A/N: Mostly inspired by the fact that there's so many Chat Noir cat tendencies fics and even a few Ladybug hibernation fics but WHERE are my Hawkmoth tendencies fics? Anyway be the change you want to see

For non-english readers in particular since I got a lot of questions when I talked about it on the discord: mothballs are little balls of pesticide/deodorant that can be used to repel moths. Usually kept in clothes drawers and are pretty outdated now but anyway its a Real Thing and not me trying to make an innuendo i swear lol

Takes place sometime during season 2, so no Mayura. This is crack and I know that it's the butterfly miraculous, but moth tendencies were way funnier.

"Uh… Father?" Adrien peeked in through the cracked door. He shouldn't—Father valued his privacy more than anything, including his son's attention—but he couldn't help it. The brief glance he'd caught was just too weird.

Gabriel snapped to attention, his glasses jostling slightly as he tore his eyes away from the blinding lamp in the center of his desk.

"Adrien." His candycane-striped tie dropped out of his mouth. The end of it was completely chewn off. Was—did he just swallow that? People couldn't digest silk, could they? "You're supposed to be practicing your Chinese."

"I-I know, I just came down to ask Nathalie—nevermind." It wasn't like she or Father were likely to adjust his schedule so he could get ice cream with his friends, especially not when Father was doing… whatever he was doing. "Are you okay?"

"That is no concern of yours," he snapped. Which wasn't a yes. Was this some new kind of coping mechanism?

Not for the first time, Adrien wished Father would agree to go to therapy.

"Um… okay. I'll just—go back to work."

He dashed back up the stairs before Father could decide that his momentary break should be punished. But still, he couldn't get the image of the half-chewed tie or Father's wide-eyed, trancelike stare out of his head.

XXX

"Have you noticed Father acting weird?" He finally got up the nerve to ask Nathalie. "I mean, weirder than usual?"

"I am sure he is just busy as always, Adrien."

Which was just as much of a brush-off as "that is no concern of yours." Maybe he should've tried a less direct approach, but he couldn't think of one.

"Has he… been working on a line of flavored fabrics?" He tested one of his wilder theories. It would explain why Father's tie was patterned like a candy cane, at least. Even Adrien knew that wasn't in style.

Nathalie raised an eyebrow. "What would give you that idea?"

Somehow he got the feeling that telling Nathalie what he'd seen wasn't a good idea. But who else could help Father if he was struggling?

"Um… well, he seemed like he was… eating his tie? When I saw him yesterday."

She sighed, and Adrien swore he heard something like "not again" muttered under her breath. Maybe that was why he usually kept it tucked inside his vest?

"Your Father has developed some… odd habits lately. But I can assure you it is nothing to worry about."

Father had said the same thing before Mom disappeared. Adrien didn't stop worrying.

XXX

"I don't see what the big deal is. So your dad likes to chew on fabric, so what? Not everyone can have excellent taste like me." Plagg swallowed another wedge of Camembert as if to prove it.

Adrien rolled his eyes and rolled over on the floor, soaking up the warmth of the sunset spilling in through his window.

"Maybe kwamis can eat all sorts of weird stuff, but humans can't. I just don't know if this is some kind of coping mechanism, or something. Maybe he's been avoiding me because he's acting weird and he doesn't want anyone to find out."

It would explain why Father only talked to him through his tablet, more often than not. Maybe he was just embarrassed. But he couldn't go on like that forever, right? Even if Mom's disappearance hurt, they were better off leaning on each other than staying apart.

"Hate to break it to you, but your dad's already weird, kid. Eating ties is probably the best of his qualities."

Adrien sighed. It wasn't like Plagg could understand; he just put whatever he wanted in his mouth. Adrien himself could understand a little—ever since becoming Chat Noir, he sometimes had the urge to chew on cords, strings, even some plants. It was a little embarrassing, but he could usually control himself. Maybe if he shouldn't though. If Father saw him doing it, maybe he'd feel less weird about it himself?

...Or he'd punish Adrien for ruining perfectly good headphone cords. Yeah, that was more likely.

Maybe it wasn't a big deal, and he should just drop it, but he wanted to do something to help his Father.

"Get him something better to eat?" Plagg suggested when Adrien voiced the thought out loud. "A good aged swiss might do the trick. Just don't give him my Camembert; he doesn't deserve it."

"You're useless," he huffed. Maybe the internet would have better advice.

"Eating fabric" just brought up a bunch of articles about sewing machine problems and disobedient pets. Not exactly helpful. But "How to stop my dad from eating fabric" didn't seem like a useful search entry, either.

Plagg squirmed under his chin, looking up at the phone screen he held over his face. "You think it's got something to do with bugs?" He asked, pointing to the one search result Adrien's thumb had been half-covering.

"How to control bugs that eat clothes," the article was titled. Adrien snorted.

"Unless Father is secretly some kind of moth—"

His jaw snapped shut. No, no, he was not going there again. It had been bad enough when Ladybug suggested it before, and besides, it wasn't like Father's actions were any kind of proof.

Even if he had also been staring directly into a lamp, entranced…

"Adrien? Kid, you don't look so hot. What's going on?"

He didn't want to say it. It was stupid, anyway; Father had been akumatized before. He shuddered just remembering it.

But he wasn't just Adrien Agreste, son of Gabriel Agreste. He was also Chat Noir, Hero of Paris. And it would be irresponsible to drop a lead just because he was scared.

"Do you think… would Hawkmoth have animal tendencies from his miraculous too?"

Plagg's eyes went wide—wider than they always were, anyway. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Just tell me, Plagg." He didn't want to admit what he was saying at all—this was his father, and even if he could be restrictive and controlling, he wasn't evil.

He was being ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.

"Well… yeah. All miraculous users do. Nooroo's holders have always been weirder though. They tend to be shut-ins. Couldn't even bribe them out with my best brie."

"So you haven't been around a lot of past Hawkmoths?" It was both relieving and disappointing, but it made sense. If Plagg thought Father had the side-effects, he would've said something before now. Not that Plagg saw much of Father, considering Adrien didn't see much of him…

"Nope. They sent out their champions to fight for them most of the time. Not like us who've gotta do the real work."

Adrien snorted. "What work?"

"Hey, protecting you when you take a beating isn't easy!" Plagg flicked his nose, and he laughed.

"Fair, I guess." Adrien rolled over onto his stomach as his kwami zipped away. Probably grabbing some Camembert, or a stinky sock to snuggle under.

But to his surprise, Plagg didn't come back with either of those things. Instead he was carrying something just as smelly—if not worse. A small, round white ball. He was pretty sure he'd seen ones like it in his sweater drawer.

Adrien sat up and covered his nose. "Is that a—mothball?"

"You're still worried about your dad, right?"

He blinked. It was easy to forget that Plagg could be perceptive when he wanted to be. "I don't see what mothballs have to do with this."

"Really. You don't see what mothballs have to do with telling if someone is Hawkmoth," he deadpanned.

"You think I should see if Father is… you know… by seeing if he hates mothballs? Do you really think that will work? I thought Hawkmoth had the butterfly miraculous."

"You're the one who was worried about it." Plagg shrugged. "And like I said, the butterfly miraculous is weird. Think there might've been something wrong with it even before it was used by a supervillain. Maybe Hawkmoth picked his name for a reason. Anyway, you won't know unless you try it."

As far as Plagg's ideas went, it wasn't too bad. It didn't involve cheese, at least. And if Father wasn't hiding anything, then he wouldn't be bothered by it, right?

Adrien took the mothball from his kwami's outstretched paws.

He was going to prove that his Father wasn't Hawkmoth. And then he'd figure out what to do about the whole eating fabric situation.

XXX

When Nino told him he should push back against Father's boundaries, Adrien was pretty sure this wasn't what he meant. Anxiety prickled the hairs on the back of his neck as he paced in front of the bedroom door.

"Come on kid, don't get cold feet now," Plagg whispered.

"My feet aren't cold. I have socks on." Adrien frowned down at his red-and-black socks. They kept his footsteps quiet and gave him a little boost of confidence. Ladybug wouldn't be afraid to peek in his father's room.

"Let's do it," he said with newfound determination, and cracked open the door.

Hadn't Father had a window in here at one point? The sunset should be streaming in right about now, but instead Adrien had to fumble in the pitch black for the lightswitch. When the room illuminated, he blinked in shock.

"Wow." Plagg whistled. "Your dad is a few wedges short of a wheel for sure."

That… that was one way to say it. Fabric was scattered across the floor in careless heaps. At one point Adrien would have blamed it on his designing, but if that were the case, the clothes wouldn't look gnawed on.

"This is worse than I thought, Plagg." Maybe it was a good thing his kwami had encouraged him to rebel after all. Father seriously needed help. Humans shouldn't even be able to digest silk and wool! What if he got some kind of disease? What if he already had some kind of disease? That second option was more likely, considering… well, all this.

"So, you gonna drop those mothballs or not?"

"Right." Adrien snapped out of his thoughts and began digging the white spheres out of his pockets. He'd have to bury them in the chewed up clothes so Father wouldn't see them. But what if Father did notice? Was it really worth the risk just to ease his mind about Father being Hawkmoth?

...Yes, it was. Especially considering there was no proof Hawkmoth couldn't akumatize himself. And Father had been the only lead Ladybug had ever had…

He shook his head. Just put the mothballs down, and he could prove his Father was innocent once and for all.

"Alright, let's get out of here. This place is creepy," Plagg said when Adrien was done.

"I thought you would've liked the smell at least," he tried to joke. Better that than actually thinking about what he was doing.

"I'll take your stinky socks over this any day."

Adrien crept out of the bedroom, hoping that this whole endeavor ended up being pointless.

XXX

Father had a cold.

That was what Nathalie said, anyway. Adrien had never actually seen Father sick before. Nothing could keep him away from his work, or from… whatever he did when he was busy ignoring Adrien.

But he heard him wheezing behind his bedroom door, so he really had some kind of illness.

...Or he was allergic to the mothballs. Plagg didn't say it, but from the pinched look on his face every time Adrien passed by Father's door, he was definitely thinking it.

"It has to be a coincidence," Adrien told Plagg, who shrugged.

"Hey, don't look at me. You're the one who had the idea that your dad is Hawkmoth in the first place."

"Technically that was Ladybug," he mumbled, flopping back on his bed. "Maybe he just got sick from eating all that fabric."

"Maybe. But didn't Nathalie say he's been doing that for a while?"

Dang it, Plagg was right there. It was just so surreal, thinking his father could actually be the supervillain he'd been fighting this whole time.

It was going to take more than therapy to fix this.

XXX

"You think he's planning something?" Ladybug asked when they lay back on their usual rooftop at the end of their patrol route.

Adrien's stomach twisted. There'd been no sign of an akuma for two weeks.

Father had been sick for two weeks.

Coincidence. Right?

"Maybe," he mumbled, his tail twitching fitfully. Then he sat up and shook his head. "Actually, LB…"

"Yeah?" She sat up too, her gaze completely focused on him. While he normally loved to be the center of her attention, right now he wished he had nothing to say.

"Remember when you thought… well, when you thought Gabriel Agreste might be Hawkmoth?"

She startled. "Why are you bringing this up now?"

"Well, um… I got a tip from uh… Adrien. You know, Adrien Agreste?"

"Of course I know him, he's—I-I mean, everyone knows Adrien, right?" For some reason, her face looked pink in the moonlight.

"Right, right. Anyway… he was telling me he was worried about his father, and it's kind of a long story… but it seems like he might have some… moth tendencies."

Ladybug blinked. It felt like a long shot, now that he said it out loud. Stupid. He was probably just overreacting.

"What kind of moth tendencies?" She asked, her voice carefully guarded.

"Eating fabric. Staring at bright lights. Being allergic to mothballs."

"Mothballs?" She laughed. "Sorry, sorry, I believe you. It's just—wow. And here I thought my wanting to eat bugs was weird."

"You? Weird? Never," he joked to relieve some tension. She believed him. She believed him, and that meant that he wasn't just overreacting. Which meant his father could be Hawkmoth.

He swallowed, trying to hide the hole that seemed to open in the pit of his stomach.

"So… you want to investigate him? Even though he was akumatized?" Her mask furrowed around her brow, the way it tended to when she worked out her lucky charms.

"I don't… I don't know." He sighed and shook his head. "It wouldn't be easy. Believe me, I've tried."

"You—what?"

Oops. Probably shouldn't have mentioned that.

"It's no big deal. I just wanted to confirm some things for myself before taking Adrien's word for it."

"Adrien would never lie," Ladybug was quick to say.

His lips quirked upward. "I'm sure he'd be flattered to know you trust him."

Her accusation of Gabriel before couldn't have been from any kind of animosity towards him, then. Unless it was animosity on his behalf? Did he know how much his father isolated him? No, she'd have no reason to look that closely behind his model smile.

"So… why did you think Hawkmoth was Mr. Agreste before?" He asked hesitantly. Before she'd said it was a secret, and he hadn't pressed her, but it seemed an even more serious matter now. "We gave up the lead pretty fast last time."

"Maybe too fast." She grimaced. "I'm sorry. I didn't want it to be true anyway… and as for why I thought that… I found a book that I learned belonged to him. If he isn't Hawkmoth, then it was my fault he became akumatized into the Collector."

"No, it isn't. It's only ever Hawkmoth's fault, you know that." Adrien squeezed her shoulder, even as inwardly his mind was racing. Ladybug had found his father's book when he'd lost it? How? She had been there when Lila had been talking about it; maybe she'd had to double back for some reason? "Wait—you're telling me that book he was so attached to had something to do with Hawkmoth?"

Adrien had been the one with the book at first. The one she'd seen with it. Why did she trust him so much?

"Yes. Master Fu took pictures of it before I returned it so Adrien—anyway." She waved her hands, as if all that wasn't important, even though it definitely was. Father had never mentioned Ladybug returning his book! "Master Fu said the book was lost at the same time as the butterfly and peacock miraculouses. It's not hard to assume they'd end up in the same place."

Adrien was glad he wasn't standing, because he probably would have fallen. "That's… a pretty big lead."

"It really is. I should have been more responsible about investigating. Less selfish."

He had no idea what she meant by that, but the crushed look in her eyes prompted him not to ask.

"If this is true, Adrien's going to be heartbroken," she murmured, quietly enough he wasn't sure he was meant to hear.

She was right about that. But there was no reason for her to feel bad because of it.

"Hey, he's the one who gave me the tip, remember? Maybe it won't be such a shock to him."

Huh. He got all those words out with barely a crack to his voice. Maybe he was in shock.

"Maybe. But he'll still be crushed. I don't know if he has any other family, and his mom is gone. As awful as his father is, I just don't know…" She trailed off, shaking her head.

"I don't know either."

He hadn't thought about it. Any time his thoughts danced too close to the implications of his theory, they danced back just as quickly. He had to be brave. Ladybug was counting on him; Paris was counting on him. It didn't matter if one scared boy lost his father.

"So what… what do we do now?" She asked, voice soft. "We need proof, but I don't know how to get it."

Plans were normally her area of expertise. If she didn't know what to do…

"I don't know. Get a big lamp and hope it attracts him?" He shouldn't be joking right now, but it was the only thing distracting him from panicking.

(Nino's family might take him in. Or there was always the Gorilla. He wasn't alone, he wouldn't be alone—)

"You know, that's actually not a bad idea."

"Wait, it's—it's not?" He blinked.

"No, it isn't. You're a clever kitty when you want to be."

He blushed under her praise and fought off a purr. "Okay, so we draw him out with a big lamp. If Hawkmoth really does have the same kind of side-effects as us, then it should work regardless of whether or not he's transformed, right?"

"Right. So the only question is how we get a lamp big enough to draw him out." Her gaze drifted across the rooftops, to the top of the Le Grande Paris hotel. A smirk spread across her face.

"What are you thinking, Bugaboo?"

"I'm thinking I just answered that question."

XXX

Gabriel jolted back into consciousness when his desk lamp winked out. Impossible—the mansion had its own generator, mostly to keep the city from learning of his underground lair.

The lair. Where Emilie was.

"Nooroo!" He snarled, spitting the end of his tie out as he did. Cursed side-effects; he could hardly go a day without chewing on the silk. At least he could hide the end of it under his vest, which he hadn't taken off even while in bed. Better not to have Nathalie nagging him about his "habits" again.

"Yes, Master?" His kwami weakly flew out from under his pillow. Whatever illness Gabriel had contracted, Nooroo seemed to mirror. A disconcerting fact, considering how Duusuu and Emilie had felt before her… well.

But he couldn't take off his miraculous. Not until his work was finished. Unfortunately, with the incessant itching and cough that had plagued him for two weeks, he hadn't been able to sense much negative emotion beyond his own. He wasn't sure that he could stand without wheezing and collapsing from dizziness.

That dizziness was clouding his mind already. What was he doing again?

"Emilie," he rasped.

"What about her, Master?"

"Go see if… no. I need you with me. In case…"

He dissolved into a coughing fit. Nooroo, the pathetic creature, only looked on in sympathy.

"Master, you aren't well. Perhaps if you removed my miraculous—"

"No!" he snapped, making the kwami flinch. "No. Let's… investigate the power outage."

Fire flared across his skin as he threw his legs over the side of the bed. Nooroo still hovered uselessly. It was tempting to transform, but if his sudden illness was related to the miraculous, that would only exacerbate his condition.

One step in front of the other. He would not be bested by this trifling inconvenience, not with Emilie on the line.

He stumbled through the door, bracing himself against the knob with an iron grip. The generator never felt so far away.

"Master, you really should…"

Be quiet! He would've shouted, but his voice was little more than a rasp now. Everything spun. Oh, if only Nathalie hadn't gone home for the night!

Once he made it to the hallway, however, some of the fog cleared. His lungs didn't feel quite so tight. But there was… something else. A glow that hadn't been visible from his room. Through the window, like a beacon of warmth and light… Something that pushed against the darkness of his grief and rage…

His legs regained their strength the closer he grew to the light. It involved actually going out through his front door, but that wasn't so bad, was it? It was near midnight, with barely a buzz of traffic, and… and the light. How could he possibly sense any negative emotions when staring into its blinding fluorescence?

Dully he realized he should be worried about that—he needed those negative emotions if he wanted to save his beloved Emilie—but it was difficult to think beyond navigating the narrow alleyways to follow the bright beacon. How was it still out of reach? He swore it had been just outside his window, a halo of light, with just a few shadows dancing within… shadows in the shape of… some kind of insect…?

Before he could discern the image now glowing against the brick wall, something wrapped around him from behind.

"Gotcha," a girl's voice hissed. The string binding him dug into his arms.

"It's really him," a boy breathed.

"Or he's just crazy. We haven't ruled that out yet."

"Unhand me at once!" Gabriel shouted—tried to shout. His voice still hadn't fully recovered. Nooroo was safely hidden in his jacket, and for a moment he considered transforming. Why had he gone out without a bodyguard? He'd made enough enemies even as a civilian; he should've known better, but that cursed light—the light that left spots in his eyes as a red-and-black arm reached down to unplug its source.

"Sorry, Mister Agreste. Not until we check you for any mysterious jewelry."

The girl spun him around, and he came face-to-face with his archnemesis herself. It was difficult to keep the sneer off his face.

"Does the hero of Paris often accost civilians in the street?"

"Only when they show at least three signs of being Hawkbutt," Chat Noir said from behind her. He wore a sterile smile, one that clashed with the bitter green of his glinting scleras.

Gabriel shuddered. He was just a child. Nothing to be afraid of, even with the power of destruction curled within his ink-black ring.

Even when he apparently knew Gabriel's identity.

"I'll be reporting this to the authorities," he still threatened as he processed the scene. Ladybug and Chat Noir, confronting him in an alleyway with no witnesses. A now-dark spotlight he now recognized as Queen Bee's signal. A red-and-black cord that must have been the hero's Lucky Charm

They'd planned this. They knew.

Still, he clung to the hope that they wouldn't find his miraculous. Not when it was hidden under—

Ladybug tugged his half-eaten tie out from his vest. "Wow, you weren't kidding. This is..."

She trailed off as her eyes caught the shine of purple beneath the red and white silk. Beside her, Chat Noir froze.

"Nooroo, dark wings—!"

Chat Noir's claw snagged the brooch before he could complete the phrase. Nooroo zipped back into the miraculous, and Gabriel swore he heard the kwami sigh in relief.

This was… not ideal.

"It is you." Chat Noir's hands shook—with rage? Gabriel wouldn't begrudge him that. He instinctively moved to capitalize on that emotion before remembering he couldn't akumatize anyone in his current state.

"Chat…?" Ladybug reached out to him, and he turned to bury himself in her arms.

Gabriel thought it might provide an opportunity to squirm free from Ladybug's string, but her grip on her yo-yo was just as tight as her grip on her partner. He grit his teeth. Surely there was a way out of this! He couldn't lose to two teenagers over—over chasing a spotlight!

"It's okay. I'm here," the girl was consoling him, though the useless hero had barely done anything besides some quick sleight of hand.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's going to be okay." He sniffled and smiled softly at her. Then his gaze sharpened to steel when he looked back at Gabriel.

"Come on, Father. I hope they have good therapy in jail."