me for the last time!“
She raises her hands and magic erupts in her palms. Mist pours from between her fingertips, then rises and forms into the shape of a scythe. It appears in her hands with a flash, long and sharp, forged from a metal that reflects the fear in their souls.
“Marinette?“ Adrien breathes.
“Girl, what is wrong with you!“ Alya cries.
“Y-You gotta calm down, Mari!“ Nino shouts.
The class pleads, but the angel of death simply narrows her eyes.
“Marinette is dead.” There is no room for doubt in her tone. “I. Am. Apollyon. And I bring vengeance.“
She raises her scythe, but Adrien tackles Lila to the ground. Her swing misses and the class scatters, running in all directions.
Apollyon snarls and swings again. She catches Kim in the side and he stops. His soul seeps from the wound, pouring into the blade of her scythe.
“Oh, Kim,“ she coos. “I had a soft spot for you. The both of us, children of foreigners, living in a world dominated by Westernization.” She fingers the blade, running her thumb along its edge. Mist pours from the wound and in the blade’s reflection, the class sees Kim trying to escape, hands and face pressed against the steel as if it were a window. “But, your pride and arrogance, all of that stubbornness, it’s lead to more harm than good.”
Apollyon glances at the soulless corpse at her feet and sighs. “I think you need a lesson in humility.” She points her scythe at the body. “Rise and serve me. Let justice be done!”
There is a flash and a flare, then Kim’s screams echo throughout the classroom. A moment later, Kim rises and stares out across his classmates. His eyes are glossy and his body is stiff, but he stumbles towards them nonetheless.
“Take them!“ Apollyon commands. “I will judge them, one-by-one, until retribution is mine!“
ruinedchildhood
