Spirit of the Sphinx || Miraculous Fan Fiction ( Chat Noir X Ladybug X Reader)

Prologue: Good Morning Agent [Y/L/N]

[Y/L/N] = Your Last Name

C.L.A.W = Combat Legionnaire Agency of Weird

** I DO NOT OWN MIRACULOUS NOR YOU, NOR ANY OF THE MIRACULOUS CHARACTERS, HOWEVER SPHINX, #412, AND EVERYONE ELSE IS MINE ***

I was standing in the middle of the school gym during a pep rally, and the cutest guy in school was on one knee with a bouquet of roses, asking me to prom. I was just about to answer when-

Beep! Beep! My dream was interrupted by my alarm clock.

Keeping my eyes closed, I slapped at the alarm button, unwilling to get out of the warm cocoon of blankets. The noise continued and I reluctantly cracked open an eyelid. The room was dark, but I could see that not only was my desk clock not making the racket, the digital readout said 4:00 AM.
"You've gotta be kidding me." I groaned, rolling out of my warm bed and going to my closet. I opened the door and looked up. Sure enough, the fake lightbulb was blinking red. I sighed and pushed aside a rack of clothes, revealing what looked like a small safe with a keypad in the back. I keyed in the combination and the whole back wall slid away with a hiss. Usually I had time to appreciate how cool that was, but today I was too tired to care.

Inside was a secret room right out of a James Bond movie. Communications technology and gadgets lined one wall, while another was lined with disguises and weapons. The fourth wall was completely dominated by a large video monitor, which was at the moment, displaying a blinking incoming message icon. With a yawn I pressed the icon and immediately the image was replaced with the sour face of #412, my C.L.A.W. mission director.

As usual, #412 looked like the lovechild of a librarian and an accountant, with her rectangular spectacles perched on the edge of her beaky nose, her hair pulled back in a severe bun and wearing a tweed suit that was at least fifty years out of date. I often wondered if she popped out of an egg looking that way or if she had just been like that way for so long she was preserved, like a fossil. Not that my appearance was any better at the moment, I was still wearing my ratty PJs and sporting a serious bedhead.

"Agent [ Y/L/N] , " she began, "the Combat Legionnaire Agency of –"

"#412," I interrupt, "it's a little too four in the morning for the whole name, just call it C.L.A.W."

#412 paused in irritation; her face puckering like she'd sucked a lemon before continuing.

"Very well. As I said before, Agent [Y/L/N], C.L.A.W. has a new assignment for you, you'll be leaving within the hour."

Great, I thought, another minor assignment dealing with some local weirdo who thought he could be a supervillain because he happened to have a costume and an evil laugh.

"Where to?" I ask with a sigh. "Downtown? Uptown? No, lemme guess, next town over!"

"Paris." #412 informs me tartly, and my jaw drops.

"Paris? I'm going to Paris? Like, French mimes and the Eifel tower and croissants, Paris?"

"Yes, Agent [Y/L/N] that Paris." Said #412, her mouth twitching slightly in what might've been disapproval. "We were contacted by the Parisian Superhero Emissary, regarding some villains that have been terrorizing the citizens for weeks. Apparently it can no longer be a local problem as their resources are extremely limited. C.L.A.W. was contacted, and asked to send one of their best agents to help deal with the crisis."

"I'm one of your best agents?" I ask, feeling a surge of pride. #412 raises an eyebrow.

"No," she says bluntly, and my happy mood evaporates. "But the Emissary stressed the importance of sending someone who would be able to deal with unexplained phenomena, supernatural creatures and mystical situations."

"You mean magic." I interrupt, and her mouth purses once again in annoyance.

"If such a thing existed, then yes, you will be dealing with...magic." She snaps. "However I have never yet seen anything yet that cannot be explained through science, so for now, let's just agree to disagree on what the Emissary calls akumatized victims that have apparently been terrorizing the city."

"Akumatized? What's that?" I ask.

"I couldn't say, however I have been assured you will be properly debriefed when you arrive." A thought hits me and my spirits sink lower.

"It's...not that I'm not flattered you chose me, but why aren't you sending someone with more experience in this sort of thing? Like Tornado, or the Hellions?"

"Tornado is dealing with a Golem army that was activated in Germany, and the Hellions are tracking a group of vampires who have disguised themselves as a rock and roll band. There were others of course, I considered for the mission, but after your mission with the evil Dr. Scorpion...."

" So technically, you don't really need Agent [Y/L/N] for the mission, you just need Sphinx." I finish, downcast.

"Of course we need Sphinx," #412 snaps, irritated, "we didn't recruit you a year ago for your mediocre intelligence and so-called marital arts 'skills'. If this villain takes over Paris, it could spread to the rest of the world. Sphinx stands the best chance of defeating those villains."

I grab at the chain that's been hanging around my neck for the last two years defensively.

"Hey, don't forget, I'm the one that activated her in the first place." I yell back. "It's not my fault my mediocre intelligence was able to figure out the riddle, but it's too late now, you're stuck with me."

#412 winces slightly and appears to try and compose herself.

"Yes, you're right of course. Sphinx chose you to be her vessel and we must accept it. I need to remember you have done well on your last few missions, despite your age and lack of ... expertise." She clears her throat and continues. "I will send a car around to collect you and take you to the airport. The Parisian Emissary will meet you when you land at Charles de Gaulle Airport."

"Do you at least know the name of the Emissary I'm supposed to meet?" I ask sarcastically. #412 frowns in disapproval then sighs.

"Hawkmoth."