Chapter Text
“You are nothing,” spat Lila. “You will always be nothing . And I’m going to prove that to you.”
Marinette played her part well. A weak little girl, scared yet defiant. Tears shimmered in her bluebell eyes, and her hands were shaking.
“I told you that if you crossed me I would take away all your friends. Now you’re all alone, unloved and weak.”
Marinette forced her chin to wobble, pretending to withhold tears. She wasn’t crying, and the only thing she was trying to contain was her laughter. She began to sink down to the floor, keeping her back against the wall.
“Stand up, bi*ch!” When Marinette didn’t move, Lila struck her across the face. A red mark blossomed, and Marinette released a single tear.
Lila smirked, looking at the bluenette.
“Oh, is itsy bitsy snookums hurt?”
As if. Marinette had broken her nose for the first time at age three. Her cousin Jasper had broken it, and she had broken his right back.
Neither of them had cried. After all, it was just a broken bone. Crying was reserved for important things, like...well...nothing. Crying wasn’t allowed.
“Every single day, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. You will wait in this bathroom for me every single day. Tell anyone, and I will have you expelled.” Lila reached up and slapped her own face, smirking sadistically at Marinette.
“After all, you’re beating me up, and that’s grounds for expulsion,” she said, mock-sweetly.
“F*ck you, Rossi.”
Smack.
Marinette had matching handprints on both of her cheeks.
“Yes, that is what Adrien will do, when his father tells him to. But you? Nobody will ever touch you.”
Marinette growled as Lila left the bathroom. Tikki flew up, taking a photo before using her magic to heal both of Marinette’s cheeks.
“Marinette, this is going too far! Lila is physically harming you now! You need to tell someone!”
Marinette closed her eyes, releasing a cold laugh.
“You heard her. She’ll get me expelled.”
“Marinette, your well-being is more important than a silly school!”, Tikki protested.
“No, Tikki. Let me tell you a story.” Tikki finished healing Marinette’s cheeks, settling in the bluenette’s hands.
“Once upon a time, there was a group of kindergarteners. They were small, and easy targets for bullying. In the first month of school or so, there was an older boy. He was probably in grade 5 or 6, and it seemed like he was 15 feet tall,” Marinette paused, taking a breath.
“He had red hair, and big front teeth. He was throwing mud at the kindergarteners. As another clump of mud hit a blond girl—Rose, actually—, a growl emerged from the group of kindergarten students.”
Marinette had somehow decided that she was telling the story like an outsider, not the main character. But it worked, so she continued.
“A small girl—the smallest in the class—marched forward, her pigtails swinging. Her large blue eyes had a fire in them, and she squatted. It has always been said that kindergarteners were never grossed out, and it was true in that moment. The girl pushed her sleeve back, grabbing a large handful of mud.” Marinette smiled at the memory, and she realized that she still remembered how the mud felt.
““You think it’s so funny, picking on kids younger than you?”, the girl said. The boy had laughed, his mouth wide open. The little girl smirked widely, and her fellow kindergarteners shuddered. Leaning back, the girl channeled all her strength into her arm. There was a distinct squelch, and the red haired boy sputtered, spitting the wet mud out of his mouth. The girl’s eyes danced, and she shook her hand off.”
Tikki laughed through her cringe, having been on the receiving end of Plagg’s mud pie tosses many times.
“The little girl spoke, and her voice was hard. “My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and I don’t like bullies. You weren’t picking on someone your own size, so neither did I,” she said.”
“Marinette, the little girl was you?”
“Yes, Tikki. I threw mud at a bully. I kinda wish I could throw mud at Lila, actually. Anyway. Baby-Marinette leaned in, her five-year-old face as patronizing as it could get. “Isn’t it fun?” , she had said. Glaring, the boy pushed me into the mud. The mud splashed around me as I fell, getting all over my clothes. I began to pick herself up, but the older boy did something he would regret forever. He held me down in the mud with his foot, laughing. Until something happened. A lanky blond girl came forward, her hands on her hips. Tossing her long blond ponytail, she pulled out a phone.”
Tikki gasped, and Marinette smiled. She continued, a fond smile on her face.
““You have five seconds to remove yourself from Marinette before I call my daddy,” the blond girl said. The boy scoffed, presumably hiding his jealousy. A kindergartener had a phone? No fair, right? “And who is your widdle father, then?” The blond girl touched an icon, showing it to the boy. “Andre Bourgeois, of course. And then I’ll call my mother, Audrey Bourgeois. And then, you’ll be expelled. Does that sound like fun?” Chloé Bourgeois giggled, and she told me later that at the time, she had assumed that having one of Paris’ biggest power couples as parents wasn’t a big deal.”
“Chloe saved you?”
“She did, Tikki. That’s when we became friends?”
“But she bullies you!”
“It was an act. She cried in my room about it later. The first time, she felt so bad that she threw up.”
“Poor Chloé! But why did she bully you, if it hurt her—and you—so much?”
“It was part of an act. You’ll find out what it was for soon enough. “ You-you-you can’t do that,” the boy stuttered. Chloé smirked, pretending that she was talking to a penguin. Not that being a penguin was bad, it was just the first animal she had thought of. “Just watch me, peasant,” she replied. It was the first time Chloé had ever used the word peasant. She cried after that, too. She began to walk around the boy, clucking her tongue. “Ripped jeans, ragged sneakers, a t-shirt for a band nobody has ever heard of, and a backwards baseball cap. Who’re you trying to impress, hmm? By the looks of it, I’d say one of the Sancouer-Kurtzberg sisters. Tell me, is it Nathaly, or Nathania?” She said that she had been completely bluffing, but it worked. The boy stared at her in shock, completely freaked out. “What in all of the world are you talking about?” To anyone else, it was confusion. To Chloé, a politician's daughter, it was a deflection, apparently. “I’m talking about your crush on Nathaly Sancouer-Kurtzberg.” Her voice was loud, and her grin as wide as the sun. The boy shook his head, confused. “I like Nathania, not Nathaly.” ”
Tikki laughed, facepalming.
“He really fell for it? Just like that?”
“I know, right? I’m still, to this day, amazed. Chloé smirked, and the boy visibly ran over what he had said in his head. Then he ran. Nino chased after him, before smiling at his classmates. “He’s gone,” were Nino’s only words, but it was enough. A month into grade 5, Nicholas Robertson switched schools, and only a handful of people knew what happened. Chloé and Marinette had stood up for themselves, and their class. They soon became best friends, alongside Nino, and roamed the playground. They never played games, though. No, they were the Destroyers. And they destroyed bullies.”
“So you, Chloé, and Nino were in charge of the playground?”
“That’s right, Tikki. We were best friends, platonic soulmates, a third of a whole, whatever. But then, in grade 3, when the Destroyers were 7, we broke.
It wasn’t that we had moved on, it was rather that we couldn’t. Chloé’s parents were splitting up, and she used it as a refuge. Nino kept staying because he had nothing better to do, even though defeating bullies had become boring years ago. He had treated it like a phase; like something to grow out of. And I held on because my friends were still holding on, and I wasn’t ready to lose them. There was a big fight one day, which caused many things.”
Marinette sighed, eyes downcast.
“Nino gave up, focusing fully on his music. That was one Destroyer gone. Chloé left school for a while, dealing with the aftermath of her parent’s famous divorce. That was another Destroyer gone. And I was left, picking up the torn pieces of paper my friends left behind. The Destroyers had vanished. When the news spread throughout the school, bullies came out from hiding. We thought that they had disappeared, but no. Wherever there were differences, whether it was our appearance or something else, there were bullies. The bullies picked on everyone, but there was one that was as formidable as the Destroyers themselves. McKaylia Johnson. She was so pale she could blend in with the clouds, and people swore up and down that, when she was mad, they could see her veins.”
Marinette rolled her eyes at the memory of the girl, scoffing.
“She had been waiting for this day for years; the downfall of the Destroyers. Soon enough, the whole school quaked in her path. Even students older than her didn’t dare cross her, for fear of what would happen. Her favourite targets were the class below her. The class of the Destroyers. When the Destroyers disbanded, everyone assumed it was a mutual decision, made out of the fact that they were older now. Nobody knew the truth. I clung to the wisps of the Destroyers. Of course, I was still friends with Nino, nothing could ever change that, and I was still BFFs with Chloé.
But there was something that was no longer there, something that I craved. It wasn’t being correct, or being feared, or even having power. I wasn’t sure what it was. But the second I confronted McKaylia, the answer snapped into place. It was justice. “The Destroyers may have disbanded, but our beliefs are still the same. My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and I don’t like bullies.” As I spoke the same words I had so long ago, (it was actually only like, 3 years) the class knew what they had to do.”
Marinette paused, and Tikki squirmed.
“What happens next, Marinette?”
The bluenette smirked, returning to the story.
“The one question was, though, who would do it? Who would step forward? 5 minutes later, the answer was clear. Alix Kubdel. And Nathaniel Kurtzberg.”
“Alix...and Nathaniel? The painfully shy, introverted Nathaniel?”
“Yeah. That’s another role, by the way. Nath was always naturally introverted, but never shy. The two redheads—Alix was a natural redhead before she started dying her hair—stood beside me, one on either side. I automatically grabbed their hands, interlacing my fingers with theirs. Leaning in close to McKaylia, I smiled, and everyone afterwards said it was rather sardonic. “And that’s what you are, McKaylia Johnson. No matter what form the Destroyers are in, we will always stand by that, and for that. I’m giving you a warning. Stop what you’re doing now, and switch schools. Or, you could continue, and face our wrath. Face the wrath of the Aces.” I had chosen the name randomly, remembering what my grandfather had said long ago. ‘The Ace of Spades is the most powerful card in the deck. Remember that, my Ace of Spades.’ Then he tucked the card into my pocket, packing up the rest of the cards. I still remember my words back to him, Tikki. ‘What about all the other Aces? Are they as powerful as the Ace of Spades, grandpa?’ He chuckled, nodding.
“Only if you want them to be, Marinette.” And I did. McKaylia Johnson ran that day. A week later, Chloé came back, and the Aces were formed. There was Chloé, or The Ace of Hearts. Alix was known as The Ace of Clubs, and Nath was The Ace of Diamonds.”
Marinette pulled a worn playing card out of a hidden pocket, flashing it at Tikki..
“And I, Marinette, The Ace of Spades. The most powerful card in the deck. The Destroyers had fallen, and from their ashes, a new group arrived. They were more famous, more powerful, and much more deadly. The Aces were in charge.”
“Wow! But that was in grade 3, right, Marinette? What happened to the Aces?”
Marinette laughed, hooping Tikki gently on the nose.
“Well, Tikki, it’s a long story. Are you sure you want to hear it now?”
“I do, but the bell just rang, and you’re going to be late for class. Maybe tell me after school?”
Marinette gently placed Tikki back in her purse, standing up.
“Thank you, Tikki.”
“For what, Marinette?”
Marinette smoothed out her blazer, and adjusted her pigtails.
“Distracting me, and helping me remember. It’s nice to remember times where everything was normal.”
“Will you tell me the rest of the stories?”
“Of course, Tikki.”