Work Text:
“Did- did that akuma just call himself-“
“Yeah, I heard it too. It’s the Brat.”
“That’s ‘BRAHT’, not ‘brat’, you uncultured cat! Now, give me your Miraculous!”
“Not a chance! And he got it right the first time!” Ladybug dodged the toasting fork the akuma thrust in her direction, and slid beneath the follow-up tongue of flame. Chat took the opportunity (op-purr-tunity? She had to get his puns out of her head!) to whack the akuma farther down the street.
The Brat took to his heels, booking it toward the Louvre. Ladybug and Chat Noir shared an eyeroll, then raced after him, leaving behind a street full of sausage.
“So-“ Chat Noir panted. The two of them had been fighting this one since the beginning of lunch, and both of them had missed breakfast thanks to another akuma early that morning. Hawkmoth is so going to get a lecture on the care and feeding of superheroes when we finally catch him, she thought.
“So?”
“What’s the plan?”
“I dunno yet. But don’t get hit, kitty-cat. That last tourist-“ Ladybug shuddered. Apparently the akuma’s power was to turn people into sausages; the British lady who was just a touch too slow was now a pile of bangers near the bus stop. The road was littered in andouille and kielbasa, which showed just how many people the Brat had gotten to.
“Have you spotted the item?”
“Probably that toasting fork; see the purple handle? We’ve got to get it away from him.”
She spotted Alya across the street in a doorway. Oh sure, she figures the scoop is more important than lunch, Ladybug thought sourly as her stomach growled. The smell of grilled sausage was not helping.
Chat’s stomach answered her with a growl of its own. “I think we need to find a café after all this.”
“Anywhere, so long as they don’t serve sausage.” Ladybug then saw someone behind Alya. “Teriffic. Lila’s here too.” The odd thing was, Lila was inching just a little too much into the open in her attempts to pull Alya away. The Brat would spot her any second-
With a giant leap, the akuma landed next to Alya and Lila. “More for the barbeque!” he exclaimed.
Lila tried to pull Alya in front of her, but the akuma was too quick. A jab with the toasting fork, and the Italian girl was now a large sausage with smaller Italian sausages where her hair had been. The flame then caught her, grilling the meat instantly.
Chat Noir turned to Ladybug. “You have to admit, that’s an im-purr-ovement.”
Ladybug smacked her face with her palm, then spun her yoyo upward. “Lucky Charm!” A large jar dropped into her hands.
“Sauerkraut?” Really, Tikki? She shrugged and looked around. At least this one should be straightforward. “Get ready, partner!”
She chucked the jar straight at the wall over the Brat’s head, as the akuma advanced on a slowly-backing-up Alya. Bursting open, the ‘kraut splattered over the wall and dropped onto the akuma, covering his head and shoulders in fermented cabbage. The sour smell wafted down the street, effectively killing Ladybug’s appetite.
Chat Noir was just as revolted, if the curl of his lip was any indication. But he dived in and destroyed the toasting fork right before the tip hit Alya.
As she purified the butterfly, Ladybug tried not to breathe too deeply. Between the scent of preserved grilled meat laying in the sun and preserved sour cabbage dripping down the wall, her empty stomach was threatening future mischief. She lost no time in grabbing the jar lid and tossing it in the air. Miraculous Ladybug!”
The burst of magical ladybugs swirled around the plaza, restoring people to their old selves. (Even Lila, she noted with an internal sigh. Oh well.) Ladybug turned to the former akuma, a young man holding a toasting fork.
He looked up at the heroine. “I was going to grill bratwurst for my friends for dinner, but they all cancelled today. I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be. It’s hard when you make plans and then things fall apart,” Chat Noir said, patting the man on his shoulder. “Maybe try another time. Or maybe ask your neighbors; I’m sure someone doesn’t want to cook.”
The young man brightened. “Yeah, there’s a few people in the apartment building I could ask. Thanks for saving me!” He waved and began to walk away.
“Just what were you two doing, letting me get turned into lunch meat?” Lila was fuming as she stomped up to the heroes. “You really are incompetent. I should give the Ladyblog a scoop on how you’re losing your touch.”
Chat Noir ignored the beeping of his ring. “You know, Lila, everyone who matters knows you’re not Ladybug’s bestie, especially if you rip into her on camera.” His eyes lit up, and Ladybug feared his next words. “You really are the wurst.”
Ladybug sighed. “I think she was the mortadella, kitty. But you’re right about the not being besties part.” She turned to Lila, with a forced grin that fooled absolutely no one. “We have to go; I’m sure your friend is around somewhere, so you don’t need us.” She smiled more genuinely over Lila’s shoulder, at the phone lens Alya was still holding on the scene. “Bug out!”
As she swung to the rooftops, Ladybug could faintly hear the sounds of Alya demanding answers, Lila trying to backtrack, and Chat’s laughter as he headed away.
Marinette headed towards the school, resigned to the end of lunchtime with no actual food. Her stomach protested, and she tried to silence it with a sip from her water bottle. She also tried not to resent Tikki, who was munching a cookie in her purse. To the kwami’s credit, she’d tried to share, but Marinette knew Tikki needed the energy and refused. There was only a few minutes to go- not enough time to stop by the bakery for anything.
She was so depressed, she didn’t see the person in front of her until she tripped into him. “Sorry, sorry-Adrien?”
Adrien looked as tired (and hungry) as Marinette. “It’s okay; I missed lunch, and I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“You too? I had to run and get materials for a project and didn’t have time to stop at home. Why didn’t you eat?”
“Short photoshoot; some pictures weren’t up to Father’s standards, and he needed replacements quickly for the new line.” Adrien gave her an appraising glance. “Feel like ditching this afternoon and finding food?”
“I shouldn’t-“ Marinette’s stomach chose that moment to betray her with a loud growl. “Um, okay.”
“Great!” Adrien grabbed her hand. “Let’s go before someone sees us.” He led her away at a trot, and Marinette was happy to go.
(But they passed on the German restaurant with the ‘bratwurst’ special of the day.)