What happens when Chloe takes torturing Marinette just a smidge to far? What happens when Hawkmoth tries to akumatize the crying bluenette that is sitting on the bathroom floor? What happens when Marinette has to give up her miraculus? What happens...
I guess you could say that, in the end, Chloe saved Paris.
Your probably confused.
To clarify, Chloe saved Paris by getting me akumatized.
Still confused?
I should probably start at the beginning.
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I ran through the streets of Paris, heading to the school. I had slept through my alarm, yet again. Ugh. And to make things worse, it's a Monday. Literally the worst day of the week.
I burst into the classroom, out of breath. "Sorry I'm la-" The teacher cut me off.
"Marinette, this is the thirtieth time you've been late to class over the past month and a half. I'm done with it. Go to the principal's office!"
"B-b-b-but-" Again I was cut off.
"Oh, look at the poor s-s-stuttering baby." Cooed Chloe. "Go on, can't you understand simple words? Or are you too stupid? The teacher said go, so you better get out of her quick, you little rat." She put an emphasis on the word rat.
I shakily gathered up my things that Chloe had 'accidentally' knocked out of my hands. My sketchpad was near Chloe's feet.
"Go on, Mari-trash, pick up the garbage on the floor! Oh, you can't do that, you would have to get in the air, wouldn't you!" She slurred.
"Oh, what's this?" she asked as she picked up Marinette's sketchbook, where all her designs where. She scoffed as she looked through the pages.
"You actually think these are good? Shows how dumb you are." She sneered. As she continued to flip through the pages, she saw one of the sketches that was meant for Adrien.
"Oh... does the little nothing like Adrien? Well to bad for you, Mari-trash, he will NEVER like you back. Let me repeat, N-E-V-E-R. Who would like a worthless piece of garbage? Nobody, that's who." She smiled a seemingly sweet smile.
RIP!
Marinette snapped her head up, tears in her eyes.
There was Chloe, ripping up the designs that she had poured countless hours, and her very soul, in to.
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
RIP!
One by one, every single sketch was ripped into unrepairable pieces. Every, single, one.
Marinette scooped up the broken remains of her sketchbook, taking care to stuff each and every last piece into her bag, before she fled the room, crying.
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