Miraculous Ladybug: The Only Competent Villain

Max's hovering robot filled the small workshop, a cozy corner of the Kante household. Walls lined with shelves bursting with circuit boards, half-assembled gadgets, and stacks of notebooks screamed innovation and ambition. Max sat cross-legged on the floor, intently focused on tweaking the alignment of his robot's gyroscope. His nimble fingers worked with the precision of someone who'd spent years mastering his craft.

I knocked lightly on the doorframe before stepping inside, though Max barely glanced up. "Hey, Max," I greeted, keeping my tone casual. "Busy as always, I see."

"Luka," Max replied without missing a beat, his voice calm and measured. "What brings you here? I thought you'd be composing another ballad or something."

I chuckled, easing myself into a chair opposite him. "I could say the same for you—shouldn't you be breaking another speedrun record?"

That earned a small grin, but Max's focus remained on his project. "What do you need?" he asked, finally looking up.

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "I wanted to check in on the flute rotator project. How's it coming along?"

Max paused, tilting his head as he considered. "It's progressing. The voice-command integration is proving trickier than expected, but I've already developed a prototype. The device's responsiveness might need refinement, though."

"That's why you're the best," I said with a smile. "Honestly, I'm impressed by how much you've done already. You've got a gift, Max."

He blinked, slightly taken aback by the compliment. "Thanks," he muttered, adjusting his glasses. "But there's still a lot of work to do. This is just a small project compared to what I want to achieve."

I nodded, keeping my tone encouraging. "I know. And that's why I'm here today." I paused letting my words sink in. "I see potential in you, Max. You're not just a tech genius—you're someone who could change the world. But to do that, you're going to need support. Resources. Someone who believes in you."

Max looked up, his expression cautious but intrigued. "What are you saying?"

I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. "I'm saying I want to sponsor you. Not just for this project, but for everything. I want to invest in your ideas, help you take them to the next level. You've got the brains, Max, and I've got… let's just say I've got connections."

He frowned, clearly skeptical. "Why would you do that? What's in it for you?"

"Because I believe in potential," I said simply. "And because I know what it's like to be overlooked. People don't always see what we're capable of until we prove them wrong. I've been where you are, Max. And I've had people who believed in me. Now it's my turn to pay it forward."

Max studied me for a long moment, his analytical mind likely dissecting my every word. Finally, he asked, "What kind of connections are we talking about?"

I hesitated, knowing this was the moment to reveal a part of myself I'd kept hidden. "Max, there's something you should know about me," I began, my voice steady but low. "I'm not just some random musician. My father is Jagged Stone."

Max's eyes widened, his usual composure slipping for a fraction of a second. "Jagged Stone? The rock legend?"

I nodded. "Yeah. He's my dad. And while we don't exactly have a typical father-son relationship, his name carries weight. Doors open when you mention Jagged Stone. And I'm willing to use that to help you."

Max leaned back, processing the information. "You're serious?"

"Dead serious," I replied. "I want to see you succeed, Max. I want to see you build the things that only you can dream up. And if my connections can help make that happen, then I'm all in."

He was quiet for a moment, his gaze shifting between me and the robot hovering at his side. Finally, he spoke, his voice tinged with determination. "Alright. I'll accept your sponsorship. But only if you're serious about this. I don't want handouts, Luka. I want to earn it."

I grinned, standing and extending a hand. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear. Welcome to the team, Max."

He shook my hand, a small but confident smile breaking through his usually stoic demeanor. As I left his workshop that day, I felt a surge of satisfaction. Max was on board with my idea. He was an ally—one with the potential to reshape the game entirely.

And with me guiding him, there was no telling how far we could go.

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Quiet Moment: Luka and Juleka

The door of the Couffaine house creaked softly as Luka stepped inside, his footsteps light on the worn wooden floor. the familiar scent of incense and books welcoming me home. The faint strains of an acoustic guitar played from a distant radio, blending with the warm hum of our houseboat's unique silence. I hung my jacket by the door, my movements quiet, almost reverent, as if not to disturb the peace within these walls.

The hallway stretched ahead, and I made my way down, my steps instinctively light. My room was at the far end, but as I passed Juleka's door, I noticed it was slightly ajar. The soft light of her bedside lamp spilled into the hallway, and I couldn't resist peeking inside.

She was asleep, curled up on her bed with a notebook resting open on her lap. Her hair fell in dark waves over the pillow, and a faint smile touched her lips as if her dreams were kinder than the waking world. My heart swelled at the sight. Juleka always had this way of grounding me without even trying—just her presence reminded me of what mattered most.

I stepped inside, careful not to make a sound, and gently took the notebook from her grasp. The pages were filled with her careful handwriting, little scribbles in the margins betraying her creative energy. I placed it on her nightstand, the action drawing a soft murmur from her as her eyes fluttered open.

"Luka?" she whispered, her voice soft and drowsy.

"Yeah, it's me," I said, keeping my voice low. "Didn't mean to wake you."

She stretched slightly, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "What time is it?"

"Late," I admitted with a small smile. "Just got back. Wanted to check on you."

"You're always checking on me," she said, a teasing lilt in her tone, though her expression was soft.

"Someone has to," I teased back, sitting on the edge of her bed. "How was your day?"

"Quiet," she said with a small shrug. "Mylene and Rose came over. We worked on some lyrics."

I tilted my head, curious. "Anything I should hear?"

"Not yet," she said quickly, a faint blush creeping into her cheeks. "Still working on it."

I nodded, knowing better than to push. Music was our shared language, but Juleka liked to perfect her voice before sharing it. I reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You look exhausted. You should get some sleep."

She leaned into my hand for the briefest moment, and I felt the weight of her trust in that simple gesture. Then she smiled, pulling back. "You too. Don't stay up all night playing again."

I chuckled, standing and ruffling her hair. "No promises."

As I turned to leave, her voice stopped me. "Luka?"

I glanced back, meeting her gaze. "Yeah?"

"Thanks," she said, her voice quiet but steady. "For always being here."

Her words hung in the air, filling the space between us with a warmth I couldn't quite describe. "Always, Jules," I replied softly. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she murmured, sinking back into her bed as I pulled the door closed behind me.

Walking to my room and falling into my seat, I felt a deep sense of peace settle over me. The world outside could be chaotic, unpredictable, even harsh. But moments like this—simple, genuine, and full of quiet love—reminded me of the steady rhythm that guided my life. 

But I also had to focus on my goals. reaching under my desk I ripped the notebook from under the table. Now was a time to harness this tranquility and put it into writing the lyrics of my plans, it was time to fully integrate myself into the lives of the main characters.