Best of Both (Worlds)

[madimpossibledreamer]

For once, I apologize for the pun because it had, like, at max a minute of thought put into it I'm working on a deadline here
but at least i wrote some Shadowed Suspicion and Giles' Detective Agency so...yay?
also ended up expanding this further than I expected so aaaaa why do I do these things to myself
(and writing a ton of A/N slash summary what is this this isn't Bloody Petals)
I was gong through unfinished stories and found this.  I have no idea where to go with this, as it'd have to go massively AU and the writing of the show started out fun and innovative and quickly turned vaguely problematic (uh, yeah, stalking shouldn't be played for laughs or sympathy) and frustrating so I stopped watching.  I'd recommend a fic that does better than this on the trans!adrien front but legit just go search the Ao3 Miraculous fandom for trans!fics they're all good.  I smashed that with Devil May Cry, sorta, so it's got my usual 'I have a very, uh, creative mind' twist on it.  And I am upset I have yet to find a Half-Demon Chat fic, although for all I know it's been posted since I last looked.  The thing is, you could do some really interesting stuff with that if you had the guts to actually do it, and don't give me 'it's a kid's show', you can do some interesting writing stuff even with kid's shows limitations.  Like...there's definitely some bloodlust stuff going on with Dante, but at the same time, he has his very human heart.  Tbf I really like that 'harnessing the Shadow-self for the good' storyline.  At some point this fic *might* come out of alternative paths retirement, but as of now I have no clue where to go so think it deserves that label.

Main Points:
Miraculous with some Devil May Cry inspiration/fusion
Summary: Marinette might think she has it good, but Adrienne's never felt more blessed than the moment a tiny cat-god showed up with a ring that let him be exactly who he wants to be.  The fact that the superheroics also mean he's literally cursed with bad luck is just one of life's little ironies.
As the tag/main point above already kinda spoiled it, I don't mind putting it here, since it doesn't really get explained in fic.  "Adrienne's" mom was actually a devil/superhero, kind of like Sparda.  She fell in love with a human, Gabriel.  After she went missing, Gabriel kinda went ritual-magic-badness like Arkham (DMC3) or maybe Vergil, only he's looking for any and all power to save her/bring her back to life/whatever.  Basically, he doesn't know what needs to be done, only that he's willing to do it, up to and including sacrificing a city or more if that's what it takes, combining the power of the Miraculous with magic and demonic energy/Devil Arms.
I have no idea where exactly to go from here as I suspect from this appearance alone Gabriel knows exactly who Chat is.  He wouldn't care that his "daughter" is actually a son, just that he inherited the strength from his mother which in his eyes makes his offspring a useful pawn in his quest to bring her back.  ...Pun was unintended.
Word Count: 1441
Rating: Teen
Warning: Gun violence (no major character death, but definitely woundage)

 

          Chat’s list of things he’s allowed to think about is much, much shorter than what he lets himself think about.  Ladybug judges because she doesn’t see that.  He knows she wouldn’t be quite so harsh if she knew, because this is the Hero of Paris, but sometimes, it’s…it’s hard.  And it’s not like there’s any way to explain without giving away their secret identity, or at least way too much.  And maybe his flirting is what led to this seemingly disinterested partnership, but to be fair, he’s definitely not used to this ‘male’ thing, or male hormones, or what to do when he’s never even slapped one person in his normal life and suddenly he’s scratching things and smacking things and destroying things and part of him hungers for it.
          He’s definitely not allowed to think about the fact that he’s not a he in his “real life”, and has long hair and models women’s clothing, and…well, he’s seen the posts.  Given what he’s heard from the other models his age, it wouldn’t be any better if he was male, then, except with a little less unwanted pawing and a little more respectful statements of lust (yeah, like that makes any sense).
          He’d asked Plagg about it, and the results were simultaneously reassuring and aggravating.  “That’s just a part of your soul, kitten,” and then a demand for cheese.  (He half suspects the cat-god chose the stinky cheese just to be contrary, not because he actually prefers the stuff.)
          He doesn’t want to, can’t, be abandoned by someone else.  So he can’t be honest, not about his feelings, because LB wouldn’t take him seriously anyway, and not about his issues, because she’d throw a fit, and not about the part of him that craves the violence, because he doesn’t want her to think he’s unreliable (except she clearly already does, he knows this, it’s just another thing he’s not thinking about).
          So what, that he can’t be who he wants, even when he’s feline free?  It’s…better.  Sure, better might be all he can get, but it’s still an improvement.
          She gets friends, sure, and lets herself be the incredible geeky dork that she is, but it still doesn’t fill the void.  She can’t be honest, not with herself, not with Father, not with her friends.
          “She’s not going to save you, little stray.”  It’s not often that a duo is akumatized, even rarer that they’re not at each other’s throats, but his Lady had made a pretty good argument about how cats might not like to get a little wet, but if he went after the lightning one he’d definitely get zapped.
          “I see you really care about the environment, because you’re recycling all your lines,” he responds, and, well, this is definitely one of the weirdest ones they’ve fought, because while most akuma are happy to banter, this one’s acting like it doesn’t even hear him.  It’s…sadly not strange (he’s also not thinking about that) to be on the other end of a one-sided conversation.
          And then his eyes widen as, as if in slow motion, he sees the akuma bring out a gun, which, why do they have a gun that doesn’t tie into their theme at all akuma always use their powers not weapons unless it ties into their powers why, and tries to dodge and come up with a pun as to why that really isn’t good for the climate, only as usual his luck is bad and he dodges right into it.  He suspects there’s a scream, only he can’t hear it because his ears (both sets) are ringing, and suddenly his eyes can’t quite focus.  He does see a yo-yo go flying past, so at least Hawkmoth won’t get his Miraculous.  That’s good.

          He very strongly doesn’t expect to wake up, or for his cheeks to feel wet.  But as he blinks fuzzily he realizes LB is cradling his body (that’s a definite blush he can feel building in his cheeks) and crying over him, and she definitely shouldn’t be doing that, not when he’s far from the ideal partner and obviously the kind of useless one.  “A-paw-ently cats do have nine lives, my Lady,” he manages, voice barely above a whisper (but hey, he can hear again, that’s something).
          “You got shot.”  She’s scolding him, again, for not taking it seriously, but he can’t, not if he wants to keep it together.  Also she sounds on the verge of a panic attack, which is fair, because the one time he thought she’d died he’d barely kept it together himself.  So someone’s got to keep a clear head.
          “Our suits are pretty good fur this hero thing, don’t you think?” he tries again, and in response she taps his forehead, right above his mask.  Her fingers come away sticky with blood.
          “While you were out, Hawkmoth took control of Climate DeNile and started going on and on about True Demons.  Seriously, he started going a little Evil Scientist there.  It made capturing the akuma pretty easy, and he said you’d be fine, but…”  She sighs.  “We have to figure this out, kitty.”
          “Do we?”  He knows he’s whining, but really, he doesn’t want anything to change.  Okay, fine, so the status quo is maybe not so quo, but if something changes it’ll probably be for the worse.
          “You’re a hero and my partner and that will never change.  But I never want to see you hurt like that again.”  He sighs and starts to sit up and winces.  “What’s wrong?”  She’s a little extra sensitive, and, well, it makes sense, given what just happened.
          “I have a headache.”  He sounds as bewildered as he feels, but really, what’s up with that?
          “You did get shot in the head.  I’d be surprised if you didn’t, well, minus the ‘I’d expect you to die first’ part.”  She sounds calmer.  He suspects it’s just an act, but then, he’s pretty familiar with that particular script.  She holds out a bullet.  Also bloody.  Huh.
          “Pretty sure I’m human,” he disagrees, but then…humans don’t just wake up after being shot, do they?  Of course, neither of them have been shot in costume, but even then.  “I could try talking to Plagg, but he’s not very chat-ty.”
          “Chat.”  Despite herself, though, she’s smiling, which is something.
          And then something occurs to him, and he starts to panic again, which he’s really, really trying not to.  “Bug, was our favorite reporter around, by any chance?”
          He’s really hoping not, but of course his luck isn’t that good, because why would it be?  Her face falls, immediately.  She’s gone into fix-it mode, though, which is good because he really, really doesn’t need her to panic, too.  They need at least one of them, and preferably both of them, to keep a clear head.  “He’s going to try to use this against us.  So we’ll go with half the truth.  We’ll ask why they thought either of us were human, but we’re not demons.”
          He really, really doesn’t have to ask who ‘he’ is.  And yeah, he was thinking small.  Even if Alya hadn’t happened to be there, it’s not really the sort of thing their nemesis would just gentlemanly keep to himself.  He hadn’t really demonstrated himself as being a ‘good sport’ before.
          “At least it’ll put paw-d to a lot of the speculation about our identities, huh, Bug?”  As much as he’d like some sort of support network in place (among other things, even if he’s used to making up tests there’s nothing worse than wasting time studying for a test he’s not even going to take until two weeks later), he understands it’s not a very practical idea when the city’s supervillain could read minds.  Legit, all they need is for one teacher to have a bad day and their secret’s out.  And he can’t think of anything worse than everyone finding out, even his Lady, because her judging him would straight-up wind up in a dead Chat.  Even if death is a little harder for him to achieve than most people, apparently.
          She smiles gently.  “That being said, Chat, I want to remind you—no matter what he says, you’re not a monster.  I don’t care if it’s a weird power of your Miraculous or whether he’s right about your heritage, you’ve chosen to help me save the city, and that makes you cooler than all your grandstanding.”
          It turns out that he’s accidentally purring, but he refuses to be embarrassed about that.  Hawkmoth can say what he wants, but his Lady believes in him and that’s all he needs.