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

Vector Returns

TW: descriptions of prostitutes, kinda, but all characters are 17+ and they're not actually prostitutes. It'll make more sense later. 

_

A hand grips my shoulder the moment I step foot towards the dark lair. His lair. I turn around, expecting to see Hawkmoth, but the face that stares back at me is none other than Chat Noir. He opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out and — 

"Y/N!" Mom calls. 

I look like a mess. My hair is tangled and the bags under my eyes make me look like I haven't slept for days. Worst of all, there's a pounding in my head that hasn't let up since the kiss. The kiss. The Kiss. Chat Noir and his familiar taste. The rain on my skin as his arms enveloped me. His  grasp on my throat. God. 

I nearly choke on spit just thinking about it. 

"I'm not ready yet!" 

Mom's taking me to see Gabriel Agreste's fashion show at his mansion. The one and only time that I'll ever step foot there, probably. The first and last time that I'll see the house of Gabriel, the brilliant millionaire. Also the father of dreaded Adrien Agreste, the manwhore who sleeps with Marinette and dates Lila Liar. 

Lila Liar and Adrien are the special models of the night. What a shitshow that will be. 

I push my hair out of my eyes, hurriedly trying to make myself look presentable. After about thirty seconds, I give up. I was fighting a losing battle anyways. 

Chat Noir. God, I need to stop. 

No, keep thinking about me. 

And that's the other thing. Apparently, I can now hear his voice inside my head as if he was reading my thoughts and responding to them. Chat Noir didn't explain much before we got out of the Void — due to Ladybug's 'Miraculous Ladybug', but I got the gist. 

Chat Noir knows me somehow; either I used to live here and don't remember, or he just thinks he knows me because I remind him of the old Raven. His lost secret flame that Ladybug doesn't know about. And the other thing — 

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the tiny package wrapped in twine. Hawkmoth's parting gift to me before he pushed me to what was supposed to be my death. It seemed that the contents were supposed to save me from falling, but Chat Noir got there first. 

I lift it between two fingers, hoping that it doesn't explode. Gingerly, I unwrap the string and unfold the cardboard. At least he wrapped it all nice and pretty. 

"What the—" 

It's the necklace. The Raven Miraculous, or at least, that's what it looks like. Instinctively, I drop the box and fasten it around my neck. I only get about three seconds of peacefully wearing it before a bright light envelops me and I squeeze my eyes shut with surprise. 

When the light disappears, a tiny floating Raven is in front of my face, warbling at the top of his lungs.

"AND YOU CAN HOLD MEEEEEEEEEE — LIKE HE HELD HER—- AND I WILL FORK YOUUUUUU — LIKE NOTHING MATTERS—AHHHHHH—" 

Before he can cluck another word I shush the strange bird. "Do you want my Mom to hear you?" 

The Raven side eyes me, if Raven's can side eye. 

They can. 

Thank you for that helpful comment, Chat fucking Noir. 

I'll fuck you if you want. 

I tune out his voice. 

"Hey girl," the Raven says, lifting a wing. "I'm Vector, the Raven Kwami, and I'm so faxing happy that you let me out of that fliffly no-good, good-for-nothing necklace." 

"Faxing? Can Kwami's not swear?" 

"No, biotch we can't," he rolls his raven eyes, if raven's can roll their eyes. "Beach, don't act like you're new here." 

"...I am new here." 

"Y/N! Get off the phone and let's go!" Mom yells from downstairs. 

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Vector," I say to the strange bird. "I guess you're coming to the fashion show with me." 

"Oh honey no, you're not wearing that to a fashion show." 

Approximately ten seconds later, I'm changed into a Vector approved outfit. "That's tons better, don't you think?" 

I nod in surprised agreement. 

_

It's crowded, and the smell of warm bodies meandering a stuffy hallway is starting to irritate my head further. My head is still pounding, and the feeling that I'm forgetting something is still itchy in my brain. There's only one thing that could scratch that itch, but he's admittedly not here. 

"I'm going to go check out the merch," Mom says, tapping me on the shoulder before she disappears around the corner. 

"Mom!" 

I lose her in the crowd amongst a group of bougie teens wearing all Agreste brand clothing. Like I could afford to pay millions of dollars for one jacket. 

I see Adrien now, strutting his tail feathers on the model runway. Standing next to him, half draped on him like some kind of strange and obscurely dressed prostitute, is none other than Lila Liar. 

She's wearing a beaded thing that mostly covers her chest and is fit to her tall impressive form. In her six inch heels, Lila stands taller than Adrien, which makes me wonder if they were trying to dress her like a dominatrix or something equally as disgustingly kinky. Her leather heels coil up her legs, and her skirt is barely touching her upper thigh. 

I blink. Are those...cat ears? Lila's donning something of a domestic animal look, with leather cat ears and heavy eye makeup. 

This whole fashion show experience was beginning to feel like a fever dream. 

Adrien doesn't look much better, with his open suit to demonstrate his startlingly impressive abs. Was it really his father who dressed him? He paces irritably, or maybe he's playing an angsty adolescent model. It looks like he's trying to evade Lila's eager hands. 

The audience seems to like it. Even more disturbing. 

Adrien's hands are shoved deep into his pockets, and his laid back stance adds to the whole mood. His hair, which is still messy to the degree of lazy, gives him the impression of being too cool for this. 

His eyes meet mine in the crowd, and the hint of a smirk turns up the corner of his lips. The audience cheers as the two models turn, walking back up the aisle. Probably to change into something even worse. 

I pace away, unimpressed and definitely unamused by their performance. 

On my way to the bathroom, I take a wrong turn, ending up in...a tunnel? The sign must've been wrong. 

I walk towards what appears to be the exit, but end up in a place that's much darker. 

Before I can take one more step forward, a hand grips my shoulder —