Flours For His Princess
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chat Noir turns into a cat!
No akumas or enemies, just Adrien figuring out suddenly being a cat and bakery hijinks.
Plagg, Claws Out!
Well, he definitely hadn’t expected this.
Instead of his usual transformation light, he heard -no, felt- a dull pufft and noticed a marked change in his perspective. He peered about, trying to assess the situation or identify any possible threats.
This was strange. No evil laughter or screaming coming from the streets, and he didn’t seem to have left his room or been magically captured? Yet something felt… quite off. For one, everything in his room seemed much bigger. Perhaps it was an akuma that could change sizes from a distance?
Anyways, he needed to get up to the windows to get a better idea of what was going on outside. He padded over towards the windowed wall and tried to jump up to the ledge from his new diminutive position. Oh wow!
Apparently, his size wasn’t the only change- that was a way more powerful jump than he expected without his staff! Oof. Yeah, that was a definite faceplant into the window. Luckily, he seemed to have some padding for the collision, but also parts of his face felt extra sensitive. He rubbed at his whiskers, offended.
…Wait.
Oh no, oh no. He curled in on himself, paws covering his face, afraid to look. Deep breaths Adrien. You are Paris’ hero Chat Noir and they probably need you right now. Ok, let’s open our eyes, and- yup. Those were little black paws, and oh- of course, a tail twitching with irritation. (No, don’t get distracted by those adorable toe beans! They might be cute, but not enough to outweigh the panic setting in.)
As his mind dropped him into a downward spiral of fear and confusion, a small light of hope pulled him out.
Of course! Marinette could help him! She always knew just what to do. A soft smile played below his whiskers.
Ok. Goals he could do - he’d been meeting unrealistic expectations his whole life. The first step was to get out of his room. Thankfully, his father always installed the latest tech. If he could just find the remote, it would be kitten’s play to get the windows open!
Two and a half window sills of cat-robatics later and he was standing over the remote. It may have been slightly more awkward with paws than he anticipated, but the buttons were big enough that he had the window open shortly.
🐾 🐾 🐾 🐾 🐾
The journey was easy, natural. That’s the word that came to mind as he bounded over rooftops. Still, with his short legs, it was nearing sundown by the time he arrived.
He could see through the large display windows that Marinette was currently ringing up her last customers.
Purrfect. He could slip in the back door unnoticed, and then catch her when she was alone. Trying to communicate that his cat self was actually Chat Noir was going to be complicated, even without other people in the mix.
Dropping like a shadow from the rooftop across the street, weaving nimbly between the traffic- Oh yeah. He was totally stealth personified. A smug kitty smirk marked his furred face.
Marinette’s parents stepped out the back door, arm in arm. He darted through the impossibly tiny gap before it closed, thoughts flitting briefly to how Marinette must be helping with the store to let them go on a date night.
How just like her. Hopefully she has room in her schedule to help one more kitten today…
The small cat’s perspective of the kitchen still spoke to the warm and loving family running it. Small touches like Marinette’s signature logo on a handmade apron and oven mitts, the lack of dust -even from his new view below the counters- speaking to Sabine’s dedication, and that heavenly aroma- no doubt Tom’s experiment was going to be a huge hit on the new menu!
Although the oven was now off, there was a tantalizing radius of warmth in front of the large appliance. A shiver of pleasure visibly moved from his shoulders down to his tail. Ah, I could get used to sleeping like this, he thought as he circled once, twice and began to lay his head upon his paws…
NO!! I shall not succumb to the demon warmth!
With a slight hiss, he scrambled up and away from that lovely spot, already missing the blanket-like embrace.
Where was far enough? Somewhere Marinette would be sure to see him, but nowhere near the heavenly oven?
His sight landed upon a human eye-level shelf. Course decided, he took a few steps back and bounded onto the island counter. Landing gracefully, he turned to eye the intended shelf. Shoulders lowered, butt wiggling, eyes narrowed to focused slits- He leaped and soared across the kitchen!
Things had been going so well the whole journey, and his confidence was through the roof right now. Unfortunately, this particular jump was much like that first in his room - too much power, too little landing space.
He collided claws first with a partially filled sack of flour.
Floundering for purchase on the shelf, he instead twisted the fabric until his claws were stuck, with the rest of the momentum launching both cat and flour past the shelf.
Turning in the air, trying to free his claws- Almost had it… There!
His heart dropped as he saw that ‘releasing his claws’ had actually been ‘ripping the sack open.’
🐾 🐾 🐾 🐾 🐾
Marinette waved off Nadia and Manon as they left, arms full of pastries. She locked the door and stretched her arms high above her head. She huffed, hands on hips. Time to clean up the kitchen, and then the storefront.
She pushed back the swinging door, lifting her gaze to meet startled green eyes amidst a field of white.
Both parties seemed equally surprised as they locked gazes. Marinette halfway through the door, cat lying on its back, paws in the air - utterly covered in flour.
Mreow?
The confused noise was followed by some kitten sneezes and little flour clouds. Tired as she was, Marinette couldn’t help the chuckles bubbling up her throat as the white lump attempted to right itself, spreading flour around in the process.
“Chaton Blanc, what trouble you’ve made!” She managed between giggles.
Gently stepping between flour drifts she picked up the little mischief maker and folded him into her apron to prevent the mess from spreading further.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, Mon Minou.”
Holding the currently-white cat close, Marinette starts up toward her apartment. The disaster in the kitchen can wait. 🐾