Mominette: The Superhero Ban 2
Continuation of this, now with 99% more angry Chatdrien:
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…
Chat felt the thrumming of the Lucky Charm under his fingers and threw it in the air. Just in time, it transformed into millions of Ladybugs that quickly covered Paris, spreading the Cure and fixing the damage of the fight.
Within seconds, they had also covered Ladybug, removing the poles that had pierced her and healing her wounds. He watched in hopeful awe as they restored her to life.
She…was restored, right? Please say she was restored!
Like some higher power had heard him, she gasped out, panicked and eyes wide in confusion as she started grabbing her chest—grabbing for the injuries that were no longer there and the pieces of steel that were no longer where they never should have been.
She was okay.
She was okay.
His lady was okay.
“Chat?”
She was okay, even as she squeaked in surprise—for which he was only a little sorry for. He certainly hadn’t wanted to hurt her, but he needed to know she was still there. Her voice wavered as she tried to reassure him, albeit muffled as it was as he grabbed her into a fierce hug. Taking in every breath, every pulse, every bit of warmth that was the proof she was very much alive and still with him.
She clung to him in return. Even the Miraculous Cure couldn’t erase the memories or the phantom feelings of pain and blood loss.
“Is…is she okay?” Came a voice, sounding surprisingly small for how deep it was…and how loud and abrasive it had been hours before.
Chat stiffened and shot a look over his shoulder at the intruder. His eyes widened as his pupils narrowed into slits at the sight of the man…the very one responsible for all of this.
The so-called hero drew back warily at Chat’s glare.
“I didn’t…I mean,” He gave a laugh. A laugh like something was actually funny. “Hey, at least it’s not so bad anymore. Like it never happened…”
Chat’s grip tightened around her.
He had tried to be more careful with his power, but if he could fire Cataclysm from his eyes, there wouldn’t even be dust left of the other man.
Said other clearly saw this as he backed away, smiling nervously.
“She just fixed up everything, so it’s all fine now. Everything’s cool, right?” He asked, sounding more like he was trying to convince them.
Chat growled.
The other gulped.
“Come on! It was an accident!” That little hero insisted, raising his hands up in a peaceful gesture. They were shaking, though he tried to hide it. “I didn’t mean to do anything! I was just upset. It happens to everyone! I mean, that’s Hawk Moth for you, right?” He chuckled. Like it was a joke. Like it was funny. Like he hadn’t almost destroyed the city!
Chat’s growl only increased in volume. Ladybug rested a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him, which only drew the other’s attention to her as a potential ally.
“Come on, little lady! You know what I mean, don’t you?”
Chat pulled her closer to him and maneuvered the two of them in such a way as to block Ladybug from the man’s sight.
“You don’t talk to her. You have no right to say anything to her after what you did.”
Affronted, the hero seemed to regain some courage. Or perhaps it was foolishness? Regardless, he saw fit to puff himself up and try to posture towards the already very unhappy cat hero.
“Hey! This only happened because of YOU in the first place. You’re just kids and this only proves that! If you hadn’t been so—”
He cut off as a clawed hand gripped his throat. Within an instant, Chat Noir had blurred from his place at Ladybug’s side to right in front of the man. Not that he caught it before he felt the air being choked from him. Neither had anyone else. (Robin had to rewind the tape and play it in slow motion, and even then it hadn’t caught more than a couple blips of movement.)
“What?” Chat asked, teeth glinting at the points that suddenly seemed…much sharper than initially presented. “Were we ‘mean’ to the big brave ‘adult’? Did we hurt your precious feelings?”
The other gagged and sputtered. Chat found a sick satisfaction in the scene and a desire to see if he could draw out those sounds again. Or just wait and watch that disgusting face turn as ashen pale as his world had been for the last several hours.
To say that Chat Noir was “angry” would be akin to saying the sun was “kind of hot”. A vague oversimplification that failed to do the truth justice. No words could describe the depths of his feelings in that moment, even if he were to try to name it afterwards.
Chat wasn’t angry.
Angry was quiet. Angry was passive aggressive at best and rude or snarky at worst. Angry was dropping his friendship with Chloe. Angry was wanting to throttle Hawk Moth. Angry was threatening Lila when she went too far.
Angry in this case had left the building in complete fear of the rolling and broiling emotions surging through him.
There would be no calming down. No forgiveness. No talking things out. No second chances.
Nice, sweet Adrien wasn’t here today.
Funny, joke around Chat decided to take a hike.
Any part of him that would usually be passive and positive and think of the high road was currently curled up in a fetal position, sobbing incoherently.
All there was right now was pure rage.
A swell of emotions telling him that eviscerating this idiot would not only be an awesome idea, but may even be the highlight of his year and perhaps the one thing he would never regret, damn the consequences.
Such emotions would practically be a beacon to Hawk Moth.
It is perhaps fortunate then that for all else that could be said about the man and his poor life choices, he was wise enough to figure out that this was one instance he probably shouldn’t touch. Because there was little doubt that Chat Noir would be gunning for the Butterfly user next.
But Hawk Moth wasn’t even a concept Chat was able to register at this time. He had no real awareness of his surroundings. He barely felt the hands scrabbling at his arm. Barely considered the tears in the man’s eyes. Barely wondered if he was begging for mercy.
“Chat.”
It was only her voice that broke him from his fugue. The reminder that she was in fact alive and very much there got his attention. Not enough to release the man, but enough to bring him back to reality. Just enough to draw his gaze to her own as she looked up at him pleadingly.
And how could he ever say no to her?
Without hesitation (and maybe only a little reluctantly), he released his grip, allowing the man to regain the sweet sweet air he didn’t deserve.
The “hero” fell to his knees and scrambled backwards away from him. Chat could have laughed. In normal circumstances, maybe he would have. But at this point, he didn’t feel anything but a slight disappointment and that all-encompassing rage. Dangerous feelings to be having in Paris at any point and certainly dangerous to be having right now.
He took a breath. A deep, shuddering breath as he tried to make his mind focus on anything besides how much he wanted to commit murder and blame it on the akuma. Would anyone fault him, really?
“We are not children.” He spat out. “We are not sidekicks. And we are not any sort of stepping stool for the purpose of being your ‘big breakout scene into the world superhero stage’.”
Chat glared down at the man in disgust. “We. Are. Heroes. This is our city, and we have been doing this a heck of a lot longer than you. We know what we’re doing. And we have been doing it without any sort of guidance or mentor—not because we didn’t want them or never asked, but because WE HAD TO. What’s your excuse?”
The would-be hero opened his mouth to interject, but Chat cut him off.
“No. Shut up, I don’t care. You came in here, trying to be a leader without even the slightest idea of how to be part of a team in the first place. You disregarded anything we tried to tell you and insisted on playing ‘by your own rules’ regardless of who got hurt or the glaringly obvious fact that it wasn’t working anyway.”
Not his “leadership”. Not his “battle plans”. Not his “techniques”, if they could even be called that. Nothing, literally nothing this idiot did worked despite all efforts on everyone else’s part precisely because of him. Because he was the one doing it and always ALWAYS choosing to do it the worst way.
Chat knelt in front of the guy, hissing lowly. “You know why you were easy pickings for Hawk Moth? Because you have delusions of grandeur that no amount of effort on our part could break through—and trust me, I’ve faced akumas with skin thicker than yours.”
He shook his head and stared down at the man with disdain. “You thought you’d be the next big thing? Justice League material? Newsflash! You’re no Superman. You’re not even a Booster Gold.”
“Hey!”
“Shut up.” Chat cut him off with a snarl. “You’ve fucked up enough for nine lifetimes. You wanted recognition? Well congratulations, buddy! You have it.”
The other drew back at that in wariness as Chat leaned towards him.
“Whoever you think you are? We don’t care. Whatever help you want to offer? We’re not interested. The only thing we need from you is to have the damned sense to stay out of our way.”
He growled, leaning even closer. The other didn’t dare to move, a far cry from his usual overconfident self. Chat didn’t even give him an opportunity to regain his bearing or any semblance of control over the situation. Control had long flown out the window. All that was left was to shut up and pray there would be mercy.
Because right now, Chat had none to give. Whether he knew it or not, his own bad luck magic was writhing beneath his skin, itching to be released.
And there was only one target.
“You’ve got a chip on your shoulder and something to prove. But you’re not doing it here.”
They were practically nose to nose. The pulse of something passing between them.
“So if you still think you want to be a hero? Do it somewhere else.”
There was an underlying threat to that statement. An unsaid but in no way hidden warning to not only cease hero work in Paris, but to get out of the city altogether. Because if Chat Noir caught him anywhere after this, there was a very real likelihood that Ladybug wasn’t going to stop him a second time.
The hero clearly heard that threat, because he gave confirmation through a pathetic little squeal before turning tail and running off.
Chat sneered at the coward as he watched him flee. All the more unimpressed. Even regretful that he wasn’t going to finish the job and make one less potential ally for Hawk Moth in the future.
But…
A shrill sound pieced the air from behind him, making his ears twitch. It drew his focus back to Ladybug. She was clearly unsteady and oh so drained, but still trying to force herself to stand. The earrings were beeping and she wouldn’t have much longer before she detransformed.
She needed to not be in the open when that happened.
More than that, she was still clearly suffering some remaining injury and needed to be seen to. He especially didn’t want to risk her being unprotected when that happened.
He quickly moved to her side and pulled her into a Princess carry.
“Chat.” She whispered, clutching to him. An admonishment, perhaps. But a weak one. She had no resistance. She didn’t even have the strength to try and fight him on this. Not a good sign.
“Just hang on, m’lady.” He assured her.
He shifted his grip before turning in a specific direction with only one destination in mind.
“We’re going home.”
It didn’t matter that she insisted she could walk.
It didn’t matter that she assured him she was fine.
It didn’t matter how much his hands were shaking.
He wasn’t going to let her go.
Not after that.
Not for a while, at least.
It was quite possibly the only thing preventing him from committing murder.
