“A Little Lady’s Fury” Chapter 2
Author's Note: I'm so happy I got a lot of responses to this story! The real thanks goes to @aeonthedimensionalgirl for letting me write her story. I hope everyone enjoys this new chapter!
Chapter 2
Hawkmoth knew that today was going to be the perfect day to make an akuma. After all, a holiday like Valentine's day always brought some kind of drama which meant that someone's emotions were going to end up being a mess and make them easy prey. In his secret lair, his window opened, allowing only the minimum amount of light into the room. The bright, white butterflies around him took flight as a smirk crossed his lips.
What a wonderful day to capture Ladybug and Chat Noir's miraculous!
Thomas' plans for the day hadn't been ending up at the Trocadéro with his head in his hands, anger radiating off every inch of his being. He'd messed up. Big time. He wouldn't be surprised if his sweetheart just decided that he wasn't worth the time or energy anymore and left. Just like that. Just like everyone else.
He screamed.
Other couples nearby stared at him. Some went out of their way to avoid him and others stared in concern. Nobody approached him though which was fine; he just wanted to sit and stew in his anger and frustration alone.
Then, he was peaceful, near quiet in his mind. His eyes glassed over as the purple butterfly mask appeared over his eyes and he knew, as a Parisian, what was happening. It was perfectly fine for him too. He dropped his hands from his head. A sneering voice greeted. "Love Rage, I am Hawkmoth. Being angry is only natural especially when they're being secretive and cold with you. More people should feel what you are currently feeling," the voice assured him. Thomas gripped his hands knuckle white against his pants. Where was the lie? Everyone around him looked at him as nothing more than an angry monster (considering he stood at a staggering height of six feet and three inches tall and was surprisingly muscular for a person of his stature) when he was certain that many of them had no room to judge him! A sneer crossed his lips.
"How can I help," he asked. Hawkmoth, hidden away somewhere in the confines of his lair, allowed his smile to grow wider.
"I will give you the power you need," he promised, "As long as you bring me the Miraculous of Ladybug and Chat Noir: the earrings and ring!"
He stood, the purple mask being clearly outlined on his face, squeezing his fist close. "Deal!"
The world melted to black.
Marinette felt absolutely sick to her stomach. She and Alya had appropriately celebrated her success in sending off the letter with a tiny party of sweets and movies in her room before the other girl had left for the evening. She had been giddy all night on patrol. Chat Noir had noticed too; he had tilted his head quizzically at her, shot a couple of puns and questions, but she fielded them only by saying that tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.
He thankfully had not pushed the issue.
Now as she sat in the first class of the day, her stomach felt like it had captured a lot of the akumas instead of her yo-yo. Her bluebell eyes darted around the room. First to the door, then to the board, then down to her sketchbook where she absently drew various hearts and a couple of new designs, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she worked. Alya waved a hand in front of her face at one point. When she didn't acknowledge, she smirked, leaning in close and whispering, "Hey Mari, Adrien's here."
The half-Asian yelped. A couple of other heads in the room eyed her questioningly but she flushed and waved to them. They returned to what they were doing as she glared at her giggling friend who definitely did not look apologetic by any stretch of the imagination. Mari stuck out her tongue.
"Not cool Alya."
"Girl, the way you were off dreaming, I had to get your attention some way." She held up her phone. Mari blinked at the sudden electronic brightness that was in her face. Alya had pulled up her pride and joy, the Ladyblog, and was in the middle of posting a new report. "Anyway, give me your feedback. I was thinking of doing a blog on how to incorporate some ladybug inspired gear into the everyday outfit since I did the post about ladybugs being symbols of love and fortune last year. Maybe a "luck your way into love" kind of article thing. It's cheesy. I know but it is a pretty popular topic. Especially around this time of year." Marinette rubbed her eyes.
"I think it's a cool idea. If anything, you can even hide it more by using just solid red and black accessories."
Alya scrolled up on her phone. "True. The spots don't necessarily have to be there but they do make it look cute." She nodded.
"Exactly. Do you need me to whip anything up for you? I have some left over fabric from that skirt project I did for you last month." The darker skinned girl smiled at her friend.
"That would be awesome! How about a bow and maybe a purse? Just cute, simple things you can get done easily." Marinette giggled and slid the sketchbook over to her. On the page were a couple of designs: hair bows, bow ties, ties, belts, purses, and jewelry of all kind. She leaned back in her seat as Alya gushed over the designs, flipping back and forth through some of the pages to see what other special offerings the girl could give.
"All of those would be pretty quick. Why don't we go back to my place during lunch to get them done?"
Alya nodded. She grabbed her bag and together, the two girls left the classroom. They were chatting animatedly when suddenly there was a scream behind them. They turned enough to see an akuma floating some distance above the ground, shooting people with some energy from his hands (honestly like every other akuma ever. Hawkmoth was really unoriginal with the spread of his akuma's influence). He was large. It was almost cartoonish as to how bulky he was. His hair was slicked back and there was a black spiked helmet on his head which matched the black colored mask he had over his face. His shoulders were covered by a thick, spiked leather jacket with the words "Love Rage" stitched on the back. He, like the other akumas and the heroes, had a skin tight suit underneath it. The ensemble ended in a pair of biker boots. He cackled, shooting again, "Everyone will feel Love's rage!" Marinette's face dropped when he turned on the two of them.
She was sure she would never forget the depraved look on his face, the twisted smirk, as he raised his hands at them, and fired.
There wasn't any time!
Mari did the only thing she could. She immediately jumped towards Alya, shouting, "Run!" The umber haired girl staggered but did as she was ordered. Her legs pumped like crazy. She wasn't even sure where she was going for a second until she ended up nearly collapsing in the front of the Dupain-Cheng bakery. Several guests stared at her. Sabine gasped, moving quickly around the register to help her. Tom heard some commotion. He ducked his head out of the kitchen to see what was up. When he saw his daughter's friend nearly on the floor in his bakery, he went back in for a glass of water which he brought to her immediately. She took it. Alya downed half of it before she managed to explain what happened, "There's... There's an akuma. Mari and I had to run away. He was making a mess of the park area." The customers mumbled again. Sabine and Tom however, paled. The older woman grabbed her shoulders gently but firmly.
"Marinette was with you? Where is she?" Alya blinked. She turned quickly and too paled.
Marinette was missing!
Love Rage liked his newest minion.
The young girl, a dark haired half-Asian, had been rather heroic when she'd pushed her friend out of his blast to give her a chance to run away, but it hadn't saved her. She'd been hit. Square in the back. There was a gasped followed by a thud as she fell to the ground.
At first, he thought he might have accidentally knocked her out but she eventually pushed herself up, let loose a low, menacing growl as she reached up to pull her pigtails out. She shook her hair loose. Spinning revealed to him that his power had worked; her eyes were no longer a normal shade or even remotely normal as they had turned completely red. The others he had blasted came up behind her. They bowed. Love Rage smirked in approval. Raising his hand to point, he ordered them, "Go! Find Ladybug and Chat Noir and bring them to me."
The mindless minions grunted, taking off into the streets of Paris.
At first, no one knew what was going on. They stared in confusion at the people who came flooding into the public area at the same time, reaching for whatever they could, destroying and using to destroy. Those unfortunate enough to not run away ended up on the receiving end of several flying fists. The anger was tangible.
If Love Rage was anything, he wasn't a liar. There was no way he couldn't lie about having a favorite minion and it turned out to be the last one he'd turned; the half Asian girl with medium length dark hair. She was agile. Easily clearing a park bench, she landed, like a predatory cat, on an unfortunate man whose face was nearly destroyed as she purely wailed on him. She was remorseless. Particularly when it came to couples. Anyone caught near her, especially pairs, were immediately lunged for, pummeled to a pile of pain and blood, before she would quickly and efficiently sprint off for the next person. He laughed.
His power worked the strongest on those who had love troubles.
Her troubles must be great.
His eyes scanned the horizon after finishing his admiration of her. Chat Noir and Ladybug were nowhere to be seen. The purple mask of Hawkmoth appeared on his face and the voice returned, "It's only a matter of time before they appear."
"Yes Hawkmoth," he agreed, "and when they do, I will be ready for them."
"Excellent. Make sure I get those Miraculouses Love Rage."
"Yes Hawkmoth."
The villain smiled, tightening his hands on the top of his cane. His heart pounded. This time would be different; he felt it. It would only be a matter of time, as he had told his pawn, before they appeared and the miraculous were finally, finally, his. His eyes wandered through Love Rage's eyes, watching the chaos unfold on the streets of Paris, he couldn't help, like him, but be impressed with the young lady below. He knew her. Marinette Dupain-Cheng if he remembered correctly. Student at Collège Françoise Dupont. Winner of the derby competition the previous year. If memory continued to serve correctly, she was one of two students within her class that he had not yet akumatized. Her skills were impressive. She was strong, agile, lethal in appearance, and everything she did was with intention.
He mused as to how long it would before she finally had a purple mask of her own to wear.
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