Work Text:
We're damaged people
Drawn together
By subtleties that we are not aware of
The day had begun as usual for Chat Blanc. He had run several laps across Paris, grunting from the effort during particularly long jumps between buildings that were still visible above the water. Then he had returned to his residence on the Montparnasse Tower roof. Chat Blanc sat at the black baby grand piano that he had brought here in the first month of his “new life” and started playing his favorite melodies. It had been challenging at first with his claws, but over time he got the hang of it.
Chat Blanc established this routine to keep at least a small part of him sane. He needed a distraction from his horrifying reality. Something that reminded him of old, happy times.
But the rest of his day went differently. He was playing and mumbling “Little kitty on the roof” when he heard a weird sound. He turned back abruptly and gasped. A portal opened in front of him. A figure in a blue and white suit shoved another person through it. The girl fell face-first, and the portal was closed before either of them recovered from the initial shock.
Chat Blanc narrowed his eyes, examining the girl’s appearance. He couldn’t see her face, but two pigtails and spots (albeit in reversed colors) were enough to spike his memory. “I-Is that you, M’lady?” he asked, cautiously approaching her. “I thought I’d lost you.”
She lifted her head and looked at him with brown eyes. Only then he fully realized that something was definitely wrong. “Yo-you…” he stammered.
“Miss Fortune,” she grumbled, scrambling up to sit. “And I thought I’d lost you too.”
Disturbed souls
Playing out forever
These games that we once thought we would be scared of
Chat Blanc crouched beside her, and she began recounting her story. It turned out that things in their worlds had been similar and yet different. That Ladybug had discovered Chat’s identity first, but had kept it to herself, afraid of ruining the fragile balance. The tension had built up gradually, fueled by the burdens of guardianship and the many demands of real life. One night, after a spat with Chat Noir over something insignificant, she had broken down. Her partner had failed to cataclysm the akuma before it had landed on her yo-yo. As he'd been the closest to her, he'd become the first victim of Miss Fortune's rage.
Chat Blanc shuddered, imagining all of that in detail. Unlike his world, where people had died immediately under the wave of ultimate destruction, in hers Chat Noir and other citizens had suffered a lot, tortured by bad luck’s creations.
When you're in my arms
The world makes sense
There is no pretence
And you're crying
When Miss Fortune finished her story, she started crying. Big tears rolled down her cheeks; her lower lip was quivering; words were stuttered in an uneven pattern between short gasps. Out of instinct, Chat Blanc scooted closer and hesitantly wrapped his arms around her.
She stiffened momentarily, and he freaked out for a minute. She wasn’t his Lady; he just met this girl and knew nothing of her boundaries. He started to withdraw, but she freed her arms that had been pressed between their chests and wrapped them tightly around his torso. He also tightened his grip on her. She started sobbing again, her body shaking uncontrollably.
Chat Blanc let her cry as long as she needed. He knew better than anyone else that it was a perfectly normal reaction to their insane circumstances.
When you're by my side
There is no defence
I forget to sense I'm dying
Miss Fortune felt a little more at ease. This world was so bright, albeit cold and flooded. But she preferred it to the dark, rotten cemetery her universe had become. She had already forgotten how it was to see the daylight and enjoy it. How it felt to be in her Kitty’s arms. Warm. Comfortable. Soothing. Safe.
Chat Blanc’s embrace felt exactly the same at this moment, even though he was the same cold-hearted, tainted villain as her. She snuggled closer, pressing her cheek to the cool white leather and listening to his erratic heartbeat.
Maybe there was something warm left untouched deep inside him.
As well as in her.
We're damaged people
Praying for something
That doesn't come from somewhere deep inside us
It was his turn to confess his sins. Chat Blanc took a pause, pondering how to explain it to his new worldmate as fast and precise as he could.
He thought about his lonely months, reliving all the cold and despair again. It had been seeping further through his suit and skin, numbing his mind and soul. He fought back, fiercely protecting the memories of his happiest days with Marinette by his side. But they had been slowly dissipating with time, as had done his Ladybug. She had crumbled to dust when he had touched her form after his destructional outburst.
This girl, the embodiment of bad luck and punishing karma, who wore a mispainted suit and had different eyes, awoke something unexpected in him. Something that he hadn’t felt for a long time. Was it… hope? Desire to feel alive?
Depraved souls
Trusting in the one thing
The one thing that this life has not denied us
She listened to his memories about his Marinette, about a life that she had never had. All that she remembered was only fearful kisses on the cheeks, cuddles after patrols, and the unresolved romantic tension between her and her partner. As well as the longing and the all-consuming fear that everything would be discovered and somehow used against them.
She failed to confess her love to her Chat Noir. But then the universe had thrown her in this ruined world in the arms of the boy who was equally damaged. Was it the last opportunity to make things right? Maybe she could heal this broken soul and warm up this world again, resolving her own trauma in the process.
When I feel the warmth of your very soul
I forget I'm cold
And crying
Miss Fortune lifted her head from Chat Blanc’s chest and met his eyes. Just then, she realized how different from her Chat Noir’s image they had been. Two frozen droplets of cold water that surrounded them, full of insanity and grief. However there was also warmth flickering deep inside them. So inviting. So familiar.
She had seen the same expression in green eyes framed by a black mask. A hint of adoration, an unspoken plea, a promise he couldn’t keep.
It urged her to lean forward and press her lips to his.
When your lips touch mine
And I lose control
I forget I'm old
And dying
At first, Chat Blanc wasn’t responding, being caught off guard. For a moment, Miss Fortune feared she had made a mistake and now he would tear her to shreds. But his lips were already moving, and he kissed her back; hungrily and desperately as if she was going to disappear any minute. She pressed closer, leaving no space between them, sharing the last tidbits of warmth.
They pulled away, breathing heavily, and pressed their foreheads together. “My Lady,” Chat Blanc whispered; his warm breath fanning at her lips. She shivered involuntarily, still not quite convinced that he was real. “I was afraid that I'd never see you again. Please, don’t leave me.”
A small smile formed on her lips. “I have nowhere else to be anyway.” She kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear. “My magic can’t fix everything this time, but we will make this world liveable for us, I promise.”