#cat-erwauling | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

actualbird · 3 years

Note

Now that you've gone over how you think all the boys would be as cats (because thats the most important thing here) will you PLEASE go back through how they became cats, the ensuing panic/mania, and the plot point of mc now having 4 cats in her apartment and having to figure out how to un-cat-ify them all (and take care of them in the meantime) I am begging you... not all at once tho I have a feeling that it's gonna be way too long

OKAY SO how the NXX Cat-ification Bonanza happens is because of

it's just a

it's a normal thing yknow

an au where turning into a cat is normal

this au exists, it's a thing, trust me, look theres even an ao3 tag for it

according to the er, progenitor of this au, this au is basically the canon universe but "every human on earth turns into a cat for a month at a random point in their lives and it's just an accepted thing." cool awesome this is exactly what i need

moving on

so with this au in mind the ensuing panic is a little bit subdued it's less of "holy shit we're cats" and more of "uuugh it's Cat Time, i guess," and the thing that causes actual panic is that. all the nxx boys, for some frigging reason, get hit with Cat Time on like

the same frigging day

the nxx investigation team, all of them, are pulling an all nighter for one of their cases and mc is like "guys, im gonna take a nap for an hour" and the boys are like yes go rest pls and so she does she takes a nap and when she wakes up and goes back to the meeting room

theyre all cats. it's Cat Time. for all of them. all at once.

what are the fucking chances.

mc takes them all home because she knows luke and artem and vyn live alone and have nobody to help them out during Cat Time and marius (who lives in a mansion with many people who can help him) is like WAIT NO IF THEYRE GOING WITH U I WANNA GO TOO DONT LEAVE ME AAAAAAAAA just frigging cat-erwauling until mc is like oh my god okay fiiiiiiine

so now she has 4 cats in her apartment!!! and in this au the boys retain their human minds so theyre like, behaved and stuff. the only thing is that some instincts are Heightened, like emotions and senses but most especially the desire for physical touch, which is why my original post on this au is Like That.

with this convenient au in place bc itll be over naturally, mc doesnt have to figure anything out anymore, she just kind of has to deal with 4 cats that are actually 4 men in love with her.

each of them, in their own way, makes her blood pressure rise.

vyn and marius are constantly battling for her attention and end up in (started by marius, mostly) catfights that she has to break up. vyn pretends it never happened when it's over and marius is just constantly trying to knock things off tables at the exact moment vyn is under them so that he can get knocked in the head.

artem is the world's sulkiest cat and he worries mc a lot, like shes pretty sure that artem doesnt know that, in this form, every time he has a Feeling, he starts warbling. artem cant repress in this form. it's painful for everybody involved.

and once luke gets over the fact that he, for now, wants to eat his own pet bird, he acts more like a DOG than a cat kajsbfkajskfa. awake at 5:30am on the dot swishing his tail back and forth waiting for mc to wake up because aHA HES GONNA BE FIRST TO GREET HER WITH A MEOW!! BEAT THAT, EVERYBODY!!!

it's a very long month for mc KJBKJSDGD

#tears of themis #luke pearce #artem wing #marius von hagen #vyn richter #hc

103 notes · View notes

asongeverlasting · 4 years

Text

Happy Holidays @adrienettes-hamster!! I was your backup gifter for @mlsecretsanta this year! I hope you enjoy this platonic Ladynoir bonding :)

Many thanks to @strangerahne for beta-reading!

Laughing in the Starlight

read on AO3

Marinete had known this was a bad idea the first time he suggested it, but that meant nothing. Even with all the luck in the world, she could never hold out against his kitty eyes and impassioned pleas for very long. One would think she'd have some sort of immunity, after babysitting Manon for so long, but no dice. It was almost as if his kitty eyes were magically augmented or something. No ordinary human should be able to expand their pupils that wide. It was just ridiculous. (Utterly ridiculous, her internal monologue supplied unhelpfully.)

And really, it was just a game of Truth or Dare. As Chat Noir helpfully pointed out the third time he tried persuading her to play, if she was really worried about secret identity things, nothing was stopping her from just choosing dare every time. Eventually, after two weeks straight of him bugging her during patrol, she gave in. Sort of.

Her acquiescence was accompanied by a number of ground rules designed to safeguard their identities and avoid injuries (practically a necessity when pitting two teenage superheroes against each other in a game designed to embarrass). She also added three vetoes apiece, just in case. Going into the game, Ladybug felt confident that she was prepared for anything, because her rules accounted for every possible awkward situation — and they would have, were her opponent anyone but Chat. Right now, sitting on an isolated rooftop three rounds into the game, she knew she'd made a mistake. Nothing could have prepared her for what he was throwing her way.

“Okay, so, imagine you were suddenly turned into a peach pit that was inside of a ripe peach and on a tree, and then the peach fell off the tree, sprouted, and you grew out of it back to the body you were before turning into the peach pit. Then imagine all this happened in the span of twenty minutes. What would be the first thing you did after all this happened?"

Her brain refused to compute. “Sorry, what?”

Chat just smiled earnestly at her, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Did- did someone turn me into the peach pit?” she stammered, totally taken aback.

“Take it however you want, I just want an answer to my question.” Chat seemed shockingly normal for someone who had just spouted the most ridiculously out-there question she'd ever heard. Did these sorts of thoughts just exist in his brain?

How did one even begin to handle such a situation? But then again, stranger akumas had happened. “I guess I’d… first try to figure out how I’d been turned into a peach in the first place—“

“Peach pit, you mean,” he prompted, leaning forward.

“Yeah, that.” She rolled her eyes. “I’d probably also grab another peach off the tree to use as a weapon if I needed it. Oh wait, are the other peaches also people?”

His grin grew even wider before he responded. “That’s for me to know and you to never find out”

She shot him a frosty glare and responded, deadpan, “Horrible.”

“So….. what would you do?” he asked, genuinely curious now.

“Hmm. Probably... pull a peach off the tree so I have something to throw, look for the culprit - which was probably an akuma, honestly - and if I find no one, then get to high ground and keep looking. Oh, and before I leave, toss the peach at you like so.” She picked up a small pebble from the rooftop beside her and threw it at Chat, who yelped and turned away.

“Hey, what was that for?" Chat pouted.

Ladybug winked. "That's for me to know and you to never find out."

"Ah-hah-hah I see what you did there," he said, shooting finger guns at her. "Very clever. Now, I believe it's your turn again, Milady. I hope you come up with something interesting." He quirked a brow in challenge.

"Alright Kitty-Cat, truth..." She paused dramatically. "Or dare?"

"Dare, if you please."

"Hmm…" she mused, glancing around for inspiration. An idea came when her eyes landed on a house with two chimneys, about eight feet apart from one another. "Oh! Okay, I got it. Stick your baton between those two chimneys over there, grab it, then swing and flip yourself onto it, landing on your feet. Dramatic dismount for bonus points."

The spark of excitement in Chat's eyes had grown with every word she spoke. As soon as she finished laying down the challenge, he leapt up gracefully and bounded over to the designated rooftop, Ladybug following close behind.

Unsurprisingly, he executed the sequence perfectly, swinging around his baton like a gymnast on the uneven bars before landing on it, striking a pose, and backflipping off, all with the grace of a jungle cat.

She applauded as he put his baton away and sauntered over to where she now sat.

He gave a courtly bow before sitting down opposite her. "Only the best for the lady! My turn now, so choose your poison."

"Umm… I think I'll mix it up a bit with a dare."

"Okay, I dare you to…" Chat began slowly, "pick up the pointiest rock you can find, show it to me for approval, and then hold it in one of your armpits for the next two questions. Oh, and if you drop it at any point, the question count resets."

Ladybug shot him a dirty look before searching around for an appropriate rock. She picked up two, showed them both to Chat for inspection, and then unceremoniously stuck the chosen one under her left arm, taking care not to press too tight. "My turn now. Pick."

"Sheesh, someone's prickly! Something jabbing at you?" Chat snickered at the growl she let loose when his pun registered. "Truth! I pick truth."

She thought for a minute before speaking. "You claim that you're just a human with weird cat traits instead of the cat I'm convinced you are. Now, if I were right and you were an actual cat, what weirdly human trait would you have?"

Chat furrowed his brow in contemplation. "There's so many options to choose from! If I had to pick one… I'd probably make human sounds, either so my meows would sound like a real person making them, or so I'd scare the real humans in the house by saying 'hewwo' or something"

"An agent of chaos! Now, that sounds just like you. And I know better than anyone how much you hate not making human sounds," she chuckled.

He tried to mock pout, but couldn't hide his smile. "Okay, okay, my turn again. Truth or dare?"

"Ugh, I don't want to move with this thing under my arm. Truth."

With a soft laugh, Chat responded, "Well, now I know how to get you to answer my questions! Okay, okay, don't hurt me!" he exclaimed, raising a placating hand when he saw her glare turn threatening. "My question for you is… what name would you want to have, if your name wasn't what it is? And don't say this is against the rules, you could even give me your real name and I'd have no idea, so there's no way I can use this to ferret out your secret identity."

"Uhh…" She tilted her head to one side as she considered her options. "I'm not sure… maybe Celeste, or Isabelle? Or… Oh! I've always been partial to the name Bridgette, so I'd probably pick that."

"Bridgette, huh? I bet you'd have gotten along with one of my good friends. She's incredibly sweet and caring, like you. And her name sort of rhymes with your fake one! And she—" he cut his speech short, noticing that he was heading off on a tangent. "Anyway, spoilers aside, she's pretty great."

"Seems like Kitty might have a crush, hmmm? I hope this girl is worth your affections," teased Ladybug. "Must be something special if she's caught the eye of the great Chat Noir."

"Oh no, no crush! I only have eyes for you! I mean really, for yonder Tour Eiffel is the east, and you are my sun. This girl is… just a very good friend." The look on her face made it seem like she was intent on pursuing this line of teasing, so he hurriedly went on. "Also, I pick dare, and your rock dare is finished. You can drop the pebble now."

"Very smooth, Kitty," she said sarcastically, releasing the stone, "but moving onto the next turn might not save you. I can still dare you to answer a truthful question, don't you forget."

Chat's eyes widened briefly in shock before his expression morphed into his patented kitty pout — peeking out from beneath his lashes, pupils blown wide and shining, lower lip stuck out and quivering, head tilted to the side just so. "You wouldn't do that to me, would you? That would be so mean!"

She narrowed her eyes and met his pleading gaze with a stony stare of her own for a few moments, but then broke away with an exasperated sigh. "Fine, I'll play nice. But one of these days I'm gonna figure out how to defeat your pout, and then you'll be in for some serious trouble," she warned, waggling a finger at him. "Okay, your dare is to… sing about a minute of a song, but replace every fifth word with the word croissant. And I have to approve your choice before you start singing! Also, if you start laughing, you have to start again. Think you can handle it?"

"I'm all over it! Just give me a minute to think up the perfect tune to serenade you with!" he proclaimed confidently.

"No problem, just as long as there's no cat-erwauling," she said with a smirk.

He froze. "Wait, was that a pun?"

She looked at him, a sly smile playing at the corners of her lips, but did not reply.

"Not gonna admit it, huh? That's fine. I think I have just the song for you. Go ahead and stop me if you don't approve." He stood and bowed like a maestro walking onstage for a piano recital. "Now, just sit back, relax, and enjoy the show, milady."

With that, he began humming and plucking at an imaginary… cello? Bass? Some sort of large string instrument. He opened his mouth, and sang (in a surprisingly smooth tenor), "I've got a gal croissant always late, any time croissant got a date. But I croissant her, I've gotta ask her, croissant you is or is croissant ain't my babyy?" His voice wavered with suppressed laughter by the third croissant, but he pressed on, counting out words on his fingers as he mimed plucking the strings. Ladybug had no such luck holding back her giggles and had to bite down on her own hand to smother some of the noise. "Maybe baby's croissant somebody new... or is my croissant still my baby truuuue?"

Chat finished the chorus with a flourish on his imaginary instrument before promptly dissolving into peals of laughter and plopping down in a heap next to his partner. They both just sat there chuckling for a while, trying very hard not to look at each other — for every time they calmed down slightly and their eyes met, they burst into laughter and had to start the process all over again. Eventually, they managed to regain control of themselves and quiet down. Tired now, they laid down on their backs, heads beside one another, feet stretched in opposite directions, and looked up at the few stars visible in Paris's night sky. For several minutes, neither of them made a sound.

"Wow," Ladybug breathed, breaking the silence, "what a view. I could just lay here all night."

Chat hummed in agreement. After a few moments, he shifted and turned his head slightly so he could see her profile. "Hey Ladybug," he said softly. She turned to look at him. "Truth or dare?"

She smiled. "Truth," she answered, just as softly.

"If you were playing Max's akuma game, but with Disney/Pixar characters, and the computer chose Hawkmoth, which character would you pit against him?" When she didn't speak for a few moments, he continued, "Take your time, it's a very important decision."

Ladybug pondered her options for a minute or two, weighing the pros and cons of various animated characters. All of a sudden, inspiration struck, and she let out a quiet giggle at her stroke of genius. "Oh, I have the perfect idea: the Pixar lamp." And she turned to him expectantly, amusement and pride evident in her expression.

Forehead wrinkled in confusion, he said, "I don't get it. Explain?"

She propped herself up on an elbow so she could see him better. "Okay, um… look at it this way. He calls himself Hawkmoth, which is a species of moth, right?"

He nodded.

She went on, "And moths are attracted to light and heat, to the point that they sometimes act drunk around things like lightbulbs and small flames."

Another nod.

"Plus, take into account the fact that you and I have some traits from our namesakes — you purr and I snack on flowers."

A rueful chuckle accompanied the next nod.

"So, it makes sense that Hawkmoth might be attracted to lamps. But then, the coup de graçe: do you remember what the Pixar lamp does?"

"It… hops?" Comprehension dawned. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "I get it." He started to laugh again, softly at first, then louder.

Ladybug laughed along with him, trying to speak through her mirth. "So... hahaha... I'm just imagining *snort* Hawkmoth... heeheehee... trying to chase the lamp around, while this… sentient lamp... *giggle*… just keeps trying to bonk him and jump on his head!" She pressed a hand to her stomach, laughing until it was difficult to breathe. "We wouldn't even be needed anymore!"

At this, Chat laughed so hard that his voice was no longer audible, and he just lay there, shaking and gasping for air. Finally, he caught his breath enough to gesture wildly and choke out, "Milady, you're a genius! Hawkmoth would totally just be running around like… *snicker*… 'LAMPY! Let me love you!' and the lamp would be like *BONK* and then… bahaha… they'd be together forever! *snort* Honestly, this is more of a ship than a fight!" His arms dropped back to his stomach as he fell into another fit of laughter.

The two of them laughed and laughed until their stomachs ached and tears streamed from their eyes, and the sounds of their voices echoed across the Parisian skyline. When they'd nearly laughed themselves hoarse, a sense of peace stole over them, and their minds and voices grew quiet and calm once more. They continued to lay there for several minutes, soaking in the comfortable silence, feeling — for once — completely in tune with the world around them.

"Hey, Chat?" Ladybug murmured.

"Hmm?"

"I'm glad you're my partner. There's no one I'd rather be here with than you."

He smiled and gently touched his head to hers. "You and me, Milady. Forever."

Hawkmoth and the rest of the world could wait.

Right here, right now?

This moment was theirs alone.

#mlsecretsanta #my writing #ml fic #ladynoir #lovesquare #platonic ladynoir #truth or dare #laughing in the starlight

22 notes · View notes

theverylastoption · 3 years

Text

CHAPTER ONE

I want food, the soft voice says as the pressure on her shoulder builds. The fat cat she'd adopted three weeks ago hops twice, and Brooke grunts from the weight on her shoulder. From the weight as well as out of annoyance. Food!

"Are you kidding me, Bob?" She mutters sleepily. "It's 5AM. Give me a break," she begs. Bob pounces on her stomach, and Brooke exhales in a pained rush. "Holy strawberry cheesecake!" She gasps out, and finally throws her blankets off. Hopefully netting the cat underneath them and giving herself a second to wake up properly. "Okay, I'm getting up, you fat jerk!" She scowls and glares at the lump under the blankets as it moves and finds its way out easily. Bob stares at her insolently and her ears twitch impatiently. Brooke glares at the chonker of a cat, and growls at her. "For Bast’s sake, I even gave you two scoops last night so you wouldn't wake me up early today!"

She gets out of bed, and trips over her own blankets. She hits the ground without any grace, and finds herself groaning as she knocks the wind out of herself. Today was going to be a rough one. She could feel it. Bob comes around from her bed and looks at her with a bored look.

Food.

"I heard you the first time!" Brooke snaps, and grunts as she pushes herself off the floor. Familiars were a regular thing for witches, but she wasn't a witch. She was a superhero. But apparently, Bob was a psychic cat. An annoying psychic cat.

I heard that.

"Oh, for sweet mint chocolate chip, shush! I’m up, I’m getting it!" She retorts to Bob. Bob hisses at her in retaliation. She glares at her, and heads towards the kitchen of her condo slowly. "I'm getting your danged food."

Maybe if you fed me wet food this wouldn't be a problem, Bob says, with the sound of promise in her voice. Brooke groans and shakes her head.

"We tried that, Bob, it didn't work," she chides the cat. "Four meals, half a cup per serving, and dry food. Diet food. I've been eating salads with you. Stop being so mean. I'm eating like a danged rabbit for, and with you. We want to be healthy so that we have long lives, remember?”

Well, it sucks and tastes like ashes, Bob hisses at her.

"You’re telling me,” Brooke mumbles. “Everything tastes like nothing when you're dieting, Bob, get used to it," she says, tiredly. She yawns deeply, and stretches her arms above her head. As she comes into the kitchen of her apartment, Bob stalls and stays in the hallway.

Someone is at the door, Bob suddenly says panicked, running away. Brooke raises a brow. It's 5AM, no one should be at her door. She leans forward to look through her peephole. She doesn't get a chance to see anyone, much less duck or step away, when the shots ring out.

Three shots pierce the door, and she falls backward.

"Bob!" She whisper-shouts out desperately. "Hide!" She manages to roll out of the way as more shots come through the door. Thankfully, her fridge is close to the door in her condo, and it manages to block most of the ricochets. The shots blast holes through the door, and she covers her head as she tries to roll behind her fridge. She tries to inhale, and feels something off.

A punctured lung. Oh no.

She desperately tries to scramble to her feet as more shots come through the door. She doesn't let out a sound, but heads for her balcony. It's made of brick. The rest of the condo is just separated by drywall. Thank goodness the condos themselves are separated by a foot of concrete. She gasps painfully for air. She rolls over the edge of the balcony, and drops ten stories.

When she lands, she scrambles to her feet, knowing she's still alive. But something is wrong. She looks down, and sees a weird dart still stuck within her. That’s not including the bullets that are still within her or grazed her. She grabs it, and pulls the long needle from her body. The excess in the needle seems to have a fluorescent glow to it. What the hell? It's 5AM in late November. The sun hasn't even risen yet. She runs. Barefoot with nothing on her but her pyjamas.

She refuses to cry out in pain. She moves fast, running as fast as her bare feet will carry her. She moves faster than they can despite hearing gunshots ring out above from her balcony, and ends up in an alleyway a block or so away. She gasps again, the plume of heat coming out from her chest and her mouth. Her chest is hurting with every breath. It’s bad. Real bad. She's wearing nothing but her pyjamas, and she can feel herself weakening and fast. She looks around her, and questions herself. How? Can she make it anywhere? The pain is vibrating through her very soul, and she feels tears tracking down her face. She hadn't felt pain like that since… She thinks back. Since I was human. Despite the pain, she forces herself to carry on, ducking through the back alleyways. Her feet are cut and bruised, and she can barely take another step. She desperately struggles to think around her foggy thoughts of somewhere close she can hideout. She struggles to think what enemies she'd made recently that would've retaliated. She'd killed the Mafia Don's son earlier that week. She hadn't meant to start a war. She had simply seen the bad, and done what she had always done. She had handled it. She didn't know who he was, even though he had looked familiar. When she'd realized what she'd done, she'd feared the blowback but had been utterly thankful she'd been in her superhero costume. It had hidden her identity. Or so she had thought. He had kidnapped a young woman, only without a ransom. Human trafficking was definitely a big no-no by Brooke's standards. And so, she had killed him, and his goons. She should've been more careful, done more research, but sometimes, you had to fly by the seat of your superhero suit and make fast decisions. You had a responsibility to the people of your city if you were found to have powers. Now, injured, broken, and bleeding… She was wondering if she'd known that her life would be the payment for that woman to live free, would she have done it over again the same way? Yes. She was barely standing, and dizzy. What was in that dart? Whatever it was, she was barely fighting it off. Her options were limited. She could hope to hide and live. Sleep it out in the alleyway, and let her healing properties take over, but there was no guarantee she'd wake up again. Or she could… It was ludicrous but it was possible. He knew her name. She was nearby his place… They had been enemies for a long time now, but despite knowing one another's names, where they lived, their families… They never attacked on home ground. Only out in the public. They had a kind of unspoken agreement on what was fair game. They were nowhere near friends, but they seemed to have an agreement on where and when it was appropriate to fight. Even the relationship that had taken place when they were young and stupid was never mentioned. As though erased once they had their masks on. She moves as stealthily as she's able to, which isn't very much at all. She surely looks like some drunkard, weaving in and out of the shadows; leaning against random light posts and electrical boxes. She finally makes it to his home, and staggers up his steps. She falls to her knees, and ends up crawling across his small porch. She cradles her ribs with her arm, the dart still in her hand. She raises her hand, grimacing at the pain. With as much strength as she can manage, she bangs her fist against his door. Just once. It's all she can handle. Her fist drags down the door, leaving a smear of blood in its wake. Resting her forehead against his door, she waits precious seconds, the black taking over the edges of her vision.

The door opens abruptly, and she follows with it. She falls half inside his home, her face landing on his barefoot. He pulls it away abruptly, and her cheek hits the ground. She pushes herself up slowly off the ground, her arms quivering from the effort. "What the fuck?" She can only hear the disbelief in his voice. Her head feels heavy, but she lifts it to look up at him. She can barely make him out. The darkness is closing in, and she only has a few seconds before her body succumbs to the pain and she falls into the depths of unconsciousness. She speaks brokenly, only able to make out that he was wearing dark pyjama pants with little stars on them, and no shirt. She only manages a few words, "…didn't know where else to go…" The whole world is embracing her in the dark, and pulling her under. Her arms give out, and as she hits the ground, she exhales, almost in relief. Maybe giving up wasn't so bad. Her last thought before everything fades out is simple, but it almost makes her smile. Little stars on his pajama pants. How cute. ----- There's a none-to-gentle shove to her shoulder. She groans and winces as the pain reverberates through her entire body. She struggles to lift heavy eyelids, and scowls. Why is she so tired? "Bob, please, just let me sleep!" She warns. That damned cat was overweight, and knew when she was to be fed her diet food. Which was by clockwork: 5AM, 11AM, 4PM, and then lastly 10PM. It had become a mantra. But sweet mint chocolate chip, she felt like garbage. Bob may have to wait for her food today. She felt like she'd been through a garbage disposal. Bob had been on a diet for a solid three weeks now, and insisted on her food like clockwork. 5AM on the dot, or she wouldn't let you sleep. Bob was about to sing her the song of her people if she didn't get up pronto and get her food. The question was, could she sleep through all that literal caterwauling? "I don't know who Bob is, but you and I," the voice pauses, slapping her cheek gently. "We need to talk." Her eyes snap open, the pupils dilating into pinpoints painfully. She shuts her eyes tight, and groans. This can't be happening. "Oh by the Gods, no," she mumbles in a barely audible whisper. "Come on, Brooke, wake the fuck up, I don't have time for this," the very familiar voice snaps. She recognizes it immediately as Victor. Oh, may the Gods strike me down right now. Please. She fuzzily remembers struggling to reach his home. She had had no other option. At least she hadn't thought so then. Now she was highly debating on whether she would've preferred to just die in the alleyway. It's weird what survival will make you do. She groans, and goes to sit up without answering him. A large, firm hand presses down on her chest. "Yeah, I don't think so, B," he says, using the moniker he'd used to call her when they were younger as a term of affection. At the moment, it's laced with irritation and barely concealed venom. "You're a fucking mess. I did what I could, but your healing properties need time to push the bullets out. You can't just show up at my door like that, and expect to wander off into the ether again. And you owe me a new fucking couch, you bled right through to the fucking floor. You how hard it is to get blood out of shit." She relents and gives up. Laying back again at the persistence of his hand. "Aloe vera and cool water," she says softly, trying not to hurt herself while talking. "What?" He sounds genuinely confused. "It gets blood out," she says on an exhale, cringing at the pain that assaults her from all different directions. "Can you turn the damned lights down at least? My head is killing me," she mutters almost in an ashamed whisper. She can tell immediately when the lights dim, and she finally opens her eyes very slowly. She meets a very agitated gaze of dark grey eyes under a dark furrowed brow, and sighs embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I didn't know where else to go." "Yeah, you said that when you got here," he says in the same clipped tone. "I'm taking it you weren't followed. It's been all quiet on the Western front so far. Thanks for that by the way, I'm probably going to have to move." "I wasn't followed, Vic," she says in the same quiet voice. She turns her head to look away, and feels tears pricking the back of her eyes. She knew he'd be absolutely furious at her for coming to him. They weren't friends. They weren't acquaintances. They weren't anything anymore, and she knew that. But she'd been desperate. She wouldn't have been surprised if he'd picked her up, and flown her to the nearest intersection and left her there, but he hadn't. "Oh yeah? And you know that for a fact? You were nearly dead on my doorstep, B. I had to flush your system twice over with saline, what the fuck was that shit? You had a fever of 106, and were delirious. It's past 10AM by the way. You think Bob is wondering where you are?" He says, snidely. Was that a hint of jealousy? She takes a slow breath in, trying to ease her way past the pain she feels all over. Her healing properties were much slower than usual. Whatever was in that damned dart gun was freaking lethal. And that wasn't something that the Mafia Don had come up with since she'd killed his son. He or someone he was working with had been working on it for a long time. It made her practically human. It had been a long time since she'd… been human. Felt human. Weak, and unsure. She'd always been clumsy, but thankfully her healing properties kept her from injuring herself in the process. She couldn't fathom what would happen to a human should they be hit by the dart. Would it kill them? Was it meant solely for the supers? "Bob is my cat. She's a real fat thing. I adopted her a few weeks ago," she starts hesitantly. She wasn't sure about telling him about her personal life. It had been a long time since they'd talked without their masks on. They had taken different paths in life, and didn't expect him to care much, but she figured she should explain. "She insists on being fed at specific times. I just assumed she was the one shoving me around to get me awake." She takes him in as she talks. He'd taken the time to put on a shirt, not that it did much to hide his physique. He was always tall when he was younger, but he'd grown into his height. A dark shock of hair hanging loosely over one eye, mussed from running his fingers through his hair as he did whenever he was stressed out. She'd clearly caught him unawares when she'd come to his door in the early morning hours. She tries not to look too long, trying to remember that the person he was when she'd loved him as a youngster was no longer there. She looks away feeling her heart clench in her chest. He wasn't the same person. They'd chosen sides a long time ago. So why had she come here? Why had he helped her?

0 notes

logo-comics · 6 years

Text

Watching Captain Hardrock

Having time to kill, I’ve decided to write down what I say to the screen as I go through this episode.

Gabriel? Buddy/Pal/Friend/Amigo? I’m beginning to suspect that you’re trying to get Adrien akumatized. You do realize that you’d literally be #1 on Akumatized Adrien’s list if you actually succeeded, right? Luckily for you, if I’ve heard correctly, Adrien is too used to disappointment to fall for it.

All aboard the Party Boat!

I like Luka. He’s extremely mellow. Unfortunately, his face is haunting. I’m not sure what it is, either. Something’s just off about it.

So, the question becomes: Is Adrien bad at singing, or is Chat Noir’s voice influenced by Plagg’s caterwauling?

Luka and Juleka’s mom is a delight. I look forward to her akumatization.

She’s gonna make a supersonic man out of you, Luka.

Noise pollution is a crime, and you will legitimately deafen people with that decibel level. I’m surprisingly on his side for that bit, Captain. Ah! There’s the abuse of power! Er... Cap’n? You’re still a citizen of Paris, aren’t you? I don’t think you can just rip up the tickets. And more tickets...

Yeah, I’m not surprised you’ve picked this one, Hawkmoth. I am, however still confused by his immediate appearance in the Butterfly Room. Doesn’t he have other things to do? Does he just spend all of his time in his house office? What about board meetings? I suppose he could do those via tablet, but what if he senses someone having negative emotions during those meetings? This is the question that haunts me. That said, his use of the Hawkmoth voice when he’s alone with the butterflies before creating an akuma is still hilarious to me.

If you’re bringing things to him in exchange for the freedom to sail and do as you please, doesn’t that make you his privateer?

So, romantic scenes with DJWifi and Mylvan with Rose and Juleka in a similar position. I’m having such a good time.

Okay. so I might have been premature with the earlier “ All aboard the Party Boat!” Now, I have nothing to say with the real Party Boat’s arrival...

Rock and Roll Lightcutlass? I’m having a ball.

Mutiny? On MY ship? It’s more likely than you think...

What are you going to do, now that you have no crew to play music?

The remix of the theme song is awesome, as is the death ray on the Liberty.

Jagged Stone did not deserve this.

Nadia is like Lance Thunder from Danny Phantom, without the frequent threat of death that he gets from being sent live on the scene.

It’s a good thing that Adrien watches the news all the time. How often has he been called to action by a well-timed news bulletin?

*No sign of where she could have climbed on that surface* Captain Hardrock: She must have escaped!

To be honest, though, I thought she had somehow hidden in the cabinets, so who’s really the foolish one?

It’s a good thing that no one was on those bridges.

Guitar Villain, Captain Hardrock... XY is one day just going to decide to stop playing Paris, and I will not blame him.

Chat Noir is always a good showman.

That was quick. Ladybug was quicker.

Sabrina’s dad is determined.

I love that yoyo.

Nightingale probably ddn’t deserve this.

Chat Noir is living my dream. Dueling with a pirate along the gaff.

Blushing Marinette/Ladybug is always adorable.

Why doesn’t he ever make a fist when someone’s coming for his miraculous?

Credit where it’s due, he will not stop chasing this boat.

Ladybug just pulled a Batman Vanish in the middle of the fight. This pleases me.

Not the Orchestra!

Chat, that pun was disappointing. You’re better than that.

In the name of the Law, he will punish you!

Seems the ship’s run aground. Hold your applause.

Everyone always says “What happened?” once they’ve been freed of Hawkmoth’s influence and are in front of a clearly victorious Ladybug and Chat Noir in a place that wasn’t the place where they got angry. At this point, were I a citizen of Paris, I would probably ask something more like “I was turned into a supervillain, wasn’t I? Did I at least look cool?”

What does her yoyo attach to when she swings off? It’s a similar problem with some of Spider-Man’s swinging away scenes, granted, but it’s a question I ponder for both of them.

The duet was well-done, though I have to say, Gabriel’s face when Adrien hugged him after he gave him permission was kinda hilarious. ‘I'm letting my son do one minor thing and he’s that excited? Am I that bad a parent?‘ Yes, Gabriel. Yes, you are.

Huh. Roger’s letting this slide. I suppose that chasing the pirate akuma and having witnessed the chaos that the original planned decibel for the concert wreaked before the akumatization gave him context for the expression “Things could be worse.“

Adrien Agreste, the Graceful, Elegant Model, everyone.

So, which one was Luka supposed to be the love rival for, again? Also, Adrien’s legitimate confusion as to who he was speaking to was kinda hilarious. Just: “Hey... you... Long time no see...?”

Kitty Section is the greatest band name ever.

Rose rocking out on the mic is glorious.

1 note · View note