A/N: I would like to point out before we begin that yes, this story does assume that Mr. Agreste is not Hawkmoth, so if comments could kindly refrain from commenting about that it would be much appreciated. Also, like the majority of the things I write, this is a one-shot and is complete (unless I get super-inspired by something in seasons 2 or 3).

There were times when Hawkmoth wished that he could take the time to plan out his supervillains a bit better. The window of time when emotions were high enough to take advantage of sometimes was short, so his planning time was as well. More than once he had only managed to possess a person a fraction of a second before they would have controlled their emotions enough to drive his akuma away. Those supervillains were always the weakest. Too much of their civilian personality showed through and they got distracted.

Horrorificator was the perfect example, of course. He still couldn't believe that she had been taken down by as lame of a song as Smelly Wolf and that she had gone and hopped up in her boyfriend's arms like some sort of terrified kitten once she shrunk.

There were his little regrets, of course. The supervillain outfit designs gaudy enough to make even a color-blind kindergartener flinch. The villain weaknesses that slowed them down and left them vulnerable. The ones whose fighting skills didn't match up at all with the powers he gave them, leaving them wide open to defeat.

Worst were the ones that got so distracted by their powers or so focused on getting their revenge that they totally forgot about what they were supposed to be doing for him. Thankfully, as of late, Hawkmoth had discovered that he could prod people in the right direction. The embarrassing akumas fell under this as well, like the time Hawkmoth had created an akuma while more than a little tipsy, resulting in an artist-based akuma who ended up with tools she wasn't used to (a brush instead of digital art) and with the un-detachable tablet on her dominant arm.

(Thoughts of that fight still made him cringe.)

Nooroo hadn't told him he could cause people pain by partially revoking their powers or remotely constricting their suit. Ever since he announced his less-than-stellar intentions, the butterfly kwami had been a lot less forthcoming with information.

The absolute worst of the worst was when he didn't think through their powers enough and it nearly backfired on him. Animan lacked opposable thumbs and tried to eat Ladybug (and her earrings). Timebreaker nearly destroyed Chat Noir's Miraculous. Reflecta inadvertently made Chat Noir's Miraculous safer by turning him into a copy of herself. Both of them had powers that were essentially useless for fighting and subduing the superheroes.

Then there were the ones that put him in danger. It had been a close shave with the Black Knight, when the knight's black column of minion-creating doom slammed down barely half a block in front of his lair. Any closer and he would have been turned into a sword wielding minion. He was incredibly lucky that his secret villain lair was so far on the outskirts of the city.

Princess Fragrance was much more of a close call. Her powers had been a bad idea from the start. He knew that he hated perfumes and scents with a passion, but he had assumed that he wouldn't have to smell it. After all, she was halfway across the city.

Things went well at first. Princess Fragrance was taking control of people left and right, and it wasn't long before she had managed to get Chat Noir under her hold. Hawkmoth got a little alarmed by the whole marriage under mind control thing, but he was fairly certain that it wasn't going to be legally binding.

Fairly certain. Maybe. Hopefully. He didn't care.

And then Princess Fragrance decided to try to entrap the entire city with her heavily scented perfume. Hawkmoth watched eagerly, practically bouncing (but that would be unfitting of a master supervillain) in anticipation of getting the Miraculous... and then the pink vapor started floating closer to his lair. He sniffed once, twice.

And choked.

That smelled awful. Hawkmoth doubled over coughing, retreating as fast as he could to the back of his hideout. He had forgotten about the tiny opening in his giant window. The smell only got stronger, and Hawkmoth could feel his mind going fuzzy.

Abort. Abort. Take back her powers before it's too late!

Hawkmoth struggled to think straight enough to take back Princess Fragrance's powers. He couldn't, and he suddenly found himself hoping that Ladybug would come through and win this round. There was the sound of an explosion (what the everlasting hell, Hawkmoth thought, fuzzy-minded), and the smell stopped getting stronger. He stayed sprawled on the floor, praying for it all to be over soon.

He didn't even care that Princess Fragrance had long since ditched Ladybug and Chat Noir. He just wanted to stop smelling that godawful smell and he wanted the urge to burst out in song to stop.

Five minutes later, a swarm of ladybugs swirled by. They grew paler as they entered the window, becoming a light silver-grey and pale rose-pink as they entered the place of evil. They swept across Hawkmoth before vanishing back out the window. He sat back up and groaned. The godawful smell still hung in the air, now harmless perfume.

Worse of all, he still wanted to sing.

His next big mistake was the Vanisher. It was a fantastic idea, of course. He really needed to send this Chloe girl a fruit basket or something for all of the fantastic akumas she was causing.

The only problem? If nobody could see the Vanisher and all she was doing was bugging Chloe, it wasn't likely that Ladybug and Chat Noir would turn up anytime soon.

Hawkmoth had had some supervillains that took their time before. Lady Wifi lay low after her initial attack until she could get her target alone. The Evillustrator did pretty much the same thing. Mr. Pigeon tried for a more indirect attack, trying to lure Ladybug and Chat Noir into a trap. Still, all of them at least seemed to be moving towards getting something done. Ladybug and Chat Noir knew that there were supervillains out.

Now? Even Chloe didn't seem to know there was a supervillain targeting her. The Vanisher was just trailing behind the snotty rich girl, occasionally pushing extra elevator buttons or shuffling papers around.

There were times that Hawkmoth wished he could detransform and still keep his supervillain active. This was one of those times. Four hours in, and he had already worn his phone battery down to nothing with Flappy Bird.

"Why don't I ever bring a phone charger with me?" he griped, poking through his bag. Tossing it to the floor with his dead phone inside, he started pacing along the walls, bored beyond belief. If he was stuck up here, he might as well get some exercise. After all, his doctor had told him that that was something he needed to work on.

Somehow he suspecting that angsty pacing in a supervillain's lair wasn't exactly what the doctor had in mind.

"There aren't even any outlets up here!" Hawkmoth groaned ten minutes later after several laps around the room. "Seriously, who designed this place? Did they not think that supervillains might want access to modern technologies? And I was just thinking that it might be a good idea to install a TV up here."

That ruined his entire plan. He spent hours on end up in the spacious area, waiting for someone to be upset enough to possess. He had been considering hauling a TV up so the waiting wouldn't be so painful. From the get-go, the idea had been riddled with problems. How to get a TV up without being noticed, for one. How to get a satellite up without being noticed. If he didn't want to sit on the floor, how to get a chair or couch up.

Yeah, it was definitely a pipe dream from the get-go. Besides, it would ruin the villainous atmosphere of the place. Granted, he was the only one who ever saw it (Nooroo didn't count), but it was the thought that counted.

Six hours in, Hawkmoth found himself very, very glad that being transformed repressed the need to eat, drink, and go to the bathroom. The Vanisher still hadn't attracted any attention whatsoever and he was starting to think that he was going to have to sleep in his lair overnight. He had already threatened the girl twice to try to get her to hurry up, but his threats were empty. The idea of an invisible akuma was too good to pass up. Once she actually got Ladybug and Chat Noir in her sights, she could attack without being seen. She would be unstoppable.

Still, he would have to sleep on the floor. His lair didn't have a bed.

"There's nothing useful up here, honestly," Hawkmoth muttered to no one in particular as he sat down before laying on the cold, hard floor. Even a blow-up Thermorest would be better than this. He spotted some dust next to his head and scowled, adjusting his lumpy briefcase under his head.

Apparently he had some sweeping to do. At least the attic came with a closet full of cleaning things.

The next day dawned early and painfully bright. Hawkmoth swore colorfully as he woke up to find the sun shining directly into his eyes. He had forgotten to take into account the fact that his window was still wide open and would shine directly into the middle of the room, which just happened to be where he was sleeping.

He should have seen that coming, honestly.

The Vanisher wasn't up yet, so Hawkmoth spent a full two hours trying to fall back asleep. Even once he had relocated to the darkest corner of his hideout (also the dirtiest corner, as it turned out), the sun was still too bright and the floor too hard for him to fall back asleep. Glass glinted on the floor from the time he had chucked away a martini glass when he had to do a villain monologue.

So Hawkmoth got up, ate the last of his stash of snacks (would it be wrong of him to try to get the Vanisher to do some shopping for him?), and started sweeping the floor.

And sweeping, and sweeping, and sweeping.

"I'm asking Nooroo if I can use a butterfly to possess a janitor and make him clean this place for me," Hawkmoth grumbled, sweeping a pile of dirt and dust into the dustpan and dumping it into the trash bag he had found in the closet. "This is stupid. I should have just rented out one of those new offices on the north end of Paris, aesthetic be damned. I don't think this place has been cleaned since the stone age."

He could practically hear Nooroo snickering.

Once the floor was clean, Hawkmoth retreated back to the dead center of the floor. Even if no one was watching, he still wanted to look like a supervillain when he did supervillain things. No one would ever take him seriously if he controlled the destruction of Paris while wearing a floral bathrobe and sitting in a beanbag chair, after all.

"Invisible One!" Hawkmoth snapped as soon as the purple butterfly outline appeared over his face. "Any sign of Ladybug and Chat Noir?"

"No, not yet. I'm still bugging Chloe." The girl sounded like the most zen-ed out supervillain ever, her voice almost light and dreamy.

Hawkmoth grit his teeth. Seriously? "Could you hurry it up?"

Her dreamy voice didn't change at all. "You said I could bother Chloe for as long as I wanted. I'm still bugging her."

"Yes, yes. Pro tip on bugging people as a supervillain: they should be cowering in fear. They should be afraid of their own shadow. They should know that something's wrong. This girl you're bugging? Did she get a full night's sleep?"

"Yes, Hawkmoth."

"Why? Why didn't you pull the pillow out from under her head as she slept? Why didn't you toss her covers to the floor? Why didn't you toss a cup of cold water over her face? That would be bugging her. This," he gestured to her, even though she couldn't see it "-is not bugging. It's following her around like a lost puppy dog. Are you a lost puppy dog?"

"No!"

"Then act like it!"

"Yes, sir!"

He had graduated to getting cobwebs off the ceiling. An army of little white butterflies provided a moving platform as he used the broom to swat down the stringy white goop that had accumulated along the higher parts of the room. Some of the webs even had a couple of his butterflies stuck in them. He freed the ones that were still alive and poked the rest of the gooey off-white mess into the garbage bag.

"Is a lair supposed to look clean?" he wondered aloud, tossing the broom back into the closet. "They never said these things in fairy tales."

He spotted a bottle of Windex and some paper towels in the closet on the highest shelf and decided to ignore it. He wasn't that desperate for something to do.

Yet.

Hawkmoth stirred up his army of butterflies again, watching them flutter around before settling to the floor. He stared at them, tilting his head to the side.

"That group looks like an elephant's head if I squint," he decided. "And that one...maybe a cat paw?"

Stir up. Settle.

"Okay, definitely a mouse. Aaaand...spilt milk."

Stir up. Settle.

"A... butterfly? And... hmm. A squirrel." Hawkmoth let out an exasperated sigh as he leaned back on his hands. The purple mask appeared in front of his face. "What is going on over there, Invisible One? This is taking forever!"

"I'm bugging Chloe! She's starting to get bothered, I can tell!"

"Yes, yes, very nice. And what of Ladybug and Chat Noir?"

"I haven't seen them."

"Well, bug this Chloe person enough that she gets on TV or something! I told you there was a price for my help, and you haven't done anything yet! You can go back to bugging the girl after you get me the Miraculous."

"Of course, Hawkmoth."

As the purple mask faded, Hawkmoth was left staring at the fluttering white wings on the floor. Some of his butterflies had returned to fluttering around the room, exposing sections of the floor. With the sun shining on the floor that was no longer covered in dust, one thing became readily apparent.

The floor was still dirty. The broom hadn't gotten everything up.

"I thought that was what minions were for, so big-time supervillains don't have to do the dirty work themselves," Hawkmoth grumbled, pushing himself to his feet and heading back over to the closet. "I need better minions."

He filled a bucket with water from the tap in the closet (seriously, the closet had everything but an electrical outlet) and started mopping the floor. Halfway through, he found himself humming.

Damn Princess Fragrance. He still hadn't managed to shake off the last lingering traces of the perfume's effects.

Hawkmoth made an effort to stop humming before he continued with his mopping.

By the time Hawkmoth moved onto cleaning the windows, he had completely given up on not singing. It seemed that Princess Fragrance's residual powers grew stronger when the victim was doing something Disney Princess-esque.

Cleaning definitely qualified.

"Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, the medicine go down, the medicine go down," Hawkmoth crooned as he wiped the layer of dust off of the metal portion of the window. He swapped out his old rag for a new one and kept wiping. "A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down in the most delightful way!"

He was fairly certain that he hadn't watched Mary Poppins in years, but something about the lingering Princess Fragrance magic made him remember the lyrics perfectly.

His whistling was totally on-point too. If the supervillain business fell through, maybe he should look up a career in musical theater.

On the street below, one Theo Barbeau paused as he heard the faint sound of someone singing. It was a deep, clearly male voice... and he appeared to be belting out a Disney princess song.

Theo made a promise to himself to move the hell out of Paris as soon as he could earn enough money. This city was way too weird.

Hawkmoth had worked through nearly every Disney song he knew of by the time (a surprisingly large number) the windows were polished to his standards. It would have been better if he could wash the outside of the glass as well, but it was the middle of the day and he would have drawn a lot of attention.

The Vanisher was still not particularly active. He could tell that the mayor's daughter was starting to get a little on edge, but it wasn't enough.

This supervillain was super lucky that he liked her design so much, because he was very much ready to just pack up and go home. If this dragged on much longer, the milk in his fridge would go sour and his fruits and veggies (all part of his prescribed diet from his doctor to deal with the "concerning amounts of stress" his body was showing) would go bad, and he wouldn't even have anything to show for it at this rate.

And then. And then.

The mayor of Paris was making a city-wide announcement about his daughter being harassed, and Ladybug and Chat Noir appeared.

"It's time to honor our contract, Vanisher," Hawkmoth said, beaming as the connection between him and his akuma went through. Finally. "Ladybug and Chat Noir are at your mercy. Take their miraculous and bring them to me!"

"They won't see me coming."

Hawkmoth waited with ill-concealed glee as the Vanisher attacked...and was defeated, in what was quite possibly the shortest actual fight ever.

All of that waiting, and for nothing. Hawkmoth let out a snarl as he prepared to stomp out of his lair and back home to charge his phone and get something to eat. Before he could, intense anger shook the air.

"Really? Even before I could take a bathroom break?" Hawkmoth let out an exasperated sigh before straightening up and reaching out for a passing butterfly. "Fine. Fly, my little akuma, and blacken her heart!"

Maybe he could still salvage the day.