Chapter Text
“Kid.”
5 times.
“You gotta listen.”
5 times had Adrien been smacked by angry yelling little black paws.
“Okay. I’ll stop.” The boy put his hands up, away from an overpacked duffel.
“Can you at all repeat what I’ve been telling you?” Plagg’s tailed swished angrily.
Adrien smiled innocently.
6 times.
“Kid,” Plagg groaned. “I’m not letting you drink that potion if you don’t fucking listen, okay?”
“Fine. I’m listening.”
“Okay. Good.” The little god huffed, arms crossed. “One: you are to have no fewer than three Camembert slices on you. Two: whatever Pigtails says, goes. Three:”
“DONT DIE!” Plagg blew out his eardrum.
“Okay, okay! You don’t have to shout!” Adrien mumbled, returning to shoving on a zipper.
“I’m serious kid. I’m gonna be in there with you. You remember Labeii?”
“Yes, I remember Labeii.” Adrien huffed, shoving the bag on top of a duffel pyramid. “Every time I mention the potion you say,” his voice hitched up, imitating his little companion, “‘there was a holder who took the potion and used up too much energy, and now Labeii is gone forever!’”
“Don’t trivialize this shit!” Hurt spat out where fury should have been.
Adrien stopped, sighing, reaching out to cup his kwami into his palms.
“Plagg, I’m sorry. I’m just excited, okay? I’ve got a whole weekend with no Father, no Nathalie, no modeling, no lessons- and I get to spend it hanging out with Ladybug. As a cat!!”
Plagg rolled his eyes.
“But I promise you, I’ll listen to Ladybug, I’ll give you extra cheese,” he rubbed his little velvet head.
“And I promise I won’t die. Okay?”
Tiny emeralds glinted back up at him. “And you’re not gonna break that promise, right, knucklehead?”
“Pfft. Of course not. That’s what ‘promise’ means.”
Plagg sighed, floating off his hand. “All right. You coulda said that sooner. There’s no rush to go anywhere with all these bags, anyway.”
Adrien groaned, stuffing his hands full of overpacked bags and stumbling towards the bathroom. “Father and Nathalie going on a business trip doesn’t mean my bodyguard leaves. I still have to trick him into thinking I’m spending the weekend at Nino’s.”
“And Nino….?”
“I just asked him to pretend I was there for a weekend.” He shrugged. “He said yes, but… too enthusiastically to be normal.”
“Ugh, I thought Pigtails was supposed to be the convoluted one. But whatever.” Plagg gulped down a slice of Camembert. “When ‘r ya shpossed ta meet her?”
“Um,” he glanced at a clock. “AH!!”
He became a cyclone of blonde running back and forth to shove everything into bathroom cabinets.
“Plagg, cl-“
“Message your bodyguard, kid.” Plagg drawled.
“Urgh!” He furiously typed out a text that he was being picked up and he got everything out and okay that was good go go go!
“Plagg, claws out!”
Chat Noir skidded to a halt, panting heavily and collapsing on the designated roof.
Ladybug was nowhere to be seen. Nothing but him and the gray wall of clouds. He checked the time.
Maybe he had misread the clock.
Whatever, it was a normal mistake! Of course he’d be excited to trade leather for fur and fulfill a lifelong dream, sue him! Ignore that he only got this lifelong dream a week ago.
The roof he was currently splayed on was a single story, but it had enough area that no one from the street could rightly see the center. Meaning the citizens of Paris were clueless to their beloved hero rolling back and forth in the dirt.
“There is something so, so wrong with you.”
“My Lady!!” Chat stopped, eyes whipping to the stark red against the gray gray sky.
“I mean, really?” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I try to get arrive just a little earlier and you’re already here. Rolling around like a god damn soup can.”
“Purr-haps I’d be more normal if I had a potion? Of the turn-me-into-a-cat variety?” He stood and dusted himself off.
“Nothing could make you more normal, kitty.” She laughed, the sound music to his ears.
“But I can’t give it to you yet.” She grabbed his shoulders, suddenly forcing him onto his knees.
“M-My Lady!?” His face bloomed red as eyebrows raised up at her.
“Hold on. You’re too tall.” Unceremoniously, her hand smacked onto his head, ruffling around. A strangled purr tore through his throat.
Rarely did the two come in contact with the other’s exposed skin, a right reserved for kissing akumas and necessary face slaps. Rarer did people he love run their hands through his locks, tousling boring perfect blonde into something so lovely and ugly. Would it be rude to ask her to pet his head more often?
Much too soon, her hand left. His scalp ached at the loss of contact. Chat opened his eyes (when did they even close?) to see Ladybug studying her hand, searching for something.
He croaked, “Wha-“
“Need hair for your return potion.” She explained. “What the hell, that didn’t work! I thought cats were supposed to shed like crazy!”
“My Lady,” he huffed out a laugh, “do you think I don’t brush my hair?”
“YES!” She cried. “Just look at you!”
She reached for his hair again. “Whatever. I still need a part of you.”
“Ah, but there’s no need!” He smiled. “My Lady already has my heart!”
Thwap. She gently smacked the top of his head, “I can’t wait until you’re just meowing.”
“Meow.”
A tug on his hair. A shiver sudden bolted down his spine; his breath hitched, face suddenly a fire against the wind.
Very firmly, he decided to never, ever process how hair pulling made him feel.
“Kay. That should be good.” With one fist closed, she tried opening up her yo-yo to pull something out, struggling. Chat took the opportunity to stand and discreetly fan his face.
“There!” She finally pulled out a ziploc baggy, shoving the hair inside.
“At least some part of me will be with you fur-ever.” He grinned, eyes batting as hers rolled. “How are you gonna explain a bag of hair to your parents?”
“Eh, you’re blonde, so it won’t be that hard.” She shrugged.
“Wh. What does that mean??”
“H-hey how about your potion!!” She deflected. “Did you make your preparations?”
“Uh-huh!” He nodded, letting the topic slide. “I talked to my Kwami and I’ve got a cover for the whole weekend!”
“The whole weekend? Chat, I told you I’ve got plans today, this is only gonna last like an hour!”
He pushed his index fingers together, pouting. “I know, but…”
She raised an eyebrow, somehow impervious to his best puppy dog eyes. Er, kitty cat eyes.
“At least you’re getting something. If you weren’t so damn- darn- insistent this potion would be emergency use only.” She sighed. “But who am I to deny Paris’s favorite cat boy his playtime.”
“You would be so cruel,” Chat dramatically wept, hand to chest, “I would have no choice but to report you for animal abuse!”
“You think they accept reports for bug abuse? Cuz I’d have a mountain of complaints against you-“ a harsh gust of wind came through, ripping the bag of hair from Ladybug’s unprepared fingers.
“Son of a bitch!!” She hollered. Chat flinched.
Ladybug chased the roaming bag across the roof, having to actually pounce on it. She returned to Chat with an amused huff, prepared for some stupid joke.
Instead, all she got was him quietly wringing his tail, shoulders hunched and ears flat, like he could somehow make himself smaller.
“Hey, whats wrong?” She tried, “I got the hair, there’s no need to worry!”
His voice was barely a whisper above the city. “You said that thing.”
“I- shit, did I? I’m sorry, Chat, really. I promise, I’m trying to work it out of my lexicon.”
As it turned out, Chat Noir really hated the phrase ‘son of a bitch.’ The second anyone said it in any context, he would shut down in completely a unChat-like manner. Which was a problem for Marinette, who swore like a motherfucker, and Ladybug, who struggled enough with having a filter publicly and could hardly keep it together in more relaxed settings. It turns out her getting more comfortable being “herself” around Chat had a couple unpredicted downsides.
“Hey, let’s just go over some rules, and then you get to be a little kitty cat?”
His ears perked up just a little.
“I’m gonna be upfront. This potion hurts like hell. And you have to- well, I don’t know if you have to, but I was- you have to detransform first before you drink it. So I won’t be able to help you until you give me some kind of signal, okay?”
He nodded, shoulders slowly easing up.
“Kay. And- this is important, Chat,” she snapped her fingers, not continuing until thin green eyes saw nothing but bluebell, “you can’t let anyone know that you’re a person. Even more than your identity. If Hawkmoth got a hold of this information…”
A visible shudder wracked her body. “Don’t let him learn! I’ve already had too many nightmares about that, and I’d much rather get back to the predictable nightmares!”
“My Lady?” Concern poured out of Chat’s voice, “you’ve been having nightm-?”
“We’re not talking about that!” She yelled, shoving her arm into her yo-yo. “Hey, woah! Cat potion! Yay!”
Chat Noir pursed his lips, accepting the crumpled Dasani water bottle. She might worm her way out of the conversation now, but he for certain was going hound her later about the topic. And probably also hound the internet for cat-based alternatives to “hounding.”
“My Lady, this isn’t from the Seine, is it?” He dangled the bottle up to eye level. The water was dark and murky; visible particles kicked up and spun around at every little movement. Hairs, unidentifiable clumps, and bubbles of a liquid that was defiantly heterogeneous. With how little light was getting through the army of clouds, he could hardly see through the bottle.
This was his ticket to four-legs town.
Yuck.
“Of course I didn’t get Seine water! You’re the only one who goes in there willingly. Only drink half, by the way.”
“Kaaay.” He chirped, excitement building back up within him.
“I’ll have to go back home and make the to-human potion, too.”
“Huh? Y’mean you didn’t already have it?”
“Chat, what was the first thing I did when I saw you?” She huffed.
“Um…” he puzzled, “Call me weird?”
“No!” She spun, hands thrown to the air. “Your hair.”
“Ohhhh.” Sometimes the cat ears made his skull dense.
“Whatever. Chop chop.” She sat down on the edge of the roof.
“Claws in.”
Adrien gulped, nervousness suddenly bursting forth in waves. Plagg settled on his shoulder wordlessly, giving his cheek a reassuring pat.
“Hey, I don’t need to take off my clothes, right?” He called.
“For the love of god, keep your clothes on!” She hollered back. He could see just the faintest red on her neck. “Don’t you think I would’ve been fucking mortified if I had changed back to a human without any clothes?”
“…Good point.”
He didn’t know what he was expecting a ‘turn into a cat potion’ to taste like, but it certainly wasn’t this. It was unbearably sweet with hints of cardboard, and it had the same viscosity as water. Before he knew it, half the bottle was gone.
And he was still Adrien.
“Uhm, I don’t think it worked.” He yelled, screwing the cap back onto the bottle.
“Give it a second!” She shouted, murmuring something else that was sure to be an expletive.
He set the bottle down and took in the day. Storm clouds had gathered overhead for the past couple days, and each time the predictions of rain were wrong. Today, the weather had said there would be a thunderstorm, but in all likelihood, it could just be another cloudy day.
A slow discomfort crept into his stomach, like he ate something rotten.
“Hey, you didn’t put feathers in this, did you? Or drop it on the floor?”
“No-“ she scoffed, “Actually, no, I did drop the bottle a couple times.”
He laughed at that. A couple times off hand she mentioned being clumsy outside of the suit, but the amount of times she reported dropping things was starting to rival Marinette.
He breathed in to laugh.
Sharp pain rocketed through his body.
——>
Another bolt of burning pain shot up from his stomach, forcing him to lurch forward. His heart began to race. The shots of pain became constant, each just as worse as the last. Bile and spit rose into his mouth, his airway contracting further with every pulse.
Every part of his spine burnt like a brand, and it took everything in him to get himself on the ground. Plagg entered his sight briefly, a pitying look on his face, before getting sucked into the ring. Any brainpower Adrien might’ve had got sucked away too.
A sudden snap rung in his ears, a precursor to a cacophony- each crunch of his bones felt louder and louder until his ears ached from the sound. Then all sound was gone- nothing but the hum of emptiness and blood boiling. Fingers bent in ways they shouldn’t, his shoulders being pushed around a rib cage that was collapsing.
His vision faded too, leaving his mouth open in a silent scream as his skull stretched and compressed, breaking and folding in on itself. Teeth molded themselves into fangs- tongue muscles thinned and sharpened. Thousands of smells burst through his nostrils and pounded at his brain, begging for attention that he couldn’t give.
As his bones finally settled, his hearing faded back in, much more deafening than it had been- the streets of Paris accosting him. Every part of him ached, and his heart was still pounding. Maybe it was over?
To answer his prayer with a hearty “no,” his skin erupted in fire, the sound of hair breaking his skin acutely described to him. By his mouth, fire burned into sensory overload. Every part of him ached. The prickly grainy ground beneath him was acid on his senses.
<——
Adrien Agreste was gone. Now in his place was a black cat.
Chat heaved, throat raw from the transformation. A cool wind blew over him, soothing what little it could. Finally, he registered the smells of the city: acrid tires, the stench of people hurrying, bitter sulfur in the air. What he wouldn’t give to keep his nose human.
Slowly, he opened his eyes. What had previously been a dim and dreary day was now scorching bright. The world was also sideways.
His neck felt stiff, but he managed to tilt it and get his chin resting on the ground. There, his eyes focused on the less glaring concrete, framed by a little black nose.
“Chat? You okay?” Ladybug called.
“Myya…” he groaned, surprised at how high pitched his voice was.
“I’m gonna turn around, okay?”
“Myi..” God, this jaw was so much harder to work with. He rolled his neck a little to get more jaw room. “Mowww.. mrow? Wuh. Wa-o!”
He heard her footsteps approaching him, and registered that she said something to him, but it was lost in his focus on working his mouth. This kitty had a mission.
“Mrar. Ray. Ree. Mrar. Ray ri.” He paused, testing out how his tongue moved. “Myi. Ray ri.”
Chat finally looked up at Ladybug, who was squatting over him. Her shadow overtook him, black blending into black.
“Myi Rayri!” He grinned up at her.
“Did you just ‘My Lady’ me. As a cat.” She gaped.
He nodded before settling his head back down. All his hard work paid off.
“Dork.”
As he laid there, he idly flexed his paws, watching the claws go in and out. His tongue wiggled around in his mouth, finding his teeth and failing to move into a ‘d’ position.
His flank suddenly erupted in pressing pain, involuntarily making him hiss.
“Sorry, sorry!” The pressure retracted. “I should have checked before trying to pet.”
Chat huffed, turning to see the source.
Ladybug’s hand hovered, guilt painted on her face.
What she was hovering over was a short haired black body, back legs kicked out to the side with a long limp tail stringing out.
That little fuzzy body was him.
Holy cow.
He was a cat.
Excited energy burst through his nerves, he needed to bounce and play and sing and curl and-
Too quick, too quick! He almost pulled a muscle trying to sit up. Maybe getting acquainted with his new movement system should be first on the list.
“Y’know, you’re a really skinny cat.” Ladybug noted, watching him slowly push up and readjust. “And your eyes are still green as hell. The cat I stole the fur off of definitely had yellow eyes. Wonder how that works.”
Sitting felt oddly comfortable, like his spine was curving in just the right way. But sitting was only the first step.
“Hey, Chat.” Ladybug casually hugged her knees to her chest. “Think you can make your tail into the shape of a heart? Like you normally do?”
“Mruh?”He raised an eyebrow at her. Er, eyebrows. Moving just one was an advance technique.
“Don’t give me that look. We both know your leather tail goes into a heart shape when you’re in a lovey-dovey mood.” She waved her hands for emphasis.
Chat Noir did not know his tail did that. If he weren’t so incredibly in love with his Lady, he’d probably be mortified. In fact, knowing his feelings for her ran so deep that they affected his costume lit a proud little flame in his chest. Being an open book to all of Paris was a touch embarrassing, though. The troubles of wearing your heart on your sleeve.
Regardless, he swiveled to stare at his tail, willing it to move.
…nothing happened.
He tried to move it again.
….
Hm.
“It’s okay if you can’t.” Ladybug said, startling him out of focus. “I never really got a hang of moving my antennae. And I still have trouble comprehending how I got my wings to move.”
Huffing, he gave up, instead turning his attention to standing. His whole body felt a little crumpled from sitting; naturally, there was one solution.
“Woah, big stretch.” Ladybug muttered.
Chat’s head whipped towards her.
Ladybug’s head whipped away.
“You didn’t hear anything!”
His ear flicked in amusement. He could hear everything, actually, including the faint beating march of embarrassment going on in her chest.
It wasn’t like Adrien was any different, though. He was very apt at noting when Plagg did big stretches, and on rare occasions loafed.
…..
Chat suddenly shot off, running and stumbling and pivoting and crashing. Ladybug watched the black blur, impressed that he had so much energy after that god awful transformation.
Chat Noir skittered to a halt at her feet, flopping over and panting. She reached down and scritched his head, eliciting a rumble loud enough to register on the Richter scale.
“You can’t hide it now, kitty.” His Lady chuckled. “That’s a 100% bonafide purr.”
“Mruh.” He didn’t see her point. It was normal for cats to purr. It wasn’t normal for boys to purr.
“Oh, shii-oot! I almost forgot!” Her warm hand left him. An embarrassing whine left his throat at the lack of contact. “Hold your horses. Baby.”
From her yo-yo, she produced a round yellow bell.
…with a thin, long black leather strip attached.
“Myi Rayri????”
“Hey, don’t get your claws in a twist,” she spun the collar on her finger, “You’re just gonna wear it while I’m gone making the other potion. I don’t want you getting lost.”
Chat just gaped at her.
“And, ugh, maybe I made an impulse purchase when I saw it at PetSmart.” She admitted.
She shook her head. “But, regardless of whether or not we’re getting royalties out of brands using our likeness-“ he could hear the seething opinions writhing under her tone, “you’re wearing the collar. Guardian’s orders.”
Dutifully, he raised his chin-pupils blowing open and fur suddenly far too hot. He had dreamed of being hers, though not exactly like this. Her fingers fumbled on tightening it without any fingernails.
Once it was on proper, she straightened it and admired her handiwork. Chat looked down and raised a paw to his neck.
“Hey. Stop it.” She nabbed his paw. “I’m trusting you not to look at my phone number, okay?”
Ladybug’s contact information was on the collar?? Honestly, he was just trying to smack the bell.
A silence draped over them like a blanket.
She was carefully inspecting his paw- giving it light squeezes and watching his claws push out, gently flipping his paw to see how his arm turned, running her thumb over pitch black toe beans. Rarely did a cat have the manners to sit still while one held their foot; Chat was starting to understand why. It made his skin crawl in a way that had him itching to pull back, like he would fall over despite being stable.
“Hey… this is weird, and you can totally say no but…”
Her face bloomed red as she avoided looking at wide green eyes.
“You look really soft… and I kinda wanna. See how soft you are? But uh, the- the only place where I could actually feel it is my face, so uh….” She trailed off.
Chat would be lying if he said he didn’t want to know if he was soft. Plagg had his own velvet softness to him. Street cats tended to be a little rougher. Cats from the various cat cafes or pet stores Adrien snuck into could range from the softest thing in the world to slightly better than a mediocre blanket. Where he was in that range would be crucial to how many pets he would get. And he wanted so badly to be pet.
“Mya-ha.” Chat nodded, using her knee as a stepping stool and gently pawing at her face.
“Kitty.” She sputtered a laugh. “This isn’t working.”
Adrien squeaked as hands suddenly grabbed his chest and butt.
No longer was he Adrien Agreste. Not Chat Noir. Not human, not cat, not some amalgamation in between. No.
Right now. He was just a rag. Being rubbed against Ladybug’s cheek.
He wasn’t sure how to feel about the experience.
On one hand- he was so unbearably close to Ladybug, the love of his life. Every single newly heightened sense was full of her. He could hear her blood beating, how her breathe struggled just the slightest when his body crumpled her nose. He could see her pores, a freckle or two peeking out from her mask, bumps of acne. He could feel the warmth radiating off her, seeping into his fur. He could smell- by god could he smell. Sweet, but not overpowering, with faint hints of bread. If only his lungs could breathe in forever.
On the other hand- Chat Noir was so, so physically uncomfortable. Ladybug’s hand had grabbed his chest from below, meaning his arms were awkwardly spread and unusable. Her grip strength starting to hurt; an acute reminder that his Lady had superhero strength. Being rubbed back and forth like a rag meant his fur was repeatedly rubbed the wrong way before being unsatisfyingly put back. And the way her cheek put pressure on his torso, past his rib cage into jigglier, unprotected tummy? It was taking a physical toll on him to keep his claws in.
Overall? It balanced out to a net zero experience.
Once she got her fill, she unceremoniously dropped him on the ground. Their eyes caught each other, tiny bright green staring into huge deep blue. Suddenly Ladybug stood, face burning red enough to blur the line of her mask.
“Let’s- lets pretend that didn’t happen!” She paced away from him.
“Mya-hah.” He acquiesced, rolling onto his back. Sometimes random things made his Lady embarrassed; he had learned not to press.
“You are very soft, though.” She muttered.
It was the little victories.
Words from the street wormed their way into his attention, giving him a moment to rest, pondering what the correct order blankets were supposed to be in. Voice A was correct- the comforter should always go on the bottom.
Despite the riveting conversation below, his paws itched to play. Ladybug wasn’t paying attention to him right now, so…
With a butt wiggle, he pounced at her feet, clawlessly bapping at her ankles.
“Hey- what?” She stumbled at the surprise, nearly stepping on his tail.
“You little rat!” With fake rage, she tried to catch the squirmy black bullet. He barely managed to escape her grasp with each swoop, finding it was getting easier to control his cat body.
“Meh!” He attempted to leap onto her shoulders, where her pigtails would be in prime bapping range.
He failed miserably, hopping only high enough to bonk into her elbow and crash back down.
“BWAHAHA-“ Ladybug burst into laughter, collapsing on the ground, “YOU HAVE NO HOPS!”
“Weyyy!” He whined, pawing at her forehead. It wasn’t his fault jumping was so hard!
Huffing, he padded away from the giggling mess. The concrete was starting to hurt his soft paws.
“Gross.”
Chat turned his head around. Ladybug was on her back, staring at him.
“Mrrr?” He trilled, tilting his head.
They stayed still for a moment, Chat waiting for a response, Ladybug staring at his eyes. Or at least, he thought she was looking at his eyes.
Inexplicably, her face became as red as her mask.
“NOTHING!” She suddenly bolted upright, face turned toward everything but him. “Just remembered something gross! Not at all related to you suddenly being a cat!!”
Chat turned and sat, head still tilted in confusion.
“WELL-“ she cleared her throat. “I’m gonna go make your potion! Now!! Stay put!”
And she was gone.
Never a dull moment with Ladybug. Just another reason to love her.
Now that his Lady was gone, there was only so much time to complete his “I’m a kitty cat” to-do list.
1: Chase his own tail.
Could he do this as Chat Noir? Yes. Did he? Maybe. But doing it now meant nobody would judge him for it. The breathless experience of running in circles was unparalleled to anything human Chat could do.
2: Take a bath.
Licking his paw didn’t taste bad like he expected. It felt more like sticking your tongue out and feeling the hair above your lip. Except hairier.
3: Nap in a circle.
Time wasn’t a luxury he had, but at the very least he could curl up against the wind and pretend he was napping.
4: Do a little dance.
Ever since he watched Aristocats with Marinette, Adrien wanted so badly to see a cat do a little jig. If he was that cat, all the better. On the roof edge, he tried to walk with a bounce in his step.
Swip.
As Adrien plummeted off the building, a single thought bounced through his mind. Marinette was right. He could never be O’Malley.
He crash landed on a trash bag sitting atop a dumpster. Claws ripped the bag open as he struggled to get upright. In a mess of trash and jingling, he ended up on the floor of the alleyway.
Nothing felt injured- excluding his pride and his nose. If he was lucky and stayed right here, Ladybug wouldn’t be mad!
Who was he kidding. Ladybug would be absolutely livid with him. The only way to prevent her wrath was to get back up on the roof.
“Hip!” He tried to jump to the dumpster.
“Hyup!” He failed again.
“Hyi!” He wasn’t even reaching halfway.
Black swished in frustration. How did cats manage to jump so high?? It wasn’t fair, he was a cat too!!
Wails of a dramatic black cat echoed along the walls.
“Oh, you poor thing!” Footsteps echoed against the alley.
Chat swiveled, approached by a businesswoman in a tweed jacket and pants. He wasn’t expecting anyone to show up when he cried like a big baby. Maybe he should’ve- Nathalie tended to coincidentally check on him every time Adrien cried in his room.
“Your owner must be worried sick about you!” She reached for his collar, punching the number into her phone.
So much for Ladybug never finding out about his slip up.
With each ring of the phone, she gently pet the flat of his head. With each ring of the phone, another nail slammed into his coffin.
“Hi! I’m terribly sorry to bother you, but I found your cat in an alley.
….
Yes!
…..
She looks fine.
….
Give me just a moment to get the street.”
The warmth of the stranger’s hand lingered as she left.
Oh boy. Ladybug was gonna skin him. Maybe he could get a last wish: Ladybug’s new black cat rug be commissioned by Marinette Dupain-Cheng.
“I’m afraid I can’t stay and make sure she stays put,” the stranger reentered the alley, “but I’ll try my best.
….
Uh huh?
…..
She already ran away once, so I’m not as confident as you that she’ll stay. If I were a cat, I wouldn’t be out in the weather coming up.” She gasped. “Wait, the weather!! I’m so sorry, I have to go! Good luck getting your cat back!”
She hung up, suddenly frantically searching around the dumpsters. Adrien swiftly trotted up to her, hoping to get at least one more pet before she left.
“Aha! There!” A cardboard box just about his size was laid in front of him, the lady looking at him expectantly. “C’mon… be a good girl and get in the box…”
He wasn’t gonna throw a hissy fit about the misgendering happening, but he was gonna get in the box.
As soon as his little black butt was situated, the stranger shut the box, placing a weight on top of it.
“Sorry kitty, your owner will be here soon!” She called.
Chat wailed at her betrayal.
Then he sulked.
And shuffled.
The box had enough room at least.
It was dark.
It smelled bad.
The box fit him snuggly.
Shuffle.
Breathe in.
It’ll be over soon.
Breathe out.
The box was a little small.
Breathe in.
Smells bad.
Hot in here.
Stuffy.
Breathe in.
Ears hurt.
Breathe out.
The box was cramped.
Shuffle.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Shuffle.
Breathe in-
Breathe out.
Dark in here.
Breathe in-
Breathe out-
The box was getting smaller.
Scratch.
Bite.
Kick.
Scream.
Heart.
Race.
Can’t.
Breathe.
Kick.
Push.
Flail.
Wriggle.
Bite.
Cry.
Cataclysm.
Adrien passed out.
*——————*
That motherfucker.
It had hardly taken him 15 minutes before someone called her. 15 god damn minutes. She had plans after this! What the hell was he thinking! If she knew him, and she was certain she did, he had probably been doing something stupid like imitating Aristocats.
With a final swing, Ladybug splashed down into the alley. Her yo-yo got caught on something; for a few furious seconds she was yanking on the stiff wire until it came hurtling to hit her forehead.
“Chat Noir!” She pivoted her rage to the black cat lounging lazily among ash and garbage.
The cat shook his head, bell jingling with him.
“I know it’s you, asshole!” She pointed furiously. “Seriously, I ask you to stay put for just a little bit and you can’t even manage that-“
A low growl pierced her words.
“Chat?” Ladybug faltered, suddenly worried she did have the wrong cat. Her kitty wasn’t one who growled, that’s for sure.
Again the cat shook his head.
Tail swishing, the cat held up one paw, drawing a small circle in the air.
“…Plagg?”
He nodded, huffing.
“Oh… sorry? For yelling?” She cringed. Plagg certainly had more authority over Chat Noir than she did, so maybe it wasn’t her place to scold him.
No, actually. It totally was.
Plagg reared onto his hind legs and pawing at the base of his ears.
“Umm… you need to see Tikki?” She guessed.
On confirmation, she wormed her way into the corner and away from potential eyes. “Spots off.”
The magic fell and Tikki emerged, leaving Marinette Dupain-Cheng shoved away in a dumpster alley.
“Plagg? What’s the matter?” Tikki asked, snagging a cookie from her holder.
Oh god.
Marinette couldn’t focus for a second on whatever it was those two were doing. The dumpster closest to her sported a trash bag that was ripped open. Rotten stench took over all her senses, making her gag. How Plagg was managing being within 10 feet of it was beyond her.
Out she stepped from the corner, desperate for breathable air.
In she stepped into the sole puddle of the alley, drenching her untied shoelaces (which she didn’t tie in the rush to go save her god damn cat boy!!) in mystery trash fluid.
“Plagg.” She seethed, glaring daggers into the god of bad luck.
“Marinette, you know he can’t control it.” Tikki soothed.
It wasn’t fair. When Chat Noir drank the stupid potion, he got to be a cute little kitty while she got to experience the worst luck in the world. When she drank that bullshit potion, he got all of Tikki’s good luck and she got a sore back and too many legs.
“Mya, ch-ch-ch. Rrr.” Plagg started spitting out an array of noises, pawing at the ground and making shapes in the air.
“Hm.” Tikki nodded, turning to her holder. “He says Chat Noir was put into a box and passed out.”
“What the hell!” Marinette exploded. “I told that stranger not to put him in a box!! I know his ass is claustrophobic!”
Plagg huffed.
“Plagg says it doesn’t matter now.”
“Hold on,” something clicked in her brain. “Tikki, can you speak cat?”
“No, that’s silly!” The little god giggled. “Charades is a common pastime in the miracle box. Plagg and I speak many languages, too, so he’s mix-matching a lot of words that he can make.”
Marinette frowned. “Tikki, if you know so many languages, why don’t you help me learn mandarin?”
A giant, guilty smile plastered on the kwami’s face.
“KIH!” Plagg spat, grabbing their attention.
“Patience!” Tikki chided him.
The air filled with vowels and chitters and beats.
Marinette shifted her weight- but shifted a little too much and ended up wobbling balance on one leg. Her phone fell out of her unzipped backpack.
Angrily, she snatched it back up as Tikki spoke.
“He’s upset with Chat for breaking the rules you both set out for him.”
“Mowwww…” Plagg growled.
“I’m not repeating what you said!” She huffed.
“Fucking hell, Chat.” The girl facepalmed. “He never learns! The second I tell him not to do something he does it the second my back is turned! Curiosity will kill the fucking Chat! Ooh, I’d teach him a lesson if I could! Fuckin dumbass- OW!” She reeled from the sudden claws on her hand.
“What the hell!!”
Right where she had been standing, a glop of pigeon shit hit the ground. Plagg kept talking like nothing happened.
“Oh, hm.” Tikki nodded. “Wait, ‘ao’ or ‘ow?’”
“Plagg is suggesting that you do teach Chat a lesson. By… keeping him a cat?” The two halves of Ladybug blinked at each other. “So he learns not to… ahem, mess around.”
It was quite the proposition- she could finally get back at Chat for all those times he’d done something stupid- licking cold metal, drawing faces on Adrien posters, always bringing up the damn pretzel, knocking empty pots off of buildings.
Chat Noir was her best friend, but he could just get so irritating at times.
“I can keep him a cat.” She finally nodded. “For a little longer.”
“But you have to stay by him at all times.” Tikki warned before Plagg could get in another peep. “We don’t want Chat and Plagg to become like Labeii.”
“That could work…” plans formulated and built in her mind. If Marinette was the one watching him, then she could treat him like a tiny little idiot and pretend she didn’t know it was Chat! And it wasn’t like she was being reckless if she was constantly making sure he was okay. Er, maybe following the suggestions of the god of destruction was reckless and she shouldn’t…
“Mao.” Plagg flopped over.
“Plagg’s tired. Chat will wake back up in… 5? Or so minutes.”
“Shit!” She panicked. “Okay, okay. I know what to do.”