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English
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Published:
2020-03-24
Updated:
2022-06-08
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34,855
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11/?
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Cat and Wolf

Summary:

Being the physical manifestation of destruction and misfortune was about as unlucky as one would expect... And with that innate power, came certain complications for Chat Noir that are not so much an issue for his red-clad counterpart.
...
Malevolent forces are at play when Adrien is summoned to Beacon Hills in the middle of the night, drawing the attention and involvement of Stiles and the Hale pack. Plagg suspects someone is looking to exploit Adrien's inborn energy, putting the boy's life and sanity at risk. Hidden trauma is drawn to the surface, gnawing and haunting. The supernatural in Beacon Hills have stirred. And Marinette, desperate to find the two boys so deeply important to her, soon learns she must fight her way to save her best friend...or lose him forever...

Notes:

A few notes before you begin:
(May contain spoilers for people who haven't seen both shows, proceed with caution!)

1. The timeline for both shows has been altered, and canon has been stripped for parts in some areas.

2. Chat Noir and Ladybug have been heroes for about a year now, both are 14. "Chat" is pronounced like "cat" in both this story and my head; do whatever you will, though. More details for them will be discussed in the actual story.

3. Stiles and the pack are sophomores in high school; all the supernatural stuff started in their freshman year, so they are all around 16 years old. Derek (20 years) is the alpha and Scott and the others are all in his pack. Allison is alive.

*Author has a random tendency to edit things often.

Please enjoy! :D

Chapter 1: Cat

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The jolt was so sudden, so painful, that the cry it drew from his throat peaked into an octave not often achieved.

“Kid?  Kid!”

He was soaked from head to toe, huffing out visible puffs of breath into the autumnal air as his limbs trembled violently. 

“Kid!  I really need you to either say something or look at me…right now!”

A radiating ache echoed across his body, as if his bones were settling back into the space beneath his skin, reassembling a broken figurine.  A dark splotch was shifting in his vista, the presence seemingly urgent, though his emerald eyes blinked slowly and uncomprehendingly for minutes as the blurry world leisurely refined itself.

Something in the back of his mind rang with recognition, with familiarity despite the fogginess that clung to him.  His jaw worked through with little regard to the seemingly lead weight tied to his tongue.

“…Plagg…?” The name was produced more slurred than intelligible speech and were it not for the proximity of the steadily clearing creature in his sight, he doubted the whisper would have been heard.

“Oh, thank goodness!” came the relieved reply, desperation still lingering along the edges of the words.  Plagg relished at how his chosen was finally able to focus on him and seemed to have gained some amount of awareness.  “You had me worried there, Kid!”  The mumbled apology, although still working on clarity in pronunciation, showed more improvement.

Adrien scrutinized the kwami for a few moments longer, breathing through the ache still pulsing through his limbs, trying to make sense of their current predicament.  Because the last thing he remembered was laying down to sleep in his bed and now he was staring up at the canopy of a forest illuminated by the full moon, laying on top of an enormous tree stump, and soaking wet.  The last bit was particularly strange, considering the only things damp were himself and the tree stump, the rest of the surrounding ground and trees were dry.

“What…What happened?” he asked, gingerly moving to sit up on the stump and wrapping his arms around himself to contain what little body heat he had left.  Water dripped lazily off his hair and the tip of his nose, his lungs ventilating air unevenly beneath his breastbone.

Plagg’s face raced through an assortment of emotions before settling on some combination of troubled and vexed.  “Let’s just say that someone may have dabbled in some very old and very dangerous magic.”

Adrien’s eyes became impossibly larger, a shiver wracking his thin frame.  He looked sick.  “Magic?!” he gasped, surprise painting his features almost comically if the situation wasn’t so serious.  “But Master Fu – I thought…Is it another miraculous?”

The cat kwami shook his head—a quick, aborted motion—acid green eyes darting around suspiciously, almost agitatedly, which put the blond teen on edge.  “No, not another miraculous.  This is…something else.  A different kind of magic.”

His chosen’s breathing had yet to settle into anything resembling normal, and the splotchy bruises on his arms stood out against his pale skin.  Even the blooms of violet which Plagg knew were layered over swathes of green and yellow were mildly notable on the boy’s torso through the white shirt, translucent with moisture, as it clung to his overly thin frame.  The pain he was surely experiencing was all too evident in his expression and body language.

However, there were some pressing details his kitten had yet to take note of, and the kwami was not keen on having to explain them in such circumstances, particularly when he needed to get Adrien to move somewhere—anywhere—that wasn’t here.  Quickly.

Bright emerald eyes cut through him though. 

An amendment to the initial course of action. 

He would be remiss to delay an explanation considering the unknowns in this situation.  Because Adrien was clearly confused, and rightfully so, particularly when an occurrence such as this hadn’t been conducted in centuries.  And lying to Adrien was something Plagg would never do.  The bond and the trust they’d cultivated over the past year was treasured.  A deep sigh escaped the magical being, considering the methods to explicate the scope of his knowledge.

“Look, Kid.  I don’t have enough time to explain all the details, and there are some unknowns, but I need you to remain calm.”  The irony, considering the chaos brewing inside the cat kwami presently. 

Adrien nodded, moving his hand to brush his bangs from his eyes, only to freeze abruptly.  What felt like horror sloshed at the base of his belly, and his ragged breaths stuttered to a stop—only to resume at twice the speed originally, his second hand shaking as it plunged into the golden locks on his head.

Plagg had always been astounded at the boy’s ability to stumble across discoveries like it was his job.

“Ah…yeah.  That’s something I meant to tell you about…” Plagg tried, lamely, tiny shoulders shrugging helplessly.

Adrien raked his hands along what felt like two very real cat ears at the top of his head, noting how the appendages had feeling and moved independently in response to his frantic probing.  The sensation of having cat ears was not novel, considering his frequent moonlighting as Chat Noir; however, the prospect of having two real, functioning cat ears on his head—particularly when he was not transformed—was jarring.

He was not calm.

Now hyperaware of himself, a swishing motion in the corner of his eye escalated him into a full-blown panic.  Because that was a tail and it was his.

“PLAGG!!!” came the shriek, followed closely by a yelp when he’d yanked on the appendage and felt a jolt of pain in response.

The kwami swooped over and placed tiny paws on Adrien’s hands, trying to pacify the teen.  “Okay, it’s actually not as bad as you think!”

“What do you mean it’s not as bad as I think?” the blond countered through uneven breaths and a voice so high pitched it was astounding.  “I have cat ears…and a tail!!” 

“Technically you have four ears presently—”

Plagg!

“Okay, okay!” he amended, subtly purring in an attempt to calm his chosen.  Anxiety was far too common an occurrence in the young boy’s life; Plagg suspected he perhaps had some form of panic disorder—justified based on the life he had—though the chances of gaining treatment were nonexistent when one considered the conditions of his household…

And the situation was not improving.  They had to move.  Because something was off about the tree stump Adrien materialized on, and the magic that emanated from the area had the distinct impression of druid magic, which only increased the kwami’s desire to vacate the area.

“Listen, kid,” Plagg began again, “first, I really need you to calm down.”  Meeting the teen’s freaked stare, Plagg torpidly blinked and took exaggerated, yet measured breaths.  A brief pause, before the boy slowly blinked back and attempted to mirror the deliberate breathing, bringing the kwami some semblance of relief.  Precious seconds slipped by, but this was necessary.

“I know this is happening very fast…The ears and tail are tied to the miraculous, I’ll explain it all later, but that’s not the most pressing matter.  We need to leave this place, now.  Because whatever it is that summoned you here is not something we want to get involved with.  So please, kitten, I need you to trust me and move.”

Adrien’s body was shaking almost violently at this point, but despite the obvious discomfort, alarm, and confusion swirling inside him, his large eyes belayed a trust so rarely given from the child.  His lips pressed into a line, visibly stifling a wave of queries, head bobbing in a rigid motion of acquiescence before he was gingerly extricating himself from his perch.

Bare feet pressed into the foliage at the base of the tree stump, the crackle of leaves giving way into the earth beneath as the miraculous holder sluggishly followed his kwami deeper into the woods.

 


 

Stiles sat ramrod straight with a gasp, feeling a disturbing wave of magic jolt through him, amber eyes glowing briefly as he registered the resounding energy.  This wasn’t anything he’d experienced before.  It was nearly overwhelming; he could practically taste the magic as the impact of the spell reached his senses.

Derek and Scott were already on their feet, gazes transfixed on the only human in their midst, recognizing his reaction as being important.  Erica and Boyd roused from their collective nap on the couch, sensing the change in the room; Isaac quietly edging himself back into the living room from his trip to the kitchen for snacks; while Jackson merely cocked his head to assess the situation from the corner of the room.  Lydia and Malia were absent from this particular pack meeting.

“Stiles,” came Derek’s stern intonation.  It was a question as much as it was a declaration.

The human in question released a wavering breath, taking pause to extend a tendril of power in an effort to find the origin of the disturbance.  No one questioned his lack of immediate response—which was generally unnatural for the ADHD teen—simply waiting as he visibly collected himself, eyes finally dimming from their alighted state after a moment.

He turned to Derek, skin tingling from the residual spell that his sixth sense resonated with.  He began, throat mildly dry, “It feels like…like a powerful spell was cast.  I’ve never felt this type of magic before.”

“You mean, just now?” Scott asked, concern painting his face.

Stiles nodded, eyes shifting to look at his hands briefly before once again meeting gazes with the imposing alpha to the right of his best friend.  Derek had a tightness in his stance, an air of uneasiness and alertness the teen was sadly familiar with.  Because when Stiles typically sensed the use of foreign magic, it never bode well for the pack – or Beacon Hills for that matter. 

“Can you tell what kind of spell it is?” Erica chimed in. 

The pack had become a bit more familiar with Stiles’ capabilities following the discovery of his access to magic a few months prior.  A “Spark” is what Deaton had referred to him as, someone with an inborn affinity for magic and the capacity to manipulate it.  Suffice to say the subsequent weeks found the teen immersed in numerous books regarding the magical arts and attending lessons with Deaton to practice his innate abilities; the result had only served to strengthen the pack and their bond.  A Spark was rare, as compared to other magical users like witches and druids; the presence of one was immeasurably advantageous as their power typically served to amplify the strength of other supernatural beings.

Stiles had delighted in the discovery, feeling as though there was finally a way he could contribute more to the pack.  Derek, however, had not taken as kindly to the development.  Stiles had refused the alpha’s demands to abstain from involvement in the frequent supernatural perils so ubiquitous in Beacon Hills, which resulted in dissonance that had set the whole pack on edge.

The current state of Derek’s sentiments was yet strenuous, but as the weeks passed and Stiles honed his talents, they’d come to an agreement of sorts where Stiles was allowed involvement with the stipulation that he remained on the periphery of any potential fight.

Stiles bobbed his head at Erica’s question, remarking, “Something very powerful was summoned.”

At this, Derek’s demeanor turned deadly.  “Where?!” he growled, eyes flashing ruby beneath his brow, canines sharpening slightly as he bared his teeth.

The sixteen-year-old scowled at the older male, rising from his seat on the couch and pocketing his cellphone.  “I’ll direct you—”

No.”  Derek stepped into Stiles’ personal space, heated glare boring holes into the other.

The teen was not impressed.  “I’m going,” he stated with an air of finality, stance firm and gaze unwavering in the wake of the alpha’s reproach, having no patience for the Sourwolf’s hardheadedness.

The stalemate lasted the better part of three minutes, wherein the surrounding werewolves silently observed the battle of wits between their alpha and their human who was, at this point, likely their second in command.  Alas, it seemed Derek and Stiles were none the wiser.  Despite this, it was undeniable to the remainder of the pack—to the extent that bets were placed on which of the two would realize it first.  Scott had even admitted he likely placed third in command.

The moment the standoff collapsed was the moment Derek grabbed Stiles by the collar of his shirt and snarled, “If you so much as place one foot in the way, so help me I’ll kill you myself!”  The younger male shoved him off, fixing his attire before responding with a wicked smirk, strolling toward the front door as the rest of the pack moved to follow.

Outside the restored Hale house, the uneasiness of the young wolves was palpable, because, despite the predictable quarrel between their Spark and their alpha, Stiles’ bravado quickly crumbled as he tuned back in to the magical signature he’d earlier sensed.  Trepidation rolled off his person, a notable scent to the surrounding pack.

Derek addressed the teens as he exited the house, voice terse.  “Follow my lead and tread cautiously.  If you catch a scent, you let me know immediately.  No individual pursuit.  We don’t know what we’re dealing with.” 

He didn’t wait for confirmation of his orders, merely approached Stiles as he shifted, claws and canines sprouting, features morphing into the in-between of human and wolf.  Derek glanced down at the other, nodding as Stiles reached out to place a palm on his shoulder, hand glowing, and feeling the sensation of energy flow into his body allowing him access to a full shift.

Bones snapped, fused, muscle and flesh rearranging, body bowing as anatomy shifted into that of a fully formed wolf.  The Spark waited until the shift completed and glowing red eyes looked back up at him before moving closer.  Derek’s full shift was larger than that of a regular wolf; the consensus was that it was a result of both Derek’s alpha status and Stiles’ magical augmentation.

It served them well enough as Derek lowered his body, allowing Stiles to toss a leg over his back and mount the black wolf, grabbing a handful of fur and curling into the alpha.  The pack gathered near, all “wolfed-out” as Stiles had humorously dubbed the wolf-human hybrid state.  Stiles then gathered breath inside him, located the magical signature, and pointed to the northeast.

A deep, colossal howl erupted from the alpha’s throat, reverberating into the night air, followed closely with responding howls as the pack thrust forward into the woods.

The hunt had begun.

Notes:

Please let me know what you all think! I'm a sucker for comments. They are my life sustenance!! ;3