"the moth's apprentice" chat noir x y/n

Any Means Necessary

two quick questions for y'all, my favourite audience, before we start this chapter:) 

1. Y/N's POV, 3rd person's, or Adrien/Chat Blanc's for the next chapter?

2. How...how should I write smut if he's still akumatized....and do y'all want smut? 

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3rd person's POV

"Don't breathe," Chat Blanc slunk up beside Y/N as she slept in the abandoned library. He tucked the blanket around her tightly, leaning over her. His shadow doused her body in darkness and he drew back, so that the light of the moon covered her in its white haze. 

Chat Blanc lowered his voice so that she wouldn't wake. "don't breathe." He repeated in the same hushed — whispered tone. "Don't even blink, my darling, for the world is coming to an end." He stared up at the ruined sky — at the shatters around Paris, breathing in glee and sadness at the destruction. 

With a sigh, he turned back to Y/N, barely registering that he even existed. Because all that mattered was her. The way he surveyed her as she lay — made him feel a strange way. Chat Blanc wasn't supposed to feel anything. As an akumatized villain, the only emotions programmed into his brain were fear, madness, and obsession. 

Obsession. The white cat thought to himself as he knelt next to her as one would appraise an alter. She was oddly beautiful in the washed out light, her arms and legs bent at perfect angles. 

"If only I could save you," he whispered quietly, murmuring his wish to the endless abyss of nothing. He knew that the time in this world was limited. Soon enough, the two of them would fade away, their memories lost and churned into oblivion. "If I could...if I would..." he repeated over and over. Chat stared down at himself, wondering what it would be like if he wasn't in this state. 

He leapt over her body, crouching on a table next to the broad windows. "I'm sorry, Y/N." 

When Y/N woke that morning, the sun had far risen into the sky and clouds had drifted their way over the library, covering it in a hazy fog. 

She reached up, feeling the blanket still wrapped around her tightly. It smelled vaguely of Chat — whichever version she wanted to remember. Adrien, Chat Noir, Chat Blanc — to her they were all very different people. 

Chat Blanc was withering away in his own pile of misery — spread eagled on the table next to the window. He didn't even roll over when she approached him, instead blinking his wide eyes open. 

She purged the thought — but Chat Blanc was sort of beautiful in his own way. His claws glinted in the sunlight as his hands twitched, fingertips gliding over the surface of the worn table. 

"Sleeping, are we?" Y/N moved closer to the villain. She stood on a chair, and then planted her legs on either sides of his body, ungracefully slumping down on top of him. 

Chat groaned, lifting his tired head to see the girl. "To be or not to be — I would rather not be," he whined, muttering under his breath. "I would rather be—" 

"A philosophical mad-cat?" Y/N questioned, bending over. "You know — you're acting like a baby. And a bit like your father too—" 

"How dare you," Chat Blanc hissed at her, seething. He scrambled on the table, claws and legs slipping on the surface. "I'm nothing like my father." 

"Mm...I've hit a nerve," Y/N drew out her words teasingly. "I only meant that you're starting to sound like an old man." 

"Oh the comings and goings of age," Chat sunk back into his weird state of random sayings. "One can never be sure where they may end up. They must only pray that it is surrounded by loved ones—" 

Y/N was starting to get used to this side of him. She grinned. "Loved ones, huh? I thought villains had no loved ones." 

He shrugged. "I've loved...I've hated." 

She rolled her eyes. "You really are turning into a philosophical mad cat." 

"And you, my darling, are turning into someone who tolerates me," Chat sat up suddenly, which nearly threw her backwards. He slid off the table, Y/N still clinging to him. He pushed her off, standing with his hands on his hips. "I can't have you tolerating me —" he shivered. "Growing to like me..." 

Y/N frowned. "I've always liked you, not-Chat Noir, not-Adrien," she put her hands on his chest, feeling the fabric of his suit move under her fingertips as he breathed. His heart rate elevated slightly as she stood on her toes to talk directly to him. "I don't care who you are — what mask you're wearing. I'm not giving up on you yet." 

Chat Blanc shivered. "The sooner you accept me for what I am, the less painful this will be for you." 

Y/N smiled at him, an expression that almost melted his icy heart. For a second, he considered rejecting the Akuma. But what would that do? Absolutely nothing. He'd still have destroyed half the universe and Y/N would have to live out the rest of her life with someone who was responsible for the destruction of everyone and everything they'd ever known. 

"Painful or not, I can take it," a glint of determination appeared in her eyes and he suddenly remembered that this was the girl who'd lived with a horrible man everyday. And who worked for a horrible man everyday. His father. She'd been Raven, the supervillain who nearly over took Chat Noir and Ladybug. Surely, she'd be able to thaw him. 

"You can take it, yeah?" Chat drawled, leaning closer to her. He grabbed the side of her hip, pulling her closer until they were touching at every point. Heat radiated up Y/N's entire body, meeting at the core of her spine. She shook slightly under his hold but didn't pull away. 

It was starting to remind Y/N of the time they spent together as Chat Noir and Raven. 

"I—" Y/N narrowed her eyes. "Can certainly handle anything you throw at me." 

Chat Blanc nodded slowly—mockingly. "Let's have a little competition then, yeah?" 

"I'm listening." 

"If you get flustered, I win," he waved his hands around momentarily breaking contact with her body. "If you flap around like the little Birdy you are, and back out of the challenge, I win." Chat Blanc's expression turned stony. "If I win, you give up on me. You never call me Adrien or Chat Noir again, and you call me as what I am." 

"If I win, you have to try to reject the Akuma," Y/N said, her voice full of sureness. "I'm not saying you have to succeed, but you have to try." 

His eyes flashed. "Fine." 

"What method of...quote on quote 'flustering' are we using?" Y/N questioned, tipping her head to the side. 

Chat Blanc stepped in between her legs, leaning over to whisper in her ear. His words sent chills down her spine. 

"Any...means....necessary."