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MidReal Story
The Alpha King’s Twin Sisters
Scenario:My name is Misty and my Identical twin Sister is Marinette and This is the frist time meeting her and I am actualy scared because i hold the miraculous of the Wolf and Fox and she is in love with Adrian and I like Luca and we both play the Guitar and I just found out that Marinette and Luca used to be dating and honistly i am terrified of Marinette when she is Mad because I ran into her at school literaly and she pushed me down the stairs before Adrian stopped her and when I am in class people stare at how simaler we look but the only change between is is our hair she has pig tails while I have my hair down and it is long but we both have Blue hair but I have a music talent no one can repeat my music if they tried and when my class hears me sing and play that are shocked and I play any musical instrument and I am also really shy when I have a lot of people looking at me and no one knows which I am and Marinette kicked me out of the bakery and the house above so i live with Zoe in her father's hotel but I have a broken ankle from my sister pushing me down the stairs when I was late and ran into her
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Misty
She is an aspiring musician and twin sister to Marinette. She is timid, creative, and determined. Misty struggles with the fear of her sister's wrath, as their past encounters have been marked by Marinette's jealousy and aggression. She harbors a secret admiration for her neighbor, Luca, while her twin, Marinette, pursues Adrian. Their shared history is fraught with tension, from their childhood rivalry to recent incidents of bullying. Despite her fears, Misty finds solace in music and her friendship with Zoe.
Adrian
He is Marinette's boyfriend and a frequent visitor to the bakery where both sisters work. He is attentive, considerate, and conflicted. Adrian becomes entangled in the twin sisters' drama after he rejects Misty's silent message in favor of Marinette's advances. His interactions reveal his growing affection for Marinette, while leaving Misty heartbroken and excluded from his attention. His choices contribute to the ongoing tension between the sisters.
Luca
He is a chef at the bakery where both sisters work parttime. He is charming, considerate, and professional. Luca has a complicated past with Marinette, which affects his interactions with the twin sisters. He sympathetically listens to Misty's concerns after she leaves a brokenhearted voice message. His presence in the story represents a source of attraction and validation for Misty, despite Marinette's attempts to disrupt their relationships.
My name is Misty and my twin sister's name is Marinette.
She is in love with Adrian and I like Luca.
We may look the same but we are complete opposites.
I have Blue hair that is long and Marinette has Blue hair that is in pig tails.
We both play the guitar but I am way better than her.
I can play any musical instrument while she can only play the guitar.
I hold the Miraculous of the Wolf and Fox which gives me the power of speed and the ability to hear everything that is going on anywhere in Paris.
Marinette holds the Miraculous of the Butterfly and Moor Hen which gives her the power of flight, akumatized objects, and super strength.
She used to date Luca but broke up with him a year ago and now he is single.
I am scared of her because when she gets angry, she becomes a different person that you don't want to mess with.
The first time I met her was at school and I ran into her literally because I was running late and didn't see her coming from the opposite direction.
She pushed me down the stairs before Adrian stopped her from doing anything else to me.
I was lucky to only get a few bruises and scratches instead of breaking any bones.
If she finds out that I like Luca, she will kill me!
I hurry down the hallway, my footsteps echoing against the lockers as I make my way to my next class.
The realization of what her miraculous power is finally hits me and I can't help but tremble.
My hands are shaking as I clutch my textbooks closer to my chest.
Other students give me curious looks as I pass by, probably wondering why I'm not in my sister's class.
I slip into my advanced mathematics classroom and take my usual seat in the back corner where fewer people can stare at me.
Ms. Laurent begins her lecture on algebraic equations, but my mind keeps drifting to the destructive potential of Marinette's powers.
"Misty, you look like you've seen a ghost," whispers Luca, sliding into the seat next to me.
"It's Marinette... she knows about us, Luca," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.
His eyes widen with concern as he leans closer, "We need to figure out how to keep you safe before she does something drastic."
I shift uncomfortably in my seat as pain shoots through my ankle.
Luca notices me wincing and glances down at the poorly wrapped bandage peeking from the edge of my shoe.
"What happened to your ankle?" he asks, his brow furrowing with worry.
I lower my voice even more, not wanting to draw attention from the other students.
"Marinette shoved me down the stairs last week when I accidentally bumped into her in the hallway. I sprained my ankle pretty badly."
The memory makes me shrink further into my corner seat.
Luca's face darkens, "You should report her. That's not acceptable behavior."
I shake my head frantically, knowing that reporting Marinette would only escalate the situation.
"No, Luca, it's fine. It's just a minor sprain. It'll heal on its own."
But even as I say it, I know it's not true.
My ankle has been throbbing for days, and I can't help but wonder if it's more than just a sprain.
Luca looks unconvinced but doesn't press the issue further.
Instead, he pulls out his notebook and pretends to focus on the equations Ms. Laurent is writing on the board.
Luca helps me limp down the school's back stairwell, his arm steady around my waist as I wince with each step.
The late morning sun glints off the Seine ahead of us, promising a quiet escape from the crowded halls.
My ankle throbs worse than before, forcing us to pause every few steps.
When I stumble on a loose cobblestone, Luca catches me before I fall.
"Let me look at that ankle," he says, guiding me to a nearby bench.
As he gently unwraps the bandage, I realize that trusting him might be my only chance for survival.
Luca's fingers brush against my skin, and I wince as he prods the swollen area.
The purple bruising has spread beyond the bandage, and the skin feels hot to the touch.
He frowns at the injury before pulling out his phone and typing furiously.
"What are you doing?"
I ask weakly, shifting on the bench to ease the pressure on my ankle.
"Looking up urgent care clinics in the area," he replies, his brow furrowed in concentration.
I shake my head, "I can't afford that. It's just a sprain."
But Luca's expression turns serious as he shows me pictures on his phone.
"These are what normal ankle sprains look like after a few days. Yours is getting worse, not better."
My stomach drops as I compare the images to my own ankle.
The swelling is more pronounced, and the discoloration extends far beyond what's normal.
"This isn't normal healing," Luca says, his voice filled with concern.
He stands up and offers his hand.
"I'm taking you to Clinique Saint-Michel right now."
Leaning heavily on Luca's arm, I hobble along the Seine towards the clinic.
Each step sends sharp pains shooting up my leg, forcing us to pause every few meters.
When we reach a busy intersection, Luca flags down a taxi.
The driver pulls over, and Luca opens the door for me.
As I gingerly climb in, he gives the driver the address of the clinic.
I grip the door handle tightly as we hit a pothole, making my ankle throb worse.
Luca places his hand over mine, steadying me.
Through the window, I spot Marinette walking with Adrian near our usual bakery.
I sink lower in my seat, praying she doesn't see us together.
I press deeper into the leather seat, holding my breath until they disappear from view.
The throbbing in my ankle intensifies with each bump and turn.
When we finally reach the clinic, Luca pays the driver and helps me out.
But as soon as I put weight on my ankle, it gives way completely.
A sharp pain shoots up my leg, bringing tears to my eyes.
I bite my lip to keep from crying out.
Luca quickly wraps an arm around me, supporting most of my weight.
The automatic doors of the clinic slide open, releasing a blast of cold air.
Inside, I collapse into the nearest waiting room chair and clutch at my ankle.
I watch from my seat as Luca approaches the front desk.
"Excuse me," he says, his voice tight with worry.
The receptionist looks up from her computer, frowning at his rushed French.
"There's been an accident. My friend here needs to see a doctor."
She glances at me slumped in the waiting room chair, then back at Luca.
"Of course. Please fill out these forms," she says, handing him a clipboard.
Luca takes the forms and returns to me.
As he sits down, I can't help but notice how his hand brushes mine as he helps hold the clipboard steady.
My ankle pulses with stabbing pain that makes me nauseous.
I try to focus on the medical history questions, but my vision blurs from the pain.
Luca patiently helps me fill out each section, reading the questions aloud and guiding my hand as I sign my name.
After what feels like hours, Luca stands again and strides back to the reception desk.
"Please, is there any way to speed this up?" he asks, urgency lacing his voice.
The receptionist glances at the forms and nods, "I'll see what I can do, but we're quite busy today."
Luca returns to me, determination in his eyes, "Hang in there. We'll get you seen as soon as possible."
I grip the armrest of the chair as another wave of pain shoots through my ankle.
The throbbing has become almost unbearable, making my vision blur.
Luca paces near the reception desk, checking his watch every few minutes.
Finally, a nurse emerges from the double doors with a clipboard in hand, calling "Misty Dupain-Cheng?"
Relief floods through me at the sound of my name.
Luca rushes to my side, sliding his arm around my waist.
I try to stand, but my injured ankle refuses to hold any weight.
Before I can fall, Luca catches me and holds me steady.
The nurse hurries over with a wheelchair, and together they help lower me into the chair.
I grip the armrests tightly as the nurse pushes me down the sterile hallway.
Fluorescent lights flicker overhead, casting an unforgiving glare on the tile floor.
Luca walks beside me, his presence a steady comfort amidst the chaos.
As we pass other patients and medical staff, the squeaking wheels of the chair echo through the corridor.
Each bump sends a sharp jolt through my ankle, making me wince in pain.
We finally reach exam room 204.
The nurse helps me onto the padded examination table, and I try to keep my leg elevated to reduce the throbbing.
The paper crinkles beneath me as I shift my weight.
The door opens, and a woman in a white coat enters.
She has short dark hair and kind eyes.
Her coat swishes as she approaches the exam table.
I tense up, gripping the paper beneath me.
"Hello, Misty. My name is Dr. Dubois," she says with a warm smile.
She pulls up a rolling stool and sits down next to me.
Luca stands beside me, his presence comforting.
Dr. Dubois glances at her clipboard, then back at me.
"Can you tell me what happened?"
I explain how I fell on the ice, and she nods thoughtfully.
"I'm going to take a look at your ankle," she says gently.
As she reaches for my ankle, I instinctively pull it away from her touch.
Luca places his hand on my shoulder, offering reassurance.
"It's okay," he whispers softly in my ear.
Dr. Dubois smiles kindly at me, "Don't worry. I'll be as gentle as possible."
She slowly lifts the edge of my pant leg, revealing the swollen ankle.
"Does this hurt?"
She asks as she lightly touches the area around my ankle.
I nod, wincing at her touch.
She nods thoughtfully, making a note on her clipboard.
"Okay. I'm going to rotate your foot slightly."
She explains each movement before she makes it, her fingers probing the swollen area with practiced care. As she rotates my foot, I can't help but wince in pain.
Dr. Dubois sits back on her rolling stool, studying my ankle intently.
"Can you try to move your foot for me?"
She asks gently.
I grip the edges of the exam table tightly, focusing all my attention on my ankle.
I can feel Luca's hand steady on my shoulder as I try to move my foot.
I attempt to point my toes, but a searing pain shoots up my leg, causing me to gasp in shock.
I can only manage the slightest twitch before I stop, unable to bear the pain any longer.
Luca takes a step closer, his hand never leaving my shoulder.
Dr. Dubois makes another note in her chart, "Limited range of motion."
I sit rigidly, cold sweat forming on my forehead as I try to catch my breath.
Dr. Dubois looks up from her notes, her expression serious.
"Misty, I suspect you may have a fracture," she says gently.
Luca's grip on my shoulder tightens, and he leans in closer, whispering, "We'll get through this together, I promise."
I grip Luca's arm tightly as Dr. Dubois helps me back into the wheelchair.
The orderly wheels me down several corridors to radiology, Luca following closely behind.
In the X-ray room, a technician greets us with a friendly smile.
She positions my ankle on a cold metal plate, explaining each step of the process.
I hold perfectly still as the machine whirs to life, capturing images of my injured ankle from different angles.
The pain is almost unbearable as I'm forced to keep my foot turned at various degrees.
Tears well up in my eyes, but I fight them back, determined not to show weakness.
Finally, the technician finishes, and Luca helps me back into the wheelchair.
As we make our way back to the exam room, I notice my hands are shaking uncontrollably.
I take a deep breath, bracing myself for whatever comes next.
I sit rigidly on the exam table, my hands clenched into fists.
Dr. Dubois enters, carrying a large envelope containing my X-rays.
She clips them onto a lightbox, and I stare at the black and white images of my ankle.
A clear break runs across the bone, like a jagged line cutting through the smooth surface.
Dr. Dubois points to the fracture line with her pen, explaining how the bone separated when I fell.
My stomach churns as I gaze at the damaged bone.
Luca's hand finds mine, offering comfort.
Dr. Dubois outlines two options: a cast for six weeks or surgery if the bones need realignment.
The word "surgery" makes me feel dizzy.
"Let's start with the cast," she says, gesturing to a stack of boxes labeled with different colors.
"We'll reassess in a few weeks and see how the bone is healing."
I nod, trying to focus on the task at hand.
Dr. Dubois holds up a color chart, "What color would you like your cast to be?"
I glance at Luca, who shrugs.
I point to a dark blue option, matching my hair.
Dr. Dubois nods and begins preparing the materials.
She explains the process of casting, assuring me it won't hurt.
Luca helps me lie back on the exam table, and Dr. Dubois positions my ankle carefully.
She applies a wet layer of plaster to my skin, and I shiver at the cold sensation.
The weight of the plaster presses against my ankle as she smooths it out.
Dr. Dubois works methodically, wrapping layer after layer around my ankle and foot.
She explains how to keep the cast dry and what to expect during recovery.
I stare at my encased ankle, realizing this means six weeks of limited mobility.
Luca leans in, his voice low and reassuring, "Hey, maybe this is a chance to slow down and let me take care of you for once."
I manage a small smile, grateful for his support, "I guess I don't have much choice now, do I?"
Dr. Dubois finishes the last layer and looks up with a gentle smile, "And who knows, maybe you'll discover a hidden talent for painting or writing during your downtime."
She hands me a pair of crutches, demonstrating how to hold them and swing forward.
I struggle to balance on the crutches in the clinic hallway, my cast-covered foot hovering above the ground.
The rubber tips squeak against the floor as I awkwardly swing forward, Luca walking beside me, ready to catch me if I stumble.
After several wobbly attempts, I finally find a rhythm.
We leave the clinic and get into another taxi, my crutches clunking as I maneuver into the backseat.
During the ride back to school, my hands grip the crutches tightly.
Luca and I approach the school entrance, Marinette and Adrian blocking the doorway.
Marinette's eyes narrow when she sees us.
My heart pounds as we get closer - there's no other way to reach the principal's office.
Luca positions himself between me and my sister, shielding me as we near the steps.
When Marinette takes a threatening step forward, Adrian grabs her arm, holding her back.
Luca helps me maneuver up the first few stairs, the crutches wobbling under my arms.
With a deep breath, I brace myself for whatever comes next.
I hobble into Principal Damocles' office, Luca holding my elbow as I maneuver the crutches.
The secretary gives us concerned looks as we pass her desk.
Principal Damocles sits behind his desk, peering at my cast through his thick glasses.
He motions for us to enter, and Luca helps me into a chair in front of the desk.
I place my crutches against the wall, trying to get comfortable.
Principal Damocles clears his throat, "Miss Dupain-Cheng, what happened?"
My voice trembles as I explain, "Marinette pushed me down the stairs."
Luca squeezes my shoulder reassuringly.
Principal Damocles' face darkens as he takes notes, "Did anyone see this happen?"
I nod, "Adrian was there. He saw everything."
Principal Damocles leans back in his chair, his expression grave, "Then we have much to discuss."
I sit rigidly in my chair as Principal Damocles picks up his phone.
My hands grip the crutches until my knuckles turn white as he dials Adrian's classroom extension.
The wait feels like an eternity as the phone rings.
Through the thin office walls, I hear footsteps approaching - the secretary must be fetching Adrian.
Luca's hand remains steady on my shoulder as we wait.
Adrian enters, his face pale, and Principal Damocles gestures for him to sit in the chair next to mine.
"Adrian," Principal Damocles says, "I've been told you witnessed an incident involving Miss Dupain-Cheng and your sister. Can you tell me what happened?"
I hold my breath as Adrian begins to speak, his words coming out slow and strained.
His eyes dart between me and the floor as he recounts the events.
"Marinette was upset that morning. She was in a rush to get to school."
He pauses, swallowing hard.
"She was at the top of the stairs when Misty came up. It looked like Misty didn't see her, and she accidentally bumped into Marinette. Marinette deliberately shoved her down the stairs."
Principal Damocles leans forward, typing furiously on his computer as Adrian continues.
"I tried to catch Alya, but I couldn't reach her in time. When I got to the bottom of the stairs, Marinette was already there. She tried to come after Alya again, but I grabbed her arm and held her back."
My hands tremble around the crutches as Adrian finishes speaking.
Luca's grip tightens protectively on my shoulder.
Principal Damocles picks up his phone again, this time dialing another extension.
After a moment, he speaks into the receiver, "Marinette Dupain-Cheng, please report to my office immediately."
I grip my crutches tighter as Marinette walks in, her blue pigtails swinging.
She freezes mid-step when she sees us already seated in Principal Damocles' office.
Her eyes dart between me, Adrian, and Luca before landing on the cast encasing my leg.
Principal Damocles gestures to the empty chair next to Adrian, but Marinette remains standing by the door.
The color drains from her face as she notices Adrian refusing to meet her gaze.
Luca's hand tenses on my shoulder.
Principal Damocles clears his throat, "Marinette, please take a seat."
She hesitates for a moment before slowly walking over to the chair.
As she passes by Adrian, she whispers his name, but he keeps his gaze fixed on the floor.
Marinette's eyes widen in shock as she sits down.
Principal Damocles looks at her over the rim of his glasses, "Marinette, can you explain what happened on the stairs last week?"
Marinette's voice is barely audible, "I... I didn't mean to hurt her."
Adrian finally looks up, his voice firm, "But you did, Marinette. You pushed her."
Principal Damocles interjects, his tone stern, "This is a serious matter, Marinette. We need the truth."
I shift uncomfortably in my chair as Marinette takes a deep breath.
"I didn't know she was my sister until last week," she admits, her voice trembling.
"I found out by accident. I was helping the nurse with some paperwork when I saw their birth records. I couldn't believe it."
Principal Damocles' eyes widen, "You're sisters?"
Marinette nods, her gaze fixed on me.
"I was angry that no one told me. I felt betrayed."
She pauses, her voice cracking, "I didn't mean to hurt her."
My ankle throbs inside its blue cast as Principal Damocles leans back in his chair, his expression stunned.
He looks between us, his eyes wide with surprise.
"Sisters? I had no idea," he says, shaking his head.
He turns to Marinette, his voice firm, "Explain what happened on the stairs."
Marinette takes a deep breath before speaking, her words spilling out quickly.
"I was angry when I found out. I didn't know how to process it. When Misty bumped into me on the stairs, it was like everything came crashing down. I wasn't thinking. I just reacted."
Adrian finally turns to face her, his expression hardening.
"You deliberately pushed her down the stairs," he says, his voice cold.
Marinette's eyes well up with tears as she nods slowly.
"I know it was wrong. I'm so sorry." My grip on the crutches tightens as Marinette's words hang in the air.
Luca's hand remains steady on my shoulder, offering silent support.
Principal Damocles leans forward, his voice firm, "Marinette, this is a serious matter. We need to discuss the consequences of your actions."
As Principal Damocles speaks with Marinette and Adrian about what happened on the stairs, my mind drifts back to that morning.
I remember feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as I rushed down the stairs for school.
I hadn't seen Marinette there at first - my focus had been on getting to class on time.
When our shoulders collided, I hadn't realized who it was until it was too late.
The next thing I knew, I was tumbling down the stairs.
It wasn't until after the fall that Luca told me the truth - that Marinette and I were twins separated at birth.
Marinette's voice breaks through my thoughts, "I didn't know how to tell you, Misty. I was scared."
Adrian's gaze softens slightly, "But keeping it a secret only made things worse, Marinette."
Principal Damocles nods, his tone more measured, "We need to find a way forward that acknowledges the truth and ensures everyone's safety."
I hobble out of Principal Damocles' office on my crutches, still trying to wrap my head around the twin revelation.
As I make my way down the hallway, I spot Marinette approaching me.
Her eyes are red from crying, and she looks like she's carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.
"Misty, can we talk?"
She asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
I hesitate for a moment, unsure if I'm ready to have this conversation.
But Luca's concerned look tells me that it's inevitable.
"Okay," I reply, nodding slowly.
Marinette takes a deep breath, "Let's walk to the bakery together. Our parents will be there soon."
I glance at Luca, who gives me a reassuring smile.
"Sure," I say finally, knowing that this conversation is long overdue.
We walk down the street in silence, my crutches clicking against the pavement while Marinette matches my pace.
Neither of us speaks a word, but with every step closer to the bakery, the tension between us grows thicker than ever before.
Finally, we reach the glass door and push it open together.
Inside, the familiar scent of fresh bread and pastries fills the air, mingling with the unspoken words between us.
I stand awkwardly on my crutches beside Marinette in the bakery's kitchen as Mom and Dad emerge from the back office.
They freeze mid-step, their eyes darting between us in disbelief.
Dad's hand, which was carrying a tray of freshly baked croissants, drops to the floor with a loud clatter.
The croissants scatter all over the floor, but no one moves to pick them up.
Mom's hand flies to her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes.
The silence is suffocating as they take in our matching blue hair and identical features.
Marinette and I stand side by side, our faces mirroring each other's shock and uncertainty.
I grip my crutches tighter, watching as my parents' expressions shift from confusion to recognition to guilt.
Dad finally breaks the silence, his voice trembling, "We never meant to keep you apart."
Mom steps forward, her eyes pleading, "We thought it was for the best. We didn't know how to tell you."
Marinette's voice is barely a whisper, "But why? Why didn't you ever tell us?"
Mom and Dad exchange a glance before taking cautious steps forward.
Each step they take makes me shuffle backward until my back hits the kitchen counter.
The metal crutches clatter against the tile floor as I struggle to keep my balance.
Mom reaches out to touch my face, but I flinch away, causing her hand to drop limply at her side.
Dad notices my trembling and stops his advance.
Marinette watches from the doorway, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and understanding.
I grip my crutches tighter, my knuckles turning white as I try to process these strangers who claim to be my parents.
The weight of their secrets hangs heavy in the air, and I realize that forgiveness won't come easily.