As an avid Miraculous Ladybug fan, I believe that ZagToons is 1) wasting their talent by making Alya the Fox Miraculous holder, 2) the second season is (excuse my French) going to be shit. I am very disappointed in the results. Honestly, if it were up to me, I'd rather wait a year longer if it meant a better second season.

I personally Nathanael would be a far better choice and I believe that he's a largely underrated character by the hands of the fans and Zag itself. He has a brilliant talent for art, he has the skills to manipulate his emotions – honestly he's been through hell, but he never cried – and he is just generally kind. He is defiant and a powerful character. Honestly, I was livid when I realised Marinette skipped over him in the Webisode (The one titled "Marinette's Birthday" if you want to go check it out.)

Now, this chapter is inspired by a statement I read while doing research for a project on Van Gogh – something along the lines of "the romanticized ideals of the tortured artist" and it immediately reminded me of Nath.

Warning: mentions of / attempted suicide, extreme angst, loneliness, terrible language and excessive use of the f-bomb

He was so beaten, broken and tired…

So very tired.

Nathanael slugged his feet up the stairs of his room, fatigue rushing over him and weighing him down. Tears were rolling down his face in torrents, but he barely thought anything of it.

It had been his birthday that day and he got akumatized. His long-time crush had rejected him and worked against him. Nathanael did not understand why he remembered his akumatization, but he was too tired and too hurt to think about it any longer.

The kwami in his blazer pocket flew out, gave a meaningful look to Nathanael and snuggled closely against the redhead's cheek.

Nathanael's body shook at the comfort and he held Fayy gently to his face.

Fayy had seen her user like this a thousand times before and it hurt her each time he cried like this, but she learned quickly that he did not want to speak about it. He would go to bed, cry himself to sleep and wake up the following morning completely back to normal.

That evening he smiled at the kwami in his hand gently and rested Fayy on his pillow. Fayy could only stare sadly back at her user as he retreated to his bathroom. She sighed, but nevertheless sunk into the pillow and listened to the bathroom door lock shut.

For the first time in ages, she did not hear screams emanate from the bathroom and Fayy could only pray to the greater forces that he would be okay. She just hoped he would be okay.

Meanwhile, Nathanael collapsed to the bathroom floor and the tears and sobs just wracked his entire body.

Chills crawled over his skin and every bit of his being was crumbling again.

All that joy he woke up with that morning was crumbling down again and breathing became hard. He choked and gasped for air.

And it hurt!

It hurt so damn much.

Futilely he clawed at the floor as if it would ground him and stop the pain and the tears, but it did not. It only chipped his nails and tore the skin.

He couldn't breathe now.

With shaking fingers, he managed to open the bathroom cupboard and grab one of the rejected art blades he kept there. He held it in his fist and brought it shakily to his wrist. There, among all the other fleshy scars and failed attempts, he pressed down with the blade.

He bit so hard onto his tongue, blood dripped from his mouth.

He was so tired.

So tired of dragging himself out of bed, suffering endless torture from bullies at school and just… finally giving up on his long-term crush. So tired of the neglect, the insecurities and the work. So tired from all the lack of sleep, so tired of never eating and so lost between all the lines on the canvas of his skin.

The most obvious scar was the one on his stomach.

There, in a manner of mocking himself, he carved in cursive the words "Curse of God". He knew his own name meant to be "Gift from God", but where was the truth?

Where was the truth in that when he had so little?

His parents were never around and his friends had long since abandoned him.

It was getting colder. The tiles…

His tears battered against the floor. Breathing became harder again.

He pushed down.

Blood immediately came gushing out of the vein. The bathroom carpet got stained with tears and blood.

He choked on his tongue and pressed down again.

More blood this time.

He just wanted it to end. He wanted to end his life so badly. What was living if living was just pain?

He could see everyone he knew.

They were smiling. Everyone was smi…

4 years later…

The redhead glanced down at the city beneath his feet.

After defeating another Akuma, he found himself on the Eiffel Tower, seated next to Ladybug. She herself was battered and tired, but managed to smile.

Chat Noir was resting against one of the tower's pillars.

He was grateful for his newfound friends – to an extent of course.

Trusting them was a whole different story.

He stood up, his body moving against his momentary will.

For a moment, his teammates did not notice him stand, it was only when he chucked his Miraculous down to Ladybug's lap, and did they look up.

There was a moment of surprise and recognition as Nathanael stared at Paris' duo. Chat gasped out his civilian name and Ladybug started yelling profanities – all of them useless in the long run.

He was so close.

Nathanael took a step back.

He slipped.

Ladybug screamed.

He died on impact.