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Marinette took the short path home as she hopped, still transformed, towards her balcony. No sooner than reaching her room, she thrust herself into her bed and her face into her pillow.

“Spots off.”

The suit dissolved and Tikki emerged, hovering about. She was quick to pick up on Marinette’s distress.

“Marinette, is everything okay?”

Marinette turned her head towards Tikki, peeking just a tad out.

"No.” She tersely replied, then turned away again. “I’m not fit to be a superheroine.”

“What? Why would you say that?” Tikki shuddered.

“Why? because I’m not even a real girl and I nearly failed because of that!”

Tikki just stared back, wordlessly.Marinette slowly rose up and sat upright at her bed.

“If being a girl is so much better for me… why wasn’t I just born one? Maybe I should just accept my fate. I can’t win this one.”

Marinette tried to look away as Tikki hovered in front of her, denying her the option to end the conversation just yet.

“Maybe fate has crossed your path with the miraculous because of that? Because your burning desire to be a girl means something?”

Marinette looked back, contemplating Tikki’s words.

“All it means is that I’m a wannabe and that I’ll end up embarrassing everyone who believes in me. Like Alya and Mylene.”

Marinette recalled the conversation back at school lunch. Alya and Mylene sure seemed to think very highly of her.

“They sure don’t seem to think that way, and they should know a thing or two about girl power.”

That much was true, even Marinette had to admit it.

I don’t know Alya and Mylene that much and yet they’ve both already managed to impress me, Alya for standing up to Chloe and Mylene for standing up for what counts in this city. Maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to brush off their instincts, and take their trust as affirmation.

“What is it that makes you think you’re a boy, Marinette?”

Marinette’s mind screeched to a halt.

I might not be a true-born girl… but I’m not a boy either. What the hell am I, again?

“I… I don’t know anymore.” she whispered and Tikki smiled.

Marinette flared up her computer and started looking at some of her designs. She followed by reading some of her hidden computer diary entries.

The more she looked at her designs, the more she read into her diary entries, the muddier the answer in her mind became.

Maybe these tell the story of what I am better than everything else? What is it that makes a design “a girl’s design”? Or a story “a boy’s story”?

Before she noticed it, it was time for dinner, followed by shower and bedtime.

---

It was the last thing Marinette thought would happen to her. Chloe was the first to point at her and explode into mocking laughter, interrupting the morning’s lesson.

“Look at Marin! What’s Gay-boy doing with pink trousers in class?”

Instinctively she tried to cup her breasts, but they weren’t there anymore.

Oh no… the magic… it… dissipated? But… how? Why?

Soon enough, most of the class burst into laughter. She braved a look at herself and her heart sank.

She was back in her boy-suit, the one she thought she had discarded already. The sensation of body hair that she did not miss, back to haunt her.

Everyone laughed at her. Even her teacher! Caline bustier, otherwise a fair and decent teacher, joining up with class, pointing at her.

No. No no no. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening!

She tried to scream, but only muffled sounds came about. She tried to run away, but she felt like her muscles betrayed her. The sounds of laughter echoed around her, piercing her soul.

“Gay-Boy! Gay-Boy in pink!”

She decided she must gather her energy and leave class, but felt herself jerked upwards instead.

Into a seating position, in her bed, covered in cold sweat and panting heavily.

“Are you okay, Marinette?” Tikki flew by, worried.

“It was a nightmare.” she blurted out.

A most vivid one, that’s bound to come to life as soon as the magic dissipates.

Marinette woke up early that day, still exhausted from the night. The sight of herself in the mirror did quite a bit to cheer her up.

It’s not a dream after all. Maybe if I hold onto it, it won’t slip from my grip.

She combed and tied her hair neatly, brushed her teeth and went downstairs to have her breakfast.

“At least you won’t be late today, honey.” Her mom smiled at her.

Having a properly-paced, non-rushed breakfast also proved helpful for her mood. She walked towards school, hoping that the new day would bring relief from yesterday’s battle and that awful night.

---

Mylene was one of the first to enter class, picking up the aptitude test results from the teacher’s desk.

While she feared many things, math wasn’t one of them. The good grades were sure to make her parents happy and perhaps more lenient in letting her go out on more activities like she had wanted.

Then again, someone next to her was clearly unhappy about their test results.

Ivan seemed to be very happy to see her come over, but immediately switched his looks back to his test results and gloominess was quick to take hold.

“What’s the matter, Ivan?”

Ivan paused before spitting it out.

“I… barely passed it. I was this close to flunking it. I’m no good at maths.”

Chloe kept filing her nails as she overheard their conversation.

“Oh, don’t you worry about it, there would still be plenty of higher education options available for people like you.” she commented.

Ivan looked at her, dumbfounded, while Mylene eyed Chloe suspiciously.

What’s she planning? Is it a rare moment of kindness, or a ploy to make things worse?

“ Ecole-de-imbecile , of course. You’ll eke out a meager living hauling boxes for people like me who will run daddy’s hotel.”

And to think I believed it could be the first for even a split of a second.

Ivan grit his teeth and looked like he was about to respond, then looked at his test results again.

“... Up until you become totally useless, at which point you’ll probably find yourself homeless in the streets, your wife dumping you, if you ever had one in the first place. Guess that’s too bad.”

“Chloe, you’re the meanest! Ivan is-” Mylene tried to protest but Chloe was quick to shut her down.

“-a loser, and the world doesn’t need losers in it. Sorry, that’s just how it is.”

Ivan clenched his fist and ran off to the locker room. Mylene looked at Chloe accusingly for a brief moment, only to refocus her attention on following up on Ivan.

---

Light intruded upon Hawk Moth’s domain as his senses picked up on a victim of choice.

“Fear of the future. Fear of who you may become. Uncertainty. Go forth, my precious akuma, let his self-doubt seal the fate for Ladybug and Chat Noir!”

---

Marinette was walking through the corridor, looking at her aptitude test report card, when Ivan nearly bumped into her. She dodged it at the last moment and was quite surprised when Ivan said nothing.

He is usually very nice and polite, despite his brutish looks. That’s not like him not to apologize.

Something must have happened. This doesn’t look good.

Before she had much time to dwell on it, Mylene came about, looking around.

“Marinette, have you seen Ivan?”

“Yeah, he went that way.” She said as she pointed out the direction. “Has anything happened?”

“I’m tempted to just say ‘Chloe happened’”, Mylene replied, “but she’s outdone even herself.

She told Ivan his test results set him for a life of failure.”

“How mean!”

Mylene nodded.

“He deserves so much better than that.”

With that, she rushed forwards to search for Ivan, leaving Marinette behind with more than one thing to think about.

Does this one test really set up our fate for the future?

Of course not! I mean, I’m sure Ivan can change it!

Are we the masters of our own fate, or has it been written for us?

Then again…

She looked at her hands and imaginary boy hands were superimposed on them.

Is my fate in my own hands?

---

The butterfly easily homed on the sobbing student in the locker room, landing on a decorative pin he was wearing.

“ BlueCollar , I am Hawk Moth. Your fate has been rewritten, your destiny now changed. You shall lead a revolution.”

---

Marinette was just leaving class as a confrontation outside on the street drew her attention. It was Chloe and her dad, the mayor, arguing with a figure that seemed like a large and sturdy construction worker.

“Shouldn’t you be doing your job?” Chloe yelled at the figure. “Daddy, tell him!”

“How insolent. I don’t report to you. I’m BlueCollar and I report to Hawk Moth.”

Chloe and the mayor shuddered at these words and tried to back away slowly, but BlueCollar wouldn’t stop.

“Maybe you two will finally do something useful for the people of Paris!” BlueCollar went on and a blue streak of energy engulfed the two of them.

Chloe found herself donning a sanitation worker’s uniform and holding a broom. In a moment, magical compulsion forced her to start cleaning the street, much to BlueCollar’s satisfaction.

Marinette was quick to hide in a nearby alley.

“We’re needed. Time to transform! Tikki, spots on!”

Marinette emerged from the alley, with Chat Noir arriving at the scene at the exact same time.

“Please, Ladybug, Chat Noir, save us from this fate!” Chloe managed to say before BlueCollar’s magical compulsion forced her to tend to her work again.

Marinette barely managed to stifle her giggle.

Isn’t that some poetic justice out there. A taste of your own medicine, Chloe. Maybe a few hours of work would do you good.

Marinette and Chat Noir both hopped on to a higher ground to make plans. Then again, one of them had plans the other probably did not think of.

“So. BlueCollar’s power is making people work for him. We must avoid his strike at all costs.” Marinette remarked.

“We have more than enough work without his powers employing us. But would you like to go for coffee once our work is done?”

Marinette froze in place as she tried to digest his words.

“Huh? Are you… asking me out?”

He flashed a grin.

“Well, all work and no play is a major hassle. I’m a playful cat, try me”

He can’t be serious. My god, what’s wrong with him?

“A playful cat.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And your game is... prowling about, hunting down a superheroine for a superhero.”

“Yep.”

“Swooping someone, from partner to lover. Oh, such brag rights! A game with a prize!”

“I don’t see why not. If you’re into it...” he smiled.

My god. He really knows no limit.

Marinette poked him in his chest.

“Do I look like I’m some prize to be won, partner?”

His smile faded in an instant.

“We save Paris together. Save your romantic aspirations for someone else.”

She then pointed his head towards BlueCollar as he went towards the city hall. “Does this look like a game to you? No? Then this should be your focus.”

Both Marinette and Chat Noir darted down to confront BlueCollar, avoiding his zaps successfully but making little headway.

Chat Noir managed to strike him with his baton, only to feel the recoil as he proved far too sturdy to be impacted. Marinette fared pretty much the same, as he simply flung her away with her own yo-yo.

Making things worse, they were quickly approached by a league of BlueCollar’s supporting workers, armed with whatever they were using for their jobs.

“Looks like we need some pest control.” One of them remarked as he eyed Marinette.

“And a feral cat problem to handle.” another added, looking at Chat Noir.

“Hate to disappoint. I’m fully domesticated. Cataclysm!” Chat Noir called it as he touched the ground, creating a chasm and allowing both Marinette and him to escape to safety.

“Well, we don’t have much time, do we?” Chat remarked and Marinette nodded in agreement.

“It’s time for my thing, then. Lucky charm!” she called it, cupping her hands to grab a falling...

״Miner’s helmet? What am I going to do with that?״

She briefly flicked its headlight on, then flicked it off.

“Okay, Chat, here’s the plan…”

---

BlueCollar kept roaming the streets, until something caught his eye. It was an open manhole in the middle of the road, with an electricity cable running into it.

Clearly, someone was doing maintenance work in a negligent and extremely unsafe manner. No markings whatsoever, no signs to ward off pedestrians and no one to call should help be required.

As BlueCollar approached the manhole, Chat Noir jumped downwards from a nearby building and landed forcefully on his back. BlueCollar fell forwards and upside down, finding himself jammed into the hole, unable to move.

The hole was dark as night, although in a moment he was blinded by what seemed to be a flashlight. A short while afterwards, he managed to see it for what it was - Ladybug wearing a miner’s helmet.

“This site does employ some workplace safety” she commented as she walked slowly towards him. He could only watch as she removed his collar and broke it in two, releasing the akuma.

“No more evildoing for you, little akuma. Time to de-evilize!” she called it, as she whipped her yo-yo and whisked it away.

“Miraculous… Ladybug!”

As she flung the helmet upwards, it burst into a stream of Ladybugs, releasing all those bound to work by BlueCollar’s powers, including Chloe and her father.

---

“Pound it!” Ladybug offered her hand for a fistbump, and Adrien’s was quick to respond in like.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” he offered cautiously.

“It was a close call” she replied, her face showing little emotion, but she quickly softened. “But you do make a great partner. Respect my limits and it will stay that way.”

She followed by a short-lived smile, then hopped away and disappeared.

Adrien’s eyes followed her wake until she was gone from his sight. He breathed in relief, then sighed.

“I guess it’s just partners then. Even if I…”

Even if I want it to be more than that.

I’ve met the girl of my dreams… and I nearly ruined everything.

Is there any way I can get her to see me as more than that? Or are we fated to remain no more than partners?

---

A now de-akumatized Ivan made his way back to class, where Mylene was quick to warmly greet him.

“I’m sorry, Ivan. It’s just one test! And if you want, I’d love to help you with maths.”

“You would? That’s… that’s so wonderful!” Ivan beamed at her words, his joy clear to everyone around. Yet Mylene had more to say.

“But for your own good, you really shouldn’t let Chloe get to you! You’re the kindest person I know and that’s worth so much more.”

“I usually don’t… it’s just that… well…”

Ivan was blushing furiously now as he picked his words.

“I had plans to confess to a girl today and then Chloe just sapped all my confidence.”

“Oh? Who would that be? I-If you don’t mind me asking...”

There was a short pause before Ivan managed to say it.

“It’s you.”

“I was hoping you would say that.” She replied, a wide grin to her face. A moment later, she hugged him tight and his blush deepened by two shades.

“Aww, these two are meant to be together!” Rose said as she dug herself into Juleka’s arm.

---

Marinette smiled as Ivan and Mylene hugged each other, some of their elation sweeping her as well.

Maybe some of our fate lies in the hands of others who love us, that’s not so bad too now is it?

What does fate have in for me?

I seriously hope it’s more of an ‘Adrien’ direction than a ‘Chat Noir’ one!

Chat’s a good partner… and that’s where the line gets drawn.

But Adrien… He’s something special. I got to see a glimpse of a soul so pure.

It’s time for me to take fate into my own hands, and I will.

If I can’t or shouldn’t tweet nudes, perhaps I better tweet nudes of the soul. Part 2.

I can't dance to the beat. I once thought it was a matter of being an over-control-freak. Now I can safely say that this too is fear of rejection. Maybe one day I will finally be able to dance like no one’s watching.

Someone smart who knows me really well told me at the beginning of the process that she was certain I was wrong and that there was nothing feminine about me. Paradoxically, I see it as something very positive. That means I'm adaptable. Symbiotic. And if I managed to adapt to what I am not… I will certainly be able to adapt to what I really am. And yet it feels so hard.

Our past is an integral part of us, an element in who we are, like a garment we wear every day everywhere with us. But being who and what I am, I spend a lot of time thinking about my past gets reinterpreted and how it could have bneen different. So what do I do with this garment? should I take it off? put it on? patch it? cut and sew it? paint it? throw it in the trash and start over? I stand in front of the mirror, unable to proceed. Feeling incomplete with it and feeling incomplete without it.

Even if she does get to live her life as a woman, deep inside there will always be a little girl who’s sure she needs a hug.

I thought I should be cautious of the distant past, that it may rekindle pains that have already been forgotten. But yesterday I found some family photo albums of our family and the kids growing up. Like a punch to the stomach.

How simple these words are. 'I'm not a man and I’ve never really been one. I want you to know a more real and authentic version of me now. ' How these simple words change so much. How these simple words are so difficult to say. How these simple words are so difficult to accept.

“And if I were to tell you that you would never have such a relationship again, would you still choose to transition?" silence. soft crying.

This desire to be accepted, to be like everyone else - is a dangerous temptation. It may make you do things you never thought you would do. Or, in this case, say things that had better not be said. Being unable to keep your secrets is also a form of nudity.

So, I recently had the insight that if it’s pointless for me to tweet nudes of the body, I’ll tweet nudes of the soul. Here are some of my preferred ones, translated:

1. I barely remember anything of my childhood, as if it was all erased.Apparently, whether I like it or not, I have experienced a trans rebirth.

2. As the intensity of my emotions increases, so do the tools I had to deal with them slowly lose their relevancy, as they were essentially masculine. I feel this wave coming and I’m not sure I’m ready for it.

3. Even in my early childhood dreams, when I became a woman I would become a flawed copy of one. Never an equal.

4. I have a designated place in this world - a techie and a man. Every attempt to escape it bears a price. There are gaps that I will never be able fill and there are fights that I must not fight.

5. Sometimes, wearing a garment and standing in front of a mirror leaves you as naked as possible. Proverbially naked from all the defenses you have acquired over the years, layer after layer, afraid of yourself, realizing that something in the figure you see is really you

6. The ease with which you can be a woman online is also a double-edged sword. As if I'm only able to play a woman but not really be one. A keyboard heroine who turns back into a man when the clock strikes 12, or at most a clumsy and awkward woman nothing like the one who exists online.

7. I had planned to write something completely different, but a few things reminded me that transphobia hasn’t gone anywhere. On Twitter, dating sites, literature ...So, I may walk around dressed, but without your support I will be the target of jokes, contempt, prejudice, discrimination and hatred for the sake of it. Defenseless, as naked as the day I was born.

Dress me up.

8. The few feminine experiences I could experience during the COVID-19 period made me very happy, but also confronted me with the life I could have had in other circumstances.

Rationally? I'm guilty of nothing.

Does that keep me from blaming myself? No.

(I would appreciate a signal boost on this) As a fanfic writer, one of the things I get to hear a lot is “you have to write for yourself and if people like it, all for the better.”I hate to say it, but it’s simply wrong because it assumes something which is patently wrong for non-cis people - that we’re not deprived of social acceptance as is.

You see, my day-to-day is an endless fight over my gender identity. Even the people who do respect my pronouns, have a hard time really treating me as a woman. Try as they might (and they do), it’s not easy for them and that’s fine.

But for me, one of the few places I’m liberated from this, is my online writing. In fact, fanfiction writing is generally feminine coded and putting out a successful piece makes me feel a part of that. Makes me feel more feminine. Makes me feel validated about my ability to express and communicate my feelings, an ability I very much consider myself lacking due to my socialization which prioritized other things.

But that’s just surface-scratching it.

I got to put my deepest wishes and desires into writing. I did it subconsciously too. People who may not even know me, run into my stories. Run into my OC, which is almost a self-insert as she packs so much of me into her. They run into my rendition of a certain main character as trans, which packs many of my own personal experiences. I cannot detach my personal attachment to these works. I couldn’t do it even when I was in egg-mode either, and I blamed myself for it too. My line of thought was “Why do you, a cishet guy, have any expectation that anybody owes you anything, much less readership?”

But that didn’t alleviate the feeling in any way. Nothing could get it to subside and it retrospect it’s clear why. When they reject those stories, when they reject my OC offhand as “Not part of the fandom”, it’s a reminder of where I belong and where I don’t belong. As if it’s my fault that none of the cast (as diverse is it may be) can be used to tell my story. It’s my story that they don’t want to hear about.

Then again, it still holds true. Nobody owes any author anything.

Up until they start proclaiming support for trans authors and for diversity, because then we’re talking hypocrisy. People who like pro-trans posts and throw their kudos over easy-to-understand-and-digest trans works. People who would encourage you a thousand times but never read you work.

No.

You’re pigeon-holing trans people into cis narratives. The trans experience can be very deep and if all you’re accepting is your convenience zone, we’ll never have real diversity. Real diversity means complex and challenging narratives, ones that require you to get out of your comfort zone. Few people like to do that with their spare time for a recreational activity, I get it, but nobody said diversity was easy. It sure heck isn’t easy putting myself out there for judgement - and getting heartbroken time and time again. Not unlike the hurt of being estranged from cis society, because it is exactly that, in a way.

Read also on AO3: here first chapter | previous chapter | next chapter

Marinette woke up, still unable to contain her excitement from yesterday.

“Hello, world! Hello, pretty room! And good morning to you too, Tikki!”

Tikki smiled at the sight of her holder’s enthusiasm.

“You better calm down… as far as anyone’s concerned, this is just another typical day for you!”

Those words did very little to dial down her growing enthusiasm. She first headed for her closet and adored her selection of pants and shirts, opting for a pair of pink jeans and a white t-shirt with a flower design. A dark grey blazer seemed to call out to her and she quickly added it to her ensemble.

She looked in the mirror, finding a face full of happiness looking back at her.

It looks so much better. As if that’s how it should have always been.

She quickly fixed her hair into her twin pigtails, flicking one gently and watching it bob about a bit. 

Yes, yes and yes again.

The stairway creaked just a bit as she went downstairs to the kitchen where her parents were already toiling about.

“You don’t want to be running late today, remember the photoshoots!” her mom remarked as she poured her a glass of juice.

Right! I almost forgot about that!

“Thanks mom, I won’t!” Marinette hugged her, then quickly sipped off the juice and took a bite off her sandwich. 

A quick hug given to her dad too and she was off to school, humming a happy tune to herself.

  As she approached the school staircase, she spotted two familiar figures. It was her friend, Nino, casually talking to-

Adrien!

Her heart started beating rapidly, faster and faster.

He’s… I am… I can… I…

Something about her brain refused to function normally, as did the rest of her body. She could have sworn her feet failed her as she tried to approach him and her hands started shaking. Why was Adrien surrounded by a glowing halo?

“Hi, A-adri… Adri…”

And to top it all off, lack of speech capabilities just piled on to the growing list of things breaking down.

“Hi there, Marinette!” he smiled. “What are you up to today?”

“Huh? Oh! Umm… hey… uhh… up… stairs! I’ll… just go to class.”

Marinette quickly climbed up the stairs, looking towards Adrien all the while, as she crashed into another person and was about to lose her balance, just as two hands grabbed her.

“Girl, you had better mind your step!” Alya chided her, though quickly sported a wide grin.

“Well, somebody has a hard time keeping cool next to Adrien, doesn’t she?”

Marinette was quick to turn her face away and downwards, embarrassed. 

“Come on, let’s go to class.”

Marinette finally allowed herself a chuckle and Alya quickly followed through, as they both went to their classroom.

The two sat by their table and considered the schedule for the day.

“Well, it isn’t a new year if we don’t have the customary class photoshoot!” Marinette exclaimed, excited for the event this once.

“And the aptitude tests…” Alya added, reminding her of some of the downsides of a new year.

“Oh right, it’s about to start any moment now!”

  All students quickly sat down and arranged their desks for the aptitude tests. Their knowledge of math and English was to be tested in order to determine and assign them to per-skill teaching groups. Marinette knew she was a good student and her overall euphoria helped boost her self confidence as she started taking the test. She handed in her answer sheet and went outside, enjoying a bit of sun as she watched the photographer arrange the photoshoot set. Soon, a trickle of students came over and joined her as more and more of them finished it as well.

  Hey, I know this guy! It’s Vincent, the fashion photographer! Looks like they aimed high this year.

“Are we ready yet?” Vincent called anxiously, “I have many more classes to shoot!”

“Yeah, everyone’s here, let’s get started!” Chloe added, her impatience mirroring his. 

“Please sort into groups first, all the girls on the left side, all the boys on the right. Then I can start choosing your rows.”

Marinette almost went for the right, as she quickly realized her mistake and corrected it, bringing with it a touch of happiness to her.

I am on the right side now. I mean left. Which is right.

“Seems like we have a prankster. Do you think it’s funny to waste my time like that?” Vincent called out, exasperated.

Who’s he talking to? Well glad it’s not me. 

“Yeah, red-head girl. I am asking you, do you think my time is worthless? Why are you on the boys’ side?”

Oh my god. He’s talking to Nathaniel!

Before anyone could say a word, Chloe burst into utter laughter.

“Of course Nathaniel is a girl, it’s about time he admitted that.”

Marinette considered protesting, but a stream of thoughts held her back for a moment.

Well… if I didn’t look the way I did, I think I would have liked to look like him. It really is a lot more aesthetic then…

Oh, what am I even thinking? That is so unfair! People should not be shamed for their style or looks!

Marinette winced as she recalled moments of her own past, being laughed at for her style choices and fighting her own insecurities about how she used to look.

By the time she recovered and was ready to protest it, she was preempted by Juleka protesting.

“People have every right to-”

“-Make idiots of themselves,” Chloe continued her sentence for her, very much in a way she hasn’t intended to, “and it’s our social obligation to mock them for it.”

That was apparently too much for Nathaniel to bear, as he ran off back towards the school, sobbing.

While the rest of the class except for Chloe were quite glum about it, there was little they could do in delaying the photoshoot. They all complied with Vincent’s instructions and the photoshoot was done.

  ---

  Light shone on Hawk Moth’s lair as its window expanded, triggering a fluttering of the numerous butterflies present. An almost inaudible flap, like bristling of leaves, mixed with the sound of shoe soles pacing against a concrete floor.

“Ah, yes. How terrible it must feel, to be shamed for your aesthetic choices and personal preferences. Come here my little butterfly, let’s put this shame into some good use.”

He infused the butterfly with dark energy and watched it flap its wings as it took towards the Françoise Dupont high school.

  ---

  At last, lunch break was coming,  a much welcome break after the aptitude tests and the photoshoot.

Marinette took little time in deliberating among the choice of school food, as none of it was particularly palatable anyway. She settled on meatballs for the main course and boiled green peas for a side dish and went to sit by herself at one of the food court tables. She took a few bland bites and comforted herself by thinking of the tasty cookie she had in her bag.

The perks of being a baker’s daughter.

“Hey, Marinette, what are you doing there all alone?” Alya called over to her, waving from a nearby table.

Oh… well, I guess I’m no longer eating by myself now. Another most welcome change.

Marinette quickly picked up her food tray and brought it over, sitting next to Alya and in front of Mylene, smiling.

“That’s our table after all.” Mylene grinned.

“One violation of girl code for the day,” Alya noted.

“Are you serious?” Marinette looked at her fearfully, the smile fading off her face.

“Relax, girl. I was joking!” Alya tried to calm her down and Marinette took a deep breath.

Lucky she has no idea why I got freaked about this. At least I can now enjoy a quiet mea-

“Chloe was horrible today!” Mylene ranted. “We have to do something about her!”

“Is there anything we can do?” Marinette asked, and they all deflated, acknowledging the power Chloe had over the school via her dad.

“If only we had Ladybug with us! Have you seen this new superheroine? She is amazing!” Alya swooned. “She could easily deal with Chloe.”

“This city needs a champion of justice!” Mylene wholeheartedly agreed.

“And a girl power icon, too!” Alya added, a gleam in her eye.

If she could still hold the other compliments, the last one was too much for Marinette. She immediately found herself nearly choking on one of her peas.

“Are you okay, girl?”

Luckily, she managed to cough it out without much trouble.

“Yeah, it was just… hard to swallow that’s all.”

And I didn’t mean the food!

Yesterday I would have laughed off the thought I could ever be a girl, and now I’m supposed to set an example?!

And stand up to Chloe?

Talk about pressure!

Alya practically shoved her phone into Marinette’s hands as it played an amateur video of her performance in defeating stoneheart, dashing in between the giants then hopping above them.

“Now tell me that ain’t impressive.”

I wish I could, actually, but...

“I’m starting a blog dedicated to her, I’m going to call it the ‘Ladyblog’...”

Marinette’s internal temperature rose up a few degrees.

“... and I’m going to find out her secret identity!”

Oh no.

“Are you with me on that, girls?”

“Yeah!” Mylene said.

Marinette nodded, trying to deliver her best impression of being into it and they all bumped fists.

  ---

  Nathaniel sought refuge in the art room, his favorite getaway. Here he could be alone to recover from the incident. His hand reached for his pencils and paper and he started doodling about. Soon enough he realized what’s the thing he was sketching - a self portrait.

It does look a bit girly, doesn’t it?

He crumpled the paper in anger as silent tears ran down his face. He paid very little heed to a certain black and purple butterfly that hovered about, then settled onto his paper. Then again, the pair of silvery eyes peering into his soul was something he could not ignore so easily.

  “Reflektor, I am Hawk Moth.” The man now linked to his mind spoke. “How would one tell a book by its cover, if all books were to look the exact same?”

“ Oh yes , Hawk Moth. Grant me your power!”

“In return, you must find me the cat and ladybug miraculouses!”

“It’s a deal.”

  ---

  Marinette, Alya and Mylene picked up their food trays and were about to place them at the collection receptacles, as someone stormed into the lunch area.

He looked somewhat recognizable, but something about him was vastly changed now. All suited up in black and clad with black sunglasses, it barely registered with her why she knew him.

“So how would you like a taste of being a boy, Marinette?” he called over to her and she recognized the voice.

“Nathaniel?”

“It’s Reflektor now.” He corrected her, as a magical ray shot came out of his ring, zapping her. In a moment, she looked exactly like him. Another two ray shots turned Alya and Mylene to copies of Reflektor as well.

“No, this isn’t good!” she cried.

“Let’s hope Ladybug comes over quickly and saves us.” Alya responded.

She’s right, I can’t let them down!

Marinette rushed outside the lunch zone, carelessly bumping into someone along the way, another victim of Reflektor.

“Hey, you idiot boy, watch where you’re going!”

“Chloe?”

Something about the speaker’s tone and mannerisms made her quite certain of her identification.

“Obviously. And I guess you’re that loser Max, am I right?”

Marinette paid no heed to her as she rushed forward to find a place to transform, but an errant thought stuck to her.

Boy. She called me a boy. Is it just this suit and appearance?

Or maybe… maybe without my magic, everyone sees right through me?

After all, I did know immediately she was Chloe. Something about her radiated it.

She brushed those thoughts away.

No time for this now, I must find a place and transform. My friends and everyone in school are counting on me!

  ---

  After a few minutes of frantic searching, Marinette finally found a hidden spot she was comfortable with.

“Tikki, spo-”

“Wait, Marinette! There’s something I have to tell you!” Tikki managed to stop her in time. 

“What is it, Tikki?”

Tikki fidgeted a bit with her hands.

“Since Reflektor transformed you, in order to undo this, I will have to use my maximal power.”

I don’t like the sound of that, at all.

“Be careful, Marinette. If you are defeated or detransform at this form, you will be exposed as a boy.”

I don’t have much of a choice though, do I?

“It’s a risk we’ll have to take. Tikki, spots on!”

  ----

  Marinette ran through the corridors looking for Reflektor, to no avail. All she found were students and teachers who have already been turned. It was time to hit the courtyard, where she’d be more vulnerable. She moved from one cover to another, as another figure flipped and landed next to her.

“If you saw me, then Reflektor could just as well.”

“Milady, I can definitely spot you in the crowd, you do stand out.”

“Save your puns for another time, Chat Noir!” She called as a zap shot barely missed her. Instinctively she flipped to evade yet another one and threw her yo-yo towards Reflektor, but came short.

“He’s too far from us, we have to get close somehow! Any ideas?” she called to Chat, who was nimbly flipping away, narrowly avoiding zap shots aimed at him as well. Reflektor was quick to dish them out, one at a time.

“Nothing!” he called back.

She quickly retreated, needing a touch of safety to call in her special ability.

“Lucky charm!”

Marinette cupped her hands and was served with a pair of mid-sized parabolic mirrors, enough to cover a fair swath but still small enough to be handheld.

A pair of parabolic mirrors? Whatever am I going to do with that?

Oh, it's easy!

“Chat, here’s your new year’s gift!” she called as she tossed one of the mirrors towards him and he caught it mid-air. Using it as a handheld shield, he was quick to deflect one of the zap shots fired at him.

“Well, that sure is handy !”

Chat closed the distance between him and Reflektor, almost enough to hit him with his baton, as a zap shot almost hit him. He had to fall back yet again, in order to assess the situation. Marinette tried as well, with similar results. It did make perfect sense - the nearer they got, the quicker their reflexes had to be as well as devote more attention to the shots, making it impossible for them to strike.

Perhaps that’s not how I am supposed to use it… Oh, I have an idea!

As she drew nearer, she did her best to calculate the Reflektor’s position and the exact location of her parabolic mirror. As the next shot came, she positioned herself as accurately as possible.

Zap!

The shot reflected off the mirror and directly hit Reflektor back.

Yes! I did it!

Reflektor chuckled as he just shot another one at Ladybug.

Dang it! He’s immune to this!

Another shot was fired at her, one which she deflected as well… towards Chat Noir, unintentionally.

“Kitty, look out!”

He deflected it in the last moment, just as the shot found itself aimed at her, as she ducked for cover.

I was lucky he didn’t zap me as I was evading the shot that bounced back at me!

“No time to play tennis, my lady!” Chat cried.

Wait a minute… no time?

Her earrings beeped yet again.

What beep was it? Third? Fourth?

Oh no. Oh no oh no!

“Chat Noir, cover for me, I’m about to transform back!”

  Marinette fled the scene, quickly spotted a maintenance closet and jumped in, slamming the door from the inside and locking it shut.

  The final beep commenced as Marinette cowered inside the closet, coiled into a fetal position. It was very cold, almost totally dark, save for the blinking lights of the computer equipment installed above.

At the very least, the darkness helped her avoid the sight of the boy suit she was forced to wear again. But the cold mirrored her internal chill as thoughts raced in her mind. 

  My girlhood is but a fleeting and fickle echo of the real thing. At the risk of being exposed as an act, ending my superheroine career along the way.

A true born girl wouldn’t have had to deal with this.

What would Mylene and Alya think if they ever found out who their girl icon really is?

Or, more importantly, what she is… and isn’t!

I nearly got Chat and myself hit, due to my recklessness!

Everyone in school is counting on me and everyone will know it is I who failed them. They will know someone like me could never be a true superheroine.

  She tried to contain her tears, to no avail. The thought of losing it all so quickly and so decisively was too much for her to bear. The best she could do was quiet it down, the silence uninterrupted as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Tikki… help me, please.” she managed to whisper.

“Do you have a cookie, Marinette?”

Marinette quickly reached for her bag, her uneaten cookie from lunch still stored in it.

I am going to carry dozens of these from now on, I swear to god.

Hands shaking, she reached for her cookie and handed it to Tikki. Tikki grabbed it and began eating quietly as Marinette watched. 

The time it took Tikki to take each bite of the cookie seemed like a painful eternity. The sound of every footstep on the outside was foreboding, in particular when she identified another speaker.

“Where did Ladybug go?” This must be Alya.

Oh no. No no no.

Alya neared the closet as a loud breaking sound was heard, distracting her and pulling her away from the closet, much to Marinette’s relief, who was on the verge of fainting.

“Tikki…” she whispered.

“I’m finally ready, Marinette.” Tikki replied as she finished off the last of the cookie’s crumbs.

“Tikki, spots on!” she whispered, as the suit and mask materialized over her.

I have to find a way to defeat him.

  Marinette went to the courtyard, but Chat Noir wasn’t there. A quick stroll through the corridors found him almost exhausted and taking a short rest.

“Ladybug, we have to come up with something. If I engage him too much I’ll just wear myself down.”

She felt that one too, he didn’t need to explain further. The constant blocking and evasion as well as keeping guard was taking its toll.

Maybe I was wrong about the parabolic mirrors. Maybe there’s something else we need to do with them.

With that, bits and pieces of the fight replayed in her mind as she tried to search for the solution, the thing that evaded her.

What if…

Yes, that’s it!

“Okay kitty, we were close enough, we just played the wrong game!”

She whispered a few words to him and he nodded in approval.

  Chat Noir entered the courtyard and jumped up towards the upper platforms, as Marinette entered from below.

“Didn’t you two have enough by now? You can’t defeat me. I am the Reflektor! You will soon look like me!”

Now time to taunt him… I so want this to end already.

Marinette stuck her tongue out at him, blowing a raspberry.

He grit his teeth.

“Just who do you think you are?”

He fired a shot at her, which is exactly what she was waiting for. She angled her mirror upwards, as the shot deflected towards Chat Noir, then began fixing her mirror to the staircase railings. Chat Noir reflected the shot back at the mirror, bouncing it once or twice before it became fully attached and static.

“It’s not tennis, it’s one player squash!” he chuckled as he sent the shot towards the other mirror once more.

“And there’s only one ball, apparently!” Marinette grinned as well, as she charged towards Reflektor, now unable to use his ring as long as one shot was already out there.

He tried to jump towards the shot’s path to make it hit him and dissipate, only for Marinette to quickly pull him down with her yo-yo and bring him to her.

“Nuh-uh, can’t interrupt a game in the middle!”

Her hand reached for the crumpled paper in his pocket, taking it out and tearing it apart, releasing the akuma.

“No more evildoing for you, nasty bug!” she called it as she whisked the butterfly with her yo-yo, releasing a pristine white one.

“Bye-bye little butterfly!”

“Miraculous… Ladybug!” she called as both she and Chat tossed their mirrors upwards, a stream of ladybugs clearing any damage done and returning victims to normal.

Nathaniel detransformed and Marinette was quick to tend to him.

“Hey… Nobody deserves to be shamed for how they look, whether by fate or by choice.”

He looked at her and he smiled.

“Thanks, Ladybug.”

If only I could have shared with you just how much of this abuse I got myself… but at least now it’s a touch of relief.

“How about you arrange an alternative class shoot of your own? I’m sure your classmates would be happy to help.”

His face now really brightened at the suggestion.

“Yes! That’s a wonderful idea!”

She turned towards her partner who had just landed next to her.

“Pound it!” She called and both bumped fists.

“About today’s meeting… Can we make it tomorrow? I’m... too tired, I guess”

“Sure, Ladybug.”

  ---

  Chat Noir looked at his superheroine partner as she flung her yo-yo and disappeared from sight.

Let’s not delay much more than that, he thought. I really, really want to see more of you. You might just be the most awesome girl I’ve ever met in my entire life.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone else.

Read also on AO3: here

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The sound of bird chirping accompanied the rain waning down. 

“Petrichor,” Marin quipped as he took in a deep breath of that musky smell, and sat down at one of the park benches to contemplate his first day at school.

  So… Chloe is with me in class, that is a major disappointment. But Adrien… that’s something I did not expect, at all. 

  A homeless person lay next to Marin. He considered how the rain must have not been kind to them, yet they still looked cheerful enough.

The woman rose up and looked at him with mild curiosity, then suddenly a smile of recognition came about her.

“Hey… I know you, you’re the Dupain-Cheng kid, aren’t you? I used to order bread from your bakery.” The woman said. 

“Oh?”

Marin tried his best to jog his memory, but to no avail.

“Fanny. Fanny de Travers.”

Oh!

He had vague memories of her as a polite lady, but not much more.

“I used to work as a freelance tailor, until I became too sick to practice the trade.”

That jogged his memory a bit. He now remembered she used to show his mom some embroidery occasionally. In fact, it may have been one of the few things that kindled his interest in fashion.

“You know what, Fanny? Wait right here, I’ll be back in a moment!”

Like any self-respecting bakery, the Dupain-Cheng boulangerie had a bag for unsold goods that were destined for charity. Marin quickly picked some of the best he could find from it, wrapping it up and hurrying back to the park.

Much to his surprise, when he came back, Fanny was already chatting freely with one of his classmates.

“Mylene?”

“Oh, Hi there Marin!” She said, as both her and Fanny looked at his wrapped bread. “I didn’t know your bakery was part of the anti food waste program!”

Fanny couldn’t have been happier at the sight, followed by the smell and the taste.

“That tastes real good, reminds me of the times I could actually afford it.”

She took one good crunchy bite, then sighed, pocketing the rest in her jacket.

“Do you two know each other?” Marin asked, mildly surprised at the unexpected encounter.

“Mylene is an activist, I’ve seen her once or twice in demonstrations.”

Mylene nodded in approval. “Just doing my small share at making sure Paris is a better city for everyone.”

Marin wasn’t sure if he ever excelled at reading people’s sincerity, but something about Mylene’s enthusiasm seemed highly convincing. 

It’s quite nice to have someone like her in class.

“Now, I’m really sorry to bid you farewell; there’s a demonstration I’m going to.”

“Oh!” both Fanny and Marin exclaimed. “What’s it about?”

“I don’t actually know yet,” she admitted sheepishly. “We’ll get all the details soon.”

Just as she made that statement, several city construction workers started spreading around the park, taking measurements and making chalk marks.

“Hrm? Is something going on?”

“We’d have to ask you to leave soon. We’re about to install new benches in the park.”

“New benches, that’s really nice!” Fanny looked at the construction workers, hopeful.

“Ha. Wait until you see them,” one of them responded, a mysterious smile to him and a certain gleam in his eye. Something about Fanny seemed to deflate at that moment as her movements slowed down and her senses seemed to sharpen. It was that moment when another of the construction workers gave her a friendly pat to the back and said “I’m terribly sorry.”

“What would you be sorry about?” she asked, almost instinctively, even though her expression gave in that she was starting to realize it. In a few moments, they all saw the crane hauling over the new bench. 

Marin had never slept in the street, but it was obvious to him there was no way anyone could ever sleep on that angled stone slab, much less with the bars attached at strategic locations and the shallow, but disruptive, segmentation.

“No, please…” Fanny begged, to no avail, as Marin’s heart sank at the cruelty.

Who’s to hear her cry, a plight to be allowed some dignity in her sleep?

And even if the construction workers were to listen and open their hearts to her plea, was there anything they could do about it?

Marin watched Fanny’s head droop as she slowly walked away from them.

“Try the other way,” the friendly construction worker called to her. “It will be a longer while before installation plans reach that part of the city.”

“I… I guess that’s what today’s protest is about.” Mylene sighed deeply. “I better hurry.”

“Can I… can I come with you?” he asked, and Mylene nodded.

  ---

  A whirr of a motor disrupted the silence as rays of light disrupted the darkness as well, opening just a bit of Hawk Moth’s lair to the world.

“Yes. Just the feelings I need. Despair against a merciless municipality. Rage against civil servants with a heart of stone. Fly away, my precious akuma, and evilize her!”

  Fanny walked aimlessly, trying to get as far as she could from that park. Eventually, she succumbed to the thoughts of futility and leaned her back at one of the trees on the boulevard, sobbing. Another pedestrian casually bumped into her, not even bothering to utter an apology.

She looked about, paying no special attention to the odd butterfly that approached her, as it landed on the piece of bread sticking out of her jacket’s pocket.

  It was then when she felt some kind of mental link being formed and silvery eyes prying into her soul.

“ Stoneheart. I am Hawk Moth. Wouldn’t you like to repay those who failed to listen to your pleas, those with a true heart of stone?”

“With pleasure, Hawk Moth”.

The purple-black mist enveloped her, as she morphed into Stoneheart, a giant made of pure stone.

  ---

  Marin and Mylene were walking at that very same boulevard, as a deafening sound and a shake of the earth rattled them to their core.

They both looked at Stoneheart with great fear, their minds doing their best to comprehend its existence, with little success.

“What… What is that thing?” Mylene cried. Marin was swift to pull her from its way as its foot crashed into the ground, seemingly ignoring them both, much to their relief.

“I don’t know, but we had better run away!” Marin answered as both nodded and fled the boulevard.

Marin ran off as quickly as he could, his feet carrying him away towards the safety of his home. He tried his best to forget about the scene he just witnessed, to no avail. It’s not like he was empowered to do anything about it anyway, now was he?

Well, at least Alya would be very interested, I bet she’d love to chase and photograph the thing. 

Just as he was about to fetch his phone from the school bag and call her, something dropped out of it, an object he did not recognize. He picked it up and examined it thoroughly.

The thing looked like a highly ornate tiny box made of lacquered black wood with strange engravings.

“Huh? What’s that doing here?”

He cautiously opened the box, curious as to the pair of earrings found inside, as a tiny red creature with a black dot on their forehead emerged. 

“First a monster and now I’m imagining things,” he quipped.

“Huh? Well, imagine this!” The creature flew and forcefully smacked right into his right side.

“Ouch, what did you do that for?”

Wait a minute...

“You’re real!”

“Yes! My name is Tikki and I’m a Kwami.”

“My dad must be pranking me.”

Marin waved his hand as if trying to find the strings that supposedly make Tikki move.

“We don’t have time for this, you have to listen. We have to beat Stoneheart.”

Marin looked at her with intent from several directions, going ‘hmm’ as he did.

“You’re a bit too small for that.”

“Don’t be silly. There’s something super inside you waiting to be unleashed.”

“The only thing I’m super at is being the school’s super laughing stock!”

Tikki seemed to ignore his statement.

“Just memorize the important parts. The invocation of your special power is by saying ‘lucky charm,’ but you will detransform after five earring beeps, so wait for the right moment to use it.”

Marin looked at her, still thoroughly unconvinced, though he did place the earrings over his ears as Tikki expected him to.

“Okay… I’ll try to remember all of that,” he said.

“And after that, you need to find the akumatized item, break it, then capture the butterfly using your yo-yo.”

Marin nodded.

“I still think this is all some kind of a prank.”

“Then you wouldn’t mind saying ‘spots on’, would you?” Tikki seemed to taunt him.

“Spots… on?”

  ---

  Marin got a glimpse of Tikki’s form getting sucked into his earrings. By then, he was no longer able to suggest it was a prank. His body seemed to gain a life of his own, his hands motioning over his eyes, a red mask forming over them. The transformation then proceeded towards the rest of his body, covering it with a red-and-black hexagon patterned suit and the yo-yo Tikki promised formed near his hip.

“Well, that’s a surprise,” he said, as he looked at himself in the mirror and he realized it was far more surprising that he had initially imagined.

“I’m… a girl now?”

Something about those words felt right. Too right. Almost temptingly right.

Too tempting… and not true.

I may have a girl alter ego, (s)he thought, but that doesn’t mean I am a girl, now does it?

(S)he wasn’t too surprised that the feeling still lingered on, despite her supposedly-rational thought about it. The image in the mirror was too hard to fight off.

(S)he casually waved her hand and was still surprised that the image in the mirror did the exact same.

“Well then… it’s time to save the world, isn’t it, Tikki?”

There was no response.

“Oh my, guess she’s part of my suit. Perhaps that’s why I have a feminine form!”

That revelation made her feel joy at figuring it out and the same time cast some unexplained sadness upon her.

As if (s)he wanted to have a genuinely feminine part to have brought about that form. But alas, (s)he was a boy. A not-so-happy fate, as far as (s)he had considered, but a fate nonetheless.

“So. Ladybug.” she whispered.

My girl persona.

I have a girl persona.

I’m free to act like a girl when I’m wearing this suit.

  ----

  Marin left her room to her porch as she considered her options. She pulled out the yo-yo and an idea came to mind, about using it as a means of transport.

It’s a bit crazy but worth a try, I guess?

A quick toss and it latched perfectly upon a stone gargoyle in a nearby cathedral. She tugged it and found herself thrust forward.

That works!

She quickly landed at the cathedral’s balcony, where another figure stood. One very similar to her, though clad in black. Being the Ladybug-themed superheroine, then he must be-

“Chat Noir, pleased to meet you. You must be the partner my kwami told me about.”

“Well, my kwami failed to mention any partner…” she said, “But two against one sounds better.”

“Uhh… About that, I have some really bad news, partner,” Chat Noir called as he pointed towards the street below them. A group of Stoneheart clones were now thrashing through Paris. In between them, she spotted one wearing a familiar jacket.

Fanny?

The jacket-wearing stoneheart pointed towards a nearby beggar and they instantly turned into yet another clone of theirs, joining their growing army.

“We have to stop them before they get out of control!”

Chat Noir was quick to vault towards the scene and Marin followed, using her yo-yo yet again as means of transport. Chat Noir was careless enough to land smack in the middle of a group of stoneheart clones, while Marin was much more careful in planning her landing.

“Cataclysm!” he called it and touched his hand to the ground, causing a minor chasm to open up and giving him cover to vault away to safety.

“Wow, that was so cool! better have another one ready,” he suggested. “Cataclysm!” He called it again.

Marin stared at Chat Noir who seemed perplexed that his super-power wasn't recharging on its own.

“Looks like your Kwami failed to mention important things too! You only have one shot at it. It’s all up to me now, I guess. LUCKY CHARM!”

Marin cupped her hands to find a firehose dropping into them.

A firehose? That’s almost too easy!

“Cover me, partner!” she said, and Chat Noir was quick to fend off some stoneheart clones with his baton and allow her to reach one of the fire hydrants. As she plugged it, she tried her best to aim at Stoneheart’s pocket, to no avail.

I have to do better than this.

She quickly slid between the legs of some other stoneheart clones, jumping over yet another two and stuffing the hose straight into the pocket in Stoneheart’s jacket.

The torrent of water was quick to dislodge and soak the piece of bread, swiftly breaking it apart. In a moment, all the Stoneheart clones detransformed, leaving behind dazed people, as the akuma butterfly fluttered away.

“You’re done causing trouble, little akuma!” she called as she tossed her yo-yo away, whisking the butterfly into her yo-yo.

“Bye bye, pretty butterfly!” she waved at the now white purified butterfly, then looked at the fireman’s hose she carried.

“Miraculous… Ladybug!” She cried as she tossed the hose sky high and it burst into a shower of ladybugs, going about Paris and correcting whatever damage Stoneheart had caused.

  An earring beep reminded her of her time limit.

“Tomorrow at eight, same cathedral. Don’t be late, partner!” She bid him farewell and quickly ran off.

  ----

  Her earrings made their final beep just as she hid herself in the alley and detransformed.

“I was… a superheroine,” she mumbled. “But now I’m a boy again, I’m-”

Something about being Ladybug thrilled her far more than just her superpowers.

Something about the suit seemed to fit in a way that was much more than merely physical.

The thought about being a boy again made her sick to her core and by now she realized very well why.

She’d be forced to forever live out the gap between her feminine alter ego, let loose in superheroine form, and the boy life she has to endure.

The bullying. The harassment. Laughed at for being gay.

If only I could actually be Ladybug. If only I truly had that in me.

As if to reinforce that exact thought, her school bag just slipped away and its contents spread around, reminding her of the very thing she wished to forget. A gentle, manicured hand picked up her history book and her eyes went wide.

The scrawl was gone.

Huh?

As if by themselves, tears of happiness poured out, as her hand gently fluttered over the now-clean history book.

It’s gone! that… that awful thing, no longer here to haunt me. The blatant reminder of my supposed place. How many tears have I shed over this?

In-between her tears, she also noticed something else. Her hand, which was feeling the book, was now different as well.

How could I have missed that?

Gentle. Manicured.

A girl's hand.

Wait.

Hold it right there for a minute.

No… it can’t be… it’s… I…

I didn’t change back.

I DIDN’T CHANGE BACK!

Hands gently trailed her now feminine features, stroking her face which was previously slightly bearded (much to her chagrin), now smooth to the touch. Cupping her breasts, squeezing them just a touch.

They’re… real. It’s all real!

She looked at herself and something just felt feminine, right . (She would only later be able to identify it as body fat distribution changes)

“I…”

She began saying something, then stopped as her own voice startled her. It was now higher-pitched than before. As if she hadn’t gone through this awful puberty.

Feelings of joy, surprise and fear of the unknown overwhelmed her. She collapsed at the nearest bench, crying her heart out.

“Are you okay, girl?”

“I’m… girl… I…”

She called me a girl. I’m a girl now. I’m really a girl now.

“Do you need some help?”

I… but… do I even know the least thing about actually being a girl?

This thought made her dizzy, as another began to chase her.

I’m a girl now. That’s… ten times as hard, isn’t it? Being so… 

Tikki… I have to talk with Tikki.

“I’m fine,” she mumbled towards the woman, as she made haste home, ignoring everything and everyone who stood in her way as she barged through the bakery’s door, the bell ringing loudly.

“In a hurry, Marinette?” Her dad called, but it barely registered in her mind. She quickly opened the door to their home and quickly climbed the stairway, opening the door to her room then gaping in awe.

  ---

  “It’s… it’s beautiful!” she squirmed full of excitement. Her room now looked nothing like she had remembered it. Her eyes were first drawn to the pink upholstery, replacing the drab grey memory and evoking glee at the cuteness it radiated. The lounge chaise was a perfect match and she had to restrain her urge to immediately jump and lay over it. Her feet dragged her as if by their own volition to her desk, colorful and inviting, tastefully decorated with various trinkets.

“Awesome!” she almost screamed as she sat on her chair.

“So, I take it you like your new room!” A high pitched sound was heard, as Tikki emerged from her purse.

Wait, I have a purse? And it’s all pretty and pink? 

“Well then, Marinette, how do you like your new life?”

Marinette blushed furiously.

“I… it’s… it’s everything I ever wished for, without even knowing it. Even my new name feels… perfect.”

That admission only managed to further her embarrassment at being unable to get a good grip on the situation and she tried her best to look away from Tikki.

“So, I should tell you exactly how it works, then.” Tikki zipped in front of Marinette again, denying her the privilege of looking the other way.

“The Miraculous Cure has rewritten everyone’s knowledge of you and reshaped your life. Should you ever want to reverse it, you will need to call for the Miraculous Cure again with that intent.”

Marinette chuckled.

“I… don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

“As for your own body, this one couldn’t be handled by the Cure as it avoids subjectively fixing you.”

“Oh?”

Well, that does make some sense, I guess?

“So, I am sustaining that magic using a small portion of my power. Should you need your maximum power, you can ask me to drop it temporarily.”

“Well, I don’t see that happening either. Tikki, things are... ”

She paused, trying to contain her excitement.

“Things are the best they have ever been. I am looking forward to school and living my new life.”

Marinette looked at her bed that suddenly looked oh-so-inviting, both on account of how it looked and on account of her being so tired.

“Guess it’s time for me to go to bed… Good night, Tikki!”

“Good night, Marinette.”

Marinette tucked herself into bed, a wide smile to her that refused to fade.

  ---

  Dear Marinette… While I did this much for you, your quest towards accepting who you really are is far from done. The real challenge lies deep within you.

Asked to leave a server for the crime of *checks notes* being over 30 years old. I spared you all the part where they suggested all adults over 30 are potential groomers. This also came after I explicitly explained the vicious intersection between ageism and transphobia - namely, that I am “a man in a dress” that uses pro-trans sensibilities to get closer to teens.