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True love shouldn’t exist. It shouldn’t exist because fate was cruel. Fate called for Death and once Death took your love away from you, that grief and despair eats away at you until you’ve lost more than the love of your life. You lose your mind, you lose all sense of reality, you lose yourself. That’s how Marinette felt.
He should have told her. Adrien should have told her he was ill. Adrien should have told her he had a birth defect in his heart that would kill him later in life. And yet he didn’t. He kept it from the young witch for years until he suddenly died before their second wedding anniversary. Adrien Agreste, international super model and mortal husband of the witch Marinette, dead at the age of twenty-six.
At first, Marinette couldn’t process it. There was no way Adrien could be dead. She refused to accept it even when Adrien was laid to rest in the local cemetery. Only when she arrived home after the funeral did she wail in such despair that it put a Banshee’s cry to shame. No matter what anyone tried to do, no one could console her. She refused to sleep, eat, or speak to anyone. A single mention of her late husband threw her into a fit of anguished and hysterical sorrow. Alya, Kagami, Chloe, Luka, none of them could console her. Not even her own parents. Her grief was so intense that she had accidentally lashed out her magic at Luka, the boy who supported her love for Adrien at the cost of his own love for her.
Why? Why didn’t Adrien tell her? She could have helped him. She had the magical knowledge at her fingertips to cure him or at the very least prolong his life.
Marinette’s mind was like a cracked mirror. Every thought, every mention of her beloved husband cracked the glass over and over and over again until it shattered into hundreds of little shards. Every waking day she was losing pieces of herself. Her resolve and dedication to magic became more and more unstable. At first she tried to quell her magic from consuming her and turning her into a Penthalgea, a monster transformed by unbearable grief who wonders the world and devours humans to ease its pain. Although rare, witches have turned into Penthalgeas after grief and sorrow consumed their very soul.
Marinette scoured through her numerous grimoires, tomes, scrolls, manuscripts, and codexes. Anything to help her ease her agonizing torment. Nothing. She found nothing. No spell, no potion, no charm, no incantation, it was as if she was cursed to suffer from her sorrowful misery until her dying day. Out of the hundreds of magical information articles she had in her library, nothing was going to help her. All that there was were a mess of scattered parchment and strewn ancient texts.
She had nearly lost all hope until she stumbled upon a leather bound grimoire. The texture of the leather felt strange, yet familiar. Marinette combed through the aged pages with re-ignited hope in her eyes. She quickly collected the necessary ingredients to create the potion she needed before draping her ruby red wool cloak and heading to the cemetery with lantern and shovel in hand.
It was the witching hour on a full moon light night when Marinette approached her beloved’s grave. Grief sank its sharpened claws into the young witch’s heart upon the sight of the polished gravestone. Soon. Soon he’ll come back to her. Quickly and carefully, her shovel sunk into the packed soil and plowed through the soil until she reached his coffin. Bending and breaking her nails to open the coffin, she sobbed in anguish seeing her perfectly preserved husband. It was as if he was simply sleeping. Soon, soon he’ll wake up and they will be together once again.
Time was of the essence and with renewed hope, Marinette quickly and cautiously dragged her dead husband back to their home. There Marinette laid him on her work table. Quickly, she followed the instructions the suspicious grimoire stored in its pages.
First, the body of the soon-to-be resurrected must lay on a white blanket made from the wool of a lamb. Then seven candles, all green in color, carved with images of ferns must surround the dead and lit counter clockwise with matches made from an oak branch. Crush pomegranates and mix with sand from a snow frost hourglass. Crush a rainbow mermaid’s seashell with a red camellia, red carnation, purple columbine, daisy, edelweiss, heliotrope, and a single red rose petal. Combine with crushed berries and sand, mix with the tears of the grieving. Soak a vine of ivy in the brew and with calla lilies, weave a wreath to sit upon your beloved’s head. A kiss to guide your loved one back to their body and bathe the body in full moon’s light to guide the soul back to life.
Marinette followed the instructions perfectly and watched with overwhelming joy as Adrien’s body began to softly glow. Now for the final step: A drop of true love’s blood drawn by a blackberry’s thorn as food for the dead. Marinette cut her finger with the bramble and squeezed a single drop of crimson blood was drop and dripped past Adrien’s still lips. Finally, her husband has returned to her.
Her manic hysterical smile quickly dropped when the growing glow began to dim until her husband glowed no more.
“No…NOOOOOOOO!!!” Marinette wailed with devastating despair.
“WHY!?” Marinette screamed at the moon who hid behind the stained glass window, “I DID EVERYTHING THE BOOK TOLD ME TO DO!! SO WHY ISN'T ADRIEN BACK!?”
The witch slumped over her husband’s still body and wept into his cold still chest. Over and over again for multiple nights did Marinette repeat the ritual. But she was running out of materials and human made embalming fluid could only preserve the body for so long. A part of her could only think of one other variable.
Scouring the cursed grimoire again, this time for a tracking spell. Not just any tracking spell, but one to track true love. With her cauldron lit, She threw in hellhound fur, rabbit’s blood, red roses, violets, yarrow, red tulips, red salvia, and honeysuckle. A bottle of Cupid’s blood and the eyes of a hawk along with a lock of Adrien’s hair tossed in and a spider silk thread dyed red with witch’s blood, Marinette demanded the cauldron to show her Adrien’s true love. The liquid swirled and bubbled until an image appeared.
Marinette’s lip curled in disgust and anger upon seeing chestnut brown hair and greedy green eyes. Marinette demanded the cauldron to show her the two’s interactions. Sure enough, the cauldron proved to the miserable witch that not only was Lila Adrien’s true love, but he was cheating on his own faithful wife. Anger and betrayal filled her heart as anguish and grief grew. She loved her husband more than anyone else in the world but he did not truly love her back. If she hadn’t used her magic to show her the truth and if her husband was still alive, Adrien would have continued seeing Lila behind her back.
And yet Marinette still had her doubts. There was only one way to confirm if what the cauldron said was true.
News quickly spread that someone had desecrated the grave of Adrien Agreste and stole his body. His father, Gabriel, and stepmother Nathalie demanded whoever stole their son return him immediately. They swore on their reputation and wealth that they would not stop until their son’s body was returned and the grave robber was punished. Not that Marinette cared for such news. She stayed home, all alone in her magic filled estate. Her friends, family, and in-laws, no one suspected her at all and deduced her absence as mourning.
And true, while she was mourning, but she was also scheming. For months, she used her cauldron and scrying glass to stalk and spy on Lila. The Italian hasn’t changed since middle school. Worse still, she was in bed with another man who was showering her with riches and jewels in exchange for pleasurable company. It angered Marinette beyond belief that Lila did not grieve for Adrien, instead she simply hopped to the next wealthy man who wanted a pretty woman by his side and in his bed. If Lila wanted riches so badly, she’ll have it.
Marinette forged Adrien’s last will and testament and sealed the envelope with a wax impression of the Agreste family crest before ordering the parchment to fly into Lila’s mailbox. With a gentle blow, Marinette watched bitterly as the envelope flew to it’s destination. In the mean time, Marinette leisurely flipped the pages of her new favorite grimoire to find a suitable curse for that homewrecker.
The following morning, Lila held her head high as she approached Adrien's manor. Correction, her manor. She had received a letter from the Agreste family that contained Adrien’s will and testament. Of course she would be in it seeing as she was Adrien’s lover. If it wasn’t for his death, she would be the real Madam Agreste and not that freak Marinette.
Lila opened the envelope again and grinned greedily as she read the contents of the will once again.
I, Adrien Raphael Agreste,
with a place of residence at Manoir Agreste, 75001 Paris, France,
being of sound mind and not acting under duress or undue influence while fully
understanding the nature and extent of all my properties and of this disposition thereof, do hereby make, publish, and declare this
document to be my Last Will and Testament, and hereby revoke any and all other wills
and codicils heretofore made by me.
“Blah, blah, blah.” Lila rolled her eyes at the formalities and skimmed through the will until she reached the part that solidified her future.
I have chosen not to devise my property but instead bequeath entire my properties, both real and personal and wherever situated
(including any life insurance policies I may have), to the following Beneficiary:
Lila Morgana Rossi, who is my one true love and most trusted confidante
and is entitled to 100% of my entire Estate.
Should my beloved Lila be unable to accept my properties for whatever reason,
my properties will be divided equally and be bequeathed to my father, Gabriel Angelo Agreste, my step-mother, Nathalie Agreste nee Sancour, my bodyguard, Simone Bernard,
and to my best friend, Nino Lahiffe and his family.
Should the other beneficiaries be unable to accept my properties for whatever reason, my properties will be bequeathed to the Emilie Agreste Foundation.
Lila grinned seeing that Marinette would get absolutely nothing from her dead husband, but instead she was an acting witness to Adrien’s decisions along with Chloe Bourgeois and Juliette Laurent, Adrien’s lawyer. It was too perfect. She would live using Adrien’s millions while Marinette would have to leave the estate and everything inside it.
Upon arriving at the sumptuous manor, Lila barged inside instead of knocking. “Why not?” she thought, “It’s my house after all.”
“Hello? Is anyone here?” Lila called out. She looked around the foyer and scoffed in disgust. She hated seeing Marinette’s magic knick knacks all over the place. Those would be the first to go. It wouldn’t be worth selling them so she might as well destroy them. They were special to Marinette likely so it would be all the more satisfying.
Before she called out again, Marinette descended the stairs still in her mourning gown and a pink leather suitcase in hand. Lila smirked at the prospect that Marinette could only carry her essentials and that’s all.
“Hello, Lila. I see you’ve received the will.” Marinette nodded in a muted greeting.
“Obviously. What a shame that you had to find out like this, Marinette. Not only did you lose your husband to me, but your house and everything in it as well.” Lila snickered triumphantly.
“Yes. However there are still documents I need you to sign before I leave. Please, let’s go to the parlour and get that squared away.” Marinette led Lila to the Art Deco style parlour and led her to the love seat before informing her that she will bring refreshments for the new owner. Lila mocked that Marinette would be better off as a scullery maid rather than a wife of a wealthy man. Still, Marinette ignored the jab and left for the kitchen.
Marinette returned a few minutes later with rose tea and biscuits fresh from the oven along with a manila envelope full of the necessary documents. Seduced by the scent of tea and sweets, Lila dug in while signing paperwork after paperwork Marinette had organized and explained.
After polishing the refreshments and going through the boring legal work, Lila suddenly became drowsy. Her vision blurred and her stomach and head ached. She tried to demand what Marinette did to her, but her mouth was dry and numb as if her tongue was too big for her mouth. Nauseated and delirious, Lila slumped face first into the coffee table, smashing the teacup and teapot as they clattered to the rug covered floor.
“What a shame. I really enjoyed that tea set.” Marinette stared at the unconscious gold digger before dragging her through a door behind her favorite bookshelf.
By the time Lila came to, the moon was full and shining its light through the stain glass window where Marinette was stirring her cauldron. Lila tried to move but she was shackled to the wall and her lips felt as they were sewn shut. Her muffled cries alerted Marinette who coldly glared at the thief.
“Good evening, Lila. Did you have a good nap? I know I would after a belly full of warm fragrant tea and fresh baked cookies. Though, I prefer my snacks without essence of Nightbloom.” Marinette snickered as she approached Lila with a thorned briar branch. Lila whimpered as she tried to press herself against the wall. Again she tried to scream but it was only a muffled whimper.
“Don’t bother. I’ve sewn your lips shut with some magic spider silk. Not even the sharpest scissors could cut them free.” Marinette chuckled as she whipped Lila’s face with the twig. Lila yelped in pain as Marinette retreated back to her cauldron and tossed in more ingredients.
“Lobelia for malevolence, orange lilies for my hatred. A black dahlia for betrayal, a buttercup for both your unfaithfulness. A petunia for resentment, a black rose for revenge. Nightshade and aconite for death, foxglove for your insincerity, and finally a narcissus and orchid for your greed and vanity. All dried and withered as you are unworthy of beautiful fresh flowers. Mix with the intended’s blood drawn by a blackberry thorn” Marinette smiled wickedly as she tossed in the ingredients. She had tripled the nightshade, aconite, and foxglove flowers as she knew they were the most poisonous.
“Last but not least,” Marinette raised a vial filled with a rich ruby liquid, “Bloodroot sap. To protect my marriage and to poison you.”
Marinette poured the viscous sap into the cauldron and watched it swirl into a thick bubbling red brew. Deeming the potion ready, Marinette filled a bucket of the toxic concoction and approached Lila who was squealing in fear and staring wide eyed at the now heartless witch. Without another moment’s hesitation or even a drop of remorse, Marinette drew Lila’s blood with a blackberry bramble once again before throwing the boiling hot tonic directly at Lila’s face. Marinette ignored Lila’s muffled hysteric screams of pain as she approached her husband’s corpse. She had only one last step before he would return to her.
From the bramble’s thorn, Lila’s blood dropped past his lips. Marinette took a step back and watched in heartache as the glow grew brighter and brighter. Betrayal brewed in her gut as Adrien’s eyes fluttered open and he took a breath of life once again. Adrien sat up and looked around to see her faithful wife who had become gaunt from sorrow.
“M-Marinette? Marinette…my love…Honey!” Adrien gasped in relief and joy to see his beautiful adorable wife once again. He hopped off the table and approached her, eager to embrace her. But instead he was met with an angry scowl and a good slap to the face. Still unsteady from his once- eternal sleep, the slap knocked him to the ground leaving the man stunned.
“You liar.” Marinette hissed through her teeth.
“Dear…” Adrien called out.
“You claimed I was your true love. And yet when I tried resurrecting you with my blood, it didn’t work. Time and time again, I tried! But you only came back after Lila’s blood was used. My scrying glass and thread potion showed me everything. You cheated on me for a woman who never once loved you.” Marinette spat venomously through the tears.
“What did you do to Lila!? W-Where is she?!” Adrien shouted, worried for his mistress.
“See for yourself.” Marinette stepped to the side and all words were trapped in Adrien’s throat. Lila was shackled to the wall, her flesh blistered from a boiling liquid thrown at her and her lips sewn shut. The potion Marinette made caused toxic flowers to grow excruciatingly painfully throughout Lila’s body. The thread sealing her lips shut were now red with blood from how hard she screamed, stretching and breaking the skin.
“Marinette, how could you!?” Adrien cried out and tried to run to his lover but was thrown to his knees and silenced with a snap of his wife’s fingers. With a blank yet cold expression, Marinette walked past her deceitful husband and stood in front of Lila with a pair of rusty dull shears raised above her head, glinting in the moon’s pale light. With every snip, Lila’s muffled screams on agony followed. A force unknown to Adrien forced him to watch as Marinette psychotically snipped and cut flower after flower off of Lila’s body only for more flowers to painfully and quickly grow back in place.
By the time Lila’s cries had ceased, Marinette had her arms full of bloodied flowers in a macabre bouquet. The witch approached her two-timing beloved. One by one, Marinette lovingly wove sanguine blooms into his hair.
“She never loved you. She loved your wealth. She always loved your wealth. Lila never showed up to your funeral because she was too busy being in the arms of another rich man. She only came to our home to claim her inheritance. Obviously it was fake. After all, how else was I going to lure that gold digging bitch here?” Marinette hummed as she decorated her husband’s head with a crown of bloodstained blossoms.
“N-no, it…it can’t be. Lila loves me…” Adrien hiccuped in disbelief.
“No, I love you. I have always loved you. So much that I brought you back to life, a taboo art. I love you so much that I made sure you will never stray from me ever again.” Marinette smiled tenderly. She quickly wrapped her husband’s neck with a rope soaked in a red potion that enslaved one’s target, forever robbing them of their free will. With a snap of her fingers, Marinette’s hold on Adrien was released before she grabbed both ends and pulled taut.
Adrien gasped and suffocated as he tried to claw the rope off of his neck. But Marinette’s hold was strong. Stronger due to Adrien’s weakened state. Stronger due to the corruption that grimoire poisoned her with. She pulled tighter and tighter as Adrien drooled and gasped for air, his eyes and face turning red from the halted circulation. Once his eyes rolled into the back of his head, Marinette gave her husband a kiss on the lips. With a jolt Adrien screamed in agony as Marinette’s lips were painted with a love potion. Well, more like an enslavement potion. She released the ropes and watched her husband thrash and choke on the floor before calming down. He lay there limp, paralyzed from the potion. Marinette cradled his head in her lap and smiled tenderly at her husband.
“You will never stray from me. You will fall in love with no one but me. You are mine and mine alone.” Marinette whispered.
“I…I will never stray from you. I will fall in love with no one but you. I am yours and yours alone.” Adrien obeyed with an empty droll.
“Good, now get some rest my love. We’ll be going home soon.” And with her command, Adrien drifted off into a dreamless sleep. After getting up from the dusty floor, Marinette approached Lila who was still in agonizing pain.
“Oh don’t worry, Lila. I won’t kill you.” Marinette smiled cheerfully, “You see…Adrien is only alive if he is continuously fed blood of his true love. Even though he’s hypnotized into thinking I am his true love, fate doesn’t see it that way. That’s why I still need you alive. And seeing as a paralyzing potion is quite expensive and time consuming to make, I figure we keep you with us another way.”
Marinette pulled the cleaver like knife from the table and raised it above her head, Lila’s horrified expression reflected on the metal’s polished surface. The cleaver was dropped on the tendons on her legs rendering her unable to walk or even crawl. The metal sliced through skin and muscle while shattering bone. Grabbing the branding iron from the fire under her cauldron, Marinette pressed the red hot metal to Lila’s wounds and cauterized them; the smell of burning flesh and Lila’s screams polluted the stagnant air of her workroom. With a wave of her hand, Marinette cleaned up Lila’s spilled blood and stored it in am ornate flask for later use. After all, Adrien would need a drop of blood once a day and Marinette couldn’t afford to waste a single drop. As long as Marinette had Lila’s blood, Adrien will now live as long as the witch would.
“Oh, and don’t even think of trying to kill yourself. This won’t let you.” Marinette smiled cheerfully. With a special pair of shears, Marinette clipped away the spider silk and forced a long necked bottle of some strange pearly black liquid down Lila’s throat. No matter how much the mortal girl tried sputtering and spit out, enough ran down her throat to make the potion effective.
Lila gagged when the glass was removed from her lips, gagging at the nauseating taste of the sour and bitter brew. Marinette grabbed Lila by the head and stitched Lila’s lips loosely before pulling the thread taut, shutting the lying gold digger up for good.
Marinette left the workshop momentarily to grab her suitcase from earlier and brought it in front of Lila. The witch opened the suitcase revealing nothing was inside it. She unlocked Lila from her shackles and dragged her to the trunk where Marinette shoved and stomped on Lila until she fit inside. She didn’t care if Lila was a mangled mess of blood, flesh, and flowers. It didn’t matter as long as she was alive. And Marinette wasn’t going to let Lila die any time soon. Marinette closed the trunk and awoke her once-again loving and faithful husband. With a quick spell, she changed their appearances and Adrien dreamily carried his wife back up to their home where they would pack their belongings to start a new life.
Almost two years and Adrien’s body was not found. Gabrielle and Nathalie were devastated when the police informed them that this case went cold. Adrien’s grave site had to be filled back in without a body. Gabrielle lost his will to live and had no choice but to accept the cruel reality.
Worse was his daughter-in-law. All of her closest friends and family were sent a suicide note in the early hours in the morning. By the time they reached the younger Agreste’s manor, it was completely engulfed in flames. Magic flames. By the time the fire was put out, it was too late. The only occupant of the house was nothing but ashes and bones, still lying where her bed would have been.
Unknown to them all, Marinette had created the perfect copy of herself thanks to her grimoire. She had set the soulless body on her bed and burned her home to the ground. She had to erase every trace of Marinette Agreste in order to create a new life for herself and her husband. What better way than to fake her own death through magical means? It was hard leaving her beloved friends and family behind, but it was for the better. The world mourned the loss of the Fashion Witch unaware of the truth.
A week later and a dark blue hair woman with bright hazel eyes and golden haired man with steely silver eyes were unloading their belongings from the car when they were approached by a portly middle aged woman carrying a paper bag that carried the comforting aroma of freshly baked bread.
“Bonjour! You must be the new neighbors! Here, I brought you some röggelchen, fresh from the oven not even ten minutes ago!” The woman boisterously laughed. “I’m Renee, I own the bakery just across the street!"
“Hello, Renee. I’m Bridgette Graham de Vanilly. This is my husband Felix Graham de Vanilly. We just move here from England.” ‘Bridgette’ introduced herself.
“Goodness! Now why would you two move into a country side town like Cassel?” Renee asked curiously.
“We got tired of the chaotic hustle and bustle of the city and agreed a quiet country side is the best place to raise our future children.” ‘Felix’ responded and pressed a loving kiss on his wife’s forehead. The baker didn’t notice the blank glassy look in the handsome man’s eyes.
“You two are such a lovely couple. Well, if you ever need anything baked and delicious, you just let old Renee know and I’ll whip up something special for you. Would you like a hand with that trunk? It looks awfully heavy.” Renee offered.
“Oh, that’s very kind of you, but my husband and I are stronger than we look. We can manage.” Marinette politely declined.
“Alright! Well have a lovely day, you two. And welcome to Cassel!” Renee cheerfully laughed before retreating to her shop, completely unaware of the blood dripping from the trunk and the muffled pained groans coming from inside it.
Their luggage was moved into their new home, a quaint little cottage with lots of sunlight and fresh air. 'Bridgette' unlocked her bloodied suitcase and smiled sickeningly at the sight of Lila delirious from pain with crushed flowers laid over her. ‘Bridgette’ smiled knowing very well that her life has started anew and no one would steal her happiness from her again. Especially by a gold digging homewrecker who no one noticed was gone. 'Bridgette' plucked flowers from Lila's agonized body until she had enough to fill her favorite crystal vase.
The witch smiled at the deep crimson red color of the flowers. Red as passionate love. Red as the blood that dripped down the vase. 'Bridgette' wiped the blood off the vase and brought it to her husband's lips. No one was going to take her love away from her. Not even her love himself.