Chapter Text
For fifteen years of her life, she’d been numb.
It wasn’t a bad life by any means – but it had been muted. Parts of her hadn’t been right, had never been right. Missing, she would have said, if she could ever put a finger on the feeling. But you can’t miss what you don’t even know exists.
You can’t know you aren’t whole, haven’t been whole in a long time, before you are.
Until one day, when she was closer to sixteen than fifteen, she opened a box and became whole once more.
***
In a different part of the city than her, he opened a box too, and everything fell into place.
***
“-can’t believe I’m saying this, but this stone monster is attacking the streets of Paris!” Nadja yelled into her microphone. Then, “I’m advising everyone to seek shelter until the situat-”
Jean, her cameraman saw the giant fist coming their way. He couldn’t get out more of a strangled gasp to warn her, before they were both knocked to the side.
“Woah there, buddy!” A new figure called, stepping between the stone monstrosity and the reporting duo. “Far be it from me to be mad about destruction for destruction’s sake, but manslaughter is pushing it a bit.”
The giant stone monster roared, its yellow eyes focusing on the figure in black. The size difference between the two was enormous, and yet, the man didn’t tremble in fear. Instead, he calmly leaned on a walking stick of sorts, as if he were talking to a friendly acquaintance, as opposed to a towering monstrosity.
Nadja, still numbly sitting on the ground to where she was pushed, reached out to direct the camera towards the monster and the man in the costume talking to it.
“...you’re seeing this too, right?” she whispered to her colleague.
Jean nodded. This was very far from what he signed up for, when he applied to be Nadja’s on-field cameraman, but damn if they weren’t a good team. He knew how to get a good shot and he was going to do his job even if it killed him.
(He refused to contemplate the fact that doing his job literally almost got him killed less than a minute ago.)
Nadja nodded too, mostly to herself, and grabbed tighter onto her microphone that still seemed to be functioning despite the fall. She stood swiftly, and dusted off her clothes.
Jean and his camera followed with quiet professionalism.
It seemed the man and the monster had stopped conversing – if the one sided jabs and the roaring could be called a conversation –, because the monster was back to swishing its fists towards them again.
“Rude,” the man said, clicking his tongue. He didn’t even try to run.
He raised the stick he was leaning on, somehow expanding it and spun it with both hands so fast, it smacked away the stone giant’s fists.
The giant clearly didn’t like this, as it roared and tried again.
“I could do this all day, you know!”
“...it seems a new player has appeared on the scene,” Nadja began to narrate. Her eyes stuck to the man, who still had his back to them; with every spin, his skin-tight clothes rippled as his muscles worked, and yet, the spinning never tired. “Could it be that Paris is not only seeing a monster, but a valiant hero has shown up to take care of the threat on the very same day?”
The man snorted then.
It was barely a second, and yet, enough to allow a break in his concentration. One of the stone monster’s fists punched through his spins and the man went flying.
Nadja, Jean, and the camera all watched as he arched through the air like a cartoon character.
He landed with a loud smack across the pavement.
Nadja and Jean exchanged a look.
The monster roared, and spun to find its previous prey. Its yellow eyes quickly found the boy, who was stupid enough to keep cowering nearby.
Unseen by the people, a glowing purple mask appeared around its face. The giant rumbled, unable to form words, and was granted permission to pursue its prey – for now. The butterfly wanted both, after all, and the ladybug hasn’t shown its face yet.
The stone monster could always come back for the cat later.
Meanwhile, Nadja and Jean came to the silent conclusion that they should check on their savior, but avoid showing him on camera, in case he had any visible injuries… Or worse.
Nadja led the charge, as usual, and her eyes darted back to the giant for a moment. “It’s leaving,” she hissed to Jean.
Jean shrugged. (The motion hurt. Probably from being thrown to the ground earlier – not that being thrown around was worse than being squished to death by a giant stone fist. Again, Jean would freak out about this later, probably in the company of a bottle of the first alcohol he came across.) This shrug conveyed how much he didn’t know what that meant, but that it was much easier for the two of them not to be a target of the giant’s once more.
Nadja huffed, but didn’t say anything; they reached the man lying in a heap on the ground.
A groaning heap. He was alive.
(For now.)
Nadja leaned over him, trying to find any traces of injury – but the black leather seemed flawless. Maybe he has inner bleeding, Nadja’s mind suggested unhelpfully.
“Are you alright, monsieur?” She asked, even though the question didn’t seem to be relevant. Who would be okay after being smacked around like that?
“Just a few secs,” came the hushed reply. His eyes were still screwed together. “The suit absorbs less than I remember.”
Suit, Nadja noted, was what he called his outfit. She allowed her eyes to roam over the look, and allowed herself to take in the-
Bell?
She blinked. She didn’t hit her head, she didn’t think, but to have the leather suit accompanied by that bell-
…he had cat ears.
The man who saved her and Jean had cat ears and a bell.
And, as he slowly opened his eyes, experimentally at first, she could make out slits instead of normal pupils.
Nadja breathed in, then breathed out. She sneaked a glance towards Jean.
Jean nodded heavily. A catboy. Man. They were dealing with a catboy-man. A catman.
After the stone giant, it honestly shouldn’t have felt like such a stretch of the imagination.
(It still was.)
The catman groaned as he slowly rotated his neck and the rest of his limbs. He didn’t exactly move as if he was in big pain – well, he did, but not as someone who had any need for a couple dozen surgeries, but rather like someone in need of a warm bath and lots of bedrest. His face, covered by a black mask, wasn’t even an unnatural color, as best as Jean could tell. Sure, he was pale, but that seemed in-line with the rest of his skin tone.
A superhero catboy-man, then, Jean decided, and slowly lifted the camera back onto his shoulders. Knowing his partner, Nadja would snap back into reporter mode soon.
She didn’t disappoint.
“The people of Paris need to know,” she began passionately, “who are you to have shown up in our hour of need? Is saving myself and my colleague just the beginning, are you the hero sent to save us all?”
With that, she stuck the microphone under his nose.
The catman raised an eyebrow and leaned away from the microphone. “Is that what you think I am?” He asked, amusement audible in his tone. “A hero?”
“You saved us,” Nadja argued, snapping her microphone back only for a few beats. “When that monster tried to hurt us, you stepped in to save us civilians. That is what a hero, a superhero does.” She took a moment to consider, before firing a new question. “Can Paris hope to rely on you in the future, monsieur…?”
He tilted his head to the side. “...Chat Noir. Call me Chat Noir.” He smirked. “It has a dramatic flair, but keeps things simple, no?” He stood, and Nadja’s microphone and Jean’s camera followed his movement. From his back, he pulled out a small baton, which expanded to the size he used previously – a weapon of his choice, perhaps? “And as for the rest… We’ll see.”
His eyes flickered over to the rooftops where a blur of red was quickly moving, right in the direction the monster disappeared in.
Chat Noir locked eyes with Nadja, Jean and the camera, and threw up a two-fingered salute. “Cat-ch you later.”
Without waiting for a response, his baton extended and he jumped, leaping for the rooftops. The camera followed him, until he disappeared from sight, Nadja yelling questions that he didn’t stop to answer.
Jean finally turned the lenses back on her, and Nadja took a deep breath, steadying her ruffled feathers. She beamed at the camera. “You’ve heard it here first, Paris – where the police and the special forces fail to counter a supernatural foe, we might just discover a new hero: Chat Noir!”
***
“...is that a freaking yoyo?”
She turned on her heel so fast, her hair smacked her in the face. “You,” she hissed.
He leaned on a baton, posture false-relaxed. “Bug,” he greeted. “How nice to run into you again in Paris of all places.”
She wanted to tug at his ears until he was yowling in pain. Instead, she continued glaring. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t punt you into the Seine right now, Cat.”
“It’s Chat Noir now, actually,” he said, not answering her as he was wont to do. He eyed her, still far enough away from her to consider himself to be in a safe distance. She wondered if his baton hid a sword, or if it was just a very heavy piece of metal. “Your outfit isn’t very inspired this go around. Is everything okay, Bug?”
She couldn’t help snorting. “Says you. Tell me you are trying too hard to be cool without telling me?” She gestured at him. “No one wears this much leather.” Her eyes got caught on his throat and she chortled. “And is that a fucking bell?!”
His eyebrows knotted and one of his hands came up to his throat… He groaned in defeat. “Plaaaaagg!” He looked aside darkly. “It wasn’t my fault I couldn’t immediately find the good camembert.”
She smirked at him. “Tikki and I are getting along fabulously,” she boasted.
He gave her a look. “Is that why you got saddled with the most boring outfit since the creation of superheroes?”
“Oh, fuck off,” she huffed, gripping her yoyo tighter. “This is just a trial run. I didn’t want to get any of your blood on one of her better designs.”
His tail gave a twitch, but otherwise he didn’t move. “How are you going to manage that with a yoyo?” He wondered, either truly fascinated or stalling. “I could get how you’d strangle me with that, but where does the blood part come in?”
“We could test whether kitties still land on their feet when tied up,” she offered sweetly.
As expected, this had him flinching.
“Or,” she began, the words already leaving a sour taste in her mouth, “we could try something different this time around.”
His cat-like pupils widened, before narrowing back to slits. His smile came languidly. “You took the Guardian’s wishes seriously?” You, he didn't specify.
She ignored the underlying jab. “The butterfly is in the wrong hands,” she said.
He waved it off. “I’ve fought beside a butterfly before; it’s no big deal.”
She stored that information away, even as she pretended that he didn’t speak, “If you prove I can trust you with others’ safety, we can work together to retrieve it.”
“And after?” He didn’t take a single step towards her. His eyes were narrowed, and his ears were fully turned in her direction.
“I will get back at you for the last time, of course.” She smiled, full teeth. He chuckled, leaning ahead on his baton playfully.
“You know that was just payback for you poisoning me?” Despite his words, his smile came out earnestly. “A truce, then.”
“If you can prove yourself,” she stressed. Time was ticking, and they were sitting ducks for way too long. She could hear the giant rummaging around the city with every second they wasted.
He stretched, raising his baton behind his back. “You know I never back down from a challenge.”
She shot him an amused look; one daring him to go ahead and try.
After all the years together, she knew the best way to motivate him, after all.
***
Alya was pedaling after the stone giant like crazy, phone at the ready and recording – she’d fallen behind for a bit, but was able to catch up after the giant stopped to quarrel with a boy in a black costume. She didn’t really get a good look, being too late to the scene, but that was a real life superhero! It had to be! And she was going to get footage of the fight if it killed her!
She skidded to a stop near the stadium that had a massive hole smashed into it. She heard the noises of the fight before she stepped in; but avoiding most of the debris, she made a beeline for the side, where an audience would usually sit and watch football or the like.
She positioned her camera to take in the stone giant – it really needed a cooler name to fit the villain aesthetics better – and the two figures fighting it. It looked to be a tricky thing, because every time the giant was hit too hard, it grew in size – not that she noticed.
Alya was busy squealing. Two heroes! It wasn’t just the black costumed superhero; there was another one in red!
She zoomed in as best as she could – and yes, that was a second hero! One with black spots on their costume. Polka dots, Alya would have called it, if she knew that word. So they weren’t color-coded heroes, she considered, while watching the fight. She kept a running commentary out loud too, mostly about their moves, and the names she guessed the two could have – all superheroes had a cool name, of course!
And every superhero needed a reliable journalist to document their fights. Alya would be just that!
With growing excitement, she realized that the fight was heading her way. With a little straining of the ears, she could make out a conversation between the heroes.
“-still don’t get the yoyo!”
“It’s pacifistic!”
The black hero stopped blocking with his weapon to laugh. “You? A pacifist?”
“Pay attention!” The hero in red yelled, snapping him away with her… yoyo, Alya noted excitedly. And they were working together! A superhero duo or a hero and their sidekick?
“I have no idea which one of them could be a sidekick,” Alya muttered to her camera, and the ongoing stream which had a view count in the high thousands and growing by the second. “So probably, partners?”
She was more than happy to just watch them battle the stone giant and evade its gigantic fists, but even she could tell this wouldn’t work forever. Just as Alya was about to remark on this, the spotted hero let out a loud noise of frustration. “I’ve had enough!”
She gathered her yoyo back, and threw it to the sky. “Lucky Charm!”
Alya forgot to breathe. “They have magic attacks?!”
They did. Alya was starting to feel like she had a heartburn from excitement.
And then the heroes went to her for help and the day got even better.
***
“Call me Ladybug,” the spotted heroine said into the shaky camera, an arm around the boy who was transformed into the stone giant.
“How original,” could be heard vaguely in the background. Ladybug’s face tightened for a second, before she brightened.
“And this stray here is Chat Noir! Any problems you have, he’ll help you with it; babysitting, taking the dog out for a walk-”
“Ha, ha,” the hero in black leather held up his hands. “Pettiness is a bad look on you, Bug.”
“You haven’t seen me be petty yet!” She replied cheerfully. There was a faint beeping sound, and she palmed one of her ears.
“Alas, we have to take our leave,” Chat Noir said, bowing. He winked as he straightened. “Until next time, Paris!”
The two heroes practically flew away with their weapons, the shaky camera following them. The boy who was a monster remained, as well as the other one he lumped around, and the camera turned to focus on a way too excited girl, who started yapping immediately about the heroes-
He froze the video.
“What were the chances,” he muttered darkly, and yet, with a smile. The two miraculous that he wanted, active and back in action mere minutes after he sent out his first akuma. As if the universe itself was trying to aid him.
He closed his eyes, one hand on his brooch. He could still feel his akuma, as it fluttered its wings while flying over the streets of Paris. Watching. Waiting.
And with a little effort…
Multiplying.
***
baguette_gimme_strength
fresh from paris!!! managed to freeze the pics sorry for the quality lol
[id: a giant figure made of stone towering over a small red blur and a black one]
[id: a girl in a red, spotted mask grinning into the camera, as a cat-eared boy rolls his eyes behind her]
…
aliciaisthenamelesbianisthegame
look at tv sometime they got catboys face from up close
baguette_gimme_strength
omg they did!!! he looks so handsome wht??
jottoneyedyo
has french finally discovered cosplayers? shitty creativity btw
baguette_gimme_strength
learn how to english bruh lol
lil-miss-perfect
I just wanna adopt him Your Honor
[id: a black masked man with cat ears salutes at the camera]
just.keep.swimming.
i want shared custody jazz
lil-miss-perfect
FUCK OFF HE’S MINE
proposal-gone-wrong
So, storytime: I took my girlfriend to Paris this week, because it’s always been her dream to be proposed to in the city of love… We were walking down the streets, trying to avoid the tourists when this butterfly starts approaching? And my girlfriend is like a disney princess, so of course she lets it land on her finger – and now the butterfly turned her into a stone golem. Help???
dan_the_man
lol so fake
mads-for-hire
How did the mods even let this post up?
koolaid
my cousin lives in paris and she said its a genuine concern people really do be turnin into monsters
local-h(b)ic
honey they are not monsters they are just french
amy_delarossa
im WHEEZING
***
“I haven’t worked with a butterfly before,” Marinette said, as she sat on her bed, a plate of cookies in front of her for Tikki to munch on. “What are they like?”
Tikki’s tiny mouth was full with chocolate chip cookies. She hummed. “Oh?” She put down a half-eaten cookie that was almost as big as her head. “Well, Nooro, the butterfly kwami is the avatar of emotion. Their holders usually gain a power to feel the emotions of others and enhance those emotions to turn them into champions who fight for or with them. A sort of chrysalis, I think.” Marinette nodded. Yeah, that made sense.
“So there is a chance that the butterfly holder won’t appear?” she asked, while grabbing a macaron to munch on herself. “That we have to seek them out to get Nooro back?”
“...yes. Sorry, Marinette.” Tikki winced.
She shrugged. “At least we’re not in a war this time,” she tried, smiling at her oldest friend.
“You still always have it worse than my other ladybugs,” Tikki murmured sadly, staring at her half-eaten cookie. “I’m supposed to be an avatar of good luck, and yet…”
“Hey,” Marinette lifted Tikki’s little chin with a finger, smiling gently. “I love our team. And even if I could ‘choose’” she wiggled her fingers, causing her kwami to giggle, “an easier path, I wouldn’t take it. You know me.”
Tikki nodded gravely. “You like the complicated ones.” She hid her smirk behind her cookie. “Like your black cat.”
“Oh, shush,” Marinette snapped, but there was a smile in her voice. “At least in this day and age it’s less likely that we will kill each other.”
“Just less?”
Marinette leaned back into her pillows. “Knowing him, he probably already has an idea or two to counter me.” She grinned, a spark igniting in her eyes. “How fortunate that I am the queen of convoluted plans.”
***
“...really, kid?”
Adrien scrolled through the news on his phone. Every site worth its money was screaming about the new superhero duo and the very first supervillain they faced. He was glad he thought to introduce himself; some of the articles that came out earlier had their own nicknames for both him and his Bug and each was less flattering than the next.
“She’s gonna hate you for this,” Plagg continued, even as he went back to eating his gigantic block of camembert. “Even more than the whole fire thing.”
Adrien hummed. “She said she’d be testing me,” he said, not looking up. The photos were all blurry, but he didn’t yet give up on trying to find one with a close-up on her current looks. “Isn’t it only fair that I test her back?”
“You know you can be a good team if you work together,” Plagg pointed out.
Adrien let his phone fall on his chest. He tilted his head to give his kwami a stare. “Plagg,” he called, deadpan. “We killed each other multiple times.” He held up a hand. “The last time we ‘worked together’, I literally stabbed her in the back and she threw me off a cliff.”
“You deserved that one,” Plagg said pointedly. He was murmuring darkly. “My kittens should be smarter than to start a fight on the edge of a cliff…”
“I didn’t exactly think that one through,” Adrien had to admit. He propped himself up on his elbows, before sitting up. “Still. These last few times we were fighting and… I don’t think she wants to try being friends again.” He stared at his shoes, which were orange. (Who even made orange shoes? Never in his previous lives would he have been caught dead wearing orange of all colors.)
“...you did have her burned at the stake,” Plagg agreed, his cheese now gone and consumed. He burped. “That was on you, kiddo.”
“I didn’t think they’d go that far!”
He breathed in, then out, the shout echoing in the enormous room.
“...I think I’m gonna switch to a vegetarian diet,” Adrien decided. “For… a while.”
(If he let himself think long enough, he could still smell it. Still hear the crackle of fire, misleadingly similar to the way a warm fireplace crackles.
Never her screams, she refused to scream. Not in front of an audience, not in front of him.
He was very glad modern houses didn’t warm themselves by fire.
He wasn’t going to let himself think too hard on it anyways.)
“Besides, why should I tell her about the butterfly?” He asked sourly, eyes moving to the new incoming notifications on his phone. “She’s gonna find out soon enough.”
***
Halfway across the city, Sabine was putting the finishing touches on a cake order. A decorative flower here, an edible bow there and-
“I WILL MURDER THAT BASTARD WITH MY OWN TWO HANDS!”
It was thanks to the years of routine that she didn’t accidentally squish the whole cake to bits. She heard Tom break something in the other room, and she could imagine that he had the same wide-eyed stare she was sporting.
…was that really their Marinette?
Sabine would have to reconsider letting her play all those video games. Clearly, her daughter was getting too competitive for her own good.