#i cackled like a mad man when i saw how low quality he could be

[normalcannibalism]

requests i got. feel free to send. more of them

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Psycho Killer - Chapter Four

Have you read Chapter Three?

Chapter Four:  Urgent Urges.

Their journey down into the valley took longer than she hoped; four days, traversing the treacherous snow-covered slopes with hardly a word said between them.

They looted the frozen corpses of the crash victims, and the storage boxes that survived the ordeal.  None of the bodies were familiar, though there were one or two burned beyond recognition.  However they had managed to survive, if they had, she hoped to meet up with the vault hunters again and exact some painful revenge on Handsome fucking Jack.

$128 richer she packed all her loot into her backpack.  Even the junk that was crappier than the junk she used would be sold at a vendor for a couple of dollars.

She split everything with Krieg 50/50 but he was less interested in the loot and more interested in her.

He watched her intently, inhaling as if he wanted to speak, then huffing and shaking his head.

“What is it?”  She snapped, getting pissy.

“Blue lady cold like ice Queen.”

When he spoke at more of a normal volume she knew he was really making an effort.  His eye was clear and watchful.  If she didn’t know better she would swear that he could read her like a book.

“MEATSTICK..”

He smacked himself in the temple.

“ICE QUEEN MELT…”

Smack, smack, smack!

“CATCH A RIIIDEEEE…”

Krieg snarled, tearing at his scalp, leaving deep scratches.

“SHUT UUUUPPPP!”  He howled so loud that Maya felt it vibrate in her chest cavity.

“Shhhh!”  She went to him, laying her hands on his chest.  “You’re making my meat shake.”  She said with a dry smile.  It was easy to fall into his ways, using simpler speech helped her understand him better.

“GOOD SHAKE?”  He growled.

“Not this time.”  She hugged him, loosely.  “It’s ok though, I’m here.  I’m sorry for being, um, distant.”  She spoke into his chest.  “We almost lost one another back there.  It freaked me out some.”

“BEAUTIFUL VALKYRIE OF BLOOD NEVER DIE!”  He cackled. “PROMISE.”

He thinks I’m beautiful?  She blushed.

“I wish I could promise that.” She stepped away.

Krieg’s hands fell loosely at his sides.  “I PROMISE.” He nodded gruffly.

Liar’s berg was a small village with maybe 5 houses, some basic vendors, a gate down to the frozen bay where a raider camp had been built up around a wrecked ship, a gang of bandits and a whole bunch of bullymong burrows.

“Wh-Who’s out there?”  A posh sounding man spoke over the open ECHO channel.

“Vault hunters.”  Maya replied.  “We got your SOS.”

“Oh thank God!  I, Sir Hammerlock, will pay you handsomely if you could clear the town of bandits and bullymong.”

“Pay handsomely times two, some food and a place to crash.”

“You drive a hard bargain, vault hunter, but I agree.”

She turned to Krieg.  “Time to break some meat?”  She grinned.

“I WILL EAT THEIR SOULS FOR BREAKFAST!”

The bullymong were fairly docile at first.  They were usually fiercer at night, or whatever passed for night on Pandora.  Both suns were riding low in the sky this far up north, but it was still fully day.  As they killed the smaller monglets it attracted more larger and angrier bullymong.

“I say,” Hammerlock spoke over the ECHO again, eliciting a grumble from Krieg who needed less voices in his head, not more.  “Since you’re killing bullymong, how about you skin some for me and I’ll reward you with a top-quality hunting rifle?”

“Whatever you say.”  Maya scooped up some ammo that had been hidden in a frozen pile of bullymong shit.

Beggars can’t be choosers.

“Excellent!  When you’re done come to the big house by the gate.  I’ll be waiting for you.”

This could be lucrative for us.  Especially if this guy actually pays up.

“GHOST MAN LIKE LITTLE MAN.”  Krieg grumbled.  “NEVER SHUTS UP!”  He added angrily.

Without warning, a grenade crested the wall they were crouched near.  Krieg picked it up and threw it back, laughing wildly.

The second time it happened the grenade blew up in his hand, knocking Maya back and out into the open.  Bullets started flying and she was forced to back away behind a ‘poop hut’, as Krieg would call it.

She crouched there, looking for something to shoot at or phaselock but she was just at the wrong angle.

Across the way, Krieg was blabbering as he bled out, blood flowing from his severed arm and multiple open wounds in his chest.

“KRIEG!”  Maya cried, in horror.

She was going to lose him.  Did he even have the money for a reconstruct?  She’d never asked.

Maya ran for him only to be shot down at his side.  Her own pain and blood mixing with his as they both lay dying.  Frantically she searched for something to kill for a second wind.  Her vision blackening as she faded.

“RISE!  VALKYRIE OF BLOOD!”  Krieg Roared.

There!  It was a small bullymong, just close enough.  She unloaded her clip in its general direction, hoping beyond hope that it would be enough.

DING!  She was back on her feet as the last of Kreig’s life left him.

“NOOOO!”  She sobbed, trying to patch him up.

“Light… the…. FUUUSSSEEEEE!” He screamed with a final breath, madness making his eye swivel wildly in its socket.

Suddenly he was up, sticks of dynamite digistructing into his hands.  He threw them as he rampaged around the town, exploding everything in his path.

Finally he had the remaining bandits cornered in one yard.  He ran in, clutching all of his dynamite, sinister laugh ringing out.

“I’LL TAKE YOU ALL WITH ME!”  His roar echoed across the berg but strangely the explosion did not. 

The massive boom pitched ice, bricks and blood all across the left side of town.

Maya ran into the aftermath, breath ragged in her throat, tears welling up in her eyes.  There was no way he could have survived that.  Rounding the corner she saw the bloodbath.

“STRIP THE FLESH!”  Krieg buried his axe into the last of the bandits.  His chest heaving, glistening red from the mixture of blood and guts he was doused with.

Holy Hyperion shitballs!

She stopped just shy of swinging distance.  Would he even differentiate her from an enemy?  She’d never seen him rage like that, all kamikaze and shit.  Sure, he’d gone into a buzzaxe frenzy before but that was tame compared to this massacre.

“FIND PRETTY LADY!”  He reeled, staggering around.  His eye was rolling back into his head.

“I’m here.”  She reached out to him.

Krieg rushed her, picking her up as if she were made of air.   At first she screamed, fearing for her life.  He ran her backwards into a pile of clean snow, pinning her underneath him. His grip was too tight, hands too heavy and urgent.

It might just be the cold, or it might be the thrill of almost dying, but her nipples were hard and aching.

Just when she decided that she wanted him to take her, he stalled out, looking down at her, terrified.  He began to flee.

“Wait!”  She gasped, heat rising up her body to settle in her cheeks.  “Wait.”  She said more firmly.

He did.  He waited.  Looking back at her like he expected death.

What am I even doing?  He could kill me with a flick of his wrist.  But isn’t that half of the attraction?  The danger?

“I need this.”  She looked at him, not begging, not asking, just stating a fact.  The tension had been building in her since before she had even met him but be damned if having him around wasn’t a temptation.   She unzipped her pants.  “I need you.” 

“PRETTY LADY…”

Krieg smacked himself in the head.

“NO!  GORE MAIDEN WANTS!”  He grunted, more to himself than to her.

He steeled himself, breathing in shallow huffs.

“Martyr for my ice Queen.”  He went to her, pliant, demure even.

All the rage and all the pain she had bottled up, the worry for him, for herself, and for those lost souls on the train.  The frustration that had been building for all those months since arriving on Pandora.  All of it burned away by the heat of his body against hers.

It wasn’t passionate in a sense that they clung to each other out of love.  There was passion, but it was more feral, carnal, urgent.

There was some finesse to his technique, and the size of his fingers had her gasping.  He built her up and broke her with one hand, thumb circling her sensitive spot while the two inserted fingers worked her relentlessly.  The other cradled the back of her head, keeping her with him, eyes locked with his.

She tore at him, fingernails digging into the muscles of his shoulders as his fingers did the work for her, moans catching in her throat as she ground herself against his hand.

He wasn’t brutal but he was rough.  She would feel this for days after.  The thought had her grinning as she spasmed around his slicked fingers.

Two orgasms later she felt the coolness of his mask resting against the inside of her thigh, anchoring her back in the here and now.

She realised he was still wearing his pants. He strained against the crotch, a sizeable bulge that sent a tingle down between her legs.

Her backside was numb from being lay in the snow.

“Your turn?”  Maya stroked her hand down his mask.  It wasn’t physical contact but it was about as tender as things were going to get.

Krieg shook his head.  “Gift for pretty lady.”  Grunting, he looked her up and down, admiring his good work.

“I don’t get a ride on your meatstick?”  She chuckled, hopeful.

Krieg laughed.  Not the crazy cackle that was his usual laugh, or the booming sinister bloodbath laugh the accompanied his more vicious rage, but a deep rumbling chuckle that sounded rather… normal.

Slightly disappointed but nonetheless sated, Maya stood.  Shaking the snow from the ass of her pants, she zipped them up, cold against her wetness.  Her legs felt unsteady.

That’s how you know it was a good one.

“Attention, People of Pandora!”  A sickeningly familiar voice came over the open ECHO channel.  “Handsome Jack here, offering one million bucks to whomever brings me the heads of the vault hunters who just arrived in Liar’s Berg.”

That man made her feel angry all over again.

“Oh, and I’m still offering a reward for Roland, the mass-murdering leader of the Crimson Raiders.  Good hunting, bandits!”

“I WILL PUT MY PAIN IN HIS SOUL!”  Krieg punched the air.

“You said it!”  She smiled, warmly, for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

Despite the hatred she had for that asshole, Jack, she felt buoyant.

“Better come back quickly, you two.”  Hammerlock spoke urgently.  “Captain Flint is sending a raiding party to collect the reward on both of your heads.”

“Let’s go, muscles.”  She drew her SMG, swinging her hips with renewed swagger as she strutted her way to Hammerlock’s house.

Krieg followed as he had, so far.  She hoped she could rely on that in the future.

Looking over her shoulder she caught a glimpse of a mask partially raised.  His hand was underneath, fingers in his mouth, a small moan forming in his throat, totally unashamed of the obvious hardness in the front of his pants.

Well if that’s not the hottest thing I’ve seen in a long time.

“SWEET MEATS FOR THE TASTING!”  Krieg cackled, catching up to her with eager strides.

Smug, she grinned at him.  Things were looking up.

Fin.

[shadowracers]

Shadow Racers - Reality - Prologue

Sunday, October 28, 2017

23:00

The Zoo Nightclub, Ginza District, Tokyo, Japan

Black and Mio sat in their new patrol car, a special R35 GT-R. The department had gotten a couple of GT-Rs last month to combat street racers on the Bayshore route. The impact it had on the scene is insane - the racers disappeared almost overnight. The new cars are pushing over 600 horses. It’s ironic, though, since the Nissans are so heavy and most of the drivers in the department aren’t the most talented. The racing scene moved to inner Tokyo again, where the fat lizards get dusted on the curves of the C1 and East loop. Paul grunted. He wanted to be chasing down those guys, but 3 years later he’s still posted at The Zoo. His frustration was made worse by him returning the Fairlady to his father. After owning it for 8 years, he figured he’d put it away so he could pass it down to his children. It’s better than wrecking it on the Wangan trying to chase nonexistent ghosts, he reasoned.

“Has it really been 3 years?” He thought out loud. “What’s that, boy?” Asked Mio. “Oh, nothing. I was just thinking back. You remember when I first started here? That night we chased down that M5?” “How could I forget?” Mio wasn’t too excited to talk about this and it showed in his dripping sarcasm.  “You’ve been doing good here, kid. Don’t go screwing it up with fantasies of ghost cars. Jeez, your old man chewed me out when he found out about that stunt you pulled.” “Yeah, he didn’t let me hear the end of it either. It’s why I retired the Z.” Black was adamant, still. “The real reason I bike to work is to save up for something… nicer. Too bad that M5 disappeared after that night. Although I saw one like it at Jin’s shop, but I doubt it was the same one.” Mio raised an eyebrow, “Yeah, that old fool called me after you showed up that week. I never could get over that cackling laugh of his. Devils in these streets, bla bla. Said you might be getting into trouble and look out for you. Ironically it was a month after that when you put the Z away. I never did ask why, saw something that scared you?” Paul laughed it off, “Yeah, you could say that. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen the club owner, that guy they call Boss, since then. Whatever. I’ve got some money saved up, think I’ll go put a down payment on a new ride tomorrow. Wanna come with?” “Nah, I’m working the auction with your old man. Why don’t you get something from there, you’ll save money.” Mio’s advice often went nowhere with Paul, who replied: “I got my eyes set on something new.“

===========

Saturday, 23:00

Konan Isle, Minatu

The elevator dings as it reaches the 20th floor. Its doors open and Snake steps out into the hallway, phone in one hand and a bag of food in the other. The Okonomiyaki restaurant across the bridge has become his favorite, especially since the menus are in English so there are no surprises when ordering. He responds to a text message. It’s work-related. "Not tonight, I’m tired.” He puts the phone away, reaches for his keys and enters the apartment. He’s lived longer in Konan than the house in Yugawara, yet the place still feels very new to him. Things are very different now. You could say things are quiet, but it’s always calmest before the storm. After his run-in with the Devil his desire for speed was awakened. What he didn’t expect was that creatures far worse than the Devil walk the earth. “Has it really been that long?” Once inside, he finds Matt asleep on the sofa. “Yo!” He smacks Matt’s shoulder and shook him awake. “I brought food.” Startled, Matt jumps up off the seat. “Whoa, Boss, what are you doing home so early? No going to the club tonight? Oh, hey, this came in the mail today. It’s from Sotheby’s … I think they found the car.” “It’s about damn time!” Snake snatched the mail from Matt’s hand. After selling his vehicle collection 3 years ago, he had put his motoring hobby on pause and just focused on business. He had to repair the damaged house and bribe the entire neighborhood to keep a lid on the incident with Aria. His prized M5 ended up having a cracked engine block and there was no salvaging it. And, the R33 he bought at the auction was so poorly maintained he blew that engine too before getting a chance to further modify it. Besides, Dagurasu’s sister instilled a fear in him he didn’t quite have words for. So he kept off the streets and moved into the city. Snake opened the envelope and proceeded to read the letter. “Crap!” “What, what it is?” Asked Matt. “So they didn’t find the car?” “No, they did. It’s going up for auction in a few weeks … in New York. Damn it, of all the places for one of the 77 made to be sold.” Snake didn’t want to think about going back. “I’ll have to send you in my stead to pick up the car and handle shipping arrangements.” “Yeah, yeah, no problem. I can do that.” Matt knew how to keep a low profile. Snake measured him with his look. “You’re gonna need a suit.”

===========

Sunday, October 29

15:00

BMW Premium Selection

Chuo, Minatu

“Ah! Mr. Tanaka, welcome! We spoke on the phone.” The salesman held the door open for Paul and led him towards the showroom. “Everything checks out and you’re approved. While we get your paperwork ready, have you decided on your options package?” “Yes, the competition package.” Paul was confident. He was financing this car and had no intention of voiding the warranty with aftermarket upgrades. “Excellent, sir! Right this way. We have 3 of those in stock, right this-” “Wait, what’s that over there? Tha-that black one?” "Where, oh.. well, that was a special order but the client defaulted on payments and the car was reclaimed successfully. It has under 5k kilometers.” The salesman walked over to the car with Paul. “It’s the executive package, so it’s heavier than competition, but has been fitted with Alpina upgrades. Breathing, and handling. As well as a special coat of paint that reflects radio waves.” He starts lowering his voice. “I’m only telling you that because you’re in the force. This may come in handy to a bad actor.”

The salesman smirked.

Paul sighed, “Sounds like it’s out of my budget.” The salesman made a new offer on the car: “It’s a CPO, I can include comprehensive maintenance including loaner car for the duration of your warranty, for free.”

===========

Monday, October 30

6:00

Konan Isle, Minatu

Snake had gotten out of the shower and dressed himself in a grey 3-piece suit, white shirt and no tie. He walked over to Matt’s bedroom door and struck 3 loud knocks on it. “I’m up, I’m up! Jeez Snake, what’s the deal?” “Shower and get dressed, we’re going shopping. I called Jin to let him know we’re not coming in today.” Snake threw a set of car keys and Matt caught them. “But first, breakfast. You drive.” “What!? The Lexus?! Sweeeet!” They went for breakfast at a local soup joint shortly after.

===========

Monday, 8:00

Kaigan Isle, Minato

After eating, they hopped back in the car. The high compression 5.0L V8 engine erupts into life and startled  the other foodies at the restaurant. Snake entered an address into the car’s GPS and Matt followed the guidance. “So where we goin, Boss, Ginza?” Snake scoffed, “Do I look like a tourist to you? Nippori, I know a guy that can hook you up. Also, the auction letter was dated a few weeks ago. The car is being sold this weekend, I went ahead and booked your flight and hotel. The suit should be ready the day of your flight. You leave Friday.” Matt nods as he pulls out and the engine’s throaty note burbles and pops. The factory spec was underwhelming for this 2-ton behemoth. Even though he helped design the modifications it currently sports, Snake never let Matt drive the 700hp land yacht. He was grinning just to be in the driver’s seat, even if it was just cruising at the speed limit in 10th gear. The interior was incredibly comfortable and luxurious. Snake noticed Matt’s grin.  "Go ahead, let loose.”

They came up to the tunnel as they head North and Matt dropped 4 gears via the magnesium paddle shifter and the car barked like a mad dog and as it warped to 150 kph, the hidden spoiler popped out to give the car extra stability.

Traffic wasn’t too bad but Matt lifted anyway and dropped back to legal speeds as the engine backfired and gargled.

===========

Monday, 9:00

Nippori Textile District, Arakawa

The Lexus pulled up to a parking spot on the busy street. Matt looked out at the small garment store. “This is the place? Looks a little… cheap.”

“Appearances can be deceiving. The old man that runs this shop is the best suit maker in town. He does all of mine. You’re gonna want a unique outfit if you’re to represent me at the Sotheby’s auction. After all, the car you’re to buy is very unique indeed. Only one of 77 made.”

===========

Tuesday October 31, 22:00

C1 Central Inner Loop

“This is amazing.” Paul whispered to himself.

The chassis is engineered to perfection. You barely feel the weight and it’s incredibly nimble. The twin-turbos have virtually zero lag, and power comes on instantly.  Paul came out of the tunnel a little sideways, showing off the German machine’s legendary handling whilst tackling the slalom with flair and ease. 

“Pedigree is an important quality to a Sports car,” he thought. “Only an ultimate driver can truly appreciate and feel the genius that goes into the ultimate driving machine. The unparalleled success as a touring car, it shows.”

A few more corners.  Double-apex right, then a sweeping left hander dives into another tunnel. Paul floors it for a brief second, then taps the brakes for the long uphill left before his exit.

“That’s enough for tonight,” he thought.

As he approaches the off-ramp, he puts on his turn signal. He looks in his rearview mirror for traffic and that’s when he notices it… He was so engrossed in driving that he didn’t realize he was being tailed. His senses are usually keen but he didn’t hear this guy come up.

He felt himself wrapped in an evil presence. It was Halloween, after all, and everyone was roaming the streets in character. But this malevolence felt real and tangible as he choked up on his saliva.

The mysterious car moved swiftly out of the lane from behind Paul and pulled up beside him. Paul turned his gaze out the window for a better view… and then he saw it. It was unmistakable. Berlinetta Boxer. He harkens back to his first time seeing it on Wangan. It moved with the same grace, yet there was something awfully wrong with it. It looked as if having just experienced a bad accident: Windows shattered, a tire in flames, the paint had been burned off - looked more like it had just survived an explosion. Then he saw the driver…

“This can’t be real…” It wasn’t the same man as three years ago, at least not in the same shape. For this driver truly looked right out of hell. 

The road dropped to street level and Paul slammed the brakes! “What WAS that?!” The timing couldn’t be worse. Or…was he the right man in the wrong place?

===========

To Be Continued.

[scrapsofmiraculous]

The Seeking Game [CH:6]

Summary: Thief AU, a mouse-and-cat chase, ever evading, ever reaching. Some flirting in between the lines. In which Ladybug is the notorious phantom thief, and Adrien is an amateur detective trying to catch her.

Character Focus: Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Pairing vary, but expect Reverse! love square (Ladybug likes Chat, and Adrien likes Mari!)  

Collaboration with @miraculoustaliabug, who wrote chapters 2 and 4, and bits of this chapter as well. Shower them with love, cause they’re awesome.

CH: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

*Odd chapters written by scrapsofmiraculous, and every chapter onward from CH. 6  

“Dressed in an unusual outfit of black leather, cat ears and a tail...” Marinette reads out loud, through furrowed eyebrows. She wonders if it could mean trouble.

She looks up from the article over to Alya, who’s already by her desk, scrolling through her blog via Marinette’s desktop. It was late evening, and Alya’s anger has simmer to low heat. It had been a slightly rough day for her...

Chloé and Sabrina had held true to their threat, and immediately after their last class had ended, they marched right into the principal’s office, holding Alya’s vigilante (“glorified thief,” Chloé corrected) blog hostage. There was a lot of back and forth, and the discussion lasted close to an hour. They would have been finished earlier, if not for accuser’s flair for the dramatics.

Chloé had dapped her dry eyes with her handkerchief, stomped her foot exactly ten times, and huff ceaselessly about bringing her father into this matter. Sabrina hovered close by, all too willing to help her friend play the victim card. It took all of Marinette’s willpower not to roll her eyes or throw a biting remark, and it had probably costed five years out of her own life span too. Such was the duties of being class president.

The principal was a patient man, and listened without interruption. After both parties have said their piece, he delivered the verdict.

“...Now, with everything I have heard,” he said, clearing his throat, “I can’t say that it’s a very difficult issue. Ms. Raincomprix is right, Ms. Césaire. The school blog should remain a school blog. You may report what you wish on a personal website.”

Sabrina shot them both a vindicated smirk.

“However,” he continued, giving the redhead and blondie a pointed glance, “this matter does not need to be resolved with detention. Ms. Césaire can still report anything she wishes to outside of school.”

Alya, to her credit, did not sneer back at the offending party. But she did look at them with a certain level of coolness that made even Marinette shudder.

“I’ve said my piece-”

“But what about me,” Chloé wailed, “just wait until my father hears-”

“-and my decision is final,” he continued, without so much as a pause. “Please carry on your personal interest outside the school, Ms. Césaire. I’ll give you the next 24 hrs to regulate everything. You may still run our blog, but make it more relevant to the students and facility, hm?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Ms. Bourgeois, do refrain from calling your father. I’m sure he has more important matters to deal with. Perhaps a city to govern?”

Chloé opened and closed her mouth several times at that statement. At lost of what to do, after finally told she was not going to get her way, she stormed out with a huff. Sabrina stumbled after her. After a moment’s pause, Alya headed off too, making sure to keep a sizable distance between her and those girls. Marinette thanked the principal quickly, and as she exit she saw him put out a bottle of brandy from the bottom drawers.  

Marinette made a face at the memory.

“Good thing for us, huh? Thank God for the principal,” she said, trying to make light conversation.

Alya huffed in response. She was still transferring her posts, but the increasing tap-tap-tap of the keyboard signified she was not as cool about the whole thing as she would like Marinette to believe. Minutes continued with Marinette’s weighty gaze on her, and when she couldn’t take it anymore, she put a pause from her work.

“Chloé not liking my blog doesn’t get me rifle up, to be honest,” Alya confessed, grimacing. “No, what really gets me mad is the way she just - just...hounds after me. Like, ever since day one of me transferring, she had to challenge me. Well, us. She finds any leeway to get us punished for no good reason! And she enjoys it! Because she’s a snotty nosed brat that isn’t use to being told off!”

“I hear you,” Marinette agreed, “but if any of us has to be mature about the situation, I’d rather it be us.”  

“Because Chloé can be really mature about these things,” Alya snorted.

She had just finished her most recent posting when Marinette handed her today’s paper (“shoot, I’m going to be a little late with this,” she mumbled) and gave it a quick read. Marinette studied Alya’s eyes as they scanned the page, and how her eyebrows quirked up when she reached the end. Alya fold up the newspaper, a slight glint in her eyes.

“So, what do you think? Could this means trouble?” Marinette asked.

“Trouble for who exactly?” Alya uttered, still deep in thought.

Ah, that’s right. Marinette had to be careful with what she says. Alya was uncommonly astute.

“Some writer got too over eager for a pay raise,” Alya said, absentmindedly thumbing the folded paper. “They gave a description of the Phantom Thief without knowing if it was true.”

“But this guy...this cat burglar, was found at the scene of the crime...”

“That’s precisely it,” Alya said, and Marinette caught a speck of satisfaction in her voice, “this is just guess work but, the Phantom Thief...they’ve already had weeks to perfect their technique. Why slip up now?”

Marinette bit her cheeks, looking doubtful. But really, she was just trying to stop that small smile from creeping into her face.

“Mistakes happen, Alya.”

Alya shook her head. “Not with the Phantom Thief. Their first major debut on the papers happened on September, three months ago. Even before they made it to the the 7th arrondissement...they were too careful to get caught. They leave hours before the cops arrive, leaving notes about what they’ve done. They haven’t slipped up, not once.

“This person they almost caught, here listen to this, ‘stammered when asked their identity, and high tailed out of there as soon as the police were compromised’...this person sounds like they were in the wrong place, at the wrong time. They’re an amauter with a costume on.”

“So a copy cat?” Marinette smirked.

“Yep,” Alya nodded, popping her p, “and not a good one. But, their mistake sure isn’t as bad as the journalist who wrote the article. They even left a description, ‘an unusual outfit of black leather, cat ears and a tail...’”

“Inspiring a round of copy cats for a copy cat,” Marinette muttered, nodding slowly.

They remained quiet as Alya typed short notes for her analysis on the article. She would post it in the morning, as it is already dusk. Marinette closed her textbook and assignments of the night, intent on watch her friend finish up as well. It was only after Alya had put on her jacket for home did she repeat her question from before.   

“So, what do you think?” Marinette asked, standing by the doorway.

Alya wrapped in her scarf, the newspaper tucked in her other arm. The evening lamp lights did wonderfully to light up her red hair.

“I think, I’m going to be very busy with the blog from now on,” Alya said quietly, eyes positively shining now.

Marinette felt herself silently agree, that smile from earlier peaking through her lips.

“Marinette didn’t look happy today,” Plagg announced.

As if Adrien didn’t have enough on his mind. He did, but as soon as the spirit mentioned her name, it was like nothing seem to matter anymore. Before he let himself get too enamored by her name alone, he snapped to.

“You were watching? You’re supposed to stay hidden!”

“And miss out on a show like that? No way!” Plagg cackled.

“Chloé can be… mean, sometimes,” Adrien admitted, a bit sheepishly.  

“Sometimes?” The kwami snorted.

Adrien ignored him. He knew that a lot of people found Chloé to be...unpleasant, to say the least. But still. She was his childhood friend, and he felt obligated to stick by her, at least just a little. Besides, he knows where he stands. Everybody is just so in  love with the concept of a Robin Hood to know right from wrong.

“I didn’t mean to agree that it was worse to steal from rich people. Just that stealing is wrong and that we shouldn’t be acting like someone who steals is a celebrity to look up to, or...or some sort of superhero.”

“And I suppose that if they want a celebrity to look up to then they have supermodel Adrien Agreste, and if they want a superhero they have Chat Noir, right?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” He gritted, reddening at the accusation.

“That’s happening a lot today. I think you should learn to say what you mean.” Plagg was lazily reclining in mid-air, as he was oft to do when making a nuisance of himself.

“Everything I just said right now was comprehensible,” Adrien intoned flatly.

But for once, he thought the fairy might have a point. He couldn’t help that he was just bad at talking to people his own age - he’d been homeschooled for most of his life after all! But it was a flaw, and whilst it was one his father probably wouldn’t have minded, it was something that Adrien himself was determined to overcome, by any means necessary.

“By the way,” he said, coloring a little bit more, “Chat Noir is just a work in progress. I’ll decide on a better name later...”

Plagg tilted his head, “Really? I think it suits you. Dark, brooding, mysterious...all the qualities of a proper hero!”

Adrien tripped a little on his way to the bathroom, stubbing his toe. It hurt like hell, but he was determine not to let to show. He clenched his fist, forcing a wan smile. He’ll catch that - that Ladybug for sure next time. He won’t play the fool next time, he just won’t! As for Alya Césaire...well, it’s about time she’s changed topics right? Journalism was a fast-paced, always in sync with the world. It’s about time she wrote about a hero.

Chat Noir, Paris’ Night Hero. That didn’t sound half bad. Adrien let out a small chuckle. He got ready for bed, a surge of renew strength beating in tune with his heart.

But in the end Alya got the last laugh. She made a link to her Phantom Thief Archive Blog for a limited time only. It would be taken down in the next 24 hours, as per the principal’s request.

By the end of tomorrow, she would gain 117 more followers.