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toxinellebug · 9 months

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Shadybug/Claw Noir Christmas PART 1

HEAD CANON TIME!

You know that Xmas in Paris with those two on the loose wouldn’t be a Silent Night.

I imagine the nightly curfew to be indoors would still be in effect, even during the holidays, but that wouldn’t stop people from having holiday parties provided their guests stay overnight… And what better party could there be than the Bourgeois Christmas Gala, held at the Le Grand Paris Hotel? An extravagant and EXCLUSIVE black tie event for the richest/most influential people and Celebrities in Paris! There’s dancing and dining and only the BEST decorations money can buy! And THIS year, Chloe plans to make it an unforgettable event where she will kiss her Adrikins under the mistletoe, and she even had her daddy invite news photographers to document the whole thing so she can rub it in the smug face of that Lila Rossi who had the AUDACITY to suggest that she and Adrien should spend time together over winter break since this year she wouldn’t be going to her Uncle’s ski-lodge in the Swiss Alps, due to re-modeling.

This will prove once and for all that Adrien is HERS, and the riff-raff should all back off!

Chloe was sooo nice, she even made Daddy hire Adrien’s favorite bakery to cater all the baked goods for the party… Provided that loser Dupain-Cheng doesn’t step foot inside and infect the place with her lameness.

It’s a brilliant, fool-proof plan to make this THE. BEST. CHRISTMAS. EVER!

…Adrien is convinced this is the WORST Christmas ever. Scratch that, CHRISTMAS is the worst ever!

It’s the first winter without his mom, and the Bourgeois’ had the nerve to invite him to a PARTY? For WHAT? So he can force himself to laugh at celebrities’ lame jokes, and begrudgingly waltz with rich people’s daughters who can barely avoid stepping on the hem of their gaudy, sparkly dresses, drink sparkling cider and play hokey, out-dated party games and pretend he’s having fun?!

His mother is GONE, and he’s supposed to just act like everything is Merry and Bright?? Thankfully, his father has already turned down the invitation. He’ll probably be chewed out by Audrey for missing this golden opportunity to show off his new formal winter collection though.

Gabriel promised him that they didn’t have to do any sort of Holiday appearance or event. Which is perfect because Adrien doesn’t think he could manage to smile for any cameras right now… But he still can’t believe his father wants to celebrate at all?? What is there to celebrate?? His father actually put up a tree! And asked him to help him put on the ornaments… Just like they did with mom every year. Does he seriously expect them to just decorate the tree like nothing has changed? What’s next? They watch cheesy old xmas movies while snacking on cinnamon cookies and Les Papillotes and then eat Father’s greasy fried cooking for dinner at Midnight? Were they just going to pretend everything was fine and just the same as always???

How could it be christmas without Mom to tie lopsided red ribbons just to tease father before adding way too much Cheveux d’ange to the tree? How is it christmas without mom’s cheeks turning pink from too much vin chaud while watching “L'assassinat du Père Noël”? How is it christmas without her singing along to the carols on her vinyl record player as they set the table while Father is so focused on the Amandine and the fried bugnes that he lets the Turkey burn?

It WON’T be the same, and he doesn’t want it! He just wants to lock himself in his room and wait for this miserable day to be over!

Gabriel is hurt, but Nooru suggests that Adrien needs his space so he shouldn’t insist- it will only push him farther away. Gabriel knows the holidays will never be the same, but he has hope that they could still be special even if it’s just the two of them now… But, only when Adrien is ready.

But Adrien isn’t going to be ready… In fact, Adrien had an idea- an AWFUL idea. Adrien had a wonderful, awful idea: Why should HE be the only one who is miserable?

Claw Noir would turn this Holy Night into a Massacre! He’d smash every window full of holly, and each and every wreath he could find would serve as kindling when he burned the giant tree in the center of Place de la Concorde to the ground! He wouldn’t be satisfied until everyone in Paris was as miserable as him!!!

…There was no one in Paris more miserable than Marinette.

Christmas was always a busy time for the bakery; Bûche de Noël, Biscuits de Noël, Pain d'épices, Pompe à l'huile, Oreillettes, sables au cumin, and SO. MANY. CINNAMON. COOKIES.

But THIS year, in addition to the usual amount of fare for regular customers, they had been given a huge order to fill for the Bourgeois Christmas Gala; they wanted EVERYTHING, and despite their exclusive guest list, they seemed to want enough to feed all of Paris! Which meant that most of it would end up going to waste in the trash once the party was over.

The party that her PARENTS would have to attend in order to deliver and serve the guests, which meant that they would be spending all of Christmas Eve and into Christmas morning at the Hotel, while Marinette stayed at home…. Alone.

All because of that selfish, vile Chloe Bourgeois- even if they are no longer in the same class, that witch STILL finds a way to take EVERYTHING from Marinette, now even her own parents??? …No, not just Chloe. It’s also the fault of that spoiled Adrien Agreste! Apparently Mr. Super Model is an extremely picky eater, which meant it HAD to be her parent’s bakery that catered the Gala, because whatever Agreste wants, Agreste GETS. Those two truly were a perfect pair.

After being forced to help bake and run the register all day, Marinette is now alone on her rooftop balcony, freezing cold but at least she can finally escape the oppressive odor of cinnamon that has saturated her whole house. She hates cinnamon. She hates Chloe Bourgeois and Adrien Agreste. But most of all, she HATES CHRISTMAS!

Thanks to Enforcers patrolling the streets to make sure Parisians are inside after dark, the city is silent, save for the tinkling of glass being smashed.

Windows are broken, snowmen are toppled, and wreaths are snatched as Claw Noir makes his way towards the main public square; Chestnuts roasting on an open fire? How about a raging inferno instead?!

An old man watches from his window- he is alone on the Holidays, as always. No family to spend festivities with, no Christmas feasts with 13 desserts to distract him. All he has is nostalgia and memories of the christmases of his youth, back when he was still just a boy, back when this holiday was still about GIVING, back when people still told stories of Santa Claus before it was considered fanatical socialist propaganda, back before… The Supreme.

Christmas these days is nothing like the old days. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t still precious!

He can’t get a clear view of whatever miscreant is causing the damage from his window, but he can see the path of destruction left behind. And he knows that even though the Enforcers will no doubt hunt down and punish that ne'er-do-wel, they will not bother to clean up or repair the damage.

Who would do such an awful thing? If only there was SOMETHING he could do to help…

He doesn’t notice the faerie white butterfly that passes through his window, unfettered by the glass, and lands on his knitted hat.

But he DOES hear the voice; soothing and gentle inside his head, emphasizing with his concern over the wanton destruction, sharing his desire to bring back the true meaning of Christmas. The Voice offers him a gift- one that will allow him to bring peace and joy back to those affected by the vandal, and prove that this night is still one of hope. The voice asks, very politely, if the man will accept this gift in the name of the greater good?

The man accepts, and the voice grants him a new name… “Father Christmas.”

Claw Noir is whistling a casual tune, twirling a candy cane he stole from a window display in his fingers in one hand, and flicking away the remains of shredded ribbon from his claws in the other, when he hears the sound of sobbing.

His route of mayhem has lead him to “Tom and Sabine’s Bakery/Boulangerie” the place where that pretty girl with the dark hair in pigtails works.

Said pretty girl is on the roof, completely unaware of his presence, too busy crying her eyes out.

Once more, he feels that this girl is probably the only one in all of Paris who he can relate to. Alone and miserable… he doesn’t know what pain she’s going through to leave her out on a snow-covered rooftop where no one (but him) can witness her tears, but somehow it is oddly comforting to know that he isn’t the only one… that they are kindred spirits in a way. Having someone else hate Christmas as much as him makes the pain somehow more bearable…

Are those sleigh-bells?? Where the heck is the sound of sleigh-bells coming from?!

Something catches his eye, and Claw Noir can’t believe what he sees… He can’t even figure out WHAT he sees…

Some old fat guy in a tacky red suit is flying- ACTUALLY FLYING- in a sleigh being pulled by reindeer for some reason?! What is that even supposed to BE?? Just how much mulled wine has the butterfly man had???

Weirdness aside, that fat freak is ruining all of Claw Noir’s work! As the sleigh flies over houses, broken windows vanish and are replaced with shiny new glass adorned with bright red bows. New Wreaths with sparkling gold and silver berries seem to actually sprout on doors, and tiny, wrapped gift boxes seem to rain down to rest at each door mat.

And the geezer is headed straight towards the Place de la Concorde!

Oh NO he doesn’t! Claw Noir has a good pile of stolen kindling going around that tree and NOTHING is going to stop him from torching that sucker! He gives chase.

The sound of bells and old man laughter makes Marinette wipe away her tears and look up just in time to catch a tiny wrapped box. Opening it, she finds a smiling gingerbread cookie holding a peppermint stick. She scowls before snapping off the cookie’s head.

Betterfly… that tears it!

Marinette transforms into Shadybug, crunches the peppermint stick HARD between her teeth before summoning her Lucky Charm- a shoulder mounter missile launcher, just right for blowing magic sleighs out of the sky!

The butterfly miraculous will make the perfect christmas gift for The Supreme.

But first, she’s gonna annihilate that bearded tub of lard who mocked her with friggin’ cookies!!!

Obviously Betterfly can’t let his new ally who laughs like a bowl full of jelly be blown to smithereens or be torn to shreds. He must help fend off Shadybug and Claw Noir to save Christmas and return home before Adrien comes down from his room (or that suspicious bodyguard notices something is up)

Meanwhile, Chloe is miserable! She has a brand new golden ballgown, diamond covered shoes, her hair is even MORE amazing than usual, and Adrikins isn’t here to tell her how gorgeous she is! CHRISTMAS IS RUINED! This is all her Daddy’s fault! Audrey agrees; the invitations SHOULD have been engraved, not embossed, and gold foil borders on linen paper? What is this, the 90’s?? Anything but glitter infused envelopes is just tacky! And WHERE are the solid crystal champagne flutes she requested?! No wonder Gabriel and Agreste Junior didn’t show- this whole Gala is turning out to be ridiculous, utterly ridiculous! Andre has no wish list, but as for New Year’s resolutions, he plans to take up drinking.

PART 2

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toxinellebug · 9 months

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Shadybug/ClawNoir Christmas PART 4

Claw Noir returns home and de-transforms just in time to hear a knock on his bedroom door.

It’s his father, calling him down to dinner.

Adrien is hardly in the mood, but he IS hungry… He figures he can just eat quickly then rush back up to his room. He rudely grabs Plagg and stuffs the glaring kwami into a sock drawer and ordering him not to leave from that spot before he makes his way downstairs.

But what is waiting in the dining room is hardly a spread worthy of the name Le Réveillon.

Not that they usually had much of a feast (Gabriel always insisted on giving the chef Christmas off.) but microwaveable dinners from Picard? Weren’t those reserved for when Father locked himself in his office and immersed himself in finishing up projects for Fashion Week and couldn’t be bothered to waste time on a proper meal?

Embarrassed, Gabriel admits that he somehow managed to burn both the turkey AND the Haricots Verts Amandine this year… And he had a feeling that Adrien wouldn’t be in the mood for Bûche de Noël.

He’s not wrong, not that Adrien will admit as such out loud.

Taking a seat at the table, the two of them pick at their frozen dinners, the only sounds the scraping of silver on plastic trays and “Greensleeves” over the radio.

Gabriel is the first to break the silence.

He apologizes to Adrien for not being more considerate of his feelings; so much has changed in their lives, and he just thought… Well, Adrien’s mother always loved Christmas, he’d hoped that, perhaps, by trying to do things the way they had always done around this time of year, maybe it would bring them both some comfort.

He didn’t stop to consider just how painful it would be trying to re-create those moments without…

-Without mom.

…Yes.

More silence. Adrien refuses to look up. He’s angry, but he doesn’t want his father’s apology. Truthfully, he doesn’t know WHAT he wants anymore, but he does know that he DOESN’T want to cry, and if he makes eye contact with father right now he’s afraid that’s exactly what will happen.

Gabriel clears his throat awkwardly, and has a suggestion; what if they were to start a new tradition?

Decorating trees, holly wreaths, yule logs… These are all Pagan traditions that have nothing to do with Christmas anyway. They don’t need those things.

What if, next year, they took a Holiday vacation? Somewhere tropical, no snow or carols or decorations. Adrien’s Aunt Amelie owns a Beach House- surely she would lend it to them. It would be just the two of them, they’d make a week of it and eat nothing but fruit!

Adrien almost smiles at that but stops himself. It’s hard to imagine father taking a week off work to visit some Island. What about his winter formal collection? What about Adrien’s photoshoots?

But… it might be nice to visit someplace with cleaner air.

He’ll think about it.

That answer is enough to satisfy Gabriel, who places a simply wrapped gift on the table next to Adrien.

He knows Adrien really isn’t in the mood but… He REALLY wants his son to have this.

Sighing heavily, Adrien puts down his fork and tears away at the paper. It’s a book? No wait-

A photo album.

Long blonde hair, green eyes, a melancholy smile.

It’s full of pictures, some from before Adrien was even born, several he’s never even seen before! Mother looks so young, wait-

Is that his father? With a Mohawk????

This had to be photoshopped, right?

Finally daring to look up at his father, Adrien finds Gabriel loosening his bowtie, an embarrassed smile on his face as he admits he had been going through a faze at the time. Actually, it was Emelie who convinced him his hair looked atrocious.

Adrien had never heard that story before.

He wants to hear more… He’s also feeling more hungry than he thought.

Gabriel says that he can go get the cake from the fridge. Mr. Placid picked it up from that Bakery Adrien likes, “Tom and Sabine’s”, right?

The mention of the Boulangerie makes Adrien’s stomach twist in worry as he thought about that pretty dark-haired girl crying on the rooftop.

She wasn’t STILL up there, was she??? It’s freezing outside, what if she gets sick?

Marinette was definitely sick.

Her throat was scratchy, her nose was runny, her eyes were puffy and her head STILL hurt from all that crying.

But she was far from being miserable.

She had spent the last hour browsing the news online. Even if Enforcers prevented Parisians from going out at night, it would be foolish to believe all their antics had gone completely unnoticed.

Noisy fleabag’s mayhem aside, surely SOMEBODY noticed a seasonally unusual appearance of red and black beetles crawling on their doors.

There was no way The Supreme could just sweep this thing under the rug, right?

Wrong.

Turns out all they needed was something even more interesting to distract the public eye, and Marinette was staring right at it:

“Bourgeois Gala is a Hair-Raising Event”.

Someone was bound to get fired over that cheesy headline, but the photographer deserved a raise!

In the photo, a butler was trying his hardest to restrain a furious and screaming Chloe Bourgeois from strangling music icon XY.

The front of her lovely holiday gown was stained. Her eyeliner was running down her cheeks, no doubt from hysterical tears. And her head looked like someone had tried to give a Barbie Doll a buzz cut!

Apparently, during the festivities, Miss Bourgeois (daughter of Movie Director and hotel owner Andre Bourgeois and Queen of Fashion Audrey Bourgeois) had been in a rush to leave the grand ballroom and in her haste, bumped into the young musician, causing him to spill his drink and slip.

Trying to catch himself as he fell, the Pop sensation grabbed the only thing within reach; long, blonde, expertly coiffed curls.

Rather than pulling Miss Bourgeois down with him, it was abruptly revealed that those fabulous golden locks were, in fact, a wig.

It is unknown whether the girl’s lack of natural hair is the result of a medical condition or an incompetent hair stylist as the Bourgeois’ have refused to comment…

Marinette smirked.

Nearly 2 months ago, Shadybug had broke into the Le Grande Hotel in the dead of night and snuck her way into Chloe’s private bath to replace the contents of her shampoo and conditioner bottles.

That Lucky Charm Hair removal lotion was super effective.

Word was that Chloe had called in sick from school that week. When she returned there had been no commotion, no whispers or gossip. Apparently she had been able to cover up before the public discovered the truth.

At least until NOW.

First chance she got, Marinette was going to print out this photo and frame it. For now, it was going to be the new lockscreen of her phone.

The Supreme had a tight hold over the news media, and negative stories involving the rich were rare.

Chloe was probably so humiliated right now, she’ll probably call out of school “sick” for at least a month!

It was the best Christmas present Marinette could’ve asked for.

Well worth the cold she was dealing with.

Though that was still annoying.

She cursed herself- she had to be the only one dumb enough to spend Christmas eve on a snow covered rooftop.

Alya sneezed into her asosi tea.

That’s what she gets for spending Christmas eve on a snow covered rooftop.

Her mother, after spending all of Christmas morning preparing breakfast for the guests of the Le Grande Paris Hotel, had finally come home and upon seeing Alya’s miserable state, prepared her some shrimp soup and herbal tea and was now in the process of preparing onion syrup.

It made Alya feel guilty- her mom had spent all of Christmas Eve cooking in the Hotel as well. She was finally allowed to come home and spend time with her family, and already she was cooking AGAIN instead of resting.

And what did Alya have to show for her troubles?

A few dark and blurry photos of wreaths that look different from one photo to the next after being covered with some red blur, taken with extreme zoom in and granulated.

SOMETHING went down that night, something magical. Even if she hadn’t been able to capture clear images on her phone, she had seen it with her own eyes.

Ladybugs transforming wreaths and disappearing gift boxes.

She didn’t know what it meant, but she KNOWS it’s being covered up!

(Still, that brat Chloe going bald? Hilarious.)

Alya may not have any proof, but that wouldn’t stop her from discovering the truth… Just as soon as she got over this cold.

Merry Xmas

(Or, if you’re like Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Happy Hanukkah, OR if you’re like Nino and Alex and your family originates from the United Arab Emirates… Happy Winter Solstice! Axial tilt is the reason for the season!)

PART 3

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