𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜

What Once Was

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was happy.

With many friends, a boyfriend and loving parents that wouldn't ever betray her. She was sure.

A best friend/ reporter who daily risked her life to get amazing shots of the two heroes that protected Paris (for her blog).

A DJ classmate, the boyfriend of her friend, who played some crazy good beats and had a liking for bubbles (a deadly weapon, it's true).

Her own boyfriend, a guitarist whose father was the famous rock star, Jagged Stone. The only actual, good-looking and sensitive boy who wasn't a rumour (other than her classmates, of course).

Ladybug and Cat Noir. The stunning partners-in-heroics. Never knowing their identities, but trusting in each other nonetheless. Protecting the city from Monarch, the antagonist, the foil, the wrench in their plans. Utilising the power of the Miraculous, they fought akumatized villains and the occasional evilized friend.

Marinette never thought anything else would happen to her life. Surely there wouldn't be another piece on the plate.

But of course, nothing is ever that easy.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

6:00 AM. Monday.

The girl got up. Scars covering her. Bruises wrapping her like a blanket. Her eyes devoid of emotion. Shrugging off her blanket.

She walked down the stairs and began her daily routine. Trudging towards the shower, she turned on the heated water and, after undressing, drenched herself in it, the liquid pounding her on her back. A few recent cuts opened slightly, but at this point, she cared no longer. Blood mixed with water was wiped away, herself ignoring the pain.

After drying down and wrapping a towel around her, she brushed her teeth, careful not to knock anything over with her morning jitters. It wasn't even something she could stop, or even control at this point. Her brain knew what she would go through in a matter of hours, and so it being an inanimate muscle, transferred its feeling throughout her body. But she didn't care. In the girl's opinion, this was a good thing. After all, the day she stopped jittering was the day she stopped caring, and the day she stopped caring was the day she knew that her emotion was lost- and with that, her sanity.

She then began to dress. Taking out her everyday clothes, she methodically put them on. One by one. Underclothes. Then the baggy hoodie, so her recent injuries would rub on them and reopen. Jeans. They didn't help with her injuries much, more just being the part of her clothing that was torn apart the most. However, they were comfy. And airPods. They were easily disguised in her hair, now in a messy, slightly tangled flow. If needed, she could shake her head slightly and they would fall into her hoodie so they wouldn't be found and confiscated.

She skipped breakfast. What was the point anymore, it wasn't like her parents would care enough, and she had to pay to even access the kitchen. Ever since they heard about her lies, instead of believing their own daughter, they believed the lying girl that they'd only known for- not even a month. No, two weeks was enough. At this point, they were just a mother and father- not a mum and dad, but a mother and father- related by blood, not bond. And it wasn't like she felt much of anything, pain and hunger being first and foremost. Now, she felt only a dull, constant ache.

Packing her bags. She had to prepare at this stage. It was one where she had to prepare and 'predict' what would happen today.

Kim pushed her down the stairs? A bandage, plasters and soothing balm. If the rocky asphalt didn't cut her, it would hurt like hell anyway, therefore the balm.

Max hacked into her computer (for the fifth time)? Anti-virus gear, which mostly consisted of anti-malware software. Bought with her own money that she got from working at Designers Et Créateurs, supplying.. well designs at the popular clothing shop. The workers there were so kind, buying her lunch if she ran out of money.. but enough. She had to fill up her bag.