Chapter 1: How It Began
Notes:
This chapter has been edited. It does not have anything important you have to read if you read it before I edited it.
For new people, I hope you like this chapter.
Please comment :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Damian and Marinette al Ghul were not happy.
The twins had just witnessed half of the League of Shadows turn on them and join Slade, their grandfather's trusted bodyguard. It was now that the two were dueling with the highly trained assassin on the balcony after they saw him stab their grandfather in the chest.
“How could you!” Marinette screamed as she swung her katana at Slade's midsection.
“We don’t have to fight like this, little one.” Slade said, trying to reason with the 10 year old Marinette.
Marinette was as different from Damian as one could be, being twins. Marinette never liked the League, opposed to her brother who dreamed of ruling it. She may have grown up in it, but she was the most human out of all the assassins, hence the reason Slade was trying to reason with her.
Marinette was kind, caring and sweet; all the things you didn’t want in an assassin. Her skin was fairly pale, and her eyes were a brilliant blue. She looked innocent. Which was why she was trained to go undercover.
The only problem was, she refused to kill. No matter what consequences she faced, she did not end another’s life.
If he was being honest, Slade was scared for his life. The sweetheart he had always known looked so ready to kill him in that moment that the resemblance to her brother was uncanny.
She looked ready to kill.
More specifically, him.
It happened so fast that neither twin could remember the sequence that led up to the point. One minute Slade was practically at their mercy, the next he was in a helicopter with Marinette who was desperately trying to get away.
“Damian!” Marinette screamed.
“Marinette!” He screamed back.
They reached for each other in a hopeless attempt to stay together. They didn’t want to be apart. The helicopters started to take off as Marinette stuck her hand out for her brother’s. Their fingertips brushed against each other before the helicopter rose for the final time and she was pulled in as Slade shut the door quickly.
“No!”
Damian fell to his knees as he watched it fly off, with the man that killed his grandfather and his beloved twin sister.
For the first time in a long while, Damian felt tears prick his eyes. He always thought of it as a sign of weakness to cry, or perhaps his sister was right. ‘Tears show you are human,’ she would always say, ‘that you have a soul. It is only right to cry at the darkest moments of your life.’
Tears streamed freely at this point. His sister, the only light in his life, the thing that made sure he still had a bit of humanity left, was gone with a man who would surely kill her. He would never see her smile, hear her laugh, see her eyes, hear her voice again.
His Angel would now reside with the others, the ones too good for this earth and would be taken too soon from it.
---
Marinette sat still, grounded in her seat thinking.
She would not die today, no, she would live. She needed a plan. And she needed to think quick.
Slade sat in the co-pilot seat after he had handcuffed her to her chair in the back. Every now and then he would glance back at her, making sure she didn’t try anything.
One cuff on each hand. Hard to crack, yes. Didn’t mean she would fail.
Her eyes were darting around, looking for anything that she could use. She needed a way out. If she undid the cuffs without a plan, that would be suicide.
There! Under the back of the pilot's seat. It stuffed so far in that it was almost unnoticeable. But, there sat the unmistakable tag of a parachute backpack.
Her eyes moved again, the door was sealed tight. The round lock looked like a wheel, and she prayed to every god she could think of that it was unlocked. If not, she could kiss her life behind.
She twitched her finger ever so slightly. A small wire stashed in her sleeve fell out and landed into her palm. She did the same for her other hand. As quickly and quietly as she could, she began to pick the locks confining her.
It was more difficult than she imagined. Slade has surely stepped up his game.
Eventually, she heard the two practically silent clicks that told her she had succeeded.
Time to go.
She lunged forward before Sade even registered what happened and grabbed the bag, swinging the door open as she did so. It was unlocked and remarkably loose as well.
“See yeah, Slade.” She sung; fell backwards out of the open hatch and into the open sky.
---
It was 5 days ago that Marinette had escaped the League and had landed on a lavender field in France.
Two days ago, Marinette snuck onto a train heading for Paris.
A day ago, Marinette read the headlines of the newest Justice League battle involving Slade.
Now, Marinette had still not made contact with the League.
Personally, she didn’t want to go back to the assassins, but Damian was there. She needed to find him.
That was a fact.
She didn’t know where he was or where to go. She was on her own.
It was currently a busy day on the streets of Paris. She was walking by a press conference where people pushed and shoved to get through the crowded sidewalk. She can vaguely remember reading about a young model, (Agreste?) making the front page with the Mayor's daughter.
The reporters and bloggers weren’t by any means gentle. Not even for a small child like herself. She had somehow managed to avoid losing her balance between the moving feet and camera flashes.
Suddenly, she was roughly shoved to the side. Her palms stung briefly from gravel. There was a harsh scream. Quick shouts of:
“Look out!”
“Move!”
“Stop the car!”
Before her mind could make sense of it, there was a loud honk of a car horn.
The last thing she saw was the bright headlights of a car coming straight at her.
Notes:
Any grammatical errors will be fixed if you comment them.
Chapter 2: Moving in
Notes:
So I decided I will finish this story. I didn't expect all of you to love it so much. I though maybe I'll get 5 kudos overall. But here we are with almost 100 only three days after I posted. I'll try and update every week. I aim for at least once but if I get really excided and/or impatient it may come out early. If I'm late I swear I'll make it up! I do plan on making my chapters longer. The first will be the shortest. I'm just waiting to get to the good part. This chapter is a little longer than the last one.
Please comment :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Damian had never thought of himself as weak. He was the heir to the Demon’s head. Son of Talia al Ghul, grandson of Ra's al Ghul.
But here, on his knees, tears racing down his cheeks like waterfalls. He felt useless.
He should have done something!
He could have saved her!
He should have been quicker!
His body shook with sobs. He didn’t care that his cries of anguish were easily heard. He wouldn’t have cared if someone found him here. He wouldn’t have cared if they struck him down with their sword.
He wouldn’t have cared.
After what felt like an eternity, the voice of his mother called out: “Damian? Marinette? We need to get out of here!”
Damian stayed in his hunched position where Talia found him a few minutes later.
“Damian? Stop crying at once! There’s no point in tears. The League has fallen. Your grandfather is dead. You and your sister are going to live with your father. Where is Marinette?”
Damian just cried harder.
“Damian, where is your sister?”
Damian somehow was able to get enough air to respond. “She-She-She.”
“Spit it out.”
“She’s g-gone. S-S-Slade-de t-t-took her.”
“Shit.” Talia swore. Talia pulled Damian onto his feet by his arm. He wobbled on shaky legs. “Get up. You’re going to live with your father, while I gather the remaining Shadows to take down Slade. We do not have time to mourn.”
Talia pulled Damian by the hand out of the compound, away from the balcony.
---
After several days of traveling, Talia left him behind a red curtain. Their boat was docked at Gotham harbor, the ground swaying slightly with the tide.
Damian knew they could have made it to Gotham in only a day. He hoped Talia had taken the extra days to let him compose himself. Not just because since the League had fallen, it was imperative they travel off the grid.
He heard his mother speaking to his father in the other room. He tried to ignore their conversation, keeping an ear out for when he would be called.
Talia had made it clear that he was not to speak a word of his twin while in the custody of his father. He wasn’t sure he would be able to without breaking down anyways.
His stomach turned at the thought of meeting his father. Marinette and him had little to no information about their birth father. Damian had never particularly minded. He knew Marinette had taken every chance she could to inquire about the man. She was only ever told that Damian had his chin and Marinette had his eyes.
Damian breathed deeply. Would the man like him? Would he have liked Marinette? Damian would be representing him and his sister. He had to make a good first impression.
“Just be yourself.” Damian looked at the ghostly image of his sister next to him. “If he doesn’t like you, screw him.”
Damian smiled faintly. He knew, logically, she wasn’t real. It hurt every time he had to remind himself of the fact.
“You’ve got this, Dami.”
The curtain pulled back with a flourish from Talia. Marinette faded in an instant, making Damian feel even more alone.
Damian’s eyes landed on his father. Bruce Wayne wore the Batman suit, minus the cowl. Damian’s face turned down in a scowl.
He could see it now. Damian looked like a carbon copy of a younger Bruce Wayne, with green eyes and tan skin. Marinette had taken after their mother’s softer features, though she had lighter skin like their father. Even with the changes, they had still looked like siblings.
There was an unsettling feeling of his father’s gaze.
He had Marinette’s eyes.
But, no.
His eyes were colder, slightly greyer, no sparkle.
It made his throat tighten and his chest burn.
“This, Bruce, is your child. Your son.”
Talia said it like he was the only one. Like Bruce hadn't adopted others. Like Damian wasn’t half of a set.
Like Marinette wasn’t dead.
She said it like Marinette had never existed.
“Don’t look so surprised, Father. I thought you’d be taller.”
---
Father and him looked out at Gotham harbor as Talia drove the boat away. It was a remote part of the harbor, barely anyone went there. Batman wore his cowl, but wasn’t afraid anyone would see them together.
Mother said she would return for him. Once she did, he could find Slade and make him regret ever looking at his sister.
“I’ll drive.”
“No.”
“I know how.”
“You’re 10.”
---
The Batmobile pulled up into the Cave. Damian and Batman climbed out without making a sound. There were two young men in the cave as well as an older gentleman. They turned to look at them with hesitation.
“B, who’s that?” one of the men asked. He was of average height, strong build, and hair that seemed slightly too long. He wore a skin tight black suit with a royal blue bird symbol on his chest that extended down his arms.
Richard Grayson, eldest ward of Bruce Wayne.
Nightwing.
Batman ignored the question. “Alfred, would you mind preparing a bedroom for Damian.”
The man with thinning grey hair wearing a crisply pressed suit nodded slightly.
“B?” the other man asked. He was the shortest, small but strong, and his hair almost reached his chin. He wore baggy sweats and sat at the Batcomputer with a mug of coffee.
Timothy Drake, the newest ward of Bruce Wayne.
The current and 3rd Robin.
After a moment of silence when it became clear Batman had no intention of answering, Damian jumped in.
“I am his only blood son.”
The young men’s eyes widened as they glanced at Batman.
“Alfred, if you should show Damian to a guest bedroom, it would be appreciated.”
---
Damian lied on his back, staring at the ceiling. He had been given some spare clothes that were much too big on him to sleep in, while his clothes he had arrived in would be cleaned by the morning.
The room was painted grey, with grey sheets and an abstract painting on the wall that looked like something from a cheap hotel room. The room was dimly lit by the lamp on the bedside table.
Damian groaned, sinking further into the soft queen size bed. He wasn’t sure if sleep would come at all today. This place was unfamiliar, and he hadn’t slept well since it happened.
Marinette and Damian were always encouraged to separate, never too rely too heavily on one another. However, they were also taught to trust one another, since they had been allies since birth.
Talia had wanted them to have their own bedroom, but after only a few months of restless sleep and sneaking into each other's, she had them move into a large room with a curtain to divide them. They would have privacy, and could still be close to one another.
The twins had barely used the curtain, usually only for changing clothes. They preferred to sleep within eyesight of each other. Always have someone guarding their back.
“They seem nice.” Marinette said softly. She lay next to him on the large bed, staring at the ceiling as well.
Damian turned his head at her. He ignored the part of his brain telling him that she wasn’t real. That she wasn’t there. That she was gone.
“Nice isn’t what I’m concerned about.” he said.
Marinette looked into his eyes. “It will help make the situation more bearable.”
“I suppose.”
Marinette frowned slightly. “Things will get better.”
“How can you know that, Angel?” The nickname felt heavy and sad. Now too literal to feel the same as it once had.
“I don’t.”
“Exactly.”
“But I can be optimistic.”
“You have always been far too cheerful.” Damian smiled for the first time since that day.
Marinette laughed softly. “So, what do you think of the big bad bat as our father?”
Damian shrugged. “He seems worthy of our bloodline.”
“He had to have done something right to have earned mother’s attention.”
“Mother would only choose someone of great potential to father her children.”
“Don’t you think it’s just hilarious. Talia al Ghul, daughter of the Demon's Head, and Bruce Wayne, Batman, the crime fighter. I wonder how they got together.”
“Does it matter.”
“No. I suppose not. It just seems funny to me.”
“The poetic irony is rather amusing.” Damian felt his eyes begin to droop.
“I wonder if he would let us join him. Out on the streets of Gotham fighting crime. I’m not sure if it would be something you’d be interested in.”
“You never know.” Damian yawned.
“I would love to be Batgirl. You could be Robin. We’d kick criminals asses together.”
Damian's words slurred together slightly. “Sounds nice.”
Marinette smiled softly. “You should get some rest.”
“I will be fine.”
“You’ve barely slept the past few day’s. Don’t think I haven't noticed.”
“Will… Will you...” Damian trailed off as his eyes began to close. “Will you be here when I wake up?”
Marinette grinned widely like the sun. “Where else would I be?”
Notes:
What did you think? If any of the characters seem ooc, it's because I do not have as much knowledge about these characters as other writers do. I'm trying though.
For those of you who want to know what happened to Marinette, it's coming next chapter. I just felt like everything would come together better if you knew Damian's point of view.
I have also never lost a sibling, so I have no idea how hard it would be. If you have any pointers, feel free to comment them if you are comfortable.
And our poor Demon Spawn is sad!!!
His grief will get worse before it gets better.Any grammatical or spelling errors will be fixed if you comment them.
Stay safe!
Chapter 3: Dear Diary
Notes:
Remember what I said about being impatient.
Yeah, I'm being impatient.
This is Marinette's chapter. It's a bit of a filler. The first part of this story will focus more on Damian's point of view. It won't last forever. And some of of my future chapter may seemed rushed, but that's because I REALLY want to get to when they're older and things get more interesting.
Damian will not be having a Nice time in the next few chapters. This one is mostly happy.
Thank you for all your positive feedback.
You're comments mean soooo much to me. I absolutely love them.
Please comment :)
And I can't use Italic for some reason. If you can help me I would be thankful.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Dear Diary,
My name is Marinette. Or, at least, I think it is.
My therapist gave me this journal to write down how I’m feeling, any memories I may have, or just how my day went.
About a week ago, I woke up in a hospital room. Naturally, I panicked. A nurse had to sedate me because I was hurting the injuries I don’t remember getting. I woke up a few hours after that, without panicking.
Everyone's words seemed strangely foreign and slow, and my head hurt trying to understand.
Dr Martin explained I had been in an accident. A news reporter trying to get to the front of a crowd accidentally pushed me onto the street. He said I was hit by a car and taken to the hospital.
He asked me my name and where my parents were.
My words came out in a different language. One I thought effortlessly in.
Dr Martin looked surprised and asked if I knew any French. My head hurt speaking it and it came out slow as I thought.
I told him I couldn’t remember anything.
They called in a doctor who spoke Arabic fluently. Apparently, that’s what I had spoken in.
There was a police officer who asked useless questions on if I remembered anything. They checked missing person’s reports and took DNA tests, all of which hit a dead end.
A social worker came in two days ago. She said that I’m going to a foster home until they can find my parents. They’re a french couple who own a bakery. My room would be above the bakery on the top floor.
I heard her whispering with the police officer. She said she didn’t know if I would be a good fit for a family, since I will currently need special care. She brought up my scars. The ones that run across my entire body. Slashes, burns, dots that look like bullets.
The officer said that they suspect I was running from someone. Most likely the ones that gave me my marks. They believe that to be my parents.
I had cried in the bathroom until a nurse found me and tucked me in to sleep.
The doctors let me examine the items I had when I was brought to the hospital. They hoped it may trigger some of my memories. A bloody unicorn t-shirt and purple pants didn’t do me much good. There were a few euros and a pocket knife as well.
The police were very interested in the weapon.
There was also a bracelet. It’s thin, with jade beads with little silver beads between them. There were engravings on some of them. The letters that spelt a name.
Marinette
It tickled my brain with an uncomfortable feeling. Like I should know the meaning, but I don't.
Dr Martin said it may be my name, and I like being referred to as that.
A nurse helped me clip on my bracelet, putting in on one of the first loops of the chain so it does not slip off.
He also said my memories could come back. He had looked at me with a worried smile as he said that.
I know what he really means.
They are more than likely gone forever.
I’m not sure how I feel about that. I’ve been cooped up in a hospital room for a week. I’ve had plenty of time to think.
I think I’m angry. Angry that the police haven’t found my family. Angry that my family don’t seem to be looking for me either. Angry that the police may be right. Angry that I will soon be moving in with strangers.
I’m also sad. I know very little about Paris. I can’t speak French very well. I don’t know anyone except for the adults who had to visit me. I have no idea what is going to happen to me.
There’s an overwhelming feeling of loneliness that makes me feel like I'm drowning and can't breathe. As though part of myself is missing.
I’m scared.
Marinette”
---
The little blue car the bakers owned pulled up to the curb of Marinette’s new home. Tom and Sabine got out quickly. Tom collected the small bag of belongings Marinette had from before the accident from the trunk. Sabine quickly scrambled to the side of the car to help Marinette out.
Marinette looked at the patisserie. She held her crutches firmly in her hands. Dr Martin had said that when she hit her head, it may have injured her brain enough that she would have trouble with balance for the rest of her life. It had taken a three hour argument to let her leave with only crutches instead of in a wheelchair.
Marinette’s injuries had vastly improved over her hospital stay. The doctors said she had a high pain tolerance. Her ankle was twisted, two of her ribs fractured, and about 4 fingers broken. They had said they were healing nicely. Walking was still painful and uncomfortable (not like she was ever going to admit that).
“Welcome home, Marinette.” Sabine smiled nervously.
The couple had been nervous since the first time Marinette had laid eyes on them. It must have been because she was their first (and what they hoped to be only) foster child. It was still unclear whether or not her parent’s would be found.
Marinette had overheard her social worker telling the couple that if the next year went well and they still had not found her parents, they would discuss adoption.
It gave her mixed feelings.
Sabine led Marinette inside through the back entrance, which led directly to the apartment above the bakery. Tom trailed behind, spotting Marinette on the staircase and bringing her bag.
Sabine Cheng was a French-Chinese woman. Sabine was barely taller than Marinette, but she could tell that she was the type of woman who would not take any crap.
Her husband, Tom Dupain was a French-Italian man. Tom looked like a bodybuilder, tall and wide. As intimidating as he looked, Marinette could only think of him as a large teddy bear.
After a painful two flights of stairs (because Marinette would do it on her own, Tom. She did not need to be carried.), Marinette made it through the trap door to what clearly had been an attic.
The windows were open, eliminating musty air she knew would have been there. There were old boxes stacked against the wall. A bunk bed sat in the corner, above was a skylight she assumed led to the balcony Tom and Sabine had told her about.
“This is your room. I know it’s not much. We’ll have the boxes moved into storage and you can decorate however you want.” Tom said.
Marinette nodded.
“Do you need help with anything, dear?” inquired Sabine.
Marinette shook her head.
The adults seemed to fumble for a moment, not sure what to say.
“Could I just settle in? Alone.”
The bakers nodded and quickly left the attic, shutting the trap door behind them.
Marinette sighed. She propped her crutches against the nightstand before flopping onto the mattress. She hissed in pain, but made no movement otherwise.
She stared at the bunk above her. So this was her new home. The couple seemed nice enough. She would have shelter, food, and water.
What more could she ask for?
Marinette fiddled with the bracelet on her wrist. The chain was clasped on one of the first holes to fit her wrist. She could just adjust it as she gets older.
The stones were green. A nurse told her they were jade. It didn’t feel right though. They felt heavier. Smoother than stone should be.
Though, Marinette wasn’t exactly an expert.
She sat up, grabbed her diary from her bag, and laid back down. She flicked through the already growing number of filled pages before stopping at a blank one. She uncapped her sparkly pink gel pen before she began to write.
“Dear Diary,
My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”
Notes:
Next chapter belongs to Damian. I don't plan on going back and forth between their POV's. I'm getting to the good stuff ;)
DO NOT GET USED TO ME PUBLISHING SO FREQUENTLY!!!
I'm impatient and thought some of your comments would give me encouragement on a future chapter I'm kind of stuck on.
So Marinette is ok, Damian is not.
The twins will both have their moments in this story. I'm letting Marinette have a breather before Hawkmoth shows up. She'll be grateful.
Next chapter is not going to be Nice for Damian.
I also love your comments!
Please comment!
It makes me so happy!
Grammatical and spelling errors will be fixed if you tell me.
Please comment :)
Chapter 4: Deathstroke
Notes:
Ok, I'm going to go to my previous chapters and edit them. You do not need to read it. I'm not changing the story. I'm just stupid and only just relized how to use Italic.
This is the promised Damian chapter.
It's one of the chapter's where Damian will be having a better time in before I get to the good stuff ;)
Does not mean he will ne happy.
I'm not great a fight scenes so it might seem a little choppy.
Thank you for all your Kudos and comments!
Please comment!
It makes me feel so happy.
Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Damian found out Slade was in Gotham.
The Wayne family had been avoiding him like the plague all week. With the exception of Alfred. Damian had been heading to the Batcave to seek out Bruce, on Marinette's advice.
“You and our father definitely have something in common. You’re both emotionally constipated. Man up and go talk to him!” She had been repeating that all week.
Since Damian was petty, he had ignored Marinette’s opinion. Until it had felt like the seclusion had become unbearable.
In the League, he had seen other people walking around. So far, he had caught a glance at each of the men he had seen in the Cave only once. Alfred popped in and out of places. They made small talk that border-lined aggressive. Damian was aware he wasn’t the easiest person to get along with.
That’s why his sister was always the lead on undercover missions. She could make people fall in love with her so fast, they didn’t even care about Damian’s rough demeanor.
Talking to people seemed infinitely harder as well.
Batman hadn’t noticed Damian on the stairwell. Only thanks to growing up in the League of Assassins.
The Batcomputer screens were filled with images and reports on Deathstroke. Just seeing his face filled Damian with rage. The article in the center of the screen was printed by the familiar Gotham Gazette.
Published a day ago.
Slade was in Gotham.
Slade was going to be killed.
---
Damian made most of his actions off of logic and reason. This, was by far, his stupidest idea yet.
Damian had taken an old Robin costume from deep in the cave, and took to the streets. It hadn’t taken long to hack the Batcomputer and discover Slade had moved out of Gotham earlier in the day.
So, naturally, Damian took a boat. Not his. He was sure Robin would receive some bad press in the coming days. Not that he cared.
It had also taken roughly three hours of sailing to set eyes on the massive base located in the middle of the ocean. He had to abandon ship and swim once he was within half a mile, as not to be seen.
The Robin utility belt was nice enough to include a rebreather.
---
Boom!
Damian’s ear’s rang.
Boom!
The walls shook.
---
“Damian!” Talia yelled.
His mother was here?
---
“Where are you!”
Crash!
Batman had arrived.
Boom!
Damian turned in the opposite direction and ran.
---
The boiler rooms were stifling hot.
Damian’s sweat dripped onto the floor. “Come out and face me you coward!”
There was a chuckle and Slade jumped down into the catwalk in front of Damian.
“I’m not hiding from anyone.”
Damian screamed in rage and lunged forward. His sword met the other with a loud clang.
Slade slashed at Damian’s ribs. A thin cut and trickle of blood peeked through the old Robin costume.
“You’re not so strong without your sister, are you?” Slade taunted.
Damian swung forward again and barely managed to avoid a lethal blow to the head. He landed on his back with Slade’s sword ready at his chest.
“Where is your dear twin anyways.”
Damian rolled and stabbed his sword straight into Slade’s eye. Slade stumbled back with a cry.
If It had sunk just an inch more, Deathstroke would be dead.
“She’s dead, you harlot! You killed her!”
If Slade hadn’t been in so much pain, his face would have portrayed his confusion. He didn’t have much time to think on the matter, since Damian had swung again.
Anger fueled Damian, and with Slade’s impaired vision, he fell back. Deathstroke’s jacket caught on one of the boilers.
Damian stood over his body, his sword at his throat. They just stared at each other, neither moving.
“No, Damian.” Marinette said.
She stood behind Slade, within Damian’s eyesight enough that he didn’t need to turn his head. She was different from the other times Damian had seen her.
She was always happy, ready to cheer him up.
Now, she looked concerned.
No.
She looked scared.
“He’s not worth it, Damian.”
Her clothes were different too. He had always seen her in casual clothes. The ones she would wear undercover. She always preferred them. She would wear them in her down time as well.
She seemed happier then.
This time she was dressed in her League suit. Black Kevlar pants and turtleneck shirt. Tall combat boots and small daggers strapped to her thighs. A bow staff was strapped to her back, where he had put his sword.
“You’re better than this.”
Her pants were shredded, her sleeves torn. Her knees and elbows dripped with blood. Her boots were scuffed and caked with mud. Her black gloves she had never left on a mission without were gone, exposing her palms, scrapped and shaking.
“I know you’re better than this.”
Her usually neat hair was in a frazzled mess. Strands stuck out to frame her face. Small cuts littered her body. Scratches across her cheeks and forehead shone red.
“Don’t stoop to his level.”
Her eyes were watery. Her lips and chin trembled.
“I don’t need to be avenged.”
A tear traced her cheek.
The clanging of boots hitting metal echoed in the room. Damian didn’t look, but he knew their mother and father were on the catwalk above them. Watching them.
“You don’t need to do this, Damian.”
“Think about your grandfather, Damian.”
“You don’t need to kill him.”
“Think about who he killed.”
Talia’s and Bruce’s voices mixed together.
“Damian.” His hand shook. “I’m ok. And so are you. Be better than him. Be better than our mother. Be better than our grandfather. Because we’re both ok. We don’t need this.”
Damian blinked his watering eyes.
“I don’t need this.”
Damian threw his sword down on the catwalk with a clang.
The silence was deafening. He turned and started running out of the building. He was smart enough to know the building was going to blow.
He heard his mother’s yell of anger.
His tear soaked into the green mask.
His father ran alongside him. Damian could feel his gaze.
He ignored it.
---
“I’m proud of you.” Marinette’s words filled the quiet room. Even though they had been barely more than a whisper.
Damian had his blankets over his head. Hiding in his bed. Marinette laid across from him, also under the blankets.
Alfred had given Damian stitches. Dick and Tim had spoken few words. Bruce had placed a hand on his shoulder, looked at him, and walked away.
“Why.” Damian whispered, teary eyed.
“Because you didn’t let your anger get the better of you.”
“But it almost did.” Damian’s voice cracked.
“But it didn’t.” Marinette placed a hand on his cheek. It felt warm and comforting, as well as faint and cold. “You didn’t kill him, Damian. You stood up to mother. Something I know frightened you. You did it, Damian. You’re so much stronger than you ever let yourself believe.”
“You have always been the strong one. You never let people tell you what to do. You always protect me. More than I have ever been able to protect you.”
Marinette smiled. “You don’t need my protection. You’re strong enough on your own.”
“Why does that feel like you’re saying goodbye?” Damian sobbed.
“I’m not, dear Brother. You just don’t need me like you used to.”
“I love you, Angel.”
“I love you too, Brother.”
“Will you be here when I wake up? Please?”
“Nowhere else I’d be.”
Notes:
I hoped you enjoyed that chapter.
So I figured out how to use Italic and will go back and add them to previous chapters. You don't need to read them since nothing really changes.
Also, do you notice how Damian is using present tense when he talks to Marinette.
He hasn't excepted her death yet.
This will not be the last time we see Talia. She will return and play an important part in Damian's grieving prosses.
I also want to know if you want a Marinette chap or a Damian chap next. Damian will have more chapters in the first part of the story, so Marinette's chap will basically be it until she get's her Miraculous.
Please comment!
Seriously, the more comments make me more motivated to post sooner.
Please comment :)
Chapter 5: Things were Never Perfect, were they?
Notes:
Ok, it's been a long week, but I'm back!!!!
Holidays are coming up and I plan to publish more then. No Promises though!
Thank you for your comment on the last chapter. I think you guys like Damian's chapters more than Marinette's so you're getting a Damian chap.
You may of may not have noticed that I added some tags to this story. I'm still on the fence about adding some more.
Hope you like this chapter!
Please comment :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Marinette, you will leave in the morning.” Talia said.
“But Mother-”
“Not another word. You will leave, in the morning.”
Talia walked down the wall, hair swishing. Marinette looked about ready to cry. Damian held her hand.
“You’ll come back, right?”
Marinette looked at him with glistening eyes. “Yeah,” she sniffed. “I will.”
---
Damian woke up to an empty bed across from him. The sheets were tucked perfectly in the corners, not a wrinkle in sight.
Damian had dressed his 4-year-old body and got to training. Training on how to climb a mountain.
Training Marinette did not receive.
They must have been more confident in her.
---
Damian went to bed, staring at the empty room.
He’d climb in only a few short days.
He would be given ropes, axes, and blankets.
---
Damian went to bed on the second night.
The empty feeling had only grown.
He noticed the backpack that would have all the equipment was laying at the end of Marinette’s bed.
She must have forgotten it.
---
The third night, Damian simply laid awake.
He stared out the window of their room, praying to see his sister.
His mother found him curled up in a blanket when he was late to training.
---
At dinner, on the fourth night of Marinette gone, an assassin came rushing in.
Ra’s had looked at him in disgust. Talia sneered. Damian didn’t look up at all.
“I’m sorry, sir. But Marinette al Ghul has just arrived at the gates.”
Damian’s head snapped up.
“Where is she!” Ra’s had demanded.
His tone was off. Ra’s had never spoken to Damian like that. It confused him.
It almost sounded like he was angry. But that wouldn’t make sense.
“The medical wing, sir.”
---
Damian hadn’t been allowed to see her on the fifth night.
Talia and Ra’s had said she may give him an unfair advantage if she told him about the trail.
Damian was angry.
---
Damian made good progress by the sixth night.
His trek of the mountain was going well. He’d crossed miles and if he continued his pace, he would return in three days.
---
By the seventh night, Damian’s loneliness had only grown.
He shivered in a small sleeping bag.
His sorry excuse of a fire didn’t provide nearly as much warmth as he needed.
He wondered how his sister had survived.
---
On the eighth night, Damian nursed his blistered hands by a small stream.
He had begun his journey down.
Tomorrow, he would sleep in a real bed without dry leaves and broken branches.
---
By the time the sun had begun to set on the ninth night, Damian was staggering with every step.
He could see the League base.
So close.
The lights glowed warm and he could practically smell the cooked food.
His stomach growled after only living off of dried jerky and wild berries for the past few days.
His knees wobbled unsteadily.
He had just touched the massive red gates of the compound when his fatigue won him over.
He fell into darkness before he hit the ground.
---
Talia would not allow him to see his sister until the tenth night.
Ra’s had nodded at him in pride for completing his task.
Talia made sure his medical team was the best the League had to offer.
He was able to walk to their shared room shortly after dinner.
He swung open the door and stepped inside quickly. Just as the door closed two arms wrapped around his neck and Marinette was sniffing into his neck.
“I missed you, Brother.”
Damian felt tears spring to his eyes as he held his twin tightly to his chest.
“I missed you too, Sister.”
In that moment, Damian decided the last ten days had been the worst in his life.
---
“Your hands…” Marinette whispered late in the night.
She held Damian’s wrapped hands delicately with her own.
“Yours are not much better.”
Hers were wrapped in soft bandages too.
“They're fine.”
Damian looked at her face. Small scratches and cuts littered her skin. Her ankle was fractured. She had needed stitches in several places, including a cut along her hairline.
“What happened? Why didn’t you take your bag with you?”
Marinette’s face flickered with emotion before stilling. “I was running late and forgot it.”
“But you had time to make your bed?”
“I suppose I was being a bit of a scatterbrain.”
That was the first time Marinette lied to him.
---
“You useless brat!”
Damian walked around the corner of a deserted hallway to see Ra’s standing over Marinette.
His poor sister looked like she would rather melt through the floor than be anywhere near there.
“You were supposed to die on that mountain! How dare you come back at all!”
Ra’s raised his hand.
The world seemed to slow.
Damian rushed forward towards his sister.
Her bluebell eyes shone with tears.
Before Damian could reach her, Ra’s brought his hand down for a powerful slap to Marinette’s face.
---
Damian shot up in bed at the sound of a scream.
His breath was fast, his sheets were cold and sweaty.
It took him a moment to realize he was the one who screamed. His chest heaved. His body trembled. His cheeks felt wet.
Damian didn’t care.
He closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing. The remnants of his latest dream danced behind his eyelids and he snapped his eyes open again.
There was a thud in the hall before his door was kicked open by Grayson and Drake. They both looked like they were preparing for a fight. Drake held a lamp in front of him like a weapon.
Damian wiped his eyes immediately.
Grayson and Drake’s stances untensed. Their eyes shifted to concern. Drake looked awkward and Grayson looked like he wanted to confort Damian but wasn’t sure how.
“What are you doing here?” Damian demanded.
His voice didn’t come out as strong as he would have liked. It was raw and cracked in the middle.
“We heard a scream. We thought you were hurt.” Grayson said in an obnoxiously soothing tone.
“Well, as you can see, I’m perfectly fine. So leave.”
Damian furiously wiped at his eyes.
“Dami-.”
“Ju-Ju-Just g-go away!”
Damian’s knees curled up without his consent. He wrapped his arms around his legs and hid his face.
“Damian.” Grayson’s soft voice sounded right next to him before he felt a dip in the bed.
Grayson’s hand gently touched his knee. Like he was afraid Damian would shatter.
Damian failed to hold in a sob.
“Shh.” Grayson threw caution to the wind and pulled Damian into a hug. Damian’s body shook. Grayson rubbed calm circles on his back. “It’s ok. It was just a dream.”
But it wasn’t just a dream.
“It’s ok. No one can hurt you. Do you want to talk about it?”
Damian shook his head into Grayson’s tear soaked shirt.
“Ok. Do you want me to stay with you?”
Damian didn’t answer.
Grayson stayed anyways.
He held him until his cries started to quiet. He still felt his warm arms when his eyes started to shut.
He tried not to notice how Marinette wasn’t there to comfort him like she always is.
He tried not to think about how the gaping hole of grief felt the slightest bit smaller.
He tried not to think about the fact that when his eyes started to close, he felt like tomorrow would be better.
Because it wouldn’t be.
It could never be.
Marinette wasn’t here.
And the guilt came back like a tidal wave.
Notes:
Sooooo, what did you think?
This chapter isn't my most well written one ever but I still like it.
Damian is trying to move on, and now he has Dick to help him.
Next chapter belongs to Marinette.
The next few Damian chapters will not be as nice as this one. Buckle up.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
Please comment!
PS. I don't know if you can see the notes box under this one but please ignore it because I still have no idea how to fix it.
Chapter 6: Best Friends Keep Promises
Notes:
I posted a day early because I'm excided.
It's Marinette's chapter!
I also may have gotten carried away. It's 3K.
This chapter took a hard left turn as soon as I started writing it. If you were hoping for some fluff (like I was) then sorry. I just got an idea that would help make my story more clear in the future and had to do it.TRIGGER WARNING:
Nothing explicit or to descriptive (I think)
If you don't want to read it, scroll to the last two sections and it should give a summery of what happened (I think).Anyways, thanks for the love on the last chapter!
Please comment :)
Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Marinette stood outside the tall elementary school.
It was her first day of school.
All summer, she had been waiting for her injuries to heal. She had grown restless quickly.
Her French had improved greatly being around the bakery. The customers all adored her.
Marinette practically skipped to her classroom. She already knew where it was after having had a tour over the summer because of her ‘unique situation’.
Marinette’s walk was still a little funny, but nothing that would affect her in the long term. She nearly tripped over her own feet several times on her way to class.
She opened the green door decorated with paper flowers from last year's class with a grin.
“Ah, Marinette, you can go sit over there.” The teacher, Mr Dubois, who the Dupain-Cheng’s met on their visit, pointed to a desk beside a young girl.
“Hello!” she waved to the girl, her voice only slightly accented.
The girl looked up from her pencil drawing in her notebook. She wore her long black hair in a braid to show off her light brown eyes. She wore a purple dress, and a blinding smile that showed all her teeth.
The girl waved at her cheerfully. “Hi.”
“My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. What’s yours?” Marinette asked as she sat down and placed her sparkly pink backpack under the table.
“I’m Juleka Couffaine.”
Marinette grinned. “Do you want to be friends?”
---
Marinette loved school. Not to say she loved the academics involved, but she was a social butterfly. She was not a creature to be away from other humans.
She liked her teacher, Mr Dubois, a 40 something man who always came to school wearing bright colours. He had generic brown hair and eyes, and all the students liked him too.
Marinette liked learning about other languages. She was a natural at all of their English lessons. She looked forward to the extra work Mr Dubois would give her while the rest of the class finished theirs.
Making friends with Juleka was one of Marinette’s best choices. Sure, she was friends with all the people in her class, but she was closest to Juleka.
Juleka was outgoing, funny, and acted like the living embodiment of a ray of sunshine.
Marinette liked to think she knew her best friend pretty well. Her favorite colour is purple, she has an older twin brother named Luka, she lives on a houseboat, her father left before she was born, and her favorite subject is art.
It was about four months into the school year, the last day before winter break. Marinette and Juleka were going to walk together to the Dupain-Cheng bakery down the street, right across from the collège. They often walked together since Juleka’s mother found it much easier to pick her up later in the day than to rush to Luka’s school as well.
Marinette had just finished putting all her things into her pink backpack and was waiting for Juleka to finish as well.
“Juleka,” Mr Dubois said as the other students exited. “your mother asked that you stay after school once a week to work on homework for now on until she comes to pick you up.”
“Huh?” Juleka looked confused.
“You’ll stay here after class from now on.”
“Why?”
Mr Dubois smiled at her. “Because your mother thinks you would do better if you had extra time with your teacher to help you.”
“But it’s winter break now.”
Mr Dubois shrugged.
Marinette looked between the two. There was an off feeling in her stomach. “Can I stay too?”
He shook his head. “You’re parent’s will want you home. Have a happy holidays.”
Marinette looked at Juleka.
Juleka smiled at her. “I’ll be fine. Have a good holiday.”
Marinette nodded before grabbing her backpack and walking to the door. She turned and waved as she exited the classroom. “Happy holidays.”
Marinette walked out of the school, free at last. The weird feeling in her stomach faded away, until she had mostly forgotten ever having it.
---
Marinette didn’t see Juleka over the break. She tried not to be disappointed by it.
On the first day’s back in January, Juleka seemed happy to see her. But she was acting weird.
She decided Juleka was just sad that the holidays were over.
Marinette still waved goodbye to Juleka when she had to stay behind once a week after class. She always looked uncomfortable, her smile tight.
Juleka just didn’t like homework, after all, who did?
It had nothing to do with the off feeling in her stomach.
Nothing at all.
---
In February, Juleka started staying behind every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
Juleka tried to argue with Mr Dubois once .
After all the other students left, he grabbed Juleka's arm in a way that would seem comforting if it wasn’t for the grimace on her face.
“Now, dear, the choice isn’t up to you. I’ll help you with your homework until your mother comes to pick you up.” Mr Dubois smiled sweetly, but his eyes twitch ever so slightly.
Juleka just nodded quietly, and looked at the floor.
Marinette was told to go home to her parents, that they would be worried if she didn’t come home soon.
She waved goodbye to her friend.
Juleka didn’t take off her coat at the door the next day, despite the sweat she could clearly see forming on her brow.
Juleka said she was coming down with a cold.
Marinette tried not to think about that weird feeling again.
---
Juleka slowly started closing herself off, little by little.
She talked less than she used to. Her smiles were more forced. She started making excuses about hanging out outside of school.
Marinette thought that she just needed some space. She would come back eventually.
By March, Juleka was told to stay in for recess occasionally to finish her homework she hadn't finished after school.
One day, Marinette came back in early to use the bathroom. She saw Juleka by the sinks, tears in her eyes.
“Jules, what's wrong?”
The other girl jumped at the voice. She quickly whipped her red eyes. “Nothing, just stubbed my toe.”
Marinette walked towards her, ignoring how her friend backed away like a scared animal.
“Are you sure?”
Juleka nodded. “I should go. Class will start soon.”
There was that weird feeling again.
Stronger.
Urging her to do something.
“Wait!” Marinette reached for her wrist as she tried to walk past her.
Juleka hissed quietly, and shut her eyes for just a second. As though she was in pain.
Most would have missed it, but Marinette didn’t.
She looked down at her clothed wrist. That was another thing Juleka started doing. She used to love t-shirts and dresses. Now she never left the house without long sleeves and a pair of pants that passed her ankles.
There were small specks of red on her sleeve. Marinette gently pulled it up to her elbow and took a sharp breath.
Juleka’s arms were covered with purple bruises in a familiar shape. Little crescent cuts, not all scabbed over, littered her wrists, eerily similar to fingernails.
Marinette looked into Juleka’s fearful eyes. “Who did this to you?”
Juleka shook her head frantically. “No one. I tripped on the stairs.”
“No, you didn’t. I’ve tripped on the stairs. I know what those bruises look like.”
“Maybe you were just lucky.” Juleka ripped her arm out of Marinette's gentle grip. She pulled the sleeve down before backing away. “It was just a little fall. There’s no need to tell anyone.”
“But-”
“Promise me.” Juleka looked her dead in the eyes with nothing but panic. “As your best friend, promise me you won’t tell anyone.”
“I... I…”
“Promise me.”
Marinette didn’t know what to do. “I promise.”
That would be a mistake Marinette would regret her entire life.
---
In April, Marinette barely talked to Juleka anymore.
Actually, Juleka barely talked to Marinette anymore.
She had withdrawn into herself after the bathroom incident. They still were friends, but it felt like Marinette was the only one chipping into the conversation anymore.
It was like talking to a wall sometimes.
The only constant with Juleka anymore was that she loved to draw. She was always sketching in her notebook or doodling in the margins of assignments.
It was one of those times that instead of filling in the answers on a math test, Juleka lost herself to drawing on the edges of the paper.
She didn’t even notice until the hour was up.
“Juleka!” Mr Dubois said when he came to collect the tests. He seemed angry. “Can you explain why not one of the questions is answered?”
The poor girl looked about ready to cry. She shook her head.
“When I ask you a question, you will answer. Why did you not even try on this test?”
The class snickered.
Marinette glared at the back of Mr Dubois' balding head.
That was uncalled for.
“I… I…”
“ Yeeessss… ” Mr Dubois pushed, drawing out the simple word.
“I’m s-s-sorry.”
He scowled. “You should be. Stay after class with me.”
“But sir,” Marinette cut in, “it’s Tuesday. Juleka comes to my house on Tuesdays.”
“Raise your hand before speaking.” Mr Dubois whirled on her. “And her mother will just have to pick her up here. I’ll call and tell her just how much trouble her daughter is in.”
“But-”
“No more but’s. That’s final, unless you would like me to call your parents as well.”
Marinette bit her tongue, fuming the remainder of class.
---
Juleka didn’t even wave goodbye to her at the end of class.
She had practically been shaking in her seat when Marinette left.
Marinette made it all the way outside of the school doors, the bottom step of the school stairs, when that weird feeling came back.
Except this time, it screamed .
Stop!
Turn around!
Go back!
What?
Go back!
Why?
Go back!
So Marinette turned around and started climbing the stairs back into the school. The feeling only grew, and before she knew it, she was sprinting down the halls.
Her classroom was located on the far side of the school, and Marinette could never express how thankful she was that for some reason, her clumsiness had taken a vacation.
In one swift move, Marinette pulled her backpack off her shoulder, slammed open the class door, and dropped her bag in the doorway to keep the door from fully closing.
What she saw made Marinette want to throw up.
Juleka, her best friend, the sweetest girl Marinette had ever known, was sitting on the teacher’s desk. Her shirt was tossed across the room to a random student's desk, her pants were around her ankles, and she was crying non stop.
The door had made a loud bang when Marinette had thrown it open, and as a result, Juleka’s head had snapped up, teary eyes wide, and her hands flew to her chest in a vain attempt to cover herself.
Mr Dubois, the disgusting creature , stood far too close to Juleka, his belt undone and his fly open. Marinette saw as Mr Dubois pulled his hands back from Juleka’s chest and face in a flash.
He seemed to look between the two students, students, his own goddamn students, trying to think of an excuse to get him out of the situation.
That split second was all it took for Marinette to see red.
“You bastard!”
Marinette’s scream was all it took for Juleka, her best friend, to snap back to reality. She hopped off the desk, pulled up her pants and ran to the back of the classroom, grabbing her shirt on the way. She hid under the desk in the farthest corner of the room, her back facing them as she curled in on herself.
Marinette’s mind flashed briefly to concern, knowing she was almost positively having a panic attack. Then she looked up at her teacher again and pushed the thought to the back of her mind for later.
“ You fucking bastard!” Marinette screamed it so hard it left her panting.
“Now, now.” Mr Dubois started, hands outstretched in a placating gesture. “Let’s all calm down.”
Maybe if his fly wasn’t still open, her mind might have tried to find reason. After all, how could a teacher rape his own goddamn student.
“Calm down!”
Marinette started advancing forward, feeling more anger than she could ever remember feeling.
Mr Dubois started backing away slowly, arms still outstretched. “I’m sure that if we just talk abo-.”
“Talk about this! Talk about this! What is there to fucking talk about!”
Marinette grabbed the first thing within arms reach, that just so happened to be a stapler from his desk, and started waving it around in front of her.
“YOU ARE A FUCKING PHEDOPHILE! WHAT ELSE IS THERE!”
The anger just kept coming.
Expanding.
If it weren’t for the fact Mr Dubois still had his underwear up, Marinette would have castrated him right there and then.
“Just cal-.”
“I AM FUCKING CALM, YOU FUCKING BASTARD !”
With more strength than Marinette’s bony arm possessed, she threw the stapler at Mr Dubois. The metal hit him in the head, leaving a bloody cut. His body dropped, knocked unconscious.
Marinette wanted to move forward.
She wanted to start punching the man.
Again.
And again
And again.
And again.
Until he didn’t get up.
Until he learned his lesson.
Until he stopped breathing.
Marinette took a step forward to do just that, when she stopped.
Hesitated for just a moment.
Her eye caught something in the corner of her eye.
Her wrist.
Where she always wore her bracelet.
The only link she had to her past.
The stones were glowing a sickly green.
---
Other teachers had heard her yells.
They arrived only moments after Mr Dubois was knocked unconscious.
Marinette had shoved her hands into her pockets to hide the glow.
The police were called.
Their parents were called.
The ambulance was called.
Everything after the moment Marinette’s eyes landed on her bracelet was a blur.
Her parent’s arrived with a panic.
She asked to go to the hospital and wait to see Juleka.
The police took her statement in the waiting room.
She told them about how Juleka had to stay after school some days. How she started becoming distant. How she was asked to stay in for recess sometimes too.
She told them about the bruises she saw in the bathroom.
The police asked when Juleka started being asked to stay after class.
She responded with the end of December.
Nearly 5 months.
Juleka’s mom and brother arrived with tears in their eyes.
They were asked to stay in the waiting room until Juleka finished her statement.
Anarka starts pacing and yelling about “How could nobody notice what was happening?”
The “how could I have not noticed.” hung in the air like a filthy smell.
Luka sat beside Marinette silently in the waiting room.
Neither one spoke.
Mr Dubois woke up and told the police that his psychotic student attacked him.
They told him he was under arrest for sexual assault of a minor, and about five other charges Marinette wasn’t listening to.
Marinette checked her bracelet from under her jacket sleeve.
It was still glowing.
She kept her sleeve down, wrist in her pocket, not thinking about it for some strange reason.
Eventually, the Couffaine’s were whisked away to Juleka’s hospital room.
An hour later, Luka came out saying that Juleka wanted to talk to Marinette.
Alone.
---
The room was quiet when she entered.
She sat in the seat next to the hospital bed.
Juleka looked so small, sitting in a hospital bed, connected to various medical equipment. She was wearing a hospital gown that showed all the bruises on her arms. Her hair covered her face, her head bent down to look at her lap. The blankets were pulled up all the way to under her armpits.
“Are yo-” Marinette started, apprehensive.
“Stop.” Juleka’s voice was quiet and scratchy, but cut through the air like glass. “Don’t ask me if I’m ok. That’s all anyone is asking me right now.”
“O-Ok.”
They sat in silence for a few moments.
“You.. You broke your promise.”
Marinette stared at Juleka in shock. “What?”
“You broke your promise.”
“I… I had to.” Marinette protested, not understanding.
“You promised me you wouldn’t tell anyone.” Juleka finally raised her head to stare into Marinette’s eyes, looking through her curtain of hair. “And you broke it.”
“I was just trying to help you.”
“I don’t want your help.”
“But-.”
“Now everybody knows.”
“They can help you.”
“I don’t care!” Juleka’s voice rose louder than Marinette had heard in months. “I trusted you. I trusted you would have my back.”
“I do.”
“No. You broke your promise.”
“I just wanted you to be ok.”
“Best friends,” Juleka’s eyes watered slightly. “don’t break each other’s promises.”
“But-”
“You’re not my friend anymore. Leave.”
The words hit Marinette harder than that fateful car ever had.
“I’m sorry, Jul-”
“Leave!”
Marinette stood on shaky legs and walked to the door slowly. With one hand pressed against the exit, Marinette turned around.
“I know you’re mad at me. I know you might hate me. But I’ll be right there. When you’re ready to be friends again, I’ll be there. Because no matter what, you’re still my first friend, and I care about you. And I’m not sorry. I did what I thought was best.” Marinette took a shaky breath.
“Goodbye, Juleka.”
Marinette walked out the door, not expecting a reply.
---
By the time Marinette was safely in her room, it was around 3 in the morning.
She pulled her sleeve up.
The bracelet’s glow illuminated her face briefly before finally fading back to normal.
She collapsed back onto her bed. Suddenly exhausted.
Mentally and physically.
Marinette clutched her bracelet firmly.
In the morning, she would panic about the bracelet, and Juleka, and everything else she could think of.
By next week she’ll have convinced herself that the glow was all in her head.
How could a jade bracelet glow?
By next month, she won't think about it for years to come.
Right now, Marinette closed her eyes and drifted off into a restless sleep.
Hand still covering the bracelet.
Notes:
Juleka, I'm sorry!!!
I didn't plan for you to be in my chapter or for what happened to you. I was going to have some Nino fluff. And then I had this idea and couldn't get it out of my head.
I needed something a little tragic to happen to Marinette, and this happened.
Sorry!
I also totally think child Marinette was swearing behind her parents backs, and the situation definitely called for it here.
And can you see a little bit of Damian in Marinette. Just a little?What do you guys think about the bracelet?
What is it? What's happening? Why is it important?
You'll see.
Damian is up next. I don't think you'll see Marinette until she gets her Miraculous.
Sorry I'm dragging out this part for so long.Please comment, I have more time to write now but I write better if I know people like it.
Please comment :)P.S. if there is a notes box under this one it is a glitch I still am unable to fix.
Chapter 7: Mourning the Death of a Loved One
Notes:
ANNOUNCEMENT
I realized this is the 7th chapter and poor Damian and Marinette have not been having a Nice time. So if we get 400 kudos by Christmas, I'll post a fluffy chapter.
I know we can do it!
We're so close!In other news, this is Damian's chapter. Canon might get kind of weird. I think you can tell by the title this won't be a walk in the park for him.
We're diving into Miraculous Ladybug in chapter 9 or 10 (depending on if we get 400 kudos)Thanks for your feedback on my last chapter. I know you hate me for that.
Please comment :)
Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Damian hated school.
Socializing had never been his forte. It was always his sister's thing.
Now he had her whispering in his ear:
“Oh, she looks nice.”
“You should go say hi to him.”
“Friends will be good for you, Damian.”
She sounded just like their father.
“Would you stop that?” He hissed once in the privacy of his own room.
“Stop what?” Marinette grinned at him innocently, already making herself at home on his bed.
“You know what.”
Damian pulled on his tie. The stupid thing was itching at his throat all day. The Gotham Academy uniform was not built for comfort.
When he voiced this opinion to Grayson, all he received was a laugh and him saying: “We all suffered through it. Now you will too.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Brother Dearest.”
It was like she was trying to rile him up.
“About making friends.”
Damian started unbuttoning his itchy formal shirt.
“So you’ve changed your mind.”
He pulled off his shirt and left it in the hamper for Alfred to collect later.
“No.”
Marinette rolled on his bed so she was looking away from him as he changed.
“You need friends.”
“They're all imbeciles.”
Damian pulled a green sweater over his head.
“They’re average. Not everyone knows three languages by the age of four.”
He turned around to throw his slacks in the hamper and pull on a pair of sweatpants. He started rummaging through his backpack for the homework he had to complete.
Two months into the school year and he was already tired of it.
“I despise other humans.”
“Wow, love you too, Brother.”
Damian glared at her from over his shoulder.
“Everyone except you.”
Marinette sat up and placed a hand over her heart mockingly, “I feel oh so honored with this privilege.”
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
Marinette swatted at the back of his head. “You’re insufferable.”
“I know you love me.”
“Ugh!”
Marinette flopped backwards against the bed with a groan dramatically.
Damian tried not to be unsettled that his sheets hadn't moved for so much as a breeze.
---
Damian holed up in his bedroom for several hours, blasting Mozart concertos like it was AC/DC.
“Oh my gooood! Damiiiaannnn.” Marinette whined like a toddler. “You finally have unlimited access to all modern musical genres and you choose this!”
“What’s wrong with this?”
“It’s so boooooring.”
“You’re being overdramatic.”
“It’s a family trait.”
Before Damian could think of a snappy comeback, there was a loud knock on his door.
He spun his chair around to look at Marinette, who was playing with a hair tie and had her head hanging over the edge of the bed. She looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
Damian rose from his desk with a shrug. The opened the door a fraction to peeked through. Grayson stood there, body hunched and face tense.
After deeming him safe, Damian opened the door fully, not inviting him in but not shutting him out either.
“What do you want?”
“Damian, I…” Grayson’s voice trailed off.
Damian took a moment to take in his body language.
His hands were shaking, his knees wobbly, and his eyes were red.
It took a lot to make Grayson cry.
Something was seriously wrong.
“I’m so so sorry, Damian.”
No.
“B-Bruce… he was in a fight.”
No.
“With the Justice League. Darkseid invaded with an army. I… I didn’t hear until it was too late.”
No.
“He.. He didn’t make it.”
No!
There was a heavy moment of silence.
“Thank you for informing me.” Damian ignored the obvious crack in his voice and the tightening in his throat. “If you see Pennyworth, please tell him to leave dinner outside my room.”
Damian shut the door calmly, and collapsed on the ground as his knees gave out.
He started hyperventilating.
This wasn’t happening.
His vision blurred with tears.
Not again!
Damian leaned his back against his door, hugging his knees to his chest.
Marinette was at his side in an instant. She wrapped her arms around him, shushing him and saying gentle things into his ear.
“Why…” He sobbed. “Why does everyone leave me?”
“Shhh.” Marinette held him closer, and Damian could feel it. “It’s going to be ok.”
“No it’s not.”
“It’s ok. You're ok.”
“I’m scared.” His voice cracked on the admission.
“That’s ok. I’m not going to leave you. I’m not going to leave you. I’m right here.”
Her words soothed him, and at the same time made the pain in his heart double.
---
The News reported that Bruce Wayne went on a sudden business trip to Brazil and that his children would be visiting temporarily.
The whole hero community knew that in a few months, Wayne Enterprise would announce that their CEO died in an unfortunate accident.
At the end of the first week of not leaving the house, Dick presented Damian with an opportunity he would be stupid to pass up.
“I accept.”
Later that same night, while walking down to the Batcave, Damian froze on the stairs at the sound of voices in the cave.
“You gave him Robin!”
“It will be good for him.”
“He’s a homicidal maniac!”
“It’ll teach him discipline.”
“But I’m Robin!”
“But you could be so much better.”
“I’m not ready for that!”
“Yes, you are. Now that Bruce is go-”
“He’s not dead!”
“I know you’re hurting, bu-”
“You think I’m crazy?”
“No-”
“B is alive!”
“No! No, he’s not!”
“Yes he is!”
“You need to let go!”
“Just because you’ve accepted his death, doesn’t mean it's true.”
“I know it’s hard..”
“No, you don’t.”
“You’re not the only one hurting. Damian didn’t even get to know his father before he got taken away.”
“So this is all about Damian.”
“No, it’s ju-”
“You can’t just take Robin away from me!”
“It’s destroying you! Can’t you see that!”
“I’m fine!”
“No, you’re not. None of us are.”
“If we just get Bruce back-”
“HE’S NOT COMING BACK!”
“...”
“...”
“Fine. I’ll get him back on my own.”
Damian turned around on the stairs and shut his door. Marinette made small talk to try and ease his mind as he fell asleep.
In the morning, when Drake did not show up to breakfast, Damian said nothing.
---
Robin patrolled the streets of Gotham a week later.
Wearing the traditional colours in a toned down pallet and more shades of black. A gleaming katana strapped to his thigh. A cape that seemed more like a cloak. And a dangerous scowl that reeked with the intention to cause bloodshed.
He was accompanied by a Batman who pulled him back before he ended a criminal’s final days.
---
Damian’s feelings of guilt that he had been avoiding since his episode a few months ago, invaded his thoughts like a disease.
He never envisioned his father, something he was grateful to his sanity for.
But Marinette had begun to appear every waking moment he was not Robin.
The second the mask went on, she disappeared like a whisper. The second it was off, she started rambling about what a good job he did on patrol. Regardless of whether or not he did.
It felt nice.
Having his sister at his side.
And at the same time, like opening an old wound and dousing it in gasoline.
The loss of his father weighed on him heavily. Made him feel like he was suffocating.
But he knew everyone was grieving too, even if he pretended not to notice.
Drake left on his expedition through time months ago. No one spoke of it unless absolutely necessary, and even then it was delicate and vague.
Cass hadn’t been seen in months, only brief case files downloaded onto the Batcomputer from Hong Kong were the only reason they knew she was alive.
Todd had gone out on his own with Roy and Kori, starting the Outlaws. He was probably taking the news the best.
Gordan visited the Batcave more, throwing herself into Oracle duties.
Brown took to the streets with more aggression than necessary and spent most of her time out of Gotham completely.
The Justice League were trying their best not to fall apart at the seams.
Alfred disappeared more often and spoke with few words.
Damian also pretended not to notice Grayson’s crying into the late hours of the morning when he thought everyone was asleep. Or his quiet mutterings of “Bruce, why did you leave us.” and “I don’t think I can keep it together much longer.”
And Marinette…
Well, Marinette wasn’t even mourning.
It was like she took all her efforts into ensuring he was safe and healthy at all times.
She began taking in their surroundings when Damian was too spaced out to even think about it. She stopped bothering him about making friends and started saying he would when he was ready. She critiqued everyone he spent so much more than three seconds with, deciding if they were safe or not.
Usually not.
The fact that she wasn’t mourning angered him.
But it made him realize something that made his heart ache.
She never spoke a word to Father.
Father never spoke a word to her.
Father never even knew she existed.
Because Marinette Wayne never had a chance to exist like Damian Wayne did.
Because Marinette was dead.
And it hurt every time he heard her voice, and realized it all over again.
---
The Justice League eventually had to ask when Bruce would be declared dead.
The months had gone by and the announcement was never made.
Blake Canary said it may help them all move on.
Dick Grayson looked them all dead in the eyes and replied: “When Tim comes home.”
Damian stood right beside him showing full support.
No one said that they didn’t think Tim was coming home either.
---
Drake turned up on the Batcave on a random May night. He wore a different suit and was beaten and bloody.
Beside him stood Bruce, looking gaunt and wearing clothes not from their era.
Everyone cried.
Damian walked right up to his Father and hugged him.
The man was surprised and hesitantly hugged him back.
Then Damian stepped back and demanded him to never do anything like that again.
Everyone laughed.
They all seemed happy again.
Damian was too.
Briefly.
Because in the corner of the room he could see his sister. She smiled at him kindly. Congratulated him like their Father was a stranger and not her own blood.
And the guilt of her death hit him all over again.
He could have prevented it.
He could have saved her.
Not just from when the League of Assassins fell.
He could have saved her months earlier.
But he was stupid.
And said no.
So now, she stood in the corner like a stranger.
Watching from the outside when she should be in the heart of it.
Hugging their father and telling him what an idiot he was.
But she stood in the corner.
Silent.
Because no one else could see her.
Notes:
Damian is not having a Nice time.
He's starting to properly prosses his grief, but still refers to his sister like she isn't in his head. (Which he know she is.)Damian will have the chapter regardless of if we hit 400 kudos or not.
But I think you can agree he needs a break you guys! Give him the fluff chapter.Please comment :)
It makes me write faster.P.S. I finally fixed that weird notes box.
Chapter 8: Super Annoyance
Notes:
First, Merry Christmas/Hanukah if that's what you celebrate.
Second, what the heck guys!!!!!
I said that if we got to 400 kudos by Christmas, I would give you guys a fluffy chapter. And to your credit, you did. IN ONE NIGHT!!! Less that 12 hours after I posted I had over 400 kudos. Not only that, but now I have 100 from just one chapter.
You guys really understood the assignment.So here, have you're fluffy chapter. I'm not amazing at fluff, so I really have no idea if it's any good. But I really tried and Damian had a Nice time.
Also, read my Authors Note at the end of the chapter because there will be some minorly important stuff there.
Please comment :)
Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Damian wanted one thing to be clear.
He was not friends with Jonathan Kent.
Damian had his first unfortunate encounter with the kryptonian child only a week after his father’s return.
The Justice League were all extremely protective of Batman now. Much to Bruce’s annoyance.
They had elected Clark Kent to visit the Manor that day, and the insufferable alien had brought both his sons.
Conner Kent and Jonathan Kent.
Kon-El disappeared quickly into the manor. No doubt with Drake and most likely doing things Damian would rather not think about, thank you very much.
Jonathan had wisely decided not to follow his brother. But without him, he defaulted to talking to the only person his age.
Which just so happened to be Damian.
“Hi! My name’s Jon.” He introduced himself with all the enthusiasm of a golden retriever puppy. “You’re Robin, right? I’m Superboy.”
“Tt.” Damian tisked. He was annoyed already. “Yes. I am Robin.”
“That’s so cool. It must be amazing to do all those stunts without powers. I know I would never be able to without mine. Granted, I can’t even imagine life without mine.”
“I would assume not. Those of us without them do not have the safety net you do.”
“Safety net?”
“Yes, we have to work hard to accomplish things.”
“Why do I feel like you’re insulting me?”
“Tt. Because I am, Kent.”
With that, Damian turned around with all the dramatics he claims to not possess, and left the Batcave.
So no, he and Jonathan Kent were not friends.
Most definitely not.
---
Batman and Superman were conspiring against him, Damian decided.
The first mission the two heroes had and chose to take their trainees on was a coincidence.
The second was an accident.
The third was a pattern.
A pattern Damian quickly grew to hate.
After the fourth, Bruce pulled him aside in the Batcave.
“You need to try making friends, Damian.”
“Why? They serve no purpose or need.”
Bruce rolled his eyes. “They are loyal allies.”
“And do you consider everyone on the JL ‘loyal’ allies.”
Playing into his paranoia was a low blow.
“They are not all my friends.”
“Tt. Do they know that?”
Bruce glared down his nose at his son.
“If you can’t be friends, at least be civil.”
Damian scoffed. “I have not attempted to end his worthless life. I consider that civil enough.”
---
Damian would not call himself a nice person. Perhaps good, with all the effort he had been putting in to change and leave behind the League ways.
But nice was never an adjective he, or anyone else would use to describe him.
And he was fine with that.
Honestly.
Once the fifth mission was over, and Damian was safely tucked into his room, just on the verge of sleep, Marinette said:
“You know, he’s actually a nice guy.”
Damian slid one eye open hesitantly. She sat on the end of his queen bed, braiding her hair and looking far to awake for the current hour.
He sighed, “What difference does that make?”
“I think he’d be good for you, Brother.”
“You say that about a lot of people.”
“Well, this time I mean it.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Pray tell.”
“He’s not like the kids at the Academy.” Marinette turned her head away shyly. “He listens to you, your opinions, and has no reason to use you for money. I think he’s really trying to be your friend.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you have a crush.”
Marinette looked at him with wide eyes, highly offended. “I do not!”
“You sure?” Damian teased with a sleepy smile.
Marinette slapped his leg. “Yes I’m sure! Honestly, Damian, sometimes I wonder if being around people our own age is benefiting you.”
“I’ll take your observations to Father. Though, I doubt he would listen to things he’s heard a million times over by now.”
“Oh shut up.”
“Gladly.”
And Damian drifted into one of his few dreamless sleeps.
---
Towards the end of the sixth mission together, waiting for the police to arrive to arrest the arms dealers, it seemed like Jon had finally had enough.
“What’s your deal?” Superboy said bluntly, floating gently next to Robin on a rooftop.
“‘My deal?’”
“Yeah.” The Super pressed. “Why don’t you like me?”
“I do not like many people.”
“Why?”
“I do not believe I need them.”
Jon wrinkled his nose. “Everyone needs someone.”
“I do not.”
“Just wait,” Superboy grinned wide. “I’m going to be your friend.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“I like a challenge.”
---
Damian regretted to admit that maybe he did need someone on the seventh mission.
Their fathers were on the top floor of the building, fighting the big players in the metahuman trafficking ring.
Superboy and Robin were only a level below them, fighting off the idiotic goons.
Robin was pretty sure he saw a few throw their share of money on the table and run.
Good riddance.
The goons were not good fighters. It became clear quickly they were mostly just for intimidation.
That didn’t stop one of them loading up some sort of alien tech bazooka in the heat of the battle.
And it didn’t stop him from firing it while Robin’s back was turned.
One second Robin was focused on breaking the nose of the man in front of him. The next, he was on the floor, Superboy on top of him, and the man was blown into little disgusting bits that would make a grown man’s stomach turn.
Superboy looked briefly at Robin with a shining smile. “You're welcome.”
Then he charged right back into the battle.
Leaving Damian to think about what just happened and what that would mean for him.
---
After the eighth mission, mostly spent ignoring the other boy, Robin reluctantly said:
“Congratulations, I suppose you have become an ally of mine.”
Superboy smirked. “So we’re friends?”
“Allies.”
“We’re totally friends, aren’t we.”
“You have downgraded from annoying ally to super annoyance.”
“Definitely friends.”
---
Bruce handed Damian a phone two days later at breakfast.
Damian just looked at him questioningly.
“All of the families numbers are already programmed into it. Including Jon’s. There’s an emergency beacon included in case of emergencies.”
Damian slid it across the table towards him. “Thank you.”
---
An hour later, his new phone dinged.
Jon: So, I hear you got a phone.
Damian: You have heard correctly.
Jon: I was wondering if you wanted to go see that new Marvel movie on Thursday with me?
Damian considered.
Damian: I can arrange my schedule for that.
Jon: Yay! Does that mean we’re friends?
Damian: No.
Jon: Going to the movies is something friends do. So we’re friends.
Damian simply rolled his eyes and tossed his phone to the other end of the couch.
---
The movie was pleasant.
However inaccurate to being a vigilante/superhero it was.
Kent let Damian pick the theater seats. He chose the ones in the back corner, with an extra seat beside himself for Marinette.
They ate so much popcorn and gummy bears that they both felt terrible after the movie. It resulted in them separating ways and being bedriden for the rest of the night.
Despite how it ended, Damian quite enjoyed the outing.
---
Kent invited him to another movie a week later.
Then a trip to a mall.
Then another movie.
Then laser tag. Which might not have been the best choice considering Damian sent the opposing team home in tears.
Grayson claimed that the staff would never allow him into the laser tag dome again.
Kent had doubled over laughing at the other team's misery. Damian even cracked a smile that showed just a bit of teeth.
Grayson not so discreetly snapped a photo of them both, still in full gear.
He took the boys for pizza at a parlor Kent claimed had the best pizza in the world.
Damian wasn’t sure, but it was good nonetheless.
They dropped Kent off at his house after 10, his father jokingly scolding them for breaking curfew.
Damian's body hit his bed with a smile, after what had turned out to be the most fun day he’s ever had.
“So you have a friend now.” Marinette teased, smiling from ear to ear. “Good job.”
Was Jonathan Kent his friend?
Yes, Damian thought, he was.
Maybe, just maybe, having a friend wasn’t too awful.
Notes:
Superboy to the rescue!
Hope you enjoyed the chapter. I thought Jon was just so cute and I wanted him in my story. I do plan for him to be seen again, don't worry.Next chapter is Damian's and won't be nearly as easy on him as this one. There's some more obvious foreshadowing in that chapter because no one picked it up the the last one. So pay attention for plot.
Miraculous cannon is just beyond the horizon in Chapter 10. Not sure when you're getting that but soon, I promise.
MINORLY IMPORTANT STUFF:
Would you guys be interested if I made this into a series and posted oneshot AU's and maybe behind the scenes chapters that didn't make it to the book.
I've been sitting on some pathways I had to abandon for my story that I thought you guys might like.
Soooooo, let me know in the comments :)
Chapter 9: Trigger
Notes:
As you may have been able to tell from the title, this is not a happy chapter.
I have never experienced a trigger and am going off of what people have told me. If anything is incorrect, feel free to give me some feedback in the comments.
Damian's trigger is something I highly doubt will trigger anyone else, but if you're not comfortable reading this chapter that's ok.I decided to post some oneshot AU's and/or deleted chapters. So if it's not up yet, it will be soon. I won't have a schedule for those and nor do I plan to. I will always notify you in my Author's note's if I post one.
Please comment :)
Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The entire week, Damian felt off.
School had just been let out for the summer, which he had been amazingly grateful for. Robin could not patrol 6 days a week, (because Bruce still wouldn’t let him go 7). He’d almost been at the Manor for an entire year. He no longer tried to actively kill the other inhabitants every time he saw them (only occasionally).
Life seemed to be going pretty good for Damian Wayne.
But when he woke up, sweating, shaking, and gasping at 6 am on June 27th, he knew the day was going to be horrible.
Flashes of silver daggers and an equal sharp grin.
He stayed in bed for a full hour, trying to calm his racing heart. His eyes were shut tight as he muttered to himself:
“Calm down.”
“You’re fine.”
“You’re safe.”
“You're alive.”
A gentle laugh like windchimes that could usually lift his spirits.
When he could finally support himself on his own two feet, he stumbled wearily into a cold shower.
Bluebell eyes that sparkled with life.
His head pounded and his throat felt dry. He chugged down two painkillers and a full glass of water like a dying man.
Whispered words and the confidence of not having to watch his own back.
Once he deemed himself to look somewhat presentable, despite the fact he felt like crap, he left his room.
The resounding sound of a ruthless slap as she fell to the floor.
He repeated in his mind, again and again on his way down the stairs:
‘Maybe no one noticed. Wouldn’t be a big deal. No one noticed. Everything is fine.’
Wrapping bandaged hands at midnight.
Repeating that final lie, Damian walked into the dining room for breakfast to be greeted by a sight that made his heart race and his stomach to constrict.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAMIAN! was emblazoned on a sparkly blue banner hanging above the dining table.
An invisible hand tugging on his wrist. “Come on, Dami. It’s our special day.”
Father, Grayson, Drake, and Brown were sitting at the table, Alfred standing in the corner.
“I want to give you your present.”
Alfred, of course, was the first to notice him, simply sending him a smile and nod.
Braids and sedative needles hidden hair buns.
Grayson saw him only a few moments later, smiling wide and exclaiming “Happy birthday, lil’ D.”
“All I want for our birthday is something pink. It’s my favorite colour.”
Everything was just too much all of a sudden.
Turned backs and frightened faces as the blood was spilt.
Damian was sure his face paled and his expression must have been worse than usual because Grayson faltered for just a moment as the rest of the family looked up.
“Do you think Grandfather’s feast will be enjoyable this year?”
The breakfast he hasn’t even had a chance to eat, churned in his stomach in an uncomfortable and painful way.
Stitches in fabric and skin.
Damian turned around and started sprinting away. He heard the uncostumed vigilantes get up from the table and start running after him, shouting his name.
A gift wrapped in red paper with gold highlights.
By the time Damian reached the top of the stairs, his world was spinning and it was only by muscle memory and luck he managed to get through his bedroom door.
He heard his followers open the door just as he got the bathroom door open and kneeled at the toilet in time for him to lose his stomach contents.
Beads oh so similar to jade anyone would have missed their glow.
Stephanie and Tim hesitated at the door with a wince. Dick’s face turned worried, but he let Bruce take the lead.
Bruce knelt beside Damian awkwardly, rubbing his back as he hacked up bile.
Sand between his toes and fear in his eyes.
It took only a few moments for Dick to move forward and push Bruce out of the way to take his place. (The man tried, but he was still emotionally constipated.)
“It’s ok. Let it out. You’ll feel better.”
Flowing dresses and sea breezes.
Damian tried to focus on Grayson’s words.
He really did.
A bag packed with every valuable item she owned.
He stopped puking eventually and flushed, watching in a trance as the bile that made his throat burn disappeared in the pipes.
An offer he was too cowardly to take.
He looked up and saw Marinette standing in the corner of the porcelain bathroom.
Her skin was so ashen it was near translucent. The white dress she wore flowed from an invisible wind and brought out the colour of open wounds. Her eyes were freely streaming with tears and a drop of blood trailed the side of her face from a cut on her hairline. Her face was a look of pure and unshakable fear. Her hands were in her hair, pulling at a painful angle while her mouth was open in a silent scream.
Damian turned back to the basin and threw up again.
“I’ll follow you, Brother.”
Once Dick sensed that he wouldn’t throw up again yet, he pulled his shaking body back from the bowl and to his chest. He whipped his mouth with a towel and handed him a glass of water to take careful sips of.
“I trust you.”
Damian was still gasping and pretty soon Dick took the water away because it looked like he was about to drop it.
Damian pressed his eyelids shut and dug the palms of his hands into the sockets.
It did nothing to keep the image out of his head, already burned into his retinas and other visions racing across in mind.
He didn’t notice the tears on his cheeks.
Dick just pulled his tighter, tucking his head under his chin in a protective way. Dick shot Bruce, Tim, and Steph a look and they scrambled out the door, Bruce reluctantly pulled along.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Damian didn’t notice he started to say it out loud.
“Shhhh.”
Dick rocked him gently.
“I’m sorry. I'm sorry.”
“It’s ok. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
Dick pressed a kiss to the top of Damian's head.
“Please, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.”
“Shhh.”
Dick held him tighter, feeling like it wasn’t him who his little brother was talking too.
He just held him until his rambling quieted into small sobs.
---
After Damian fell asleep in his arms, completely drained, Dick picked him up and tucked him back into bed.
He then went down stairs, tore down the banner, and canceled the birthday party the family had planned for the afternoon.
“What are you doing?” Bruce asked, standing in the doorway of the dining room.
Dick turned around, still holding the sign in his hands. “Cleaning up.”
Bruce stood still.
Dick turned around to start pulling down streamers.
A minute or two later, Bruce walked to the other end of the room and started pulling down streamers too.
They worked in silence for awhile, before a question Bruce was clearly attempting to keep in, spilled out of his mouth. “How could we have not known his own birthday was a trigger?”
Dick looked at him solemnly.
“Damian doesn’t talk about his feelings. But I think he’s coming out of his shell. He’s really just a big softie.”
Bruce just raised an eyebrow.
Dick laughed.
“Ok, so maybe he’s not. But he’s getting there. Slowly.”
Notes:
It's official! We will now enter the Miraculous canon.
Fair warning, editing is had so I'm not sure when you'll get that chapter. If it's late I'm sorry.What does the bracelet mean? Why does Damian think of the ocean? What was the offer Damian didn't take?
Answers are coming, I promise.Go check out the oneshot that I either will post or is posted.
Please comment :)
Chapter 10: First Day
Notes:
Sorry this chapter is late.
I'm having trouble getting back into a rhythm with the holidays being over. Some of my chapters may or may not be late because of that.
But I do plan on posting a new chapter every weekend.Also, we're finally in the Miraculous Canon!
I apologize for the fact that the origins part will be drawn out to more than one chapter. This one was just too long if I didn't cut it.
Miraculous will be darker than in the show. I want this story to have higher stakes. You'll notice that pretty early on.Please comment :)
They always make my day.
Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Marinette was running late.
Of course she was.
Despite the fact that she was an insanely light sleeper and at the first ring of her alarm clock she was wide awake, she would always shut it off, think ‘just one more minute’, and be late.
On the first day too!
“No, no, no, no, no,” Marinette muttered to herself, trying to force her arms through her jacket sleeves. It took about thirty seconds for her to decide to just carry it instead, already bolting down the stairs.
Tom and Sabine looked up at her as she ran past them in the bakery.
Marinette’s relationship with her adoptive parents wasn’t exactly the best. She was adopted a year after coming to live with them, which she was ecstatic about. They did truly love her, and they weren’t abusive.
But they quickly lost interest in her, became busy with the bakery all the time, and had her start working there too.
She loved being around them, don’t get her wrong! She just wasn’t a baker like them and didn’t enjoy it overly much.
“Don’t forget the macarons, dear.” Tom called.
“I won’t.” Marinette said, picking up the macarons and shoving a chocolate croissant in her mouth. “Bye maman. Bye papa.” She waved goodbye quickly, racing out the door as it dinged softly.
Marinette stopped running at the curb to anxiously wait for the walk sign, wolfing down the croissant. “Oh come ooooooonnnnnn.” She rocked on her feet while checking her watch.
“Dude, what are you doing!”
“Oh my god!”
“Stop the car!”
Marinette’s head snapped up with a wave of deja vu.
What the hell?
Her eyes widened a moment later. An old man wearing a tacky Hawaiian shirt was trying to cross the road, leaning heavily on his cane.
A car was driving up the street, honking their horn lazily like they didn’t care they were about to run over some old guy.
Without thinking, (which was never really a wise decision around her,) she sprinted forward. Ignoring the pedestrians shouting at her, she tackled the elderly man to the sidewalk as the car drove past and through a red light.
“Guuhhh” The man groaned.
“Oh, shit.” Marinette stood up quickly, pulling the man to his feet with her. “Sir, are you alright?”
He blinked his brown eyes slowly, as though he was looking right into her soul. “Oh, I’m fine dear. Thank you for saving me.”
“It was no trouble at all, mister.” Marinette said, bending down to grab the man's cane. She allowed herself a moment to mourn the delicious macarons she was supposed to bring to her class, that were all now smashed flatter than a pancake.
She stood quickly and shoved the cane at the man, running to the school and yelling behind her, “Have a nice day!”
---
Marinette slipped through the door with half a second to spare.
Nino, a boy with cocoa brown skin who’s been wearing the same red baseball cap since Marinette met him last year, whistled. “Not late, Marinette. You just made me 5 bucks.” He turned in his seat to look at Max. “Pay up, Kanté.”
The class snickered.
“Settle down, students.” Miss Bustier said. “Marinette, please sit next to our new student, Alya.” She pointed to the bench behind Nino where an unfamiliar girl sat.
“Hi, I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Marinette waved as she sat down.
“I’m Alya Césaire.” The girl said. She had skin similar to Nino’s, big round glasses and brown hair.
“Good morning everyone!” Ms Bustier cheered, gathering all of the students' attention. “Welcome to the first day of class. For those of you who I didn’t teach last year, my name is Ms Bustier. Regretfully, one of our students hasn’t arrived and we’ll have to start without him.”
“We can’t!” Chloé Bourgeois exclaimed. “Adrikins isn’t here yet! We can’t start without him!”
“Adrien will just have to catch up tomorrow. Now, how about we go around and start with some icebreakers.”
The teacher’s smile was just a little bit too wide to be natural.
---
“SHUT UP!”
“Mister Bruel!” Ms Bustier whipped her head around to the back of the classroom. “I do not appreciate being spoken to like that!”
“O-Oh, Miss Bustier,” Poor Ivan looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “I-I-I wasn’t talking to y-”
“I don’t want to hear it. Principal's office, now .” She pointed to the classroom exit with a glare on her face.
“But I didn’t do anything.”
“Tell that to Mr Damocles.”
Ivan looked like he wanted to argue, then everything changed.
By some unknown phenomenon, the whole class caught sight of a purple butterfly flying inside from an open window.
It seemed to glow faintly in the light, but that was impossible.
It fluttered gracefully over to Ivan and landed on a crumpled up piece of paper clutched in his fist.
Marinette wouldn’t know it, but her life once again changed forever that moment.
A glowing purple mask eerily moth-shaped appeared over Ivan’s face.
A moment or two passed in utter silence, before their fate was sealed with two words.
“Yes, Hawkmoth.”
Ivan’s body all of a sudden appeared to be covered in purple black goo, only lasting a few moments. The silhouette of his body grew tall and broad. The top of the goo, where his head must have been, nearly touched the ceiling.
The goo fell away as quick as it appeared, and instead of Ivan standing there, there stood a type of monster only seen from videos of Justice League battles and nightmares. A hulking figure made of stones stacked on top of each other in a way that made it look like a 9 foot football player. It’s eyes were a glowing green, and that was about as expressive it could be.
Screams filled the classroom in a horrific symphony.
Marinette felt her eyes widen and her heart rate spike. Her body moved before she even knew what she was doing. She instinctively grabbed the person closest to her, which happened to be Alya, and pulled her under the table with her to safety, placing her body in front of her away from the danger. Alya’s eyes were wide and her hand shook just enough to tell Marinette she was in shock from the unexpected situation.
Mylène Haprèle, who was previously sitting next to Ivan, scrambled back out of her seat on the floor. She was screaming and looked less than a second from a panic attack.
The creature let out a roar that shook the building, then spoke in a low, rough voice like gravel: “I AM STONEHEART!”
He began to step forward, causing students to move out of the way in a frenzy of clumsy limbs.
Stoneheart bent his knees slightly, just long enough for someone to wonder what he was about to do, and jumped.
Through the wall of the classroom, on the second floor, and onto the Parisian streets.
His body landed on a few unfortunate cars on the street below, crushing them and their inhabitants.
No one could have survived that.
Stoneheart took a step forward, slowed down by the sheer weight of his own body.
The class fell into silence, watching the back of the monster lumber though the roads of Paris.
Marinette quietly and cautiously stood up from under the table, gazing out of the new hole in the classroom.
The whole class was now covered in drywall dust and most had bloody elbows or knees they had acquired from their attempt to flee.
Some people were looking at her now, since she was the only one brave enough to stand. Even Miss Bustier was peeking over the back of her desk, drywall dusted in her red hair.
Naturally, Marinette broke the silence in the most inappropriate and appropriate way possible.
“Holy shit.”
---
Class was dismissed.
Marinette wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. The school clearly didn’t have protocols for students turning into murderous rock monsters, not that she could blame them.
But she did think parental permission to leave the school should have been in effect.
As her classmates were leaving, Marinette caught sight of Juleka and ran up to meet her.
“Hey, Juleka!”
The girl didn’t stop walking down the hall, but Marinette caught up and started walking beside her.
A lot had changed in their relationship.
Marinette wasn’t even sure they had a relationship anymore. It had taken months for her to stop pretending like she didn’t exist. By the end of the year, she could get one word answers or small sentences.
Marinette would admit that it stung.
A lot.
Though she understood her old friend was still going through stuff. Marinette wasn’t sure if the girl had processed everything that happened.
Their new class knew nothing about what happened at their previous one, so no one noticed Jukela’s differences in behaviour. Like how her clothes changed from bright and bubbly, to dark, modest and goth. They didn’t know how she used to smile at the smallest things, and how her smiles became rare and scarce. They didn't know how she could talk for hours on end about meaningless things, and now her words were few and far between.
So Marinette watched Juleka from afar. She quickly made great friends with Rose, who talked enough for the two of them.
And Marinette was happy for her. Even if it caused her heart to crack just a bit.
Because Rose could make Juleka smile. Could make her talk. Could make her just a bit more happy than she was a minute before.
So Marinette could be happy for her.
But that didn’t mean she would stop trying to salvage anything that was left of their relationship.
“I know your brother Luka goes to a different school, and no one else lives in the same direction as you, so I could walk you home. I need to do some shopping down by the pier anyways. It would be no trouble at all.”
Juleka didn’t even falter in her step as she responded. “I'm fine.” Her curtain of black and purple hair shielded her eyes from view.
“I wouldn’t want you to have to go home alone, especially now. With a supervillain on the loose.”
“Luka texted and said he’d meet me at that old flower shop so we could walk home together.”
Marinette was growing desperate. “I could walk you there.”
“It’s down the street. I’ll be fine.” And Juleka started hurrying off out of the school.
“Bye, Juleka! See you tomorrow!” Marinette waved after her.
She didn’t get a response.
---
Marinette sighed and walked out the school doors, only to suck in a harsh breath.
She could see students wandering around, looking at the smoke rising from the crushed cars. Civilians were helping each other to sit on the sidewalk, handing out water bottles and food they bought from the bakery. Emergency responders hadn’t arrived yet, most likely occupied with whatever wreckage Stoneheart was causing elsewhere.
Marinette tried not to look too closely at the accident as she passed. She could see a few students throwing up in trash cans or on the concrete just from the sight.
She smelt the smoke and could still hear the yelling from the pedestrians as she pushed open the bakery door.
Marinette hasn’t seen the bakery this crowded since Christmas, the most popular time of the year. There must be at least three dozen people crammed inside, ten at the counter buying any beverage and food they still had in stock.
Her parents were so overloaded with work she just left and entered in the back way so she wouldn’t have to fight her way through the mob.
She left a note on the refrigerator saying she got home safe and that she would be in her room.
Marinette climbed the stairs to her room, closing the trap door behind her with a quiet creak. She threw her backpack in the corner, it would have to be cleaned from all the drywall dust. So would her clothes.
She was about to go to her closest in search of a new outfit when she spotted something on her desk. She walked over and looked down.
A hexagon shaped box with a Chinese like symbol on the top was placed in the center of her desk.
Sabine probably put it there, Marinette thought.
She picked it up, inspecting it for a moment before she opened it.
Marinette was blinded by a bright white light, and she flinched back.
Her vision cleared and she looked up to see a tiny, but kind of giant, floating, red, thing .
“Ahhhhh!” Marinette stumbled back, pointing at the strange being. “Bug! Mouse! Bug-mouse!”
Then, if that wasn’t enough weirdness for one day, the thing spoke. “Just calm down-”
“It talks! It talks! Giant talking bug-mouse, thing! ”
“Yes, I do. I am a kwami. My name is Tikki. It’s nice to meet you.” The thing, Tikki, smiled.
The apparent kwami was a weird creature. It’s head was vastly overly large for its tiny body. It had pearly white teeth, violet coloured eyes, red skin and a big black dot in the middle of it’s forehead.
And it was floating.
There were no wings in sight, the creature was simply floating in mid air. The only thing that could remotely relate to helping it fly were the long antennae on the top of its crown. But with their lack of movement and size, Marinette severely doubted that.
“What the hell is a Kwami, you, you, you talking bug-mouse?” Marinette said. “Actually, what the hell is happening? Period.”
It spoke in a high and slightly squeaky voice. “I know you have a lot of questions.”
“Oh, do I.”
“But I’ll give you the quick version now. You see that box, the one that has the earrings in it.”
Marinette looked at the strange box in her hand. Sure enough, two stud earrings sat inside. The gems were round red circles with five black dots on each of them, reminiscent of ladybug spots.
“Those earrings are called a Miraculous. A Miraculous is a magical gem, usually in the form of jewelry, that is tied to a kwami and gives its user special powers. This is the Ladybug Miraculous, having the power of Luck and Creation. I am the kwami tied to the Miraculous.”
Marinette blinked. “Okaaaaay?”
“You have questions.”
“So many.”
“I’ll get to them. Anyways, the wearer of the Miraculous can access their powers by calling ‘Spots on’ for the Ladybug Miraculous. Different Miraculi have different activation phrases. Once the wearer calls on their powers, they transform to have superhuman abilities and different clothing. Us kwami are the power source of our Miraculous. Once they call the transformation, we are sucked into the Miraculous and will be tired after the battle.”
“Battle!”
“The Miraculous are created to stop forces of evil. We give you powers and weapons to face whatever villain you are. The Ladybug Miraculous has the power of Lucky Charm, which can be called by throwing your weapon into the air and saying the name, which gives you a tool or clue to help you win the battle. Once called, you will have 5 minutes before the transformation automatically falls. The other power is called the Cure, which is called by saying ‘Miraculous Ladybug’, and sets anything that was damaged in the battle back to how it was previously. Including death.”
“Well that's nice and all but,” Marinette dreaded the answer, already having a guess. “where do I fit into this?”
“The Butterfly Miraculous, which has the power of Transmission, has been taken and corrupted. Stoneheart is an akuma, a pawn used by the wearer of the Miraculous. An akuma is created by negative emotions. A corrupted butterfly will land on something important to the akuma, allowing the wearer to speak with the victim. It will then transform them into a creature with superhuman abilities. Powers an akuma has varies, usually associated with what led to the negative emotion that fuels them. To defeat an akuma, you must break the akumatized object to free the butterfly, which will free the victim.”
That wasn’t a lot of information to take in at once.
“You said you. As in me. As in Marinette?”
Tikki flew directly in front of the girl’s face, causing her to cross her eyes. “You, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, are the new holder of the Ladybug Miraculous. You are the only one with the power to defeat Stoneheart.”
“WHAT! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.” Marinette panicked, starting to pace her room. “You’ve got the wrong person. Most definitely. It can’t be me. I’m just some random 12 year old girl. Nothing special about me. You have the wrong person.”
“No, Marinette. It has to be you.”
“No, it doesn’t. There’s no way I could defeat some supervillain. Definitely not alone.”
“You won’t be alone. You will have a partner, the holder of the Black Cat Miraculous of Bad Luck and Destruction.”
“I can’t do it.”
“Yes, you can. Everyone is counting on you.”
Marinette froze.
“Everyone is counting on me?”
“Everyone is counting on you.”
“But-but I’ve seen him kill people. I can’t do it.”
Her palms felt sweaty just thinking about it.
“If you don’t fight Stoneheart, he’ll continue to wreak havoc and kill more. You have to fight, you’re the only one who can reverse the damage. You have to save everyone.”
Her stomach flipped.
Marinette closed her eyes.
This was insane!
This couldn’t be happening to her.
She’s just the adopted daughter of two bakers.
She couldn’t possibly have this much responsibility.
This much power.
She couldn’t be this important.
But what if she was?
Hasn’t there always been that itch in the back of her mind saying something is going to change.
That made her calculate her surroundings unlike everyone else did.
That tingle that made her want to dare to try dangerous stunts.
Like the twitch in her leg that made her want to commit to parkour.
Or the tightening in her arm just begging for her to hit something.
Was this why?
Was this why she always had that feeling like something was coming.
That things were going to change.
That she was more important than she thought.
Was this it?
Making up her mind, Marinette turned to face Tikki.
She wiped her palms on her pants and curled them into fists. They didn’t shake or tremble. Her stomach and heart settled. Her lungs stopped contracting, and she took a deep breath.
Marientte’s eyes were not filled with tears. They were hard as steel. Completely sure of her decision.
“I’ll do it.”
Notes:
There is at least one person cursing me out right now, and I'm sorry.
Especially for Juleka.
I love her but I'm setting her up to have a bigger role later on.
I think there's going to be more plot in the next chapter. No promises though.Once I'm done setting up the beginning of the Miraculous canon, the story will pic up a lot.
Sorry I'm drawing this out so long!Please comment :)
Chapter 11: First Meetings
Notes:
Sooo, I'm not dead, (yay!)
I'm sorry I haven't posted in like, 2 months. I got Covid during that surge back in January, and I couldn't go to the hospital because they were all full. I've been struggling to catch up in school again, but I've finally got my footing and am doing better. I'm still not as healthy as I was before, but that's to be expected.
I'll try to update weekly, but don't be surprised if I don't.
This chapter isn't particularly interesting, but necessary. So I wrote a Oneshot that in this series, so go check that out please.Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Marinette felt weird.
Like she’d stepped right into where she belonged and was greeted like an old friend. But also like she’s stepped so far out of her comfort zone she couldn’t see the line anymore.
The suit was ok, Marinette supposed. It wasn’t great, nor was it bad. It appeared covering her body in a flash of pink light, it was bright red with black spots all over. It was skin tight, not in an uncomfortable way or revealing. She was completely covered in a spandex Kevlar like fabric from neck to toe. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun that sat at the top of her head, two red ribbons poking out, reminiscent of antennae. Her head only had a red and black spotted domino mask concealing her identity.
And then there was the other part.
Tikki must have forgotten to mention the glamor charm that surrounded her. It wasn’t bad , exactly. She must have grown at least a foot and a half in height. Her face had matured somewhat, making it impossible to tell what her age was. Marinette looked 12 and 37 all at once.
Then there were the more obvious changes. Like that she had skipped puberty and now had a body to make a barbie doll jealous. Her hair changed to a navy blue colour instead of black and her eyes changed to a grey hue. Not the ‘I’m blind and can’t see’ kind of grey, but the colour of her iris was a ‘thundercloud and lightning’ kind of grey. Especially with the few golden flecks to give them an intimidating edge.
Marinette swallowed and took a step forward, expecting to feel clumsy with the new height and eye level.
Instead, she felt more steady and light on her feet than she had ever felt in her 12 year old body. Her sense of balance was strong and didn’t give her the feel of having to check for steps or cracks in the sidewalk so she wouldn’t trip over them.
Marinette felt light, strong, and confident.
It was a bit odd, but felt like something she used to be familiar with.
Marinette climbed out onto her balcony through the sunroof and noticed one small hiccup.
Her weapon was a yoyo.
What the hell was she supposed to do with a yoyo?
It must have been the magic of the suit that made her pick up her yoyo and sling it to a rooftop across from hers.
Her body seemed to know what to do. She gave the string a tug and pulled her legs under her. She gracefully swung across the chasm between buildings and landed on her feet.
Marinette looked around. “Okaaay… So this is really happening.” She then realized she had no idea where Stoneheart was.
“Shit.”
---
After swinging around Paris for 15 minutes, Marinette still hadn’t found Stoneheart. What she did find, however, was her partner.
She landed on the edge of a building overlooking a deserted street. That was another weird thing. The streets of Paris were always bustling with activity. Now everyone was staying at home away from the akuma.
Down below, between two buildings on opposite sides of the road was a long metal pole. Standing on said pole was her partner.
He was wearing all black leather, with an obvious cat theme. His gloves were sharp at the fingertips like claws and a black belt hung around his waist and behind like a tail. Two black cat ears were pinned to the top of his head, and twitched slightly as though he could really hear with them. And wasn’t that a mildly disturbing thought.
“Hey, Kitty!” Marinette called down to him.
He looked up at her and Marinette resisted the urge to suck in a breath. His eyes were lime green with slitted pupils, just like a cat. His sandy blonde hair had brownish highlights, making it look a bit like fur. His age was hard to tell, and she couldn’t figure out what made him look that way. Like her, he looked like he could be a child or middle aged.
He smiled and she couldn’t be sure, but she thought his canines were just a bit too sharp to be natural.
“Hi. I guess you’re my partner.” He said, and walked across the pole with his arms spread out. He grinned devilishly and swayed back and forth, enjoying himself.
He was goofing off.
“I guess I am.”
“Great!”
Boom!
An explosion sounded off in the distance, rocking the ground and sending her partner tumbling to the ground in a heap of black.
“What the hell!” He exclaimed.
A mushroom cloud rose into the air. The dust was tinged with red and gold, making her assume there was a fire as well.
Marinette turned to face her partner, hand on her yoyo. “How much do you know about the situation?”
“I-I-I… Uhhhh…”
The poor guy was so pale his skin was near translucent.
“How much do you know!” Marinette snapped, patience thin. They didn’t have time for this. His kwami clearly didn’t fill him in enough.
“I know that there's a magical supervillain and that we’re going to go defeat his pawn.”
“Have you seen the news at all? Any updates on what’s happening?”
He shook his head. He looked scared out of his mind. Marinette tried to push away the fact that he was probably the same age as her.
And more clueless on what to do than she was.
She extended her hand to him, even with him a whole building below her. “I’ll update you on the way. People are in danger. We have to go now.”
He stood on unsteady legs and reached up to press a button on the pole between the buildings. It collapsed into a silver baton in his hand.
He looked so unsure. So scared and frightened.
He was holding his weapon in his hand, unsure how to use it and completely in the dark about what they were about to face.
Marinette could relate, but she couldn’t give him the time he needed to process everything like she wanted to.
Everyone was relying on them.
Marinette offered the kindest smile she could muster up.
“I’m sorry, Kitty. But playtime’s over.”
---
“Did you see the news? Two new superheroes are in Paris. We haven’t seen any since Wonder Woman moved away.” Alya rambled, absentmindedly pushing her glasses up her nose. “Do you think they work with the Justice League? Or that we’ve got brand new heroes starting up?”
“I’m not sure.” Marinette admitted, walking alongside Alya to class. It felt strange, knowing that the street outside and the building itself had had massive damage inflicted. Not to mention how many people died on that very same road, and yet students are expected to attend class like nothing ever happened. “I don’t think they are part of the Justice League. I think we would have seen some big time heroes here yesterday if they were.”
“Maybe, but it seemed to me that our heroes had the situation covered.”
Marinette numbly tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, brushing against the foreign weight in her earlobes.
“Maybe…”
---
“Who the hell are you? And what the fuck are you doing?”
Marinette was willing to admit that she was more irritable today. Through no fault of her own, having to attend school immediately after a traumatizing ordeal.
Entering the classroom to see a blonde boy who most definitely was not there yesterday, poking at gum on her seat, was just a lovely cherry on top of her already crappy mood.
Stop thinking about that hole in the wall, Marinette! It isn’t there anymore.
“Oh!” The blond boy turned around, light green eyes wide. His sun kissed cheeks reddened. “I… well… you see…”
“Yessss?” Marinette drawled, arms crossed.
Kim told her once, about a year ago, that she could be really scary when she was mad. He said her face went completely still, hard as a rock. And her eyes looked like they were half a second from turning into lasers Superman style and slicing you to bits.
From the look on the boys face, Kim might not have been too far off.
“A- A- Agreste! Adrien Agreste!” The boy thrust his hand out awkwardly, at a loss of what to do.
Marinette took a step forward confidently.
No, Marinette! There isn’t any ruble on the floor, because nothing is broken.
“Well, Mr Model, just because you have money doesn’t mean you can get away with being a dick.”
Agreste looked completely flabbergasted. “W-What?”
“Yup. I don’t give a crap about how much money you have. Now move the fuck over so I can get that gum off the wood.”
Marinette pushed past the frozen model, pulling out a tissue to dispose of the gum. She didn’t have time for asshole models, especially if he was anything like Chloé.
When Miss Bustier entered the room and began teaching, Marinette forced herself to take a breath.
There isn’t any plaster dust in your lungs! It’s all in your head!
Marinette tapped her pencil against her notebook, before her hand forced itself to still upon reflex.
Her bracelet glowed faintly.
It’s all in your head.
---
‘PEOPLE TURNING TO STONE ACROSS PARIS. SWARMS OF BUTTERFLIES AT EVERY SCENE.’
The headline shouted at Marinette, bouncing around in her skull in a way that made the already existing pain behind her eyes pound.
Ding!
Ding!
Ding!
Fellow students around her started pulling out their phones, scrolling through an endless stream of news notifications.
Marinette felt all the air suck out of her lungs in a single moment.
She dashed across the street to the bakery, not pausing for anyone or anything. Or at least trying too.
She couldn’t help it if her feet faltered at the sight of a smaller version of Stoneheart on the sidewalk, frozen mid step yet eyes glowing bright.
Her shoes pounded against the steps of her home, Marinette electing to forget about taking her shoes off so she could reach her room faster. The trapdoor slammed open with a thud and closed with just as much force.
“Tikki!” Marinette hissed, opened her bag for the kwami to fly out. “What the hell is happening! Everyone is turning to stone!”
“Did you capture the akuma?” Tikki asked, violet eyes wide.
“I was supposed to capture it?”
“Yes. I must have forgotten to tell you.” The extra squeak in the kwamis voice showed her stress. “If you don’t capture the akuma and purify it with your yoyo, it will multiply. The butterflies will infect people, spreading like a disease. Once Ivan feels a strong negative emotion, and he is akumatized again, he will be able to control a whole army of Stonehearts.”
Marinette’s eyes widened. “WHAT! We could barely handle one between the two of us.”
“I know, but there’s nothing we can do to change it now.”
“What do we do?”
“We keep Ivan from getting akumatized for as long as possible, until you have a plan.”
“Me?” Marinette panicked. “No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. I- I can’t do this.”
“Of course you can. You’re Ladybug.”
“No, no, no. I’m not. I’m not.” Marinette started to pace, spiraling quickly. “I- I- I can’t- I just can’t do this.”
“Marinette, calm down.” Tikki soothed.
“I’m so sorry. You chose the wrong Ladybug. It can’t be me. I can’t do this.”
The kwami flew right in front of her face, making her cross her eyes to focus on her. “You can do this!”
“No! I can’t. I’m sorry, Tikki. I’m just not Ladybug.”
Marinette reached for her ears.
“Wai-!”
Silence deafened the room as Marinette pulled out her earrings, a pink light popping Tikki out of existence.
She shut the earrings inside of the hexagonal box with a quiet click.
“I’m sorry.” Marinette whispered. “I’m not Ladybug. I’m not a hero.”
Notes:
Marinette isn't doing so good, (neither is Damian but he's working on it).
Marinette is a little bitchy in this chap, but she has every right to be bitchy. She got thrust into this whole thing, without much of a choice.
We've got one more Origin's chap before we check back in on Damian. I know the origins is kinda boring, but bear with me.
Go read my newest oneshot.
I'll try and update in a timely fashion, but I'm still kinda sick.Please comment :)
Chapter 12: First Promise
Notes:
Last origins chapter! Finally!
Sorry I haven't posted in a bit (again).Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Isn’t it great, sweetheart.” Maman said, distractedly baking. “Paris finally has its own set of heroes.”
“I’m not so sure.” Marinette said hesitantly, clutching her cup of coffee that had long since turned cold. For once, she had woken up early, riddled with nerves and anxiety.
“Oh don’t worry.” Maman squeezed her piping bag of red and black frosting on a few cupcakes. Red velvet with chocolate chips, for Ladybug. “I know it may seem scary that there’s a new supervillain in Paris, but everything will be fine. You saw what Ladybug’s powers were, right? She can bring back the dead. No one will get hurt.”
Marinette swallowed the lump in her throat. “R-Right.”
“Oh,” Maman said, like an afterthought. “Don’t you have to get to school?”
She glanced down at her watch, eyes growing wide. “I’m going to be late!”
Her Maman’s laugh followed her out the door as she sprinted to school.
---
Marinette arrived on the dot, and was lucky enough to notice that Miss Bustier was late herself. She probably would have been there earlier if not for nearly tripping down the stairs when she noticed a frozen rock monster in the middle of the hallway.
It was unsettling to see Stoneheart’s face in school, again.
“Girl, over here!” Alya called, waving her hands around exaggeratingly.
Marinette walked over to her new friend, sitting next to her on the bench. “Hey, Alya. What’s up?”
“Girl,” She started, her eyes lighting up with glee. “I started a website dedicated to the heroes of Paris. I’m calling it the LadyBlog.”
“Oh?” Marinette blinked, not sure how to respond. “That’s… nice?
Alya grinned. “It’s amazing. I already have so many subscribers. Probably from the close up videos I got of the akuma battle. I’m going to write articles about the heroes, but I don’t have that much information yet.” Her grin dimmed. “I don’t even know who the villain is… Oh! Oh, oh, oh.” Alya reached out and grabbed Marinette’s arm, eyes wide with a strange sort of realization. “Oh no. Do you think the heroes know who the villain is? I mean, we didn’t get to see him face to face. Not like the Joker or Captain Cold.”
Marinette held back a flinch. No, she had no idea who she was fighting.
Or, used to be fighting.
A shrill laugh sounded as Chloé Bourgeois herself sauntered into the room, Sabrina skipping behind. “We haven’t seen the villain face to face? Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous! The villain is sitting right over there.” The blonde pointed to the back of the room.
Ivan sank in his seat, nearly disappearing under the table.
“That’s not fair!” Mylène said, sitting up a tad straighter in her seat. “Ivan doesn’t remember anything! He was being mind controlled!”
Ivan sent a soft smile to Mylène, who placed a gentle hand on his arm.
“He’s lying. There’s no one to confirm his story. I’m sure Daddy would be very upset learning I’m in class with a supervillain. Adrikins, back me up.”
Agreste looked up from his conversation with Nino, head darting back and forth between Chloé and everyone else. “Uhhhh….”
“Oh, so you’re going to tattle back to daddy dearest. ” Alya interrupted, scoffing. “What is this? Kindergarten? Ivan said he doesn’t remember anything, and since the heroes didn’t arrest him, I’m going out on a limb here and assuming that means he was mind controlled. And mind control isn’t even that uncommon in America. Plenty of villains have that power.”
Marinette marveled for a moment at how the girl had jumped into the conversation so suddenly, defending Ivan.
“How do we even know they are heroes, huh?” Chloé turned her nose up.
“Because they saved our lives. That’s enough for me.”
“Chlo-” Marinette started, only to be cut off as the door opened.
“Good morning, class!” Miss Bustier started, smiling wide. “Sorry I’m late, everyone. The principal just had a few things to go over with teachers. It’s nice to see that everyone could make it today.”
Unlike that poor kid in the hallway, Marinette thought bitterly.
She glanced over at her seat mate. Alya was pulling out her tablet and stylist, ready to start taking notes. She was obsessed with heroes. She had a good moral compass. She was clearly brave, after running into the thick of an akuma battle.
Marinette pulled the small box out of her bag, slipping it into Alya’s under the table.
She breathed deeply.
It was fine.
Everything was fine.
---
Everything was not fine.
During break, something went wrong. Marinette wasn’t sure what.
One second, she was idly chatting with Alya about something she couldn’t even remember, the next, her ears were filled with screams. For just a fraction of a second, Marinette thought, Well this is it. I’m going crazy.
And she would have believed it was all in her head if not for the expression that crossed the other lingering students' faces around the room.
Alya’s eyes shot wide open, her face somewhere between deathly fear, excitement, and blind stupidity. “This is it! There’s another akuma!”
And just like that, she was running out of the room like a shot.
“Wha-” Marinette glanced over at her seat.
Alya’s bag was still there, with the miraculous inside.
“ Shit. ”
And then Marinette was running out of the room, chasing Alya’s excited yelling about superheroes in the wind.
Marinette did not trip on air once she saw the stone monster's eyes were several shades brighter.
Marinette raced through the school's overly large doors onto the streets.
She most definitely did not not tense when she heard the screaming from outside.
It was absolute chaos. People were running left and right, cars brakes screeching to avoid pedestrians and other cars.
She absolutely did not feel all the air on her lungs leave her as dread pooled in her stomach.
Before her, only a few yards away, stood Stoneheart in all his glory.
In one fist he held a crying Mylène, in the other a screaming yet slightly bored looking Chloé.
Stoneheart seemed so much bigger without her miraculous.
Her eyes scanned the street in a panic. Alya had to be close by.
“Take this, you oversized pebble!”
Chat Noir came jumping in out of nowhere. His pole extended mid air and hit the ground like a pole vault. His feet collided with a solid chest, bouncing off like he was as light as a feather.
Stoneheart’s eyes became half a shade brighter, and the rock and minerals he was made of expanded.
Marinette glanced around in fear, clutching Alya’s school bag tightly in her hands until her knuckles turned white.
Her half second of blind panic cost her when she heard a shout, a scream, and strong arms wrapped around her middle as her center of gravity was thrown.
Marinette’s back hit the pavement, a sharp shot of pain going up her spine and what little air she had was knocked out of her. She looked up, being met with a devilish grin.
“Why hello here, princess.” Chat Noir’s slitted eyes glinted, his ears twitching.
Marinette looked around, realizing their awkward position. “Uhhh…..” Her cheeks turned a blazing red.
Chat Noir looked down as well. “Oh.” He stood, grabbing her hand in his claw like one and hoisting her onto her wobbly legs. “Sorry about that. Kinda had to save you from being crushed by a lamp post, you know, being a hero and all.” If possible, his grin turned even more mischievous. “As much as I love saving beautiful ladies, I must be off. Saving the day and all.” He winked, and ran off.
Marinette felt her blush, and resolutely ignored it.
Now is definitely not the time.
Her gaze zeroed in on a person barely 20 meters away.
“ALYA!”
It was too late by then.
The self proclaimed reporter was too focused on the footage to truly take in what she was recording. A red car, big and heavy, sailed through the air. One moment, it looked near weightless, the next moment, the car was crushed under its own weight on the sidewalk, anything underneath long gone.
“ALYA!”
Marinette ran forward, dropping to her knees next to the upside down vehicle. Her pants tore and her knees stung, but that didn’t matter. Alya’s legs and lower torso were crushed to splinters. Blood and car fluid slowly leaked out from under the car and onto the sidewalk, painting it like a horrific landscape.
Marinette felt her stomach turn, bile rising in her throat.
Alya’s head was tilted to the side, her hair coating itself in the blood and breaker fluid. Her glasses were shattered, eyes glassy and empty.
“No…” Marinette whispered, taking Alya’s hand from where it was laid next to her. It was dull and heavy, lifeless as the human it belonged to. “No, no, no.”
Marinette turned to the side, losing her stomach onto the red pavement.
She pulled back gasping, crawling away backwards like that would change anything.
Alya was dead.
Alya was dead.
Alya was dead.
“CHAT NOIR!”
The scream brought Marinette back into her own head, and she turned her neck so fast she could feel whiplash setting in.
Chat Noir was batted away from Stoneheart like an annoying mosquito. He hit the sidewalk hard, the thud audible from the other end of the street.
Marinette gulped.
Chat Noir was going to die.
He needed Ladybug.
Marinette glanced down at Alya's bag slung across her chest, and gripped the strap harshly. She struggled to her feet, darting into an alley hoping it was private enough.
She plunged her hand inside and gripped the hexagonal box. Marinette opened it, blinded yet again by a rosy pink light.
“Marinette! I knew you would come around.” Tikki cheered.
She plucked out the earrings, dropping the box on the alley ground, uncaring. “We have to help Chat Noir.”
“You’re right. I know you can do this.”
“I hope so.”
She pushed the cool metal through her pierced ears so quickly she worried she would find blood there later.
“Tikki, spots on!”
---
It was one of the worst days of her life.
Stoneheart was a tall, strong, unmovable object. Mylène and Chloé were both clasped in his rough and gentle fists as he made his escape across the city. Then Chloé wasn’t clasped in his fist anymore, because Stoneheart chucked her off the Eiffel Tower like a rag doll.
Marinette, or rather Ladybug (because Marinette and Ladybug are completely different people and Marinette sure isn’t a hero), swung her legs and dropped though the air with a strange grace. Plummeting, stomach swooping, Ladybug managed to catch up to Chloé midair and wrap an arm around her waist. Ladybug flicked her yoyo, snagging it on a support beam of the Eiffel Tower, and her arm just about popped right out of its socket.
Then Ladybug placed Chloé gently on her feet, firmly on the ground and the blonde stumbled away like she was intoxicated. Chloé turned to her, “Thank you, Ladybug.” and it struck her that she had never, ever, seen Chloé looking scared about anything, yet here she was trembling like a leaf in the wind. There was awe in her voice, something she had never heard from her either, never mind directed at her.
“It was no problem. Just try not to get thrown off of tall structures.” Ladybug gave a slightly awkward wave to her bully, (and wasn't that a strange concept), before flinging her yoyo and launching herself back into the heat of the battle.
---
Everything was as much of a blur as the previous battle.
Ladybug wasn’t completely sure how it happened, but Stoneheart stood on the Eiffel Tower, police staring up, news helicopters circling, with two inexperienced heroes gazing up at him from the ground.
Then the Ladybug persona started to waver at the sight, where Stoneheart looked too strong and impossible to defeat. Marinette, scared, nervous, clumsy Marinette, started leaking through the cracks of her confident persona.
“I… I don’t know what to do. I can’t do this.” She muttered, mostly to herself.
“Of course you can do this.” Chat Noir said anyways. Stupid super hearing. His twitchy ears must actually work.
“No, I can’t.” Marinette shook her head, desperately trying to not chew on her fingernails. Not like it would make a difference. She couldn’t chew them though the suit.
“Hey,” He placed a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to look up. His slitted pupils, while used to be unsettling, were strangely comforting in the moment. “I wouldn’t have made it this far without you. Neither would have anyone else. You saved, so, so many lives the first time we fought him. I know you can do it again.”
Marinette blinked, and Ladybug slid back in as smooth as a gentle breeze.
“You’re right.” Ladybug nodded.
A hacking cough drew their attention upwards again. Stoneheart was doubled over, Mylène screeching at the new angle she was forced into.
A swarm of purple butterflies flew out of his mouth. They circled him for a moment, as Stoneheart fell backwards, temporarily exhausted by his hacking fit. The butterflies flew higher, shifting to take the shape of a man's face.
“People of Paris!” The face spoke, the butterflies fluttering around in a way that made the lips appear to move. “I am Hawkmoth. All you innocent people have suffered greatly from Stoneheart and his followers. I can free you all from this horrible rampage, brought about by Ladybug and Chat Noir. All I need is the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculous!”
Ladybug blinked, thinking, that’s it.
It was pretty anticlimactic, for a villainous speech. And it wasn’t even good.
A slow clapping echoed across the near completely silent street, as Ladybug strode forward, confidence radiating off of her. “Nice try, Hawkmoth. But I think it’s been made clear who the bad guy is, in this situation. After all, we’re not the ones enslaving and brainwashing innocent civilians. Chat Noir and I are going to take you down. In fact,” Ladybug turned away from the Eiffel Tower, turning her head to face the closest news camera. She spoke loud and clear, enunciating every word so they would be unmistakable. “I, Ladybug, promise every resident of Paris that I will defeat Hawkmoth. I will not rest until our city is free of his control.”
Chat Noir caught her eye, giving her an expression she wasn’t able to decipher from the distance between them.
Ladybug flashed a sunny smile, and Hawkmoth roared .
---
Marinette’s feet ached.
The recently repaired city of Paris was teeming with life, causing Marinette to dodge unsuspecting pedestrians on the sidewalk while trying not to trip on air.
Her previous injuries, from before and while she was transformed, were no longer seen. A dull throb made itself known at the base of her spine, but she ignored it in favor of pounding her feet across the sidewalk.
Françoise Dupont came into view as Marinette turned the corner, tipping to the side as she caught her balance. A light drizzle landed in her hair, mildly cold air whipping her cheeks when she didn’t slow her pace.
The front steps of the school were busy, students coming and going out of the building. Marinette raced past all of them, by the time she threw open the classroom door, she was sweaty and panting.
A girl with ombre hair stood next to her usual seat, scrolling on her phone.
“Alya!” Marinette yelled, throwing her arms around the other girl.
Alya grunted by the surprise assault, awkwardly patting the shorter girl’s back. Perhaps this was too soon for someone she’s known for barely three days. Marinette jumped back like she was stung, at that realization.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I totally jumped the gun there. I should have asked first. Please don’t be mad. I’m just so glad you’re ok. I saw what happened, and I guess I-”
“Girl.” Alya placed her hands on Marinette’s shoulders, abruptly cutting off her rambling. “Are you ok?”
“Ok! Me, Ok?” Marinette chuckled humorlessly. “Are you ok? You literally died! I saw it!”
“Girl, I’m fine. Just disappointed I didn’t get more footage for the fight.” Alya pulled her hands away. “You, on the other hand, do not look ok. Did you run a whole marathon?”
Marinette chuckled, still hollowly. “Something like that.”
---
While Marinette was inside, the light sprinkle of rain had turned into a complete downpour.
She sighed. The bakery was just across the road at the corner, but even that quick sprint would leave her dripping. Marinette didn’t think she had the energy to run for it either.
She opened her backpack, pulling out a magazine a customer had left at the Bakery yesterday. ‘LADYBUG, FRANCE’S NEWEST FEMALE HERO’ glared boldly down at her as she raised the paper above her head in a poor excuse of protection.
Just as she was about to resign herself to her fate, a voice spoke behind her.
“Do you fancy a cold shower?”
Marinette turned, and glared at Adrien Agreste. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, Mr Model?” She tilted her head to the black car parked directly in front of the school.
Agreste winced. “Yeah…” He stepped in front of her, popping out his umbrella before he left the shelter of the overhang. He hesitated. “Look… About the gum…”
Marinette scowled.
“It wasn’t me. I just want you to know I was trying to get it off, I didn’t put it here.”
“Oh yeah?” Marinette challenged. “How am I supposed to believe you? After all, you sure are thick as thieves with Chloé Bourgeois.”
He pursed his lips. “I’ve known Chloé for as long as I can remember, she’s my first friend. She’s… She’s complicated.”
Marinette raised a judgmental eyebrow.
“Here.” Agreste thrusted out his hand holding the umbrella. “How about we trade. My ride is right there, and wherever you’re going, it’s farther than me.”
Marinette’s face softened, ever so slightly. “You sure?”
“Y-Yeah. Of course.” He nodded more than necessary.
Marinette handed over the newspaper, taking the umbrella in hand. Adrien looked down at the paper, smiling.
“You’ve got good taste.” He said. “Ladybug’s my new favorite superhero. She’s super hot.”
And because the universe gifted Marinette with the unique ability of making a fool out of herself, her thumb slipped and the umbrella closed around her. Perhaps it was a mercy, hiding her quickly reddening cheeks.
A light, happy laugh sounded as Marinette peaked from under her newest cage. Adrien’s eyes sparked as he smiled, and surely his teeth couldn’t be that white.
“See you tomorrow, Marinette.”
Adrien took off running for the car, the newspaper quickly becoming soaked. But he didn’t seem to care, as he gave a short wave when he opened the door.
“Uh… S-S-See you t-tomorrow, A-A-Adri-ien.”
Marinette winced. She could feel Tikki giggling in her purse.
What the hell was that?
Oh god, Marinette realized.
I have a crush.
Notes:
Origins are officially done!
You have no idea how excided I am to be done with those. Plot should be coming back next chapter, which I'm super excited about!
Next chapter belongs to Damian, with a surprise guest! It's coming as soon as possible, I promise.Please comment :)
Chapter 13: Start Over?
Notes:
Wow, I actually published this on time.
My surprise guest is here!
I love this chapter go just go read it.Enjoy :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Damian was trying.
He may not show it, but he really was.
Duke Thomas crashed into his life, kicking, screaming, and silent to everyone else. Bruce took to him like a moth to a flame, training him patiently and helping him learn about his powers.
Dick moved back to Bludhaven after Bruce returned, traveling back to Gotham as much as possible. But not nearly enough.
Cassandra, perhaps the only tolerable amongst the colony his father had gathered, temporarily moved back into the Manor. Most of the time, she was off with the Birds of Prey, but her presence was known in the house again.
Jason Todd began wandering into the Manor at random enough times, eventually everyone stopped questioning it. He was brash, hostile, called him ‘Demon Spawn’, but was recklessly loyal when on missions with Robin.
Tim Drake started working at Wayne Enterprise as co-CEO, and Damian would be the first to admit that stung.
Bruce Wayne was preoccupied. Busy with repairing his relationship with Jason, then worried about Cass, then leaning on Dick like a cane, then working with Tim, and training Duke.
He would have to admit, his relationship with his father had improved. Though they were far from a good one.
Damian would never forget the stab of fear he felt grip his chest the first time he saw Duke in the Batcave. The compulsive urge to scream “I’m Robin. Robin’s mine! Not his!” at the top of his lungs was very near surfacing.
Thankfully, Duke became a hero named Signal, not Robin.
Robin was something Damian fought for. After Bruce came back from the dead, his father had little clue what to do with a new Robin. It was only Dick, though his tiring arguments with him that convinced Bruce to let Damian keep the mantle.
It wasn’t the same though. Because Damian was Dick’s Robin, not Bruce’s. Dick said that when Batman finally came around, he’d become his Robin.
So Damian waited.
And he tried.
He tried really hard.
Then Duke mother fucking Thomas crashed though Bruce’s walls like paper, clawed his way into the Manor, and stayed like a parasite.
Perhaps what hurt the most, was that Duke brought the family back together. In ways Damian was never capable of trying to accomplish.
When Damian arrived at the Manor, he was rude, arrogant, and grieving. The family was hanging by a thin thread already, and Bruce’s ‘death’ unraveled the tapestry.
And Duke picked up the yarn and wove them back together again, without even knowing. He had no idea that Jason couldn’t stand in the same room as Tim on a good day before. Or that Cass hadn’t been seen in months. Or that Steph and Dick’s reckless nature became just a tad less nerve racking to watch.
Damian wasn’t included in this strange development.
He was caught feeling more seen than ever before, with so many people around in his everyday life, and mind numbingly lonely.
Damian wanted to hate Duke Thomas, the boy who brought back the family, stole Bruce’s attention, and charmed just about every person he came across with a simple smile.
But he couldn’t.
Because as much as he loathed to admit it, Duke was a genuinely nice person. He was kind to a fault, funny in an effortless way, and down to earth in the way the family desperately needed.
So every moment Damian wasn’t at school or locked up in his room, he was surrounded by people who actually weren’t so bad.
But there was also that feeling, every time he walked into a room and a conversation abruptly stopped, or when he found a cluster of blankets and people giggling on the sofa watching a movie he wasn’t invited too.
So Damian started hanging out with Jon more, something Dick was ecstatic about. But more often, he locked himself away in his room, where his only company was Titus, Alfred the cat, and Marinette.
Not the best group for his already wavering mental health.
“Which orange came first? The fruit or the colour?” Marinette muttered, shooting her hair elastic at the ceiling, hair fanned around her on the grey sheets.
“I have no idea.” Damian responded, not turning away from his sketch of Alfred the cat.
“If animals could talk, which would be the rudest of all?”
“Probably the pigeon.”
“If a Smurf starts choking, what colour would it turn?”
“That is a strangely dark thought.”
“Why haven’t you decorate your room?”
“Excuse me?” Damian spun his chair around, raising an eyebrow at his sister.
She shrugged. “I mean, you’ve lived here for, what, 2 years now? And I haven’t seen the room change at all.”
Damian turned away again, pencil hovering over his paper. “I don’t understand the question.”
“It still looks like a guest bedroom.”
“Your point being?”
“You are not a guest.”
He said nothing, usually calm silence punctuated by the sudden lack of lead brushing against paper.
She wasn’t wrong. Damian was strangely conservative with his space, something he learned in the League. He didn’t have anything sentimental back then. Any personal items were tucked safely away and out of sight.
The habit hadn’t changed since moving in with his father. His school supplies were stored out of sight, inside his desk drawers. His clothes were in the closet, and the door was always shut. His one personal indulgence, his art, was stored in the bottom drawer or the back of his closet.
“I…” He trailed off. Marinette had a way of bringing up topics he believed were better left unsaid. “I’m not sure if this is home. I’m not sure what it’s supposed to feel like.”
“It felt like Dick, didn’t it? When he was around more?”
Damian leaned back, twirling his pencil between his fingers.
“Or me?”
He sighed through his nose. “Don’t make me answer that.”
“Do you love them?”
“I don’t know. Not all of them...”
“Yet?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well,” Marinette sat up, tilting her head. “How about we change this room up a bit? I’m starting to find it depressing staring at grey all the time.”
---
Damian started with ripping his drab grey sheets off his bed.
A quick sentence to Alfred saying he thought his room could use a new look, and he was being driven around the city, buying anything he could possibly want for his room.
His new bedding was a deep forest green. Pencils, brushes, and stacks of sketchbooks with thick paper were arranged on his desk. In a glance, the strangely shaped vases on the mahogany shelf were disposed of and replaced with the few books he actually enjoyed. The rest of the space was waiting to be filled with trinkets Alfred claimed everyone would eventually come into possession with.
Damian didn’t like his walls. Or his ceiling.
A trip to the closest hardware store provided more than enough paint for his newest project. Black covered his ceiling, followed by mixes of blues, purples, and a little pink. Then star charts covered his bed as he mapped them out across his ceiling, recreating them to the best of his ability.
“I like it.” Marinette declared, from her usual spot of lying on his bed. “It’s like star gazing.”
He didn’t know what to do with his walls, so he mounted his favorite katana to the wall and sat to select his best sketches to mount the walls.
But there was that painting, hanging above his bed from the first day of his arrival. Damian hated it with a strange passion. Strokes of different shades of grey splashed across the canvas. It looked like it came from a cheap motel, painted by someone with no artistic abilities.
He found a strange glee in tearing it down.
But then the space above his bed seemed even more empty. So Damian asked Alfred for a space where he could paint, because the canvas was too large for his desk and his floor was carpet.
Alfred directed him to a room next to the library Damian had assumed was used for storage. The brand new oil paints and fresh brushes led him to believe his assumption about the room's previous use was correct.
So Damian quickly found himself no longer locking himself in his room, preferring to spend every moment he could in his new art studio.
Alfred started making regular appearances there, checking on him throughout the day. It was comforting.
Occasionally, he would take a break from the large canvas to sketch other things, so his large project took a bit longer than intended.
He started creating a habit of losing track of time, absorbed in his work.
And it was because he spent most of his day holding a jade green tube of oil paint, trying to decide if he should use it. He ended up deciding the colour would make him sick to his stomach if he used it in the context he was picturing.
It was because of this distraction, that time fell away far too fast, which led him to sprinting through the halls of the Manor to attend dinner at the correct time. Because Alfred was understanding, and knew that everyone shouldn’t be expected to arrive at 6 o’clock on dot for dinner every day, but it was Saturday. And Saturday was family dinner, which was sacred, and attendance could only be excused for emergencies Alfred deemed world ending enough.
Damian managed to slip through the doorway and into his seat a second before his watch changed from 6:00 to 6:01.
Todd whistled from across the table. “Cutting it close there, Demon Spawn.”
Damian growled, and kicked him.
“Watch it, bat brat!”
“Boys, no fighting at the dinner table.” Bruce said, bringing his cup to his lips.
Damian rolled his eyes. Jason grumbled some obscenities under his breath that summed up to a simple ‘Fuck off, Batman.’
“Where were you anyways? I haven’t seen the ‘Blood son of Batman’ late to dinner before.” Tim mocked.
“I wasn’t late, Drake.”
“Almost.” Stephanie elbowed Tim on the ribs a little too hard, causing him to wince. “We’ll get him next time. Set some traps, make him come late and be covered in glitter.”
Marinette giggled from the empty seat next to him.
“So…” Duke started, shifting uncomfortably. Damian found minor satisfaction in the fact that Thomas was somewhat terrified of him. “Where were you?”
“By the library.”
“Liar. I was in the library. I sure as hell didn’t see you.”
“Master Jason,” Alfred interjected, not even flinching. “Stop antagonizing Master Damian. In fact, help him move his project after dinner.”
“What!” The butler raised an eyebrow, and Jason sank in his seat. “Of course, Alfred.”
---
“Would you shut up, Todd.” Damian scowled, displeased.
“He’s got a point.” Tim murmured, trailing behind them purely for curiosity's sake.
Jason had been grumbling the whole rest of dinner. Dick and Duke followed behind them through the winding halls.
“Like you’re one to talk.” He shot back. “Remember when Titus stole your Superboy shirt and you whined about it for a week.”
Tim’s cheeks pinked slightly. “Hey! I-”
Damian rolled his eyes. “Correction, would both of you shut up.”
He could hear Dick and Duke laugh behind him.
“What even is this proje-”
Jason cut himself off as Damian pushed open the door.
In the center of the room stood a tall wooden easel. On top of the easel was a 5 by 3 foot canvas. Bold brushstrokes and vivid colours seemed to bring the image to life.
Two hands reaching for each other.
One was slimer, more feminine than the other. Its nails were chipped, fingers calloused. A large bruise marred the porcelain skin around the wrist.
The other hand was slightly larger, but not by much. Its knuckles were bloody and dripping, calloused as well. The shade of skin was slightly darker, covered in dirt.
The fingers on both hands were splayed uncomfortably wide, displaying an urgency you could feel.
“Damn.” Tim murmured.
The rest of them had fallen silent, captured by the image.
“I didn’t know you painted.” Dick said.
Damian shrugged. “I dabble.”
---
Only two days later, canvas newly hung behind him, there was a knock at Damian's door.
Reluctantly, he opened it to find Duke standing there awkwardly.
“Uh, hi.” He waved.
“Hello?” Damian wasn’t sure why he was here.
“So, I, uh…” Duke shifted again.
“Yesss.” He drew out the word to show his impatience.
“Sorry! I, uh…” He pushed his hands forward, holding a box. Damian took it in his hands, inspecting it. It was a charcoal set, complete with different levels of intensity and softness, and a blending stump. “I saw your sketches when we were hanging up that painting. And thought you might like these.”
Damian regarded him, tilting his head. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I, uh, feel like we got off on the wrong foot.”
“I get off on the wrong foot with most people.”
Marinette scoffed behind him. He ignored it.
Duke chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I gathered that. Look, I’m still new to this whole thing. And I feel like we could work really well together. After all you’re Robin. I was just wondering, could we start over?”
There was a moment of silence where Duke had shifted uncomfortably yet again, before Damian nodded.
“I’ll see you on patrol.”
Duke grinned. “Like, together?”
“What else would I mean?”
“A-Awesome. Cool, see you then.”
Damian closed the door,
“Stop smiling at me like that.”
Marinette laughed.
---
The man coughed, blood spattering the stones in front of him.
“Now, I truly don’t see any reason why I should let you live. After all, you betrayed the League. Betrayal is inexcusable, after all.”
“P-Please.” The man wheezed. “I-” his words were cut off with a swift kick to his ribs that had him curling into himself even tighter.
“Oh, and now you’re begging. How fucking pathetic .”
“I know things. I know things.” He stammered out, hysteria rising in his voice. “I-I promise. I can be useful.”
A sharp blade sunk into his shoulder. A scream echoed in the stone dungeon.
“What things? There are many things you could know. Not many are useful.”
“The- The girl. I was the pilot, when Deathstroke took her.”
The blade twisted. Blood oozed out and onto the floor.
“Not helping your case, my friend. All you are telling me is that you are a direct accomplice to the murder of the granddaughter to the Demons Head.”
The blade twisted again.
“Not-Not mu-murd-der. We- We didn’t ki-kill her.”
The blade stopped.
“Go on.”
“He, Wilson, handcuffed her to the backseat. I-I don’t know how, but she escaped. She grabbed a parachute and jumped.”
“Did she now?”
“Yes. Wilson and I scoured the surrounding area. We found the parachute abandoned in France. We couldn’t find her, and Slade had other things to be concerned with.”
“Where, exactly?”
“I-I don’t remember. It was a lavender field, and close to the water. She’s alive. I promise you. Marinette Al Ghul is alive.”
Silence.
“Is that all you know?”
“Yes, yes, I promise you.”
“Good.”
Talia Al Ghul pulled the knife out and slit the man’s throat.
Notes:
Yes, Yes, Yes.
Talia is fucking back!
How many of you thought that when I said there was going to be a surprise, that it was Duke? He was honestly a spur of the moment decision, because I frankly don't know that much about him. So if he's OOC, sorry.
And how many of you caught the thing with the green paint and what the painting was?
I've been debating if I should add Talia in again, 'cause I was actually going to make it Deathstroke, before deciding that Talia would be way more exciting.
Marinette is next chapter.
Chapter 14: No Help
Notes:
I'm alive!
Sorry this is late, (again) I've just been dealing with migraines a lot recently.
And this chapter was kicking my ass.
It is like twice as long as what I usually post, so consider that my apology for making you wait.
Timelines get fuzzy around here, so don't be surprised.
And if you didn't read my other oneshot in this verse, 'All I know since yesterday (is everything has changed)' I recommend reading it before this chapter but I think it will still make sense if you don't.Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Marinette hated Hawkmoth.
A week after the disaster that was Stoneheart, a new akuma showed up. A man who worked in an industrial factory was let go due to an injury received on the job. The company refused to pay medical fees, and a fire breathing demon flew through Paris and turned a quarter of the city to ash.
Just less than a week after that, a girl who was disappointed she didn’t win a contest became Stormy Weather. After the blazing heat of the week before, the city was cast into a gigantic blizzard.
Ladybug was left dehydrated after the fires, and discovered the cold made her want to go into hibernation after the snowstorm.
Both attacks took several hours to manage, and schools allowed early dismissal during the battles.
The only saving grace she had.
A few days after Stormy Weather, there was an announcement.
“Citizens of Paris,” André Bourgeois, the Mayor of Paris, began on the tv screen.
The little television propped up in the corner of the bakery displayed his unusually stoic face. Customers turned to point, whispering among themselves. Marinette leaned over the counter to get a better look. The bakery had come to an abrupt standstill, all eyes attracted to the tv.
“As you may know, our fair city is under attack. You all deserve the truth, as these are difficult times we will be venturing into.
A new supervillain, calling himself Hawkmoth, has the abilities to turn just about anyone into a mind controlled minion. All our research has been able to tell us is that people experiencing a negative emotion are vulnerable to his control. Hawkmoth used corrupted butterflies, distinguishable by dark purple and black wings, to find and turn a person into an Akuma.
We would like to repeat, that those turned have no control over their own actions. Nor will they have any memory of the attack after they have been freed. They are not to be blamed.”
Marinette bit the inside of her cheek. She had noticed over the past few weeks that Ivan seemed to be excluded from the rest of the school. None of the students wanted to get close with a monster.
“Two new heroes have emerged, and pledged to defeat Hawkmoth. Ladybug, who has the abilities to reverse any damage caused by the attack, including death, and Chat Noir, who wields the ability to disintegrate any object or material. Over the past few weeks, they have proved themselves heroes.”
Heroes, Marinette thought.
Tikki pressed herself tightly against her chest from her pocket, startling her slightly. She wasn’t sure when she would get used to that. Always having a companion, never fully alone anymore.
“And while I have absolute confidence in them, we can not deny that these attacks are substantial and high risk. So, as such, myself, city officials, and the French Prime Minister have worked to contact the Justice League.
They do not believe us.”
Noise erupted around Marinette, but her brain felt fuzzy and slow. Customers were horrified, whispering to each other while a simultaneous hush fell over the room again.
“Due to Ladybug’s extraordinary and unexplainably helpful power of reversing any damage to our city, including death, for which we are endlessly grateful for, the Justice League have declared us a hoax from lack of evidence we can provide.
I understand many of you are feeling scared, but we must all face the reality that more help will not be arriving soon. Now, we don’t want you to panic…”
The rest of his words faded into the background as Marinette’s world began to spin.
No one was coming to help.
No help was coming.
No help.
Ladybug and Chat Noir had barely been surviving as it was. With no training, only magic and raw instinct kept them alive. Ladybug was willing to admit that she took charge of the situation, thought things through before charging blindly, and had better fighting abilities than Chat Noir, though he was nothing to scoff at.
There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that without Chat Noir, she’d be dead. He was loyal, not half bad at fighting, and wasn’t by any means dumb.
Neither of them were great. Not good either. They were inexperienced, young even though they didn’t look it, and didn’t have half a clue what to do.
Marinette rushed up to her room blindly as a panic attack started sinking into her chest.
“Hey, hey, Marinette, it’s going to be ok. Just breathe.” Tikki floated by her head, worrying.
Marinette sobbed. “I don’t know what to do, Tikki. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
---
School wasn’t the escape she’d been hoping for.
It seemed like everywhere Marinette went, someone was talking about the Mayor’s announcement. It made her stomach twist violently, and her knees wobble more than usual.
Those that weren't buzzing about the news, were quiet and closed off.
Marinette quickly fell into the second category.
The already bad day was only fated to get worse. It started in science class.
Marinette actually liked Nathaniel Kurtzburg.
She met him when Juleka and her were transferred into a new school, after the disaster at their old one. Nathaniel didn’t say much, though he never really did.
Marinette was honestly grateful to him.
He sat in the back of the class. When Juleka started closing herself off, and Marinette was unable to make a dent in her impenetrable walls, Juleka hid in the back of the class with the quiet boy.
Marinette’s interactions with Nathaniel were few and short. Her impression of him was that he was quiet, timid, and kind. But she did notice when he slid a sheet of blank paper across the table for Juleka to draw on when she got anxious. Or how he slipped her a pencil when she forgot hers.
So even though they had barely interacted, Marinette held a fairly high respect for him.
And Nathaniel really didn’t cause any trouble. Which was why everyone was surprised when Ms Mendeleiev stood in front of his desk wearing a very sour expression.
“Mr Kurtzburg!” The science teacher scolded. Poor Nathaniel, who had been doodling in his sketchbook, nearly fell out of his seat. “I have told you before, you must pay attention in class.”
The boy tried valiantly to stutter out an excuse. “I-I-I know, Ms-”
Ms Mendeleiev was not in a good mood today. “Go to the principal's office, we’ll talk about this later.”
Nathaniel nodded, looking down. He quickly packed his things in his bag and made to scurry out of the classroom. As he passed Marinette’s desk, Chloé on the other side of the isle stuck her foot out, causing Nathaniel to trip and his belongings to spread over the floor.
Chloé laughed. “Ohhh,” her eyes caught on his sketchbook laying open on the floor. “what’s this?”
“No! Do-”
Chloé snatched it from the floor before Nathaniel could get a chance. She flipped through the pages briefly, before laughing again. “Is that Dupain-Cheng!” She held out the book for the class to see.
Marinette caught a glance at a penciled sketch of herself and Nathainel, surrounded by a big loopy heart before the boy managed to snatch it out of her hands again.
Her brain just had enough time to short circuit and think, wait, what? Before Ms Mendeleiev intervened.
“Ms Bourgeois! Sit down before I send you to the principal’s office as well. Mr Kurtzburg, be on your way.”
The class settled down again as Nathaniel fled.
“You’ll all be working in groups for this project. They are as followed: Alix, Max, and Ivan. Juleka, Rose, and Kim. Chloé, Sabrina, and Marinette-”
“What!”
“Excuse me!”
“Settle down!” The teacher snapped.
“Miss,” Chloé started pompous. “you can’t possibly expect me to work with Dupain-Cheng.”
“Yes, I do. This is a group project, therefore, you will work in the groups I assign.”
“I-”
“No, Ms Dupain-Cheng, you may not switch groups. Now, where were we? Nino, Adrien, and Alya…”
The rest faded into the background again as Alya patted Marinette on the shoulder sympathetically. “It won’t be so bad.”
“Oh yeah? You’ve got the perfect group.”
Alya pursed her lips. “Okay, it’s going to suck for you. Buuuuut… I’ll chat you up with Adrien during the project.”
“Really?” Marinette beamed, forgetting her previous mood. “You’re the best.”
“I know, girl.”
---
Marinette met up with Sabrina in the library after school.
“Where’s Chloé?”
“Oh.” Sabrina looked away, pushing her glasses up her nose shyly. “She’s busy. You and I will do all the research and writing, and she can present.”
Marinette wrinkled her nose. “I’m sorry, what?”
“She’s got stuff to do, so she can’t-”
“What stuff?”
Sabrina blinked like no one has ever asked her that question before. “Y-You know… Stuff.. She’s the Mayor’s daughter after all.”
Marinette raised an eyebrow. “Does she always say that?”
“Wha- No, no, of course not. She’ll just present the project, and we’ll all have done equal work.”
“That’s not equal. At all. I’m not doing that. She needs a better excuse.”
“She’s… She’s complicated.”
“What’s complicated about doing your fair share.”
“Well, Dupain-Cheng.” Chloé sauntered into the library like she owned the place. (Which she metaphorically did, since her father was the Mayor of Paris.)
“Speak of the Devil.” Marinette muttered, rolling her eyes.
Chloé leaned her hip on the table. “Unless you want Sabrina and I to do all the work, you’ve got to start the writing.”
“How the fuck is that remotely fair?” Marinette snarled. Okay, she wasn’t usually this pissy, but she had a lot going on right now. “You barely lift a finger, ang get to claim credit for work you didn’t even look at. Sabrina, you can’t go along with this either.”
“Don’t be silly, Dupain-Cheng. Sabrina would be happy to do the work. Unlike you, she understands how taxing it is to be the Mayor’s daughter. Especially in times like these.”
Marinette widened her eyes. “You can’t possibly be using that as an excuse. You have nothing to do with it! ”
“I-It’s fine.” Sabrina mumbled. “Chloé is my… my friend. This is what friends do for each other.”
“Thank you, Sabrina. See, isn’t she nice.”
The red headed girl blushed, looking down.
Marinette was mentally gearing up to get into a fight, wrist burning hot, when there was a dull flash of light. Then, air exploded in her face as a giant hair dryer materialized in the air, blowing on Chloé and sending blonde strands everywhere.
“Ahhhh! My hair!” Chloé screamed, running farther into the room.
The hair dryer flew after her, sending several bookcases tumbling as it knocked into them.
“Chloé!” Sabrina shouted, darting forward.
Marinette caught her shoulder. “Wait! Chloé will be fine!”
“I have to help her!”
Marinette grunted as Sabrina struggled to free herself from Marinette’s iron grip. “You’ll only put yourself in danger! Look, Chat Noir is here.” Indeed, her leather clad partner dropped from the ceiling and started pulling bookshelves off of the few students that were unfortunate enough to be crushed by them. “You’ll only get in the way. It’ll be best for Chloé if you wait outside.”
Sabrina looked hesitant, but packed all her things (and Chloé’s) away in a flash, quickly exiting the room with a glance at the scene behind her.
---
All in all, it could have gone worse.
Much, much worse, considering the damage caused by the past akumas.
Ladybug ended up doing something pretty stupid. Riding a flying hair dryer like it was a raging bull was definitely not her smartest decision. But it ended better than usual.
The akuma, Evillustrator, had a pen and tablet that could create things out of nothing, and erase things from existence. He escaped, against Ladybug and Chat Noir’s greatest efforts.
Casualties were low. One student had taken a bookcase to the head and passed as painlessly as possible, and a few others had broken bones.
It wasn’t good, but nothing compared to the countless deaths of the previous attacks.
It was quickly deduced that Chloé was the target of the akuma, so after reassuring an extremely distressed Sabrina that Chloé was fine, Chat and Ladybug ended up in the Grande Paris hotel penthouse on guard duty.
“This is great! I’m your biggest fan, Ladybug! We’ll be such good friends!” Chloé’s enthusiasm was frankly unsettling.
“Hear that, M’lady. She’s your biggest fan.” Chat Noir teased.
The worrying part was, Ladybug didn’t really doubt it. The action figures, posters, and red and black spotted carpet made Chloé’s admiration glaringly obvious. Or maybe it was more obsession.
“We should get a photo.”
No sooner had Chloé said it, she was pulling Ladybug against her for a selfie.
“Ugh.” Ladybug grunted, pulling herself away as the camera flashed.
Chloé looked down at her phone disappointedly. “Awww, it didn’t turn out so well. Let’s take it again.”
Chloé lunged towards her like a predator, making Ladybug quickly stand up from her stop on the red couch.
“Oh, don’t be silly Ladybug.”
The door burst open.
In a second, Ladybug and Chat Noir were standing shoulder to shoulder in front of Chloé, ready to defend her. It wasn't the akuma though. Mayor Bourgeois, several city officials and a team of security guards filed in.
“My darling!” Mayor Bourgeois exclaimed, pushing past the heroes to sweep her up in his arms.
“Urgh, get off. You’re embarrassing me, Daddy.”
He held his arms out, examining his daughter with a critical eye. “Are you ok? I just saw the news. I’m so sorry, my darling. I can't believe this is happening to you.”
“It’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.”
“Ahem.” One of the security guards cleared their throat. The Mayor spared him a glance, and his guard gestured to the super duo with his head.
His eyes went wide. “Where are my manners? It’s great to finally meet you, Ladybug and Chat Noir. I can’t thank you enough for saving my daughter’s life.”
“Yeah!” Chloé appeared next to Ladybug in a flash, grabbing her arm and pulling her close. “We’re like, besties now.”
Ladybug flinched back, trying to pull her arm away from her iron grip and digging manicured nails. “Please let go of me, Miss Bourgeois.”
“Oh, you’re so funny. Let’s take another selfie! I’ll post it to my Instagram.”
She flung out her arm for a photo.
“No pictu-”
The camera flashed while Ladybug was making a disgusted face.
“Don’t post that.”
“But it’s of us. I look fabulous in it.”
“Miss Bourgeois-”
“Let’s take another.”
Chloé pulled her close again, clearly about to take another photo when a stern looking city official intervened.
He plucked her phone right out of her hand. “Miss Bourgeois, I believe it would be best if you didn’t.”
“Wha-”
“Please unhand me.” Ladybug was well past annoyed by now. The only thing holding her composure together was the fact that so many city officials were around, and she’d really like them to be on good terms.
Luckily for her, they felt the same way.
The manicured nails dug in farther when she tried to wriggle away again, hard enough that they would have drawn blood if not for the magical suit. “No, I want another photo! Daddy! Tell Ladybug she has to take another photo with me!” Chloé stamped her foot like a child.
“My darling, perhaps it would be a good idea-”
“No!”
Chat Noir got involved. “Chloé, you’re going to need to let go of my partner now.”
“But-”
Ladybug yanked her arm, hard. Chloé stumbled into a security guard who caught her effortlessly.
“Hey!”
Ladybug massaged her newly freed arm. “Mayor Bourgeois, I must thank you for the kind words you said about us at the press conference. I look forward to working with you as well. But, you must understand, I value privacy and discretion. And I hope you also understand that crossing those lines would result in me no longer working with you. Including releasing photos of myself or Chat Noir without permission.”
The Mayor spluttered. Clearly, he imagined meeting with his city's newest tourist attraction going better.
“We understand completely.” The same official interrupted. “We look forward to where this may take us.”
“Thank you. Now, I will be going.” Ladybug turned on her heel and marched out to the glass balcony.
“Ladybug!”
She stopped and turned to Chat.
“We need to guard Chloé.”
She sighed. “Sorry, could you do it. I just can’t be around her.”
“She’s not that bad.” Ladybug raised an eyebrow. “She’s…. Complicated.”
“Complicated… Okay, but I’m leaving. I’ll go find out who the akuma was before, and figure out how Chloé became a target.”
“O-Okay.”
Ladybug launched her yoyo to the next building over, swinging away.
---
Of course, it was Nathaniel.
She really should have seen it coming.
Evilistrator was also really smooth. As he flirted with her, after arriving into her room via the window, Marinette couldn’t help but do a double take. The quiet kid in the back of the class could be this.
And he apparently had a massive crush on her.
Which was heavily flattering as he easily slid in complements and pickup lines into their conversation that had Marinette fighting a blush rising up her neck.
After agreeing to a date, in exchange for him no longer attacking Chloé, a plan started hatching in her mind.
She transformed, and Ladybug pressed the only contact in her magical yoyo phone.
“M’Lady!” His face lit up like a beacon.
“Hey, Chat Noir.”
“LB, you know I love you, but to completely ditch me…” He gave an over dramatic sigh, placing a hand over his heart. “How will I ever forgive you?”
“Sorry, Kitty. That wasn’t cool. But good news, Chloé isn’t being targeted anymore. And I’ve got a mission for you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “A mission?”
“Yup.” She tapped on her screen, a photo of her civilian self now appearing. “She’s a cutie, isn’t she? You’ll be working with her. Her name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and she lived at Tom and Sabine’s Patisserie , you know it?”
“Yeah.” His voice sounded slightly off. His feline face appeared on screen again, and he looked fine.
She brushed it off. “Great. The akuma's name is Nathanial Kurtzburg, he has a crush on Miss Dupain-Cheng. He got akumatized after Chloé made fun of his little crush, which is why he targeted her. He visited Marinette not that long ago, and she got him to agree to stopping his attacks against Miss Bourgeois in exchange for a date. Which is where you come in.”
Chat Noir grinned, canines slightly too sharp. “Crashing her date, huh? I’ll just have to sweep that little lady off her feet, as an apology, won't I.”
Ladybug scoffed good-naturedly. “Good luck, Kitty. She’s a tough nut.”
“And where will you be, M’lady?”
She grinned. “I’ve got my own mission, Kitty But don’t worry, I won’t be far.”
---
Sabrina left a very angry voicemail.
Several of them.
Then she showed up at her door.
“How could you!”
Marinette blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You-You-You left Chloé!”
Sabrina was a complete mess. Her clothes were more rumpled than usual, and her hair went in every direction but in her clean headband. Even her glasses were crooked on her nose.
Marinette spoke slowly. “There was an akuma. I chose to not put myself in unnecessary danger, and I came home. As did many other people.”
“But she could have needed you! We’re project partners, for god's sake !”
She’s never seen Sabrina like this. “Chloé hates me. If anything, she’s probably glad I left. And she had Ladybug and Chat Noir to save her.”
“Well- But- Just- Urghhh!”
Sabrina turned around and stomped away angrily.
Marinette had half a second to process that before Chat Noir dropped down in front of her. She nearly shrieked.
“Hey, Prrrrincess.” He leaned on the doorway, flashing that grin again. “‘Was afraid I’d need to save you from her. That girl’s got some claws .”
“Yeah, don’t know what’s gotten into her.”
“Anyways, you and I are a team, huh?”
You’re a civilian, Marinette. “Y-Yeah. Ladybug told me everything. I can't believe I’m actually meeting you.”
“Yeah…” His eyes flashed. Marinette wondered if he remembered that time when he saved her during the Stoneheart attack.
“Ladybug is so awesome. So are you. My best friend won’t believe I’m actually talking to you.”
Tone it down a little, maybe.
“Lucky us, right. Don’t worry about the mission, just keep the akuma distracted and I’ll handle the rest.”
“Yeah, I can do that.”
“Purrrrfect.” Chat Noir pushed himself off the door, sauntering away. “See you later, Princess.”
---
It was surreal.
Encountering an akuma while as civilian was strange and scary. Without the confidence of the suit, Marinette could feel her palms sweating against her jeans and her strong and sharp words she usually had in akuma battles had completely left her.
But working with Chat Noir as a civilian was an out of body experience all together.
While Marinette was conversing with Evilistrator, and he was drawing musical notes on his tablet that floated off the screen and into the air with a soft note, she could see the unmistakable figure of Chat Noir in the shadows. His eyes were nearly luminescent, and instead of them being unnerving or frightening, they helped calm her nerves like a warm blanket.
Marinette knew that, even without the suit, her partner wouldn’t let anything happen to her. She was safe.
Which was an especially weird thing to think about while next to an enemy.
If the way that Chat Noir threw himself in front of her when she stole Evilistrator’s pen didn’t prove that he had her back, even if he didn’t know it, she wasn’t sure what would.
But then Evilistrator ran off to go and attack Chloé, leaving Chat Noir and her trapped under some sort of box structure. Once Marinette figured out how to get the thing off of them, her partner couldn’t spare a second to say goodbye to follow the akuma.
And she understood.
She did.
But it hurt just a little.
She didn’t have time to feel sorry for herself though. She had to sprint into an abandoned alley and swing across Paris to go rescue Chloé.
It was a mess.
Chloé wouldn’t stop screaming, the security personnel were scattered, scrambling and losing men from left to right. Chat Noir ended up precariously dangling over a massive hole in the floor, which made Ladybug’s stomach do an odd swoop.
There was blood. All over the place. From the walls to the carpet to her Ladybug suit, there was blood.
And maybe that was why her suit was red .
But they survived. Ladybug cast the Cure and all the damage was swept away in a wave of magic.
The Mayor tried to thank them formally, but the two had to duck out of the building quickly before their transformation dropped.
“So where were you?” Chat called out, as they raced over rooftops. They had three minutes still, before they had to go their separate ways.
Ladybug winked. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Kitty?”
He laughed. “Dark and mysterious, Bugaboo. Are you sure you’re not trying to seduce me?”
She shook her head, throwing her yoyo in a different path than Chat’s.
“Nah, I’m just naturally lovable.”
“Don’t I know it.”
Her laugh could be heard in his ears as she swung away into the night.
---
The night breeze was just edging from refreshing to chilly by the time he arrived.
“Heya, Prrrincess.” Chat Noir dropped down on her balcony next to her.
Marinette heard him coming, only moments before he landed, unlike last time. “Hey, Chat Noir. What are you doing here?”
“Oh, you know,” he shrugged. “Just visiting a lovely lady.”
“Really? I thought that was Ladybug.”
He gasped, clutching at his chest with his clawed hand. “M’lady will always have my heart.”
She laughed. “How sweet. When’s the wedding?”
Chat Noir smirked, and threw her a wink. “I’m thinking around the time after we defeat Hawkmoth. Wouldn’t want her leaving me at the altar to go fight off akumas.”
“I’d expect you to come in as her Kitty in shining armor.”
He smiled.
The conversation lulled into peaceful silence. Marinette leaned forward on her balcony railing, Chat mirroring her movement next to her. In the dark night, his suit blended in perfectly, unlike her Ladybug suit.
Chat said that it wasn’t a problem, when she brought it up after the fire akuma. Apparently, she could still scare the shit out of him when she appeared out of nowhere.
So she took it as a win.
“Is Nathaniel…” She trailed off, unsure what she was even asking.
He filled in the silence. “He’s safe and sound at home. And Chloé is fine.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah… Chloé…”
“She’s…” Her partner sighed, his ears drooping. “She’s not all bad.”
“That’s hard to believe.”
“Hey,” He nudged her with his shoulder. “She may be rough around the edges, but she can be a good person. When it really, really counts, you can rely on her.”
“You sound like you speak from experience.”
“Our paths may have crossed once or twice in the past.”
Marinette looked at him. His sandy blonde curls were moving in the gentle breeze, making them appear more windswept than plain messy.
“If you know her so well, why does she hate me.”
“She doesn’t hate you.”
“Bullshit!”
Chat Noir’s eyes went wide, clearly not expecting her language.
“I see how she treats others. Not kindly, but better than me. So why, why me? Because I’ve been trying to figure it out since I met her, and I just can’t.”
“Chloé’s…” he chose his next words carefully. “complicated.”
Marinette just rolled her eyes. “Right. Sabrina said the same thing. I don’t get why she’s still friends with her.”
Chat tilted his head to the side. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“What?”
“Why Sabrina still hangs around Chloé. I think they met about 2-ish years ago. Right when there was that big thing about Miss Forget-Me-Not.”
Marinette sighed, but it sounded more like a grunt. “God, I hate those stories. All the reporters were making the fact that some poor girl got hit by a car and developed amnesia such a spectacle. Did they even care about privacy?”
“It happened in a crowd of paparazzi. It was just a spectacle waiting to happen.”
“And Agreste and Bourgeois tried monopolizing it. Just kept saying that the funds made in their new line would cover the cost of making them and the medical expenses Miss Forget-Me-Not had. But everyone knew they were taking the money for themselves. And who even chose a stupid name like Miss Forget-Me-Not ? That, frankly, sounds extremely offensive.”
“Audrey Bourgeois moved to America when those stories started circulating.” He was quiet for a moment. “Chloé and Sabrina met when their parents, since Sabrina’s dad is a cop, were talking about the whole case. They’ve been inseparable since.”
“I still don’t see why Sabrina still hangs around Chloé.”
Chat Noir looked over at her, wearing a sad smile she hadn’t seen on him before. “People like her and me, we recognize our own.”
Marinette raised her eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that it’s getting late and you should be off to bed. Goodnight, Princess. It was great working with you.”
She sighed, but knew that it was well past midnight by now. “It was great working with you too. Goodnight, Chat Noir.”
---
The next day, Nathaniel sat at the back of the class, refusing to look up from his paper. The class had unanimously started avoiding him, with the exception of Juleka, who went out of her way to sit next to him.
Usually, Rose could coax her friend to sit next to her in the semi front of the room a few times a day, but Juleka was stubbornly stuck to Nathaniel’s side.
Marinette thought it was quite sweet.
Clearly, Juleka cared about Nathaniel, and that was enough for Marinette to still like him.
Besides, he really didn’t do anything wrong.
It was Hawkmoth’s fault before anyone else's.
Because Hawkmoth would manipulate children into fighting for their lives. Would turn innocent civilians into mindless pawns. Would regularly pray on emotions and weakness.
Would cover her Ladybug suit in even more red.
Marinette hated the bastard.
And with every passing day, her promise to one day defeat him seemed to grow stronger.
Marinette also tried to keep what Chat Noir said in mind. About how Chloé wasn’t actually that of a bad person.
It took ten minutes for it all to crumble down.
“Urgh, who let him back in here?” Chloé pointed to Nathainel in disgust.
Miss Bustier had just left the room for an impromptu teachers meeting. Which were quickly becoming more and more frequent with every attack.
“Shut up, Chloé.” Marinette grumbled.
“He’s a supervillain! He attacked me! ”
“Yeah!” Sabrina seconded, crossing her arms at Nathaniel.
To his credit, he didn’t look up. He kept sketching with a quickly dulling pencil, but Marinette noticed his hand start to tremble a bit.
“How can we feel safe with him here!” Chloé screeched.
Marinette stood up, slamming her hands on her desk. All eyes were on her, but she had reached the end of her fraying rope.
“FOR FUCKS SAKE! DON’T YOU GET IT! NOWHERE IS SAFE! Our city is under attack! People are dying because of it! NO ONE HAS CONTROL OVER IT! Not the Police! Not the Mayor! Not the goddamned Prime Minister! And don’t you dare go crying to daddy dearest about sharing a class in a previous akuma because before you know it, we’ll all have been akumatized! I’m honestly surprised it hasn't happened to you with all the negative energy you’re giving off! So don’t you dare complain about little things like that to the Mayor, because he’s got bigger things to worry about! LIKE THE FACT THAT THE JUSTICE LEAGUE IS NOT COMING! WE’RE GETTING NO HELP! Were on our own, with no backup, leads on Hawkmoth’s identity, or idea of what’s going to happen tomorrow! SO COMPLAIN! COMPLAIN ABOUT NOT FEELING SAFE! YOU’RE THE DAUGHTER OF THE MAYOR, YOU HAVE A SECURITY DETAIL! YOU’RE FAR BETTER OFF THAN THE REST OF US. BECAUSE NO WHERE IS FUCKING SAFE ANYMORE!”
Marinette sat down, panting.
Everyone stared at her, eyes incredibly wide. Several looked on the verge of tears.
Chloé was shaking. From anger, fear, or something else, Marinette wasn’t sure.
She shoved her hand into her pocket, wrist burning warm and hot.
Alya patted her shoulder hesitantly. “You good, girl?”
Marinette shook her head. “No one is good, Alya. Because of fucking Hawkmoth. ”
---
“I would like to thank Ladybug and Chat Noir, for saving my daughter’s life.” Mayor Bourgeois’s voice echoed through the tiny tv once again. “Without them, my daughter would not have survived the several attempts made on her life. Ladybug and Chat Noir’s unwavering loyalty to Paris has not gone unnoticed, and we hope to work closely with them in the future. I, personally, can not express how thankful we are to have them.”
Ah, Marinette thought, he’s scared we’ll say we don’t like the Mayor and he’ll lose voters.
“They are truly an exceptional pair of adults who…”
Adults.
Adults.
Adults.
Marinette forgot that.
Ladybug was an adult, and wouldn’t need or receive help from anyone.
Including the Justice League.
No help.
No help.
No help.
Notes:
Marinette is not having a good time.
What do you guys think of Sabrina?
Did you guy's catch the detail about how the bracelet is glowing?
This chapter was mostly for introducing new characters, the political side, and showing that the JL is not coming to Paris.
What do you guys think or Chloe too? She's an interesting character to write, so I hope I'm doing her justice.
I love Chat Noir! I think he's great, and it doesn't get said enough.
Do you guys want a Marinette or Damian chapter next, because I'm have a hard time deciding.
We've still go a bit to go before Paris and Gotham meet, but I promise it will be worth it.
Next chapter is coming as soon as I can, I promise.Please comment!
Chapter 15: Ride or Die
Notes:
I'm sorry this is late yet again.
Really don't hold out hope for me to post chapters in a timely manor. I've got some weird stuff going on, but I'm trying my hardest to post quickly.
This chapter belongs to Marinette. For those of you who wanted a Damian chapter, he's next, I promise.WARNING:
This is a fairly heavy chapter. You know from the warnings above that there are sexual themes, and underaged parts. It's not essential you read this chapter, so feel free to skip if it makes you uncomfortable. I tried not to make it too graphic or heavy, and I think I mostly succeeded, but feel free to give me feedback in the comments.Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Marinette felt like she could never quite relax anymore.
Her body and mind were fighting against each other in a constant confusing battle. While all the hairs of her arms stood on end throughout the day, her muscles were fluid and soft. Yet at the drop of a dime, every muscle in her would tense into a stance she was not familiar with.
She knew the Ladybug magic was messing with her head.
Figuring out everything it did was a different matter entirely.
Marinette quickly realized she started wearing more layers than normal. The one day she forgot her sweater at home, she fell asleep in class. She woke up to the concerned face of Alya, who was kind enough to lay her own jacket over her sleeping form.
Turns out ladybugs hibernate in the winter.
After several days of intense stomach aches and migraines, Marinette also had the startling realization she had developed a new allergy. Vinegar. According to her biology teacher, it kills ladybugs on contact.
Her favorite chips and salads were discarded for popcorn and freshly cut fruits and vegetables. She was admittedly sad to see them go.
The strangest, she decided, was the pregnancy thing.
No, she wasn’t pregnant. Nor was she planning to become pregnant for a long, long, time.
She’d say it started early on in her super career.
One of their regulars, a darling woman named Claudette Moulin, came in for a dozen macarons with her pretty orange hair braided on pigtails.
Marinette’s eyes had zeroed in on her.
Her ever so slightly more prominent eye bags seemed glaringly obvious under her vision. She could practically sense her slight nausea towards foods she normally loved. And her skin had an unusual glow to it.
“Oh, how are you and Marceau, my dear?” Sabine had asked.
Claudette smiled, her new wedding ring gleaming in the light. “Very good, Sabine. My friends say we are still in the honeymoon phase, and I’m not sure I want it to end. I’ve never been so happy.”
“That’s so sweet. You both always did make such a cute couple. Any children in your future?”
The woman laughed pleasantly. “I don’t think so. One day, though.”
When Claudette left, Marinette muttered to Sabine. “We’ll hear she’s expecting by the end of the month. I bet it’s a girl.”
She wasn’t sure why she was certain she was correct.
Her husband ran into the bakery four weeks later, raving about pregnancy cravings. Tom greeted him joyously, giving him a box of chocolate and raspberry macarons on the house.
Marinette wasn’t surprised in the slightest.
Then a heavily pregnant Liliana Tola walked into the store, three kids rambunctiously running around her.
“When are you due?” Marinette had asked, even though her mind told her there would be new arrivals by the end of the week.
“The 7th. I hope whoever this is isn’t nearly as hyper as my others.”
Her lips pursed in sympathy as her next instincts screamed. “I bet you’re having twins. Two boys.”
“Oh, don’t joke about things like that. I’ve got my plate full already.”
She was yet again proven right when Liliana’s mother-in-law arrived 9 days later, gushing about her new grandbabies.
“Absolutely adorable, the two of them. Identical twin boys. No one was more shocked than my son. Liliana, the poor dear, just said she should have known.”
What bothered her though was when her adoptive mother’s cousin came to visit, 4 months pregnant and positively glowing with joy.
Sabine and Tom promised to spoil their newest relative once they arrived, yet Marinette felt nothing but a sinking feeling and a sickness clawing beneath her skin.
Shortly after the cousin arrived back in China, she had a tragic miscarriage.
Marinette vomited bile the night she found out.
Google provided her with the answers that ladybugs are considered an omen of pregnancy.
She would have to ask Chat sometime if he was experiencing strange symptoms of the Miraculous.
---
Marinette was an idiot.
She knew this.
Yet, how exactly she found herself in the situation of revealing her embarrassing crush on Adrien to him in an equally embarrassing voicemail, she was wondering herself.
The easy way she slipped his phone out of his pocket when bumping into him in the hallway was scarily unnerving. Deleting the voicemail and sipping the phone back into his pocket in a similar manner was even more so.
It made her feel bad.
Like she violated his privacy by hacking into his phone. She didn’t look at anything other than her voicemail. But that's besides the point.
She didn't like the feeling.
---
It was a publicity stunt.
Since the Evilistrator incident a month ago, Ladybug and Chat Noir had made no contact with the Mayor's office.
The news of a statue made in their honor came as a shock to her.
Wasn’t it a bit early to create a monument for them.
Sure it had been a few months now, but wasn’t it still kind of early.
Hawkmoth was still on the loose, after all.
The rest of the city wasn’t nearly as surprised. Some were excited, while others were skeptical.
Some, like Marinette herself, knew it was a political move.
The heroes making it clear they were not making contact with the city officials was not great for their image, as the city’s heart now belonged to the duo. And if the few videos and photos leaked from the Evilistrator incident was any indication, their limited experience with them was not pleasant.
It was also the Mayor's way of making them a tourist attraction.
Which would inevitably fail, if the rumors were true.
Talk about how if one left Paris, or told someone outside, they simply didn’t think to ever bring it up. So news of Hawkmoth did not spread.
Max said his Mom, a train conductor, knew perfectly well there was an Akuma on the loose while on the way back into Paris from London. Yet, her mind drew a blank from the thought of alerting passengers before they made it within city lines.
So it wouldn’t work as a tourist attraction.
Marinette thought Chat Noir was on the same wavelength as her in regards to the statue.
As in, not turning up to the unveiling.
Marinette didn’t want to give the city government the impression that she was grateful for the monument. Because she wasn’t.
It made her feel uncomfortable. Thinking about her face in stone standing in the park close to her home, for everyone to see. She felt it would make her arrogant.
If anything, she needed to stay humble at times like these.
Overconfidence in the field could easily get her killed.
Which would mean there was no one to cleanse the akuma or bring back the dead.
And every time she thought of it, she’d stuff that impending panic to the little box in the back of her mind.
Stay happy, Marinette. You can not be akumatized. That’s as good as dead for you.
She bit her cheek till she tasted blood and smiled every time.
Regardless, she thought Chat would not show up to the unveiling. She was proven wrong as she watched the spectacle from her balcony, reporters clamoring over each other in anticipation.
Chat Noir arrived with flair. He jumped off a roof, backflipped, and bowed to the crowd. The cheeky quip “A cat always lands on their feet” was easy enough to decipher from the distance.
Marinette rolled her eyes and sighed at his showmanship.
Though, she would admit, the media was his thing. He drank it up like an addictive drug. He charmed them seamlessly, could direct their conversation anyway he wanted, and could cut them off in the most polite way possible.
She couldn’t hear them from her balcony, but she watched as they tried to delay the unveiling to give Ladybug time to make it.
Once the Mayor grew impatient, he pulled down the fabric sheet covering the sculpture.
It was impressive.
It was made of some sort of coppery steel. Chat Noir in a three point landing, his grin uncanny. Ladybug jumped off of his back, slinging her yoyo off a wire thin strand. The statue captured their movements, as though the heroes would start jumping to the next akuma.
It was marvelous.
And incredibly unsettling.
No matter how long Marinette stared at a photo of Ladybug, she always felt weird about appearing as an adult.
An adult who, to her great mortification, and disgust, was being sexualized left and right.
It made her skin crawl.
Just yesterday, she passed two students a few years older than her in the middle of a frankly terrifying conversation.
“I’m just telling you dude,” the taller had said. “If given the chance, I would go balls deep in Ladybug.”
“Not saying I doubt it. I’d love to myself. She’s so fucking hot. Bet she’d like it rough. I’d rip that suit off her so fast.”
“Same man. She’s got to be into some kinky shit.”
Marinette didn’t eat lunch after that, and barely kept her stomach down as it was.
Marinette knew that one of the first things she was taught about the internet was not to read comments about herself.
But who the fuck ever listened to that.
She read the comments on videos of her performing heroic stunts.
Saving people from being crushed by cars. Punching akumas in the face. Dashing across rooftops and falling through the air fearlessly.
Most were nice. Things like:
‘ Oh my god, she’s so incredible!’
‘I feel so much safer with her around.’
‘She’s my hero. SLAY!!!!!!’
‘Female empowerment at it’s finest!!!’
‘Ladybug is a motherfucking QUEEN!!!’
But many, way to many, were not as nice.
‘That skin tight suit makes her such a slut.’
‘Her face is ok, but have you seen her boobs! I’d love to fuck them.’
‘I wanna wreck her so bad.’
‘Those thighssssss. I wanna split her in half.’
‘Bet she could take a lot down that throat. I wouldn’t stop till she is fucking crying and drooling, begging me like a whore.’
Usually, after, she’d vomit till burning bile was all that was left, and push those thoughts to the same box in her mind to never be opened.
Marinette pushed herself off her balcony and went inside, trying to forget where her dangerous thoughts were leading her.
---
“Hey girl!” Alya’s cheery face filled her screen.
“Heya Alya.”
“I’m so sorry, but I can’t come over.”
Marinette furrowed her eyebrows. “Oh, that’s ok. Did something happen?”
Her friend scoffed in disbelief. “Something happen? Something happen? Chat Noir just robbed the Louvre!”
Her eyes went wide. “What! No, no, that can’t be right.”
“I know, it’s crazy. But there’s a video, and it’s definitely Chat Noir.”
Marinette’s mouse darted over her screen, moving the image of Alya to the corner. Simply typing ‘Chat Noir Louvre’ brought up a dozen different videos, each steadily spreading across the internet at an alarming rate.
She clicked the first one, and a shaky camera quality taken by a civilian provided a clear view. The shaggy haired blonde sauntered though the museum with far too much confidence. He stepped over the velvet guardrail separating the Mona Lisa from public reach and snatched it off the wall with a wild grin, canines poking out. Alarms started blaring, and the video ended with several security guards and innocent civilians on the ground for trying to get in the way of his escape.
“I’ve gotta go! Gonna cover this story. See you later, girl!” Alya enthusiastically waved.
Marinette’s mind was already somewhere else. “Bye.” she muttered.
“Oh Marinette, what’s going on?” Tikki flew over, worriedly hovering.
Worrying, she had noticed, was Tikki’s default mode.
“I’m not sure. But I’m going to go figure this out. Spots on!”
---
Ladybug swung across Paris at a quicker than usual pace.
The Louvre was surrounded with helicopters, police, and reporters. Ladybug’s eye caught Alya in the crowd. Her signature orange colour mader her easy to pick out, but always gave Ladybug a headache for how quick it took an akuma to pick her out as well.
The amount of times she’s seen her friend die was something she never thought she would experience.
Ladybug landed gracefully next to a police car, just past the barricaded line of media. The media started shouting, cameras flashing with shuttering clicks, and pushing against the line keeping them from the action.
“Ladybug, how do you feel about being betrayed by Chat Noir?”
“Do you know what led to Chat Noir turning to thievery and violence?”
“How does this affect Chat Noir and your romantic relationship?”
Her step didn’t falter from the moment her feet touched the ground. She glided through the throngs of officers and swat teams, who parted like the red sea to make way for her.
“Officer Jacquet.” She slowed to a stop next to the woman, nodding her head with respect.
“Ladybug.” She nodded back, swiftly moving onto the hottest topic. “I assume you are here to help us retrieve the Mona Lisa once again.”
The heroine had quickly decided that Jacquet was her favorite officer. They had met during the fire-demon akuma attack, where the young woman was trying to help evacuate an old apartment building in the line of fire.
Her respect came immediately after she saw Jacquet throw herself in front of a 5-year-old boy, causing her own body to turn into ash when hit by an incoming fireball.
After the attack, she had seen her talking to the same boy, helping him find his parents after they had been long lost in the chaos of the evacuation.
“Yes, I am.” Ladybug let the officer dance around the topic of her partner. She wasn’t sure how she would answer a question anyways. “Has anyone seen him.”
Jacquet didn’t need to ask who. “Sergeant Raincomprix is inside with him now. He claims he has, as he put it, a ‘copycat’.”
Ladybug quirked an eyebrow, face plastered in a neutral expression. “And what do you believe?”
Jacquet kept her tone professional, but wouldn’t meet the heroine's eyes. “I believe,” she carefully said, “that it’s quite suspicious, that today of all days, with the unveiling of the statue, that Chat Noir decided to steal one of the most well known paintings in the world in broad daylight.”
Ladybug simply nodded again.
---
The museum alarms were blaring when she entered.
Sergeant Raincomprix was angrily cursing Chat Noir, who was nowhere to be found.
The iron security bars that the Sergeant had used to trap her partner after luring him inside were completely destroyed. No doubt the rust coloured dust left behind was the product of a Cataclysm.
Which meant he had five minutes left before transforming back.
And it had all transpired two minutes ago.
And there were cameras pointing at every existing angle of the Louvre from the outside.
He was trapped.
Ladybug left the scene quickly, running through corridor after corridor, turning corner after corner, in a desperate search of her partner.
She entered the ancient Egypt exhibit, nearly running headlong into her partner.
He turned, green eyes wide and fearful. “Ladybug!”
“Shhhhhh!” She spun her head around, checking no one was about to enter the section.
“I-I promise I didn’t do it, M’lady! I have no idea what’s going on! One second, everyone was asking me to sign autographs at the unveiling, the next, I’ve got sniper rifles pointed at me!”
“Shut up!” She hissed.
He was being far too loud.
“I-I-”
Ladybug slapped her hand over his mouth, shutting him up.
There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that her Kitty wasn’t innocent. His eyes glinted with pure fear, something she had only seen during particularly brutal points in an akuma battle.
Or during their first meeting, when the mushroom cloud rose in the distance and she extended her hand out to him.
Because he was a child too. Though they never admitted their ages, they both knew.
He was a child, scared, and cornered.
“How much time do you have left?”
He showed his shaking hand. The last dot on his ring was flashing dangerously.
Ladybug looked around. She grasped him by the back of his collar, punching him further into the exhibit.
“What are you doing?”
She stopped in front of a golden sarcophagus she knew was empty from her extensive history report she wrote earlier in the year. She pushed the lid off, throwing Chat Noir inside.
“Are you crazy!”
She winced slightly. “Sorry Kitty. Feed your kwami and transform back. I’ll cause a distraction outside and you can sneak away.”
She shut the sarcophagus, feeling slightly bad about the unfortunate hiding place.
---
Thanks to the unveiling of the statue, Ladybug and Chat Noir merch had been at an all time high.
A store only a few blocks away from the Louvre carried several cheap costumes of superheroes. Superman, Wonder Woman, Flash, and to her great embarrassment and relief, Ladybug and Chat Noir costumes.
She found them to be inaccurate to her suit, but no one else other than Chat truly had an opportunity to notice the little details.
She grabbed what she needed hastily and threw a few euros on the counter on her way out the door. The poor cashier looked like she was about to faint at seeing the superhero of Paris herself.
She sprinted into an empty alley, pulling out the costume. Ladybug wrinkled her nose at the material, but she’d have to suck it up. Thankfully, this particular version had cotton padding already sewed in, giving her feminine frame enough bulk that she could pass for a guy at first glance.
She shoved a itchy blonde wig over her head, holding it to her head with crooked bobby pins. She tucked her pigtails into the wig the best she could, but strands still tickled the back of her neck.
Ladybug was already racing out of the alley while pulling the black mask over her own. The elastic band dug into her head, and she was nearly sure it would fall off. She didn’t have time to worry about it though.
She was about to swing her yoyo, before cursing, realizing it would end the whole ruse before it even began.
She flicked open the phone portion of it as she scaled up a fire escape.
It rang once.
“Ladybug?”
“Yeah.” She squeezed her head to her shoulder to keep it held there.
“Is that your ear?”
“Not now Kitty. I need my hands. Get ready to run.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Just get ready to run. You trust me, don’t you?”
He breathed, undertones of fear in the shakiness of it. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
“Then get ready to run. We only got one shot at this. Go through the backdoor, and don’t look back. You have to get as far away as possible quickly.”
“Okay.”
“See you in a few minutes, Kitty.”
---
“Look! It’s Chat Noir!”
Ladybug kept running along the rooftops close to the Louvre. She just needed to gather their attention, then get the hell out of there.
Predictably, every head swiveled in her direction, and she prayed this would be enough of a distraction for her partner to get out.
Her feet thudded against the gravel covered rooftops, hastening her pace.
Helicopters started flying towards her, as expected, but she didn’t think they all would.
Then the police got in their cars and started following her from the streets.
“Shit!”
That wasn’t good. Surely most of them were supposed to stay back at the Louvre to contain the crime scene.
Then sounds started assaulting her eardrums.
Pop!
Pop!
Pop!
Dots spread in the shingles and she knew exactly what was happening.
Bullets were reigning down on her.
“AS A SUPERPOWERED INDIVIDUAL,” Rancomprix’s voice boomed over one of the approaching helicopter’s sound system. “WE ARE REQUIRED TO USE ANY MEANS NECESSARY TO SUBDUE YOU! THIS WILL BE YOUR ONE AND ONLY WARNING TO TURN YOURSELF IN PEACEFULLY!”
“Peacefully.” She hissed under her breath, taking sharp turns to avoid the bullets' aim.
She swerved over rooftops, her moves unpredictable. One hit her square in the shoulder, and she bit back a gasp. It wasn’t magic, and couldn’t penetrate her suit, but holy fuck that hurt.
Ladybug didn’t notice where her feet were taking her, until she saw the familiar outline of the sports arena from her first battle with Stoneheart.
An idea sparked in her mind, praying to god she could make it with minimal injuries.
She bit her tongue as she had to deck out into a straight sprint. The bullets bounced off her thanks to her suit. She would never stop being grateful to whatever magical material it was made of.
The back of her thigh stung, then her arm, her upper back, everywhere.
She launched herself off the roof, falling through the open roof of the stadium. It was too high. She couldn't slow her fall without her yoyo, and she had no staff.
Ladybug’s stomach swooped dangerously, nausea creeping in for the first time in awhile as her body collided with the grassy ground. She rolled, distributing her momentum the best she could, but the impact still made her entire body ache.
She ran for the exit by the stands, where she knew an entire maze of hallways were set up inside. They wouldn’t be able to find her.
Ladybug had nearly made it when she felt a harsh sting on her cheek.
She barely held in her yelp of pain, not stopping until she entered the women's bathroom. She stripped off her fake costume at lightning speed, her red suit a welcome sight after the whole ordeal.
Ladybug spared a glance at the mirror, and grimaced. A long cut ran across her cheek from where a bullet must have grazed her.
She touched it delicately, and hissed in pain. Her fingers came back covered in blood, hardly noticeable against her suit glove.
Red.
Red.
Red.
She swallowed and wiped her cheek with a paper towel quickly. It nearly made her yell at the rough handling, but she didn’t have time.
She needed to find her partner.
And figure out what the fuck was going on .
---
Goddammit, Kitty!
Ladybug wanted to scream.
Her stupid, stupid partner had apparently decided to tell the sculptor of the statue they were dating. Which led to Théo Barbot becoming akumatized because he had a crush on her.
Which, ew.
She shook off the nasty feeling that crawled under her skin.
Then, of course, he fucking hung up on her.
“I’ve got to fix this, M’lady. It’s my fault.”
“Ugh!”
Stupid cat!
She was going to skin him for this.
“Hey! That’s Ladybug!”
She looked down from a rooftop, seeing a boy that must have been a few years older than her waving. His friends eyes went wide, pulling out their phones to record.
“Are you looking for Chat Noir?” He yelled up.
A girl with dark dreadlocks started shaking his shoulder. Like ‘Dude! Dude! Dude!” All the teenagers were recording her by now.
Wait…
She flicked her yoyo, lowering herself to the ground gracefully. The poor girl looked like she was going to have a heart attack.
The group of five gasped.
“Did… Did Chat Noir do that?” Their eyes were even wider, some even glistening with tears.
After all, in their minds, their hero betrayed them all.
And the mangy cat wasn’t even going to fix it before going after the akuma.
“My livestream, dude. There are so many views now.” One of them hissed to his friend.
She held her head high, showing false confidence.
“How many are watching?”
The teen was practically shaking at being addressed by Ladybug herself. From stress, fear, or joy, she wasn’t sure. He looked vaguely familiar too.
“Uhhh, like, like, 10k.”
Oh, he was in that kids dance awards show recently. Ladybug Luck was coming in handy right about now.
“I need a favor.”
---
The comments were going crazy.
She felt a little bad, basically stealing the kids' phone. But he gladly gave it to her, looking like it was the most amazing thing to ever happen to him. She tied it to her chest using her yoyo cord.
She needed the people to see everything if her partner's reputation had any chance at surviving.
Ladybug dropped through the skylight, rolling to disperse her momentum.
The studio had spare bits of clay and tools laying around. Typical. But the wall of photos of her made her stomach churn.
The usual shots, caught by reporters. A few of the lucky spectators that had gone viral. Some, grainy, black and white, security camera angles.
Her stomach threatened to toss.
She swallowed bile.
In front of her stood two Chat Noirs.
Both were frozen, staring at her.
The phone started buzzing even more.
Perfect.
---
She ducked out quickly, throwing the phone at her partner to let him have his fun.
Ladybug landed in an alley, detransforming quickly.
“Oh my god.” Marinette panted, leaning against a dirty wall.
It was closed off enough that she was confident no one was going to walk in on her.
Tikki floated down into her palms, exhausted as well. “You did a great job.”
She sighed, her knees giving out and letting her slowly sink to the floor of the grimy alley. “I never, ever, want to do that again.”
Tikki giggled.
Marinette raised a hand to her cheek. She hissed in pain.
The blood was long gone. Not a mark on her pale skin. But the pain would remain, as she learned over the course of battle after battle.
Sure, it would heal enough for her to continue with her everyday life. But magic could only fix so much.
But if the cost of bringing back hundreds of people from the dead was only a few aches and pains, she’d do it a hundred times.
She hoped she wouldn’t have to do it a hundred times.
Marinette pulled out her phone. She pulled up the livestream, seeing Chat Noir’s face fill her screen again.
He was grinning, looking back to his usually happy self.
Comments flooded in. One after another.
He answered them, smiling without a care in the world.
Marinette smiled too.
The public didn't want him dead anymore.
Thank god.
She knew, in her heart, that she would do anything to keep that smile on his face. She trusted him without a doubt. Something she didn’t do often.
It took her parents several months to even be able to hold a proper conversation with her.
Ladybug and Marinette would die for him, if needed.
They were partners.
Ride or die.
---
Marinette walked through the bakery like her entire body wasn’t killing her.
“Ah, Marinette. Where have you been?” Sabine asked.
She faltered, too exhausted to remember she had left though her skylight and not the front door. “Oh, I was with Juleka.”
Sabine smiled.
Tom and Sabine were too preoccupied with other things to notice the other girl hadn’t come back to the bakery in months. They hadn’t noticed their relationship fall apart. Or how it took a toll on their supposed daughter.
The bell jingled pleasantly.
A woman walked up to the counter, and Sabin slid easily into customer service mode.
Marinette recognized the soft glow of the woman's skin.
A few days along.
A girl.
Born premature.
Marinette slipped past her mother, but she caught her arm.
Sabin kissed her cheek quickly. They were far more affectionate in public than private.
Marinette forced a smile, swallowing down the pain.
She snagged a chocolate croissant as she left, climbing the stairs to her room.
The trapdoor opened at normal, but everything felt different.
Her room felt different.
Adrien Agreste’s face stared back at her from her wall.
Too much like in Théo Barbot’s studio.
All of a sudden she lost her appetite.
Marinette blinked, before walking the rest of the way into her room and tearing a photo off the wall.
Then another.
And another.
She threw the tattered remains into her steel trash can. In her anger at herself for letting an obsession take her over like that, she threw in a lit match.
It was over the top.
Dramatic.
Maybe unnecessary.
The fire blazed, and she opened a window.
Her eyes caught on the statue outside again.
Marinette nodded to herself.
Ride or die.
Notes:
Sooo.....
What did you think?
This chapter was meant to show Ladybug and Chat Noir's relationship a bit better. Then snowballed into some heavy topics.
But we saw Jacquet!!! She'll be in more often in the future, don't worry.
The Copycat episode always bothered me in the show, because it either meant there was magic preventing people from knowing the hero's identities, or the guy was a pedophile. I felt like I had to include this episode. The chapter was actually going to be a lot darker, before I decided it would be better for character development to not go that route.
What do you think of the public's perspective on our heroes?
Did you think the side affects of the Miraculous were interesting?
How about How Marinette got rid of the photo wall.
Character growth coming. (or at least I think).Damian's chapter is next. Fair warning, it will be sad. But it is important. My evil author side is coming though.
It's coming as soon a possible. Don't expect well timed updates until like, the end of June.Thank you all for sticking around though, it means a lot.
Please comment :)
Chapter 16: Pink
Notes:
I'm back!!!
I'll keep this note short so you can read the chapter.
I've been wanting to write this one for awhile, and I think it turned out ok.
This chapter belongs to Damian.Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Colours were commonly associated with emotions. Feelings. Memories.
Green: wealth, envy, nature.
Red: anger, danger, love.
Blue: sadness, coldness, intelligence.
Green was the colour of Damian’s eyes. As were his mother’s irises. And the Lazarus Pit waters. And that horrible bracelet wrapped around his sister’s wrist as she died.
He didn’t like green.
Red was the colour he bleed, and what would stain his hands forever. Red Hood’s helmet and Red Robin’s suit brought a sense of danger and protection.
Red was better than green.
Blue was the colour of the ocean, the sky, and Nightwing’s suit. It was peaceful. It was the colour of most of his family's eyes. He felt safe surrounded by it.
It was nice.
Pink, despite society's opinion of it, was his favorite.
It was so different from the dark tones most often present in his life. Promising light, peace, hope.
He had decided pink was his favorite colour when he was nine years old.
He and his sister were sent to Japan on a mission to obtain information. Their final mission together, though neither knew it at the time.
They knew after their return their training would increase. They knew it would be a long time before they would get another opportunity to explore the world a little.
Damian hadn’t minded at the time.
Didn’t think much of it.
So he smiled when his sister dragged him into a grove of cherry blossom trees, playing the part of excited tourists while their caretaker trailed behind them with a fake smile.
His sister danced through the trees, her smile far more real.
Pale pink petals fell around her, landing in her hair.
She laughed, joyful and happy and so unlike anything heard in the League.
Pink became his favorite colour because it made his sister smile. Something he wished she got to do more.
---
“Really?” Jason asked, incredulous.
Damian scowled, crossing his arms.
Jason held his hands up. “Whoa, I’m not saying it’s bad. I’m not trying to be sexist. I just… Really?”
“Is that simple response too much for your single brain cell to manage?”
“Ohhhh.” Stephanie called, walking into the dining room with far too much energy for so early in the morning. “What did you do to piss off Demon Spawn?”
“Isn’t it too early for this.” Tim said as he entered as well, Cassandra and Bruce following close behind.
“I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it, Demon Spawn. You just didn’t strike me as that kind of guy.”
Duke and Dick entered, both rubbing sleep out of their eyes. Last night they had finally gotten the latest Arkham breakout under control. Since the whole family was exhausted, they had unanimously decided to just spend the night at the manor.
“Now you’re making me curious.” Bruce quirked an eyebrow.
Jason grinned a little too wide. “I just asked what our Bat Brat’s favorite colour is.”
“Isn’t it red?”
“Nah, it’s green.”
“Black, obviously.”
“Nope.” Jason’s grin was definitely too wide. “Why don’t you tell them what it is?”
Damian glared at him from across the table.
“Pink.”
The reaction was instant. Tim choked on his coffee. Duke rubbed his eyes, like he wasn’t sure if he was still dreaming. Stephanie threw her head back and laughed. Cass nodded approvingly.
“Pink? Really?”
Damian rolled his eyes. “Yes, as I have previously stated, my favorite colour is pink.”
Bruce hummed. “There’s worse colours you could have as your favorite.” He smiled into his coffee. “Like orange.”
The entire family wrinkled their nose.
“You know,” Tim said. “I’m really starting to like pink.”
---
The Waynes were not a cheery family.
Nor did they pretend to be.
They all cycled through weird bouts of depression. Tim’s was the worst. No one really discussed what happened when his depression got really bad.
Damian didn’t know the details. As far as he could tell, Duke, Jason, and himself were the only ones too not know, and were far too afraid to ask.
So it wasn’t uncommon to see someone moping around the manor.
Damian woke up on a random morning, nothing special at all about the day. But as he stood in front of the mirror brushing his teeth, he found himself looking away more often than usual.
It wasn’t a great day.
But he continued, as always.
He got home from school, in a worse mood than usual. The type of mood where all he wanted to do was crawl into bed and stop existing.
“That’s probably not good.”
He ignored his sisters comment.
He ran into Tim on the stairwell. Literally.
“Ugh.” Drake grunted, steadying himself with the railing, barely managing to catch the box in his hands.
Damian shouldered past. He just wanted to go to bed. Maybe that would shake off this weird feeling.
“You good, Damian?”
He stopped, and looked at his brother over his shoulder.
“I’m fine.”
Tim raised an eyebrow, not believing him for a moment. “Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Okay then…”
The conversation trailed off into awkward silence. Damian was about to make a break for his room when Tim spoke again.
“Want a donut?”
He opened the box to a dozen donuts prettily decorated with pink icing.
Stupidly enough, the colour made him feel a bit better.
He took a donut. “Thank you.” Then ran off to his room.
He missed Tim watching him with a critical eye.
---
It was subtle at first.
Alfred started making it a habit to give Damian his morning tea in a pink mug. A mug that he was pretty sure was bought specifically for him.
He didn’t complain.
Then Dick started slipping packs of bubble gum into his pockets. Damian didn’t actually like gum, but after getting into a strange competition with Jon for who could blow the biggest bubble, he chewed it relentlessly.
Bruce left him a pair of very fluffy slippers outside his door. If the grin his father tried to hide when he wore them to breakfast was any indication, he looked ridiculous in them.
Tim was practical, and gifted him a pale rose travel mug. Of course a gift like that would come from a coffee addict.
Barbra bought an abundance of pink school supplies in various shades. It looked like the generic princess dream.
Cassandra left a bouquet of carnations on his bedside table. Then at the end of the week, switched it out for darker chrysanthemums, then tulips. Each bouquet was slightly larger than the last, to the point where he had to move the vase to his shelf.
Duke got him a comfy hoodie in the shade. It was big and soft, and Damian quickly took up wearing it around the house on a regular basis.
Jason got him a pair of brand new shoes with pink detailing. He got a lot of compliments for them at school.
Steph bought him a pink Starbucks drink lamp, because of course she did.
Even Jon started saving the pink Tic Tacs for when they met up.
Then it escalated.
Soon, all his socks were replaced with pink pairs. He suspected Dick was the culprit.
Then there was always a pink frosted cupcake waiting for him after dinner.
Then the bouquets started getting bigger. To the point where they no longer could stay on his shelf.
Then the gifts started getting stranger. All of them collecting on his mostly barren shelves.
Heart shaped sunglasses. (Not too bad, just tacky.)
A Hello Kitty pocket watch. (He didn’t even know they existed, after all, who makes a Hello Kitty pocket watch? )
A fuzzy troll doll from the 90s. (He’d never admit it, but the eyes creeped him out.)
Even a plastic flamingo lawn ornament. ( Why? )
It seemed like everyone was trying to outdo the previous competitor.
He drew the line though, when we came home from school and opened his door. There, sat in the center of his bed, was a gigantic pink teddy bear.
Damian blinked.
Marinette (the traitor) was laughing so hard she was leaning against the wall, slowly falling down it.
The bear was big enough that it’s head grazed the ceiling, and the arms looked like they were almost as long as he was tall. The fur was pleasantly pink and soft looking, with a heart shaped nose stitched on and black embroidered eyes.
How did they even fit it through the door?
Damian blinked again.
Marinette was collapsed on the floor, hugging her stomach from laughter. “This is one of the best things I’ve ever seen.”
---
Alfred, after laughing at the whole situation, firmly scolded the rest of the family for such a foolish prank. Yet no one really missed the uptern of his lip, or the amusement in his voice as he reprimanded them.
As a result, they were all sentenced to helping Damian remove the bear from his room.
With the exception of Bruce, as he claimed to have a time sensitive case, Barbra, who pulled the “I’m a poor woman in a wheelchair” card.
And Cass, because she was Cass.
She was also sitting on Damian’s bed with her legs crossed, watching them try valiantly to remove the bear from the room.
“For fucks sake, how the hell did it even get in here?” Jason groaned, body squashed in the teddy’s backside as he tried pushing it through the door.
Damian had been spared the humiliating task, as he was the victim, and was enjoying the show from his spot next to Cassandra.
“How the hell am I supposed to know? I didn’t do it!” Tim called from the hallway, as he tried to pull the head.
“Steph, I swear if it was you…”
“It wasn’t dumbass!” Steph snapped, hitting his shoulder harder than necessary. “I’ve got my head up this bear’s ass trying to get rid of him, just like you!”
“ Dickwad …”
“Why would it be me! Push the stupid thing! Goddamnit, Tim pull!”
“I am pulling! Tell them to push!”
“We’re fucking pushing!” Steph and Jason responded in unison.
Duke leaned over to Damian from his stop next to him on the floor. He’d been excused as he was the least likely suspect. “Is it always like this?”
Cass leaned forward and patted his shoulder, a smile on her lips. “Still new, little brother.”
“I’ve never gotten tired of this.” Marinette chuckled, sitting next to Cass. She was close enough that she could have touched her.
“Okay, on three you guy’s push, we’ll pull. Got it, Tim?”
“Why are you singling me out!”
“1…”
“2…”
“3!”
Jason and Steph heaved, and the bear gave way, causing the monstrosity of pink fluff to fall on top of Dick and Tim, who flayed around underneath it.
“Get it off!”
“Ew! I got fur in my mouth!”
Marinette was laughing her ass off, rolling on the sheets.
Damian would never admit it, but the slight quirk of his lip showed just how proud he was to call these imbeciles his family.
---
Damian first woke to a soft breeze.
He opened his eyes sharply, looking around for threats.
The window of the safehouse was open. The soft floral curtains fluttering in the wind.
Marinette’s bed was empty.
Damian’s hand shot under his pillow, grabbing a knife. He stood stiffly, looking for possible enemies.
There was a towel rolled under the crack at the bottom of the door. To hide shadows and muffle footsteps, no doubt.
Damian looked out the window, and felt hugely better.
Marinette was sitting on the beach, a blanket beside her. She must have just wanted to stretch her legs.
He carefully crawled out the window, bare feet making contact with the dry sand.
Japan had truly beautiful beaches. Especially those in the more secluded areas.
He left a trail of footprints behind him as he walked towards his sister. His footsteps were silent, but he knew she was aware of his presence.
Damian sat beside her, sand itching into his night clothes.
Marinette didn't flinch.
Silence.
The calming kind. Where the quiet wasn’t loud, or unbearably void.
Marinette was the first to break it.
“Do you ever wonder what it would be like?”
Damian turned his head to look at her. She didn’t take her eyes off the dark horizon.
“Wonder what exactly?”
She wiggled her nose nervously. She only did that around him, showing the vulnerability the League was supposed to have beaten out of her.
His sister was stubborn like that.
“What it would have been like… If we were never born into the League?”
Damian’s eyes went wide.
“The League of Shadows is our life. Our legacy.”
“But is it our home?”
Marinette turned to look at him. He could see the nervousness on her face clear as day.
Damian looked at her, and knew. “My home is with you.”
She smiled. “I feel the same.”
Silence.
She was once again the one to break it. “I’m going to get killed, one of these days.”
“What?” he breathed. What the hell could have made her think that?
“The League has no room for weakness.”
“You are not weak.”
“I am in the way they perceive me.”
“You have lived this long.”
“By luck.”
“I do not believe in luck.”
“Then you should learn. It’s one of the few things I have right now.”
Damian’s heart tightened. A sinking feeling settled in his stomach.
“You could…”
“No.”
Marinette pulled her knees to her chest. She tugged her white nightgown over her legs. In the League, she surely would have been scolded for stretching material like that, not to mention the vulnerable position she was in.
“I have.”
“And I will not.” Marinette's eyes were steely with conviction. “A life… It’s created out of nothing. Don’t you, in some way, believe it is truly an incredible thing?”
Damian didn’t know what to say. So he didn’t say anything.
“I do believe there are those in this world who do not deserve life.”
His tongue felt like lead. “Then why not take them?”
“Because then I’m a hypocrite.”
Silence.
Heavy.
He broke it this time, shifting uncomfortably. “I’ve taken lives before. I have killed.”
Marinette tilted her head. Her eyes were crystal blue and honest. “You have done what you were trained to do.”
“Then what is the difference between us. Have you not received the same training as me?”
“You forget I’m a hypocrite. And we have different expectations placed upon us.”
“We are similar enough. I am the heir. But you will rule alongside me.”
“What if you don’t?”
“Huh?”
“What if you don’t?”
Marinette’s stare bored into his soul. He felt naked, and knew he’d never be able to hide his feelings. Never from her.
“I am meant to rule the League. It is what I was born to do.”
Her lips twisted into something not quite a sneer, and not directed at him either. “Don’t you ever wonder if that’s what you want to do. And don’t respond with one of mothers messages of ‘it is your meaning’, or ‘it is what you were raised for’.”
His throat felt dry.
Marinette went on. “There’s an entire world outside of the League we are not a part of.”
“We are all in this world.”
“On this earth. But our worlds are different. Ours is filled with sandy mountains, fear, and blood. Theirs is filled with blue skies, hope, and consistency. Normalcy. And I envy it.”
There it was, that flicker of fire in his sister's eyes. Small now, barley and ember, but a beginning to a combustion.
“It sounds like a boring life.”
“But boring is peaceful.”
He had no words to combat that.
“Do you ever wonder if our father lives a boring life?”
Father.
A word hardly ever uttered in the League, and mostly by Talia when referring to Ra’s.
“No.” It was a lie.
She knew it, too.
“What do you think he does? Was he an average Joe our mother seduced off the street, or was he chosen for accomplishments and intelligence?”
“Mother would have chosen anyone less than brilliant to sire her children.”
“Then what do you think happened to him? Did they part, go their separate ways and never speak again? Were they more involved than just one night? Does mother ever think about him? Does he ever think about her? Is he even alive?”
Question after question swam in his mind in a raging whirlpool. The last stuck out like a beacon, and he had difficulty avoiding thinking about it.
Their father.
Dead or alive.
“And what if he is alive? What then? Does he have siblings? Do we have aunts and uncles we’ve never met? Is he married? Does he have other children? Do we have siblings?”
He stopped breathing.
Marinette could sense she hit her mark. She rarely ever missed.
“Siblings…” It came out strangled, pulled from his throat by the candle sized flame in his twin's eyes.
“Yes. Brothers. Sisters. Siblings. Are we not alone?”
“We…” the fire in her eyes only grew with every passing second. “We’ve always had each other.”
“And we always will.” She promised.
“I don’t need more siblings.”
She nodded like she understood. It's always been Damian and Marinette. Marinette and Damian. Neither name had the same ring to it without the other following soon after.
“I want to leave.”
It hit him like a bullet at point blank range.
“W-What?”
“I want to leave.”
His mind would not let him believe it.
“Japan? We’ll be leaving shortly after dawn.”
“No, we won’t. I slipped some sedatives into our chaperone’s drink before she went to bed. It will give us a few hour’s head start.”
He couldn’t be hearing this. His ears were ringing.
“I don’t understand.”
He didn’t want to understand.
Marinette grabbed the blanket next to her and pulled. Underneath were two black bags. She picked them up and threw one in his lap.
He picked it up with shaking hands. Inside was a brown hair spray for quick changes, a set of average clothes, cash, and a passport.
Adam Montgomery.
Age 10.
American, from Illinois.
He looked to his sister, who was holding up her own passport.
Claire Montgomery.
Age 11.
American, from Illinois.
“Twins are more likely to be remembered. It would be bad enough for minors to be traveling alone.”
“I…”
“There's a boat waiting on the dock a mile from here. It’s transporting about 20 thousand candles and anime figurines. No one would notice two kids hitching a ride to get out of the country.”
Damian felt like the wind was completely knocked out of him. What the hell? Where was this coming from? Why would they do this? Why… Why was he curious?
His voice came out hoarse and stranded. “Where would we even go?”
Marinette smiled slightly. “That's the beauty of it. We could go anywhere.”
“A-Anywhere?”
“We could take a ship to China to see the great wall, and the next day fly down to Rio to see the Carnival. We’d be free.”
“I.. I…”
“Damian,” she leaned forward and grasped his hands. He met her fiery eyes with his own fearful ones. “We will never get an opportunity like this again. Sure, we could probably figure something out, but nothing as easy as this. I’m not going without you, but I also will not grow up to lead hundreds of assassins into their version of a better world. I want more with my life. And you could be so much more too. I will follow you, Brother. But not into the world our Grandfather wishes for you.”
He wasn’t sure. So many options had suddenly been opened for him. He didn’t do things like this. He was rational, knowing the path he was on. A path that everyone told him to walk.
And Marinette had come in with a bucket of concrete and a spackle knife, ready to pave a new one, wherever they wanted. And he had no idea what was waiting for them at the end.
He was terrified.
“I don’t want to leave.”
She looked disappointed, but not unsurprised.
“I will ask again in the future. Because I know our mother has plans for me I will not agree with.”
“I’ll protect you.”
Marinette looked at him with something he could not place. But she smiled softly. “I know you will do what you believe to be best for me. But we have different views.”
“I won’t let Mother harm you.” he said it certainly, not a waver in his voice.
She didn’t speak.
They stayed sitting on the pristine beach for what felt like hours, watching the sky turn lighter with every passing second.
Dawn broke along the horizon. Golden light shone on his tan skin, and across Marinette’s hair. He could see the natural pink on his sister's cheeks.
The light sparked in her eyes. A light Damian was sure would not diminish.
And she spoke.
“I trust you.”
Notes:
Well that was fun, right?
What did you think? Please give me some feedback.
Next chapter belongs to Marinette. If you want a certain episode or something in the chapter, please comment them. I can't guarantee I'll do it, but I'll do my best.
Timelines in this fic will be different from the show and comics. I will be doing my best however to keep it close to cannon, but the cannon timelines are sketchy too.
Updates will most likely be sporadic, not going to lie. But fear not! I will finish this fic!
Thank you for reading this long note, and the chapter.
All my readers have been so patient and I can't thank you enough. I love you all!
I'm also aware (as it have been pointing out to me in the comments) that this story is long. It was intended to be long, it will be long. But it has to be long to get the full experience. If I start cutting scenes, the important ones just are not going to hit the same way. If it bothers you how long this is taking, I'm sorry but it has to be this way.
So please be patient and respectful in the comments. There has been few, but some have been rude. If you don't have something nice to say, don't say it.For those of you who I have nothing but love for, Please comment :)
Chapter 17: Therapy and Friends
Notes:
I'm so sorry I've been go so long. I feel like I just keep apologizing for taking a long time, so just expect me to take a long time from here on out.
Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Marinette’s adoptive parents had several requirements for her when she was adopted. Of course, not all sprung on her at once, but requirements and expectations nonetheless.
High grades, which, thank god , were not difficult to obtain. She’d been told by several teachers that she was smart enough to bump up several grades, though was advised against it because of ‘social development’.
Helping around the bakery. Marinette didn’t strictly dislike it. But it was not her passion, or a hobby she particularly enjoyed. She was sure that if her social worker bothered to come by anymore she’d have something to say about child labor laws. Because, even if it wasn’t horrible, the hours were taxing and not added to an allowance of her own money.
Another, amongst others, was that she was to attend a meeting with her therapist once a week.
Renée Bonnaire was young the first time Marinette met her three years ago. She still was, but no longer new to the job.
The 20-something woman was by far the most likable recurring adult in Marinette’s life. She had light brown skin, dark brown hair, and eyes the colour of chocolate. She was a fan of makeup, and even bought Marinette her first tube of mascara one session after she expressed her curiosity. Not to mention when she gifted her the sketchbook in the office after she had filled nearly half of it with fashion designs.
“No, no, take it. I'm sure you’ll put it to good use. Besides, no one else is using it.”
“Are you sure?” Little Marinette had looked up at the woman, who at the time had seemed scary tall.
Renée had smiled. “I wouldn't have said it if I wasn’t sure. Now don’t you have a dress to sew?”
She wore it to the next session. She nearly cried when Renée complemented her.
Marinette loved her therapist.
But now, with Ladybug, she couldn’t tell her everything. Even though she desperately wanted too.
And Renée could sense she was withholding something as well. So she defaulted to asking questions about what they rarely talked about.
Family.
“My maman said her cousin Wang will be coming to visit. She says that means I'll have to call him Uncle Wang.”
Renée looked at her over her glasses. “And how does that make you feel?”
Marinette shifted in her seat. “Uh, I don’t know.”
“You seem bothered by this.”
“I’m not. I’m sure Wang is a nice guy. But he doesn’t speak a lick of English. Which isn't a problem either, since I’m fluent in Mandarin. But… I don’t know..”
“I’ve noticed you call him Wang instead of Uncle Wang. Do you not view him as family?”
Marinette fiddled with her sleeve. “Well, he isn’t my family. We’re not related, and I’ve never met him in person either.” She shrugged. “So, he’s not my uncle.”
Renée nodded, tapping her pencil on her notepad. “How do you feel about Tom and Sabine?”
She shrugged again. “Things have been better since I started calling them Maman and Papa.”
In truth, she only started referring to them with those names to avoid attention at school. Saying their first names led to too much confusion, and guardians led to questions she'd rather not answer.
“Do you view them as such?”
“Sometimes…”
“Can you elaborate?”
“It’s just… We don’t really talk with each other much. I don’t really know them. Sometimes we’ll watch a movie, or play video games, or something, and it feels like a real family. But.. it doesn’t happen very much anymore. Not like when I was younger.”
“Do you think you did family activities with your biological family?”
Marinette’s hand traced the cool stones of her bracelet. The last tie to her biological family she had.
Surely, they must have truly loved her to give her such a beautiful and expensive gift. She knew the stones were real, as they were always cool to the touch. Marinette suspected it may be an heirloom, and the name on the beads belonged to a great grandmother she never met.
So they must have loved her.
They must have sat down for movies together. They must have read bedtime stories and chased away the monsters under her bed. They must have baked cookies on lazy afternoons. They must have played board games and charades and made fools of themselves together.
But Marinette’s hand strayed slightly higher, tracing a thin white scar that ran across her forearm.
Marinette hadn’t understood when she was younger. She didn’t know other children didn’t have white lines criss crossing their bodies. She didn't know other children weren't used to aches and pains so heavily ingrained in her bones as they healed. She didn’t know other children didn’t also have every instinct to run as fast and far as she could at the drop of a dime.
Marinette didn’t know these things when she woke up alone in a hospital room with pink curtains, with polite yet scary nurses, surrounded by an unusual language that rolled off her tongue rough and slow.
“I… I don’t know.”
---
Wang Cheng turned out to be a lovely man. He was a chef, who could make the best soup Marinette had ever had. Food was in the Cheng family's blood.
He even tossed her a too large apron and insisted she cook with him. To learn about her adoptive family's roots. And possibly her own, since no one was certain what cultures and genetics ran through her blood.
Despite Wang not speaking a lick of English, she grew to enjoy practicing her skills in a different language. It came to her slow at first, but soon she was fluent, as she suspected she had previously been in the past.
He told her about his travels. His home residence may be China, but he’s cooked in England, Japan, Brazil, and just about everywhere else. His tales of the American cities he visited had her enraptured by the towering skyscrapers, mix of accents, and the bold statement that anyone could chase their dreams if they try hard enough.
And of course, because everything was going well, he got akumatized.
Marinette’s stomach churned and threatened to dispose of the warm soup she had previously eaten. Ladybug had stood and faced the akuma as she would any other. Completely ordinary.
Wang cut his visit short after that.
As he left, he pressed a slip of paper into her hand of his number. As well as 100 American dollars.
He winked at her, and whispered quietly, “Don’t tell Sabine about this. Save this for your escape to America.”
She placed it in a little box under her bed, and smiled at the thought.
---
Renée tapped her pencil on her notepad gently.
“So, Wang sounds like a wonderful man.”
“He is. He told me I should come visit him some time… I’m not sure when I’ll find the time.”
The therapist raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow.
“It’s just… I have school, and the bakery, and my friends, and…”
“And someone?”
Marinette’s eyes went wide. “No! No, no, no! No one like that.”
“Are you sure?”
“I… well there may have been someone.”
“Oh? Girl, guy, or other?”
Marinette was actually aware of the brightly coloured pride flag hung on the wall behind her. “Guy. I’m not all that interested in girls.”
Renée nodded politely. “You’re always free to explore your identity. Gender, sexuality, or otherwise.”
Marinette nodded.
“Now, tell me about this guy.”
“I’m not interested in him anymore. I realized my behavior wasn’t healthy. I was a bit obsessed.”
“It’s good you could recognize that about your own behavior. Are you friends with him?”
“Kinda? I’m not really sure. I’ve been trying. When I first met him I was a bit of a jerk. But I thought he was also one. He’s not though, and we’ve moved past it. We’ve never talked much, I kept stuttering around him.”
“It's best to only get involved with people you are comfortable around and trust.”
---
“Your toes are orange and taste like lavender?”
It was by chance that Marinette heard Adrien attempt to say something to Nino in Mandarin. Attempt, being an important word.
Adrien groaned, turning to face her from his desk. “That’s what it means? I told father I was no good at Mandarin. I’m better at Italian.”
Marinette cocked her head to the side, switching languages. “You speak Italian?”
The blonde blinked at her owlishly. “Nevermind.”
“Sorry.” She grimaced. “Why are you learning Mandarin anyways? You don’t seem to like it very much.”
“My father wants me to. He wants his son to be able to communicate with assorted business men from around the country. The face of his brand might have to take a few photo shoots in China or Italy. I don’t see the point, France is beyond beautiful. There’s a reason it’s called the city of lights. And London’s amazing as well. When I lived there, my mother used to take me to all the museums and parks. The architecture is incredible.”
“I’ve heard. I didn’t know you lived in London.”
He waved his hand. “Only for about a year. My father was opening a branch there, and since my mother’s family lives there we decided to move temporarily. Thanks to that, I’m fluent in English.”
“I love English. It’s one of my favorite languages. If you ever want help with your Mandarin or Italian, I could help.”
Adrien sighed. “Thanks. How did you learn them? Got any tips?”
She shook her head, “I’ve just got a thing for languages.”
Marinette didn’t know how she learned them either.
---
“Hey, Kitty.”
Ladybug landed on a rooftop next to Chat Noir.
“M’Lady, a pleasure as always. If only we didn’t always meet in times like this.”
As if on cue, the akuma, green skinned and thin as a twig, shot a blast of purple light towards them. They jumped back, diving in different directions.
“If only. What do we know about them?”
“Girl was jealous of another girl because her crush liked her instead. Blasts make people even more jealous of each other, and causes them to go into a fit of rage to exact revenge or something.”
A balding man ran across the street with an electric razor buzzing. “I’M GOING TO SHAVE YOUR HEAD! THEN YOU WON’T HAVE THAT STUPID PERFECT HAIR, ADRIEN AGRESTE! SO THE REST OF US MODELS WILL HAVE A CHANCE IN THE INDUSTRY!”
Ladybug laughed. “Or something. I wouldn't want to be Agreste right now.”
Chat grinned, but without its usual mischievous edge. “Yeah, wouldn’t want to be that guy.”
---
“How about your friend group?
“I usually hang out with Alya, but I like to think of myself as friends with most of the people in my class.”
“Any old friends you still keep in touch with?”
“Uh… not all that much anymore… I used to be pretty close with Luka, Juleka’s brother. But after… well, you remember. But anyways, she didn’t like him hanging out with me, and we both just wanted to make her happy. Sooo…. Yeah.”
“Have you thought about reconnecting?”
“I don’t want to make things awkward for Juleka.”
“You’ve been sharing a class with her for several years now. If your presence made her extremely uncomfortable, she could have switched schools. You mentioned her brother attends a different school as well?”
“Yes, he does.”
“You don’t need to be best friends with him, but perhaps increasing your friend group would be good for you. And not necessarily with only him. New friends would be beneficial to you.”
---
Marinette sped out of the building, using all her willpower to try and not fall on the steps. However, no matter her will power, she tripped.
“Oh! I got you.”
A cool hand grasped her wrist, the other landed on her shoulder. The hands pulled her up back into a standing position.
“Thanks.” Marinette cast her eyes upwards, landing on a familiar face. “Hi Luka. It’s been awhile.”
He grinned awkwardly. She noticed his hair was dyed a different shade of blue than when she had last seen him, a quick glimpse a few months ago.
“Yeah, it has. Your melody is different.”
“Uh,” she tried to laugh it off. “A lot has happened since then. We should hang out again sometime.”
He nodded. “Let me give you my number.”
Marinette grinned widely, glad to have a friend back.
---
Marinette brought a fresh croissant to the teenager sitting at the window seat of the bakery.
“Here you go.”
He jumped, startled. “Oh, t-t-thanks.”
She froze.
The boy, because he could barely be a teenager, if that, had fluffy black hair, and skin as pale as a sheet. He was writing in a journal of some sort, pulling it close to his body so it wouldn’t be seen. His emerald eyes were bright, and would have given off a look of pure innocence if not for the purplish bruise covering one.
“No problem.”
He ducked his head, curling into himself. Trying to make himself as small as possible.
Marinette wanted to continue the conversation. She needed to continue the conversation. She felt an instinct, like she was supposed to speak to him.
“I like your bracelets.”
The boy glanced at the rubber rainbow armbands. “Th-th-thank you. I.. I like your a-apron.” His cheeks tinted pink immediately after. He curled in on himself even more.
She brushed off her flour covered apron. “Thanks. I’m Marinette. What’s your name?”
He peered at her carefully over his book. “M-Marc.”
“Nice to meet you, Marc. You should come around the bakery more, I haven’t seen you here before.”
He nodded shyly.
Marinette smiled at him gently. “See you around.”
Notes:
Hi, I know that chapter might have been a bit boring, but I needed to include it for future chapters to make sense.
Also, I LOVE Marc and Luka. You will be seeing more of them soon, I can promise.
What did you guys think about Renée? I was on the fence about adding her for a long time, until I had a moment on inspiration and had to include her.
Next chapter will be more exciting, not sure how much though. Next chapter belongs to Marinette, then we should be checking in on Damian.
I do have a special treat coming up in a few chapters that I'm sure you'll love (or not ;) )One of the reasons I was gone so long was because I finally did what I had been avoiding for a long time: making a timeline.
I DID NOT REALIZE HOW MUCH I HAD PLANNED! AND I AM NOT DONE EITHER!!!!
But at least I know the character development won't feel forced anymore. So yay.
I promise it will be worth once I'm there.Thank you to all my very patient readers! Couldn't do this without you.
Please comment :)
Chapter 18: Police Politics
Notes:
Hi, so I tried to publish this, it didn't work. So hopefully it works this time.
I'm so fucking tired.Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Marinette had dealt with a lot since Ladybug became a thing.
Strange and painful allergies? Adapted to a new diet.
Even worse insomnia? Coffee was a life saver.
Up to 5 akumas a month? She fought every single one.
She continued on.
Ladybug arrived on scene to every akuma. Marinette did her best to keep her attendance up.
Ladybug stood bravely in every battle. Marinette walked more delicately with a tighter smile to hide the pain in her body.
Ladybug saw the horrible things in the world parents hoped to shield their child from for the rest of their lives. Marinette barely kept her screams in her throat as she woke up in the night.
She continued on.
One thing she had been avoiding about her new job was politics.
After the Copycat incident two months ago, public opinion of them skyrocketed. Chat Noir being framed for stealing the Mona Lisa was every reporter's dream. But the livestream of a first hand experience taking down an akuma had an unforeseen side effect.
Everyone loved Ladybug and Chat Noir.
It wasn’t too hard to piece together what happened, from the sculptor, to the museum, to breaking out Chat from the museum, to defeating the akuma. All the evidence of their actions were clear as day. Security camera footage showed Ladybug shoving her partner into a sarcophagus to hide him. The worker at the party store confirmed she had bought a Chat Noir costume, and said costume was found in the stadium by police officers just before the Cure swept it off. The live stream was self explanatory.
Ladybug and Chat Noir became Paris’s most beloved couple.
Her denial of the accusations, versus his charming grin and compliments towards her only made the public more in love with them.
Chat had once shouted to a reporter, ( stupidly might she add), “M’Lady likes playing hard to get. We’re partners, and we’re in this till the end.”
Videos and articles started popping up, highlighting all the times Chat had taken a hit for Ladybug, and all the times she had narrowly saved his life. Especially when she took literal bullets from when the police had hailed down on her.
Which brought on the other side of the issue.
While the superhero duo may be Europe’s sweethearts, the government scrambled to win the public's favor.
The video of the police raining bullets on Ladybug went viral within minutes of its posting. And leaked photos of Choé clearly making the heroes uncomfortable didn’t do any favors.
Then Lieutenant Roger Raincomprix got akumatized. And everything went to shit.
---
Marinette was walking to school when she found out.
Her science teacher was on her knees in front of a trash can, picking up pieces of garbage with her bare hands.
“Ms Mendeleiev!” Marinette rushed to her side.
Her teacher looked up at her, startled. “Miss Dupain-Cheng, you have to run. He’s here somewhere.”
Marinette eyed her wrists. One covered in a glowing red band, the other blue. “Who?”
“Officer Raincomprix. He’s an akuma. You have to go before he sees you. He’ll find some sort of fault in you and trap you like me.”
Marinette nodded reluctantly at her teacher, and ran.
---
It was a shit show.
It was meant to be a shit show from the start, and only got worse.
Without their superior, the police were left scrambling trying to contain scared citizens, and convince them they were not part of a mind controlled army. Which was harder to do than originally thought.
But considering the city’s previous history with akumas, not far-fetched. Ladybug could only thank her lucky stars that Hawkmoth hadn’t been able to give an akuma power to mind control more than ten people at a time. Yet.
After losing track of the akuma for the third time, (which was impressive on Robocop’s end,) Ladybug and Chat Noir landed on a rooftop across from several police cars. Officers were desperately trying to corral citizens into buildings and off the streets. With their own lieutenant being the akuma, the crowd had resorted to running away from people in uniforms or were on the offensive.
Ladybug spotted a large man swinging a tire iron at a small rookie. “Leave my family alone, you stupid akuma!”
“I’m just trying to help, sir!”
She turned to her partner. “Chat, this crowd is getting out of control. It might be worse elsewhere.”
He nodded. “We have to find Robocop.”
---
Chat Noir took to the West and South portion of the city while Ladybug went to the North and East.
Everywhere she turned, the city was in chaos. The victims of Robocop were running around, completing various tasks and screaming for help. She learned that not all of the punishments dealt out were physical.
Ladybug passed a park and laid eyes on a little girl who couldn’t be older than seven, tops. She was on the grass, knees pressed to her chest, and was holding her hands to her ears as tears streamed down her face.
She was screaming too: “Stop it! Stop! I didn’t do anything! It wasn’t my fault! Stop it! Leave me alone!”
Ladybug couldn’t just pass that without doing something. She swung down and started jogging over to her, and she could truly hear what was happening.
Voices, coming from seemingly nowhere, were berating the little girl.
“How many times have I told you to be more careful.”
“That was very rude.”
“You’re a bad girl.”
Ladybug felt some of the air leave her lungs, some of the words striking an unfamiliar cord in her. She persisted, and fell to her knees in front of the child.
“Hey, sweetie, I’m here.”
The girl looked up though watery eyes, surprised by the gentle voice, then by the sight of the hero. “You’re Ladybug.” She sounded mystified.
“Yeah, sweetie, I am. Can you tell me what’s going on right now?”
She sniffed. “I-I-I tripped and fell on another kid. It was an accident, I promise! But Robocop saw and decided I needed to be scolded.”
Ladybug frowned. “Where are your guardians?”
“My mom tried to defend me, and Robocop sent her away for ‘obstruction of justice’.” She sounded out the words carefully, tripping over some of the syllables. “I’m a bad girl.” She started sobbing again.
“Hey,” Ladybug wrapped her arms around her. “No, you’re not. It was an accident, and Robocop shouldn’t have done that to you. You’re not a bad girl.”
The girl sobbed into her chest, snot and tears going everywhere. “I-I-I want my mommy!”
The heroine's heart broke for her. “Shh, I got you. You’re going to be okay. What’s your name?”
A sniffle. “Mable. I-I want the voices to go away.”
The voices were indeed quite loud. And persistent.
“Don’t you dare do that again.”
“That was mean.”
“You were raised better than that.”
Ladybug stroked her hair. “Shhh, I promise the voices are wrong. I’m going to pick you up now, okay?”
Mable nodded her head against her chest, wrapping her arms around her neck like a koala.
She stood. “Shhh, I got you. I got you.”
She started walking through the park and closer to the shops. She needed somewhere she could keep the girl until this was all over.
Ladybug chose the nearest convenience store and walked inside.
At once 7 different pairs of eyes latched on to her. Civilians were scattered across the store, hiding behind the aisle and each other. The clerk was holding a tennis racket like a weapon, and sagged with relief at seeing it was not a threat.
“Oh, Ladybug! Thank god it’s you.”
She smiled politely. “Does your store have headphones?”
The man blinked dumbly, and a few minutes later, a set of purple headphones were placed delicately on Mable’s head. With the voices finally quieted to her ears, she began to calm down.
Ladybug’s eyes landed on a family in the corner, husband, wife, and two kids all huddled together protectively.
“I hate to ask this, but do you think you could watch her until her mom comes to find her?”
The couple looked at each other, and the woman nodded. “We’ll take care of her.”
She nodded gratefully, and began trying to detach herself from the girl.
“No, please don’t leave! You can protect us!”
She cupped her hands around Mable’s tear stained cheeks. “I have to go. There’s more people that need saving, and I need to be there to do it. Can you be a good girl for me and stay here, please.”
Mable’s lip wobbled, but she nodded. “Go save the city.”
Ladybug kissed the top of her head, and ran out of the store with a stronger resolve.
---
Robocop was a nuisance to find and keep track of, but once they got him in a contained space he went down relatively easy. It was the aftermath though, that really sucked.
After casting the cure and getting the hell out of there, she still had to attend an after hours study group that would briefly go over the topics she was supposed to learn that day. The rest was given as homework she was supposed to do in her spare time. Which led to her spending most of the night completing the work for school the next day.
Marinette could say that after fighting an akuma for 7 hours, attending study group, staying up until 5 am finishing a frankly illegal amount of homework, she was dead on her feet.
She did not know how she summoned the strength to get out of bed that morning, fill a thermos of boiling hot coffee, and rush to school moments before the bell.
At least she wasn’t the only one falling asleep at her desk. Half the class looked like zombies. Marinette was pretty sure Alix was drooling.
The worse for wear, by far, was Sabrina. Her usually put together appearance was slipping. She hadn’t used her hair straightener, leaving her red locks frizzy and misplaced, and her mismatched clothes a lot more wrinkled looking than usual. Marinette was pretty sure that she was wearing the same outfit as yesterday, so she probably slept in them.
Miss Bustier turned towards the class, far too awake and smiley. “Good morning, class! Oh dear, you all look tired. What happened?”
“Akuma.” Half the class chorused in unison.
Their teacher tilted her head to the side like a confused puppy. “But that was yesterday. You should all be well rested and ready to learn today.”
Marinette couldn’t help but think ‘what the fuck’. She heard a thud, and turned her head to see Alix with her head on her desk, who let out a groan that clearly carried the same meaning.
“We can’t let something as simple as an akuma get in the way of school. Eyes up here, class, especially you Sabrina. Just because your father was akumatized, does not mean you get to slack off.”
The poor girl seemed to shrivel in her seat at the words.
---
No one thought anything of it when Sabrina didn’t show up to school the next day. Her father, a police officer, was akumatized and the backlash from it was not insignificant. The news stations were all filled with incidents officers had in the past few days with civilians.
Being shunned on the street. Hate spat in their faces. Pure fear of the uniform that had mothers escorting their children to the other side of the street.
It should have been expected, but Marinette couldn’t help being surprised.
So no one thought anything of it when Sabrina did not show up to school. And no one said anything when she did not make an appearance the following day either.
Except for Chlo é, who threw a hissy fit in the morning when her redheaded friend didn’t make an appearance.
“I’m telling you Miss Bustier! Something is wrong with Sabrina! She’s not answering my texts or calls, and she always does! Something is wrong!”
Their teacher smiled patiently, “Chloé, I’m sure Miss Raincomprix is simply taking some time off after the ordeal her father put us through.”
Chloé stomped her foot angrily, “ Urghhhhh! Sabrina hasn’t contacted me in over 36 hours! That’s long enough to file a missing persons report. We need to do something!”
“Dear, you’re the mayor’s daughter, and she’s the daughter of a cop. I’m sure if it was important, your father would have taken care of it by now, and hers would have reported her missing.”
“No, the mayor and government officials have been overloaded since the beginning of Robocop. My father is in meetings all day, and doesn’t have time to listen, and Sabrina’s father would be sleeping in the precinct with all the paperwork he has to file. Sabrina told me she had only seen him once since he was de-akumatized, and I doubt she’s seen him since. Sabrina might be upset, but she never ignores me, let alone for this long!”
“Miss Bourgeois, it’s class time now, so please take a seat.”
“ Are you even listening to me!”
“Of course I am, but you’re simply overreacting. Sabrina will be back in class any day now, and it will all go back to normal.”
“ Normal! My best friend’s dad got akumatized, civilians are terrified of the people trying to protect this city, and Paris is being terrorized by a giant butterfly man wearing a condom on his head! We’re never going back to normal!”
“MISS BOURGEOIS! Don’t you dare speak to me like that! It is class time now, and you are disrupting the learning environment for your fellow students! Sit down now!”
Chloé made a disgusted face, before shouldering her bag and raising her chin. “Fine. If you won’t do anything about Sabrina, then I will.” With that, she turned on her heel and marched right out the door.
Marinette watched her go, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach.
---
After school, Marinette walked to a fabric store, something she hadn’t been able to do for months. Between school, the bakery, and saving Paris she had missed her favorite hobby. Even her hands felt strange without the calluses she used to always have from pricking her fingers too many times on sewing needles.
But Marientte never made it home, because Tikki pressed against her side from her purse, trying to get her attention.
Quickly darting into a public bathroom stall, Mairnette opened her purse for her kwami to fly out of.
“What is it, Tikki?”
The kwami flew in front of her, her left eye twitching. “Chat Noir is trying to message you. You need to transform.”
“Fine then. Spots on.”
The moment her transformation came into effect, Ladybug could feel her yoyo vibrating against her thigh. She smoothly flicked it open and pressed accept call.
Chat Noir’s face filled her screen. “M’lady! Thank god I could get a hold of you. There’s an akuma on the loose.”
“Where?” She could feel her brain kicking into battle mode. “I haven’t heard anything about it. How long have they been out?”
Chat Noir winced. “Welllllllll…. You see, that’s kinda the thing…”
“Chat, if there’s an akuma on the loose we don’t have time for this.”
“She’s been out for two days.”
“What?”
“Annnnnd, I have no idea where she is.”
Ladybug took a calming breath. “What are her powers, and what does she look like? I’ll call the police and issue a statement to the media. We should get her description out there, and have people be on the lookout for an akuma.”
“Wellllllll...”
She glared at the screen. “I’m not going to like what you’re about to say either, am I?”
He shook his head, shaggy hair flying wild. “She doesn’t really look like anything. Her powers are invisibility. Sooo….”
“So we’re fucked.”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“How the hell did you find this out?”
He turned his eyes away from the camera, looking at someone or avoiding eye contact. Or both. “I know how this is going to sound…”
“How could this get worse?”
“I found this out from Chloé Bourgeois.”
Silence.
Then, “I’m sorry, but why the fuck are you talking with Chloé Bourgeois of all people?”
“We ran into each other.”
“You ran into each other? While in the suit? Why the fuck were you in the suit? Unless…, you mangy motherfucking feline, she better not know your identity or I swear to god...”
His eyes snapped to hers through the screen, his eyes wide with panic. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. I promise, she doesn’t know who I am. I swear.”
“ Then how the fuck did you ‘run into each other’?”
“We just did! Okay! But she’s telling the truth. Chloé’s been looking for her friend Sabrina Raincomprix after she didn’t turn up to school for a few days. She’s gathered videos of an invisible being protecting the police.”
“And she’s sure it’s an akuma. For all we know, it could just be a reckless metahuman.”
A pause. “There’s a video of the invisible person beating a man up. Enough that he was put into the ER. Now, I know that you could still think it’s just the run of the mill crazy metahuman but…”
“But the possible metahuman would still be dangerous, and there’s no harm in investigating a bit.”
Chat Noir beamed at her. “Exactly, M’lady.”
Ladybug nodded. “Send me your location. I’ll meet you there.”
“Sure thing, bugaboo.”
“Shut up, pussycat.”
She reached for the door, and accidentally brushed the toilet behind her the wrong way. A flush emitted through the empty room.
“LB, are you calling me from the girls bathroom?”
Ladybug glared at him. “It was the closest place I could find.”
He cackled, his ears turning back. “You called me from the bathroom. And called me a ‘mangy motherfucking feline’ while standing over a toilet.”
“Oh fuck off, or I’ll call you a lot worse than that. See you in a few minutes.”
---
Ladybug never liked Chloé.
Granted, the hero side of her was already biased thanks to how she gets treated in her civilian life, which she thought was a fair reason to be biased.
Still, she may not like Chloé, but that didn’t mean she liked seeing her in as close to a panicked state as she'd ever seen her before.
“Explain why you’re sure Sabrina has been akumatized, again.”
Chloé paced the length of her room again, tearing at her carefully curled hair. “I already told you, Sabrina isn’t like this. She doesn’t skip school. She never misses homework. And she always, always, answers my messages. The longest we’ve gone without contact was 12 hours, and that was because we were asleep. I’ve been calling and texting nonstop for two days. I haven’t heard a peep.”
Ladybug nodded, perched delicately on the armrest of the couch. “And you’re certain she’s not just laying low for a bit.”
“I’m positive! She’d tell me. And no one has heard from her since either.”
“What about her father?”
“He’s busy with my dad all the time. City council stuff, and public image. I asked him though, and he said he’s just been too busy to call her. But no one is looking into this, because apparently public fucking image is more important than my friend!”
Ladybug had never seen Chloé this worked up in all her years of knowing her. Perfectly styled hair out of place. Makeup smudged. And, what she’s sure the blonde would have deemed most horrible of all if she were in a state of mind to care, large eye bags showing and red rimed eyes.
Marinette had learned one thing about Chloé the first time she met her, and yanked on her ponytail after being called an ‘attention seeking orphan’, and it was that Chloé Bourgeois never cried.
She may be a bitch, but she never cried. Not even fake tears to get her daddy to do her bidding faster, or when a boy a year above them filled her locker with cockroaches. She was stubborn, and dug her heels in to get what she wanted, but never cried to make it happen. She never stooped to that level.
It was one thing Marinette could respect about her.
And now, Ladybug was also finding respect in how Chloé could in fact cry, but only for her friend, and did not let that influence her.
Before she arrived, she could tell that the blonde whipped her tears away, blew her nose, and pretended to be just as stone cold as always.
“How about we all take a breather.” Chat Noir jumped in, looking anxiously at a barely held together blonde and his exasperating partner.
“How can you still not believe me when I’ve shown you that video?”
Ladybug glanced at the laptop propped on the coffee table. To say that the video wasn't at least a little disturbing…
“We’ve never interacted with an akuma that’s gone unnoticed for so long. Hawkmoth tends to be pretty loud. We need to look at all possibilities, including that this may just be a reckless metahuman.”
“Then go get that reckless metahuman! Because the cops sure as shit aren't!”
“M’lady,” Chat broke in again, giving her a look that pleaded for her support. “This person needs to be stopped, regardless of whether they are an akuma or not. The police are busy enough as it is. We’re the only people looking into this at all. I don’t see us having much of a choice.”
‘I wish we had a choice,’ Ladybug thought, ‘and if you’re wrong about this being an akuma, everyone is going to expect us to clean up after everything. And we don't have time for that . But that’s selfish, and we don’t have time for selfishness either.’
“I hope you two know how to track someone invisible, because I’ve got dinner plans, so let’s wrap this up quickly.”
---
Ladybug didn’t like the plan. But it was still the best they had.
The plan was to listen to the police scanner and follow where all the most likely targets were. It felt like finding a needle in a haystack. A very large haystack. But luckily, with her sewing hobby, she was damn good at finding lost needles.
Ladybug never wanted to experience this again. After dozens of calls for everything from parking tickets to domestic violence, she was ready to go home. And the complete joy on the victims faces when their city’s heroes arrived made something twist in her gut.
Expectation.
After today, there was a very real possibility this would become expected. Ladybug did like helping people, and a couple cases here and there spread out over a long, long, period of time was no biggie, but if it was expected of them to start performing like police officers, that wouldn’t end well. They simply didn’t have the time.
On a simple robbery call, it happened. The store clerk hadn't expected the police to show up, since it was just some kid shoplifting a bag of chips. A customer had called the police, while the clerk just told the kid to put it back on the shelf and he’d look the other way.
By the time the police showed up, the teen was long gone and so was the caller.
The clerk, however, was furious.
“You can take you fucking badges and lies the hell out of here!”
“Sir, we’re only trying to help.” The far too young rookie tried to placate, but was having no success.
“Get your ass out of my store!”
Chat shifted on his feet, getting ready to jump down from the roof. “I don’t think this is going to end well.”
The two officers were trying to get the clerk to calm down, while he was only getting more fired up.
“All you cops are LIARS! You say you’ll protect us, but you haven't done a damn thing! Where are you when Hawkmoth is trying to blow up half the city! Or when your own fucking boss INSLAVES US!” The clerk reached under the countertop, “I’m done with you people! Now get the hell out!” he lifted his hand up, and a shiny metal baseball bat with it.
“Oh fuck.” Ladybug muttered to herself, jumping off the roof, closely followed by Chat.
They don’t make it inside the store in time. But someone else does.
The clerk took a mighty swing, and a loud clang echoed in the air. The bat stopped mid air, with a dented handprint gripping the top.
The clerk’s eyes widened, and fear filled his eyes. “Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no.”
A familiar female voice said, “Oh, and what were you about to do with this silly little thing?”
Ladybug and Chat Noir burst through the doors. “Everyone out! Get out!”
The single customer and the two officers hightail it out of the store. The bat was yanked out of her clerks grip, and he backed away, quivering. The bat floated in mid air, before adjusting, settling into a grip, and making a light smacking sound against an open palm as it moved up and down.
“Sabrina,” Chat Noir started, “you don’t need to hurt him.”
The akuma gave a maniacal laugh. “I’m not Sabrina anymore. Little redhead innocent Sabrina didn’t have the balls to do what I’m about to do. I’m Vanisher, and I punish the people who turn on the people who are protecting them!”
The bat swung forward at the same time Ladybug unleashed her yoyo, wrapping it around the end and pulling. It slipped out of the Vanishers grip and clattered to the floor. Chat Noir surged forward, planting a kick to the akuma's middle. It sent her falling backwards into the shelves, creating a domino effect. Chat rushed forward again, and was met only with air. A moment later, the door gave a little jingle as the Vanisher disappeared.
Ladybug sighed. “Well, I guess Chloé was telling the truth.”
Her partner grimaced. “I kinda wish she lied.”
---
Ladybug had developed a newer understanding of the media.
- Gossip columns always developed from a smidgen of truth. Sure, they were usually false, but the best lies always had some truth to them.
- A reporter would do anything for the front page. Publish wrongful theories and rumors? To be expected. Trespassing? Most likely. Harassment? Comes in the job description.
- They were vultures. Hound dogs. They could smell blood in the water better than sharks. No matter how hard you try to hide something, if the media wants it, the media will get it.
So really, it shouldn’t have been a surprise when reporters started patrolling the streets looking for the heroes of Paris. Someone was going to notice the odd pattern of helpful behavior today. Which would lead them to discovering what happened in the convenience store. With Nadia Chamack on the 11 o’clock news, everyone and their mother knew an akuma was on the loose.
But did the threat of an akuma stop a journalist on the hunt. No it did not. Because, as Ladybug had learned from too many crashing helicopters, and Marinette from her friendship with Alya, reporters had zero self preservation.
The only thing to chase the reporters back inside was the combination of the late hour and the rain. She wished she could be like them. The weather and time were making her irritable.
The duo had split up shortly before the rain started coming down, deciding to cover more ground. Her newest discovery that her yoyo could produce little earphones was helpful, even at the expense of Chat chirping irrelevant things in her ear.
“Which orange came first? The fruit or the colour?”
“I have no fucking idea.” Ladybug responded, leaping to the next roof.
“If animals could talk, which would be the rudest of all?”
“Pigeon. Those things are kind of terrifying, ‘cause they legitimately don't give a shit about anyone or anything”
“What colour is a mirror?”
“Fuck you”
Chat laughed.
“My turn, Kitty. If a Smurf starts choking, what colour would it turn?”
“That’s a terrifying thought. Why would you ask me that? Now I have to strangle a Smurf for science.”
“For science?”
“For science.”
Ladybug couldn’t help the grin that worked itself onto her face.
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Chat startled, “I think I’ve found her!”
Ladybug flipped her yoyo open, reading Chat’s location. “Got it. I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”
---
Thank god the Ladybug suit never had to be cleaned. Marinette didn’t think she would ever be able to get all that glitter out of it. Never mind her hair.
Marinette had never considered skipping school so much as she did in the morning. Turns out, the Vanisher did not sleep. At all. For nearly two days straight. Which meant she thought it would be a great idea to evade them until 4 in the morning, and was only caught because of a massive glitter cannon lucky charm. The entire park ended up looking like a disco ball.
Though Marintte did drag herself to school in the morning, she had given up on being on time. Tikki had pitied her and turned off her first five alarm clocks, giving her an extra half hour of sleep. Marinette then had the added stress of sneaking out the backdoor without her parents seeing. Not like she had noticed her missing yesterday.
She had to wait until her first class was over and it was break time to enter the bakery through the front door and acquire an extra large thermos of only espresso shots and an entire box of chocolate croissants. She hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast the previous day. She should probably start becoming concerned over the fact that she was running off of nothing but chocolate croissants, adrenaline and spite for almost every akuma battle.
To top the whole thing off, Tikki was exhausted. Which, for a kwami that ate a full meal and got over three hours of their required sleep, was a very bad thing. Like the kind of bad that could cost them if an akuma were to attack.
So of course everything had to turn into a shit show again.
They were in the locker room, and Sabrina burst into tears. Marinette looked over from her conversation she had been having with Alya.
Sabrina’s locker was wide open, dozens and dozens of notes spilling out onto the floor. The redhead was clutching a couple of her textbooks in one hand, the pages torn out inked over. In the other, she gripped a handful of notes that even from a distance Marinette could make out words like ‘akuma’, ‘bitch’, and ‘dad’.
Sabrina was sobbing, glasses fogging up, snot running, ugly cry kind of sobbing. Chloé on the other hand, looked absolutely murderous.
She snatched the notes from the redhead's hand, waving them in the air aggressively. “WHO DID THIS!” The locker room of about a dozen girls went deathly silent. “WHICHEVER ONE OF YOU BITCHES DID THIS IS GOING TO PAY!”
“C-C-Chloé,” Sabrina grabbed at her arm weakly, hiccupping. “It’s okay.”
“ Okay? This is not okay, Sabrina. No one, and I mean no one is allowed to bully you. I’m going to go get the security tapes from Damocles, then I will personally crush whoever had the fucking stupidity to do this to you!”
Chloé marched out of the room, on a warpath. Sabrina followed, giving vain protests that fell on deaf ears.
Marinette thought “ Damn, maybe she’s got a heart after all’ .
---
Maybe if she wasn’t so tired, and because Hawkmoth had never done two akumas in two days before, she would have seen it coming.
But, as it was, she hadn't.
Tikki wasn’t looking so good either. “I’m fine, Marinette. You have to transform.”
Marinette grimaced, “Tikki, you’re freezing and sweating. I didn’t even know kwamis could sweat. I’m not sure you’re strong enough.”
Tikki looked at her, barely having enough energy to keep herself floating. “The akuma is out there right now. And Chloé is bad enough, do you want to imagine what her akumatized version would be like. You have to transform.”
“But Tikki, you’re sick!”
“You don’t have a choice. You have to save everyone.”
Marinette felt the familiar feeling of panic and stress rising in her throat. She pushed it down.
“Tikki, spots on.”
---
Antibug was a pain in the fucking ass.
It’s bad enough having an akuma, based on you, but even worse to actually fight it. Or try to at least. Antibug wanted to be like Ladybug, but instead of defeating akumas, she defeated the people who had bullied Sabrina. Defeated being a very loose term.
Hunted and pulverized was better.
There were several concrete things about Ladybug that were copied in her akuma counterpart that made it so hard to catch her:
- She had a yoyo.
- She was fast.
But worst of all.
- She was strategic.
So when after finding the brutalized dead body of one of Sabrina’s tormenters in an alley, Ladybug knew they were fucked.
Chat Noir landed beside her, looking nauseous staring at Greta Levin’s body. She’d seen her in the cafeteria only a few hours ago. Greta had always been a bit of a bitch, but she didn’t deserve to have her head bashed in by an angry teen.
“Oh god.” Chat gasped, turning around and staggering farther into the alley before throwing up.
Ladybug tore her eyes away from the bloody scene, taking a moment to rub Chat’s back comfortingly.
“How can you do it?” Chat wheezed, clutching his stomach.
She furrowed her eyebrows. “Do what?”
He gestured vaguely to the body. “How can you not feel sick to your stomach seeing that? She was a person. God, I’ve seen her at the Dupain-Cheng bakery. She was alive. How-...How can you get through it?”
Ladybug patted his back again. “I don’t have a choice. But you sure as hell help keep me sane.” She smiled weekly.
Oh.
Antibug did not have a Chat Noir.
And that might be the one thing she’d want more than revenge.
---
Her lucky charm was a rose.
---
After another several hours chasing Antibug, they had managed to track her to a rooftop. The rest was up to Chat.
Ladybug sat silently in the building across the street, watching it all unfold the best she could.
Chat landed on the rooftop. He kept his arms behind his back.
“Hello, M’lady.” His voice crackled into her ear from the com.
Ladybug felt a strange swoop in her gut. She didn’t like him calling anyone else that name.
Antibug whirled around, a gleaming crimson blade clutched in her hand. “Chat Noir. Where’s your little girlfriend?”
He gave a wicked smirk, one that wasn’t quite the same as the ones he gave his partner. “Not here. And she’s not my girlfriend.”
Antibug scoffed. “Please, you’re all over her with your romantic gestures. You’re literally every girl's perfect boyfriend. Strong, caring, funny, handsome, kind, attentive. She’d be a fool not to be in love with you.”
“I think I was the fool.”
“Huh?”
Chat took a careful step forward. “She never wanted me. She probably knew she wasn’t good enough. But you? You’re so much more than I ever could have imagined."
Antibug’s cheeks grew pink. “Me?”
Chat’s lips turned up. Not a smile, those were saved especially for Ladybug. “Of course you. From the moment I saw you I knew you were beautiful. You’re strong, and can take care of herself. Those are attractive qualities in a woman.”
Antibug looked like she was swooning. “You’re just talk.”
Chat took the brave last few steps forward, only a foot of space between them.
Ladybug’s eyes caught on the knife, praying the akuma would be too distracted to think clearly.
Chat Noir pulled a hand from behind his back, a red rose held delicately in his claw. “I brought you a gift.”
Antibug was grinning, lovestruck. Then she blinked. “It’s spotted.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What?”
Chat pulled his other hand out from behind his back and touched his cataclysm to her earring. A black butterfly flew out.
Ladybug swung across the buildings to stand at the edge of the rooftop. She swung her yoyo, capturing the akuma and releasing a white little butterfly.
“What the hell happened!” Chlo é screeched, very much a civilian again.
Ladybug held back a wince. “You were akumatized, Miss Bourgeois. I’d take you home, but I’m afraid I must be going.” She tapped own earring, blinking a dangerous two dots.
Ladybug turned, and launched her yoyo across the street.
“M’lady, wait.”
She glanced over her shoulder.
Chat smiled. His real smile, the one he saved just for her. “Just making sure you know none of what I said about you was true. I think you’re a baddass. You don’t even compare to her.”
Ladybug rolled her eyes. “Always the flirt, Kitty.”
She swung off, a slight smile on her face.
---
“Oh my god, Tikki!”
Marinette barely managed to catch the kwami in her cupped hands before she fell to the ground. Tikki’s colouring was off. Her bright red skin was more a dark crimson, and her black spots were greyish.
“Tikki!”
Tikki opened her drooping eyes slowly. “Marinette, I don’t feel so good.”
“Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.” Marinette kept glancing around the alley, aware that they were staying longer than was safe. “Oh fuck! Tikki, I don’t know what to do. It’s the middle of the fucking night, I’m miles from home, my phones dead, and I don’t know how to make you feel better.” She felt a cold drop of water fall on her hand. “And it’s fucking raining!”
“Marinette, calm down. I need you to take me to a healer.”
She felt her eyes widen. “A healer! Tikki, you’re a magical talking bug. What fucking healer am I supposed to go to!”
“A good one.”
---
Marinette felt only relief at seeing the windows of the masseuse parlor lit up. It was way past midnight by then, and all the other people she crossed paths with were either drunk or creeps her 13 year old legs had to run away from.
Marinette hurried up the steps of the building, knocking quickly. The rain was pelting across her and all she had was a measly little sweater. She bounced on her feet anxiously when no one answered. She stepped back, looking up at the glowing windows. Someone was home. She could see their shadow moving around.
Marinette gave a small prayer that she wouldn’t be arrested, and opened the door. It swung open smoothly, the scent of Chinese tea leaves surrounded her the moment she stepped inside.
She shut the door behind her and followed the lights up the only set of stairs in front of her. Tikki was pressed tightly to her chest, cold and shivering. She didn’t have time to waste worrying about just entering some random building who could house any sort of dangerous person.
Tikki had vouched for the healer. Though Marinette had no idea how they ever could have met, she had to trust her kwami.
The stairs lead to the top floor, and the light appeared to be coming though some sort of bamboo door.
“Hello?” Marinette called hesitantly, before pushing the door to the side.
An old man wearing an ugly Hawaiian shirt sat in the middle of the massage parlor, cross-legged. He opened his eyes and smiled.
“Hello, Ladybug.”
Notes:
Fu's here!!!!!
Plot is staring to pick up. we still have a long ways to go, but we're getting there.
Poor Sabrina. She doesn't get much, if any screen time in fanfics so I hope to justify that, because her life would actually be so stressful with her dad as a cop up against akumas and politics. She's going to have some screen time in this fic, but I'm still waying my options on where to take her so let me know if there's anything you really want to see.
What did you think of Chloe? I have her redemption arc planned out, but I need to make sure it isn't forced, so what do you think?
And did you catch how similar the twins are compared to chapter 13? What do you think?
Next chapter belongs to Damian. Not a lot of plot for him but somethings going to happen soon, I promise. (hehehehe)Thanks for staying around, my lovely sad readers. I'll update as soo as I can, but life has really been kicking my ass right now so we'll see.
Please comment :)
Chapter 19: Birthdays and Friends
Notes:
Hi, it surprisingly only took two weeks for this update. I think I'm starting to get the hang of it again, but I don't want to jinx myself.
This chapter is Damian's.Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Damian had always stood in the background of the superhero community. While he and his family may have been the natural leaders, he was always the outcast of the social side.
Dick had flourished from the moment he had met other heroes. He quickly became one of the most liked, and was seen as a big brother or son amongst the community.
Jason did not have the same experience, but was pulled into the fold by Roy and Starfire after his return from the dead.
Tim was no Nightwing, but he still managed to have a vast array of friends and allies.
Even Cass, Stephanie, and Barbra had the Birds of Prey to keep their roots firmly planted in the community.
Duke, the newest of them all, managed to make friends with every hero and vigilante he encountered.
Damian hated to admit it, but he was envious of them.
After nearly three years, Damian’s only friend remained as Jon. And Jon only stuck around because, as his sister would say ‘he’s a stubborn son of a bitch and you love him for it.”
And it wasn’t just on the super side of social interactions. He didn’t have any friends in school either.
Gotham Academy was built for rich, white people with no manners. Damian only fit into one of those categories.
(“Maybe the no manners one as well.”
“Shut up, Marinette.”)
Until, of course, the previous winner of the Wayne Scholarship graduated and another had to be chosen.
Tim had taken control of the whole program as his pet project. Which of course meant Damian had to be there when they were finally meeting the newest student. Especially since he was his age.
“You have to be nice, Damian.” Tim reminded, straightening his tie.
Damian tsked, “I’m always nice.”
Tim sent him a deadpan look.
“It’s not my fault if people can’t handle the truth.”
“Just try not to scare him away either, Damian. He’s been through enough.”
---
Colin Wilkes.
Redhead. Covered in freckles. Short for his age. His wide, innocent eyes danced between shades of blues and greens.
‘He won’t last 10 minutes in Gotham academy.’ Damian thought.
“Since the orphanage matron signed the forms, you’re clear to start school in the fall.” Tim started wrapping up the meeting. Damian raised an eyebrow. Orphan. Really? “Until then, you are more than welcome to attend any school related functions to get to know your future classmates better. And my youngest brother here would be happy to show you around campus.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. He’s more than happy. Look, he’s almost smiling.”
Damian glared at his brother.
Colin gave him a shy smile. ‘God, he doesn’t stand a chance.’ and clearly, by Tim’s look, he knew it too.
Damian stood. “Follow me.” He walked out of the office without looking behind him.
He heard a scuttle as Colin quickly caught up. Damian didn’t slow his pace, and Colin had to jog slightly to keep up.
Damian pointed out classrooms along the blue and white hallway. He didn’t bother with small talk. He found it irritating and useless.
“Do you not like me? Or are you generally an asshole?”
It caught him so off guard, he paused walking. “Pardon me?”
“Did I do something to personally offend you? Is this a rich kid thing, or a general asshole-ishness?”
“I have no interest in how much money you do or do not have.”
“Okay, so not a rich kid thing. So what is it?”
Damian considered his words. “I don’t enjoy making small talk, or sugarcoating my opinions.”
“Good, I like an honest person.”
Damian nodded at him and kept walking.
“So, does the cafeteria here have anything good? Because the stuff they served over at Diamond Public was complete slop. Probably in violation to at least a dozen health codes.”
Damian almost felt a twitch at the side of his mouth. Maybe Wilkes wouldn’t be too bad after all.
---
“I take it back. Wilkes is insufferable.” Damian paced angrily.
Marinette had taken a liking to shooting her hairband at the ceiling from his bed. “What you mean to say, is that he isn’t a pushover.”
“No. I mean exactly what I said.”
“You’re just mad that he called you an ‘arrogant jackass with too much hair product’ at that stupid football game."
“I am not arrogant!”
“Oh really.”
Damian pulled his sweater over his head and threw it in the general direction of the hamper. “Yes, really. Nor am I a ‘jackass’.”
“He’s definitely right about hair products though.”
“All the Wayne sons styled their hair this way at my age.” He protested, pulling off his khakis as well.
“Other than Jason. He came to his senses.”
He popped his head through a clean shirt. “ He came to his senses!”
“Oh my god, Damian! Don’t read too much into it.”
“Read too much into it?” Damian rifled through the papers on his desk. He threw a tissue box behind him in his search for his math homework. “I have been verbally assaulted by an inferior child!”
“By a redhead who’s shorter than you. You’re just bent out of shape because you couldn’t think of a good comeback.”
“Do you really think I couldn't think of a worthy insult to that stupid, moody, narrow-minded asshole.” Damian turned to face her.
Marinette moved off the bed and stood in front of Damian. She measured up only to his shoulder now, with his recent growth spurt. He felt a pang of sadness in his chest before it was quickly squashed by her next remark.
“I think you were too busy staring into his gorgeous aquamarine eyes to think straight.”
Damian took a step back, aghast. “How dare you!”
“You’re right, perhaps straight isn’t a word meant to be used at all for this.”
“Mari-”
“Damian? ‘You okay in there?”
Dick knocked at the door. Damian clenched his fists. Marinette fell backward into the bed, once again shooting her hairband at the ceiling.
“I’m fine, Richard.”
“I thought I heard something.”
Damian marched over to his door, swinging it open. “I’m fine, Richard. You can go back to whatever it was you were going before now.”
Dick blinked. “Uhhhhh…. Are you sure? You’re looking pretty flushed.” He pressed a hand to his forehead.
Damian batted his hand away. “It’s all fine. You can leave.”
“Are you- oh.” Dick’s eyes darted between his very flushed face, the box of tissues that had landed on the bed, and him only wearing a shirt and boxers. “Did Bruce give you the birds and the bees talk?”
“What! What does that have to do with anything?”
“Dami, it’s totally normal to want to make yourself feel good, but-”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Just that you can always come to me with any questions or-”
“Grayson, feel free to take this in the wrong way, but are you feeling okay?”
“What? Damian-”
“Then we are done here.” He shut the door in his brother's face. He turned around to see Marinette on the bed, howling with laughter. “What the hell is so funny?”
“Oh my god.” She wheezed. “You’re so clueless.”
“Clueless? What-” His eyes fell on the tissues beside her, then his lack of pants. “ Ewww. You’re all so dirt minded!”
Marinette just kept laughing.
---
“Soooo, I heard from big birdie-”
“Todd, so help me god, if you finish that sentence the Riddler won’t be the one dodging my sword tonight.”
---
Damian met Mia Mizoguchi in a chaotic explosion of glitter, balloons, and silly string.
He had just been minding his own business, keeping out of trouble, when out of nowhere a short Asian girl turned a corner and barreled into him. Even with his Robin training, he barely stood a chance against the human wrecking ball covered from head to toe in fine, multicoloured glitter.
Though he couldn’t save himself from falling, he did manage to roll onto his side instead of straight on his back.
“Oh my god. Oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” Mizoguchi stood up quickly, offering a hand to Damian to help him up. “I’m so sorry, dude.”
He ignored the offered hand and stood on his own. He looked at his blazer. Damnit, he knew from experience that glitter was a parasite that did not like letting go. It might be less of a hassle burning the blazer instead of washing it the required hundred times.
There was a clatter and a shout from the halfway she had just run from. He glanced behind her quickly.
“Please, please, please tell him I was never here.”
Mizoguchi darted behind Damian into a storage closet. A second later, vice principal Tracy, covered in silly string, glitter and shining like a disco ball charged into the hallway. The balding man took one look at Damian's newly shiny blazer and barked, “Where is she!”
The secretary came running in behind him, shuffling on her pointy heels, and clutching a bouquet of balloons. The largest one read an obnoxious ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’.
Damian felt a lump in his throat but quickly swallowed it down. God, the date was getting closer.
Tracy barked again, “Well, Wayne. Which way did she go?”
Damian wayed his options. On one hand, he didn’t particularly like chaos and pranks in his school. He found them juvenile and stupid. He could easily tell the vice principal that the culprit of such action was standing only a couple feet away, hidden by a door. He had no loyalty to Mizoguchi, they shared a biology and history class together, but that was it. Especially when he had just been plowed over like a bowling pin.
On the other hand, Damian really hated Tracy. He was a racist, homophobic, arrogant prick who had made it his mission to make his brothers stays at Gotham academy miserable. Damian knew he looked the other way when Dick was getting shoved into lockers. But never turned a blind eye when Jason kicked some dude in the shin but ignored that it was because he was called ‘alley trash’. Or when Tim gave Bernard a quick kiss on the cheek before class, and he called Bruce to report his son was participating in activities against God. (Bruce had only said that they were Jewish before hanging up.) Just last week, Tracy had referred to Duke as ‘their kind’ when the topic of slavery came up.
There was only one clear answer.
“She went that way, sir."
Tracy and the secretary disappeared down a different hallway.
Mizoguchi popped her head out from the closet. “Is the coast clear?”
“He’s gone.”
“Great.” She walked out and held her hand out to Damian. “Thanks for that. I owe you one. You can call me Maps.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Maps? Your name is Mia.”
She smiled. “Yeah, but I’m like, really good at cartography so everyone just calls me Maps.”
He shook her hand. “You can call me Damian.”
---
Raven floated into his life much more calmly and subdued. There wasn’t much fanfare, and the only reason they met at all was because Nightwing had taken the young demon under his wing.
Or, at least, Robin was pretty sure she was a demon. He didn’t really want to ask.
What he did know, however, was that she was insanely overpowered. He had only seen a glimpse of her file on the batcomputer before Tim flicked and filed it away, but there had been at least a dozen bullet points in view, and he had the seeking suspicion that if Tim had scrolled down, there’d be much more.
But, upon observation, Robin had observed that during JL and co. party, she was floating. And more than once had floated through solid stainless steel walls to reach whatever destination she had in mind faster.
So Damian knew she had magic.
And the Bats had a rule. Don’t fuck around with magic.
He had no idea why Nightwing would think it was a good idea to frolic around different dimensions with a magical demon. But he kept his thoughts to himself. Or, at least, tried too.
“I can hear you thinking from the other side of the building.”
Robin just had enough self control to suppress a jump. He turned, and came face to face with the purple haired girl. “Pychic or empathy?”
“Both.” She sipped her punch. She let her feet land soundlessly on the ground. “I can suppress the psychic side. You’re wondering why I’m here.”
“Of course.”
“Well, sorry to disappoint, but I have no idea either.”
Damian felt a sort of kinship with her. Some days, he wondered why his family hadn’t cut their losses and kicked him to the curb. Or sent him back to Talia.
He knew that the only reason he got the chance to truly stay was because of Dick. Without him, Bruce would have grown tired of him, Jason would try to actually murder him, and Tim might have him sent off to a boarding school. Dick had saved him, he saw something in Damian that he had labeled as something worth saving.
Robin wondered if he felt the same towards Raven.
“I have a suspicion that Nightwing will want to partner us up often in the future.”
Raven nodded. “In that case, my name is Rachel Roth. You don’t have to give me yours, I already know it.”
Robin definitely wanted to be on this girl's good side.
---
After the disastrous 11th birthday incident, Dick had waited a couple days before sitting Damian down. He had said that he recognized it was a trigger for him, that he was always there for him if he ever wanted to talk about it, but had no obligation to do so. Dick had then asked how he would like the next birthday to go.
Damian had said he didn’t want anything to change. No presents. No parties. No planning around him so the family would all be free for whatever birthday surprise they could cook up. He requested everyone act like it was a normal day, and to be (mostly) left alone.
Dick had said he could change his mind about it at any time, but his decision would be respected.
He felt a massive relief.
His 12th and 13th were by far better experiences than before. The day was mostly spent huddled up under a mountain of blankets in his room and binge watching the Big Bang Theory.
So when Damian felt off in the days leading up to his 14th birthday, no one mentioned it. Mostly.
Duke, having been new to the family, didn’t know the rule, since it seemed that everyone had forgotten to tell him.
Damian had been playing with Titus, Stephanie had been running around the pool away from a bee, Cass was watching, and Jason was polishing his gun.
Just a normal, calm day at the manor.
Then Duke had come outside, completely oblivious, and said, “I don’t know what you guys normally do, so what's the plan for Thursd-”
Splash!
Jason had football tackled Duke right into the pool before he could finish his sentence.
Steph was howling with laughter. Cass’s shoulders were shaking as she covered her mouth.
Even Damian, after feeling that familiar sickening feeling in his stomach at what he knew the question was, couldn’t help but laugh. He felt lighter, even if the reminder of his birthday was now playing even louder in the back of his head.
Duke came back to the surface, spluttering, “Hey! What the hell was that for?”
Jason, already pulling himself out of the pool coughed out, “Lets go talk inside.”
“Dude!” Duke swam to the edge of the pool, clearly angry. “What the fuck?”
Jason grabbed his arm and hauled him out, both of them dripping. “Inside. Alfred will make you some cookies if you shut up for a bit longer.”
“What-”
“Master Jason and Master Duke, do hurry up and grab these towels before you even think of setting foot in the manor.” Alfred called from the open doorway to the kitchen, holding two pristine fluffy towels.
Duke, being the smart boy that he is, shut up and wrapped himself in a towel before waddling into the manor. Alfred gave Jason a nod as he did so as well, the ghost of an amused smile on his face.
Damian was grateful for the feeling of someone having his back.
---
On the day of his birthday, Damian didn’t get out of bed until 11am, which was a big change from his usual 6am morning. When he finally did manage to drag himself out of bed, he took a long piercing hot shower that left his skin red and feeling raw.
Avoiding mirrors leading up to and on the date were one of the worst parts. Every time he saw his reflection, he’d see the similarities between himself and his sister. The black hair, high cheekbones, and years ago he could see her in the shape of his eyes. But every day, it got just a little bit harder to see the similarities. Damian was a near carbon copy of their father, and he wondered how many similarities Marinette would share with Bruce.
Surely they would have hit it off. Bruce would admire Marinette’s commitment to never take a life. And Marinette would be ecstatic to run across the Gotham skyline with them as Batgirl.
Damian could picture it. She’d be watching stupid Disney movies with Dick. Baking with Alfred. Reading Jane Austen with Jason. Learning new languages with Tim. Coding with Barbra. Taking ballet with Cass. Letting herself get wrapped up in the hurricane of chaos that was Stephanie. She’d play basketball with Duke, and complain loudly about his height advantage.
What could have been was so, so clear in his mind yet so, so fake .
None of that would ever happen. Marinette would never drag him to the movies with Jon. Or team up with his siblings to torture him. She never would, and the clearest reminder of that was her youthful self, barely coming up to his shoulder in height, always with him.
Like a ghost.
Damian came out of the shower and saw a steaming bowl of soup waiting for him on the nightstand. He settled into his bed, surrounding himself with blankets, before starting up another episode of Sheldon Cooper doing something stupid.
---
About a month after Damian’s 14th birthday, he was finally back to feeling like himself. He could annoy his brothers, hang out with Jon, and talk with Marinette without feeling like he was about to throw up.
He’d taken Titus out for a walk in Gotham Public Park, just like he did every Sunday. He had taken a liking to sitting under this big oak tree and drawing the scenery and people passing by in his precious notebook.
Damian had arrived back at the manor precisely 16 minutes after leaving the park, and had expected the rest of the day to be just as mundane and ordinary as usual.
But as he opened the large door into the manors entrance way, his eyes landed on a large sparkly poster reading HAPPY HOME-IVERSARY!
Then, his entire family, plus Jon, who he hadn’t noticed the moment before, chorused the same thing.
Damian stood, completely shocked. There were streamers hanging from the ceiling. He could see food and beverages just around the corner in the family room. There was a loud pop! And rainbow confetti rained down around him.
Dick ran forward, a wide smile on his face. “You’re probably wondering what the hell is happening right now. Well, we all felt bad that you didn’t get that special day once a year that's just about you, so we thought we’d do something. It’s the 4 year anniversary of you moving into the manor. And we haven’t really celebrated it at all in the past. But we want to change that. We want you to feel safe and wanted here. And I’m rambling now. And you haven’t said anything. Did we over step? Was this a trigger too? Oh fuck, I should have asked you before if you were comfortable with this. I guess I just figured that since you’re fine at other people’s birthdays that it was just about you specifically. Not like in general. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, we over stepped. I’m so sor-”
Damian took a step forward and wrapped his arms around Dick in a hug. His eyes were clouding with tears that he hid in Grayson’s hoodie. He felt his older brother’s arms wrap hesitantly around him. Damian was never the other to initiate a hug.
Damian whispered quietly into his ear “Thank you.”
Notes:
What did you guys think?
Damian is really starting to heal now. And his family's got his back. He's making friends now too! I hope you enjoyed the happy, because I'm not sure when you'll get a lot more of it ;)
I honestly don't know all that much about Colin, Maps and Raven. So if they are ooc at any time, I'm sorry. They are here to show his healing journey and to get him act his age sometimes.
But what did you think about Colin and Maps? And Raven? Did you like the Home-iverssairy thing?
I'm a strong believer that Dick is Damian's parent. And I hope I showcased that well here. (I also realized Bruce is like no where in the story so oops)
Next chapter belongs to Marinette. I'm still deciding how much I'm going to put in it. A lot has to happen before the real plot hits so I'm trying to speed it up.
Thank you so much for your patience. I truly love all my readers.Please comment :)
Chapter 20: When Everything Starts to Change Again
Notes:
Hi, I meant to get this chapter done in time for Christmas, but I got busy so now I'm publishing at 11 o'clock at night.
Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Marinette knew things the average person didn’t. Like how to break a person's arm with only a twist. How to sleep with your eyes open in class. How to jump between buildings and run like hell at a moment's notice.
But most of all, she knew she was cursed.
Despite being the literal symbol of good luck, she was very aware that she herself was not. Like how she could trip on air. Or somehow getting her bag drenched in gatorade in the cafeteria. Or have her pen explode with blue ink when it was a red pen, goddamnit.
So summer came as a welcomed relief. After months of just managing to survive school, Marinette finally had something she had lost a long time ago.
Free time.
And with that free time, came the only logical conclusion, a sleepover with Alya. However, Marinette had forgotten the one thing she knew for certain since (and possibly before) she had been hit by that stupid car.
She was fucking cursed.
---
“What the fuck is a Sapotis?” Chat Noir asked, whacking one away with his staff.
Ladybug flung her yoyo at a cluster, all the little propellers on their heads snapping off. “I don’t fucking know, and a honestly don’t fucking care. All I know is that they are chaos causing little demons .”
Three little red clones drove past on a bicycle, a creepy sound admitting from them as they giggled.
“There’s way too many of them for us to keep doing thi- Hey! Fuck! One of them bit me again!”
“You’re right.” Ladybug threw her yoyo in the air, thinking of her lucky charm. There was a brief flash of light, before a red spotted teapot landed in her waiting arms.
“Oh, so we’re supposed to have a tea party. In case the damn charm didn’t notice, these things have fucking fangs!”
“I know, Kitty! I’ve been bitten too!”
“Not nearly as many times, M’lady.”
“Then you should learn to dodge.”
“ Excuse me?”
Ladybug shook her head. “We don’t have time for this.”
“Actually, we have all goddamn night, because it’s one in the fucking morning!”
“Oh, Kitty, you’re missing your beauty sleep?”
“You’re the only one worth dragging my ass out of bed at this hour for.”
“Aww, glad to hear it.”
“Anything for you M’lady.” Chat winded up his staff like a baseball bat, and sent a Sapotis soaring across the street. “A plan would be real good right about now.”
Like a lightbulb went off in her head, she knew what the Charm meant. “Son of a bitch.”
“Hey!”
“Not you. I’ll be back in a couple minutes.”
“What! Lady-”
“Do you trust me?”
He looked at her like she was an idiot. “You already know the answer to that question. Be quick.”
“I will.”
---
Marinette wasn’t sure how she should act around Master Fu.
On one hand, he had given her the incredible abilities of the Miraculous. But on the other hand, she never asked for it.
If she never got the Miraculous, she never would have met Tikki or Chat Noir. And god did she love the stupid bastards. They were her partners in it all. They made sure she didn’t feel alone anymore.
But the Miraculous came with consequences she did not sign up for, or was anywhere near prepared for. Like a messed up sleep schedule, allergies, seeing things she would have been glad to go her entire life without ever knowing about.
So Marinette wasn’t sure what to feel. Because she wouldn’t trade Chat Noir or Tikki for the world, but she really did miss having a normal life.
Or, well, as normal as it could be for an amnesiac orphan.
Marinette could tell Master Fu meant well. She could. And Tikki liked him. So she tried her best.
But holy shit could this guy be vague.
“You’re miraculous and Lucky Charm are very mysterious things.” he pondered, stroking his beard.
Marinette grit her teeth. “Yes, they are. Now, I need a Miraculous. Like, right now.”
“Ladybug, the Miraculous are very dangerous pieces of magic. It must be returned to me after its use.”
“Of course, Master Fu. But I’m kind of on a time crunch here.”
The hexagon box opened, the drawers of various colours popping out. When she had first seen the box, she’d been amazed. There were so many. With powers she couldn’t even think of.
There could be an entire league of Miraculous holders working to take down Hawkmoth, instead of just two kids.
Marinette didn’t have time to think about it.
She scooped up the Fox Miraculous, and started running.
---
Alya Césaire became Rena Rouge.
Chat Noir took to her pretty well. He was confused about where she came from. Since, as far as he knew, there were no other Miraculouses in existence. Ladybug hadn’t been able to catch him to talk about her newest discovery about the Guardian. He was always busy, and she knew how hard it was to get away to fight an akuma. She’d have to tell him soon.
Ladybug was also stressed. She had given an insanely powerful magical object away to a teenager. Granted, she really didn’t have a choice. There weren't any adults she truly trusted, and she couldn’t give it away to any random Joe on the street.
Rena Rouge was good. She was.
Her illusions were amazing. She followed the plan laid out. She got along well with both of them.
But she didn’t feel quite right.
And at the end of the night, she almost didn’t give back the Miraculous. Ladybug had to hide, and she swore she was about to have a heart attack. She got lucky, that singular time, that Alya had decided to slip it through the door and give it back.
Giving out Miraculouses was stressful. But necessary.
---
“I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow." Marinette said, giving Alix a hug.
The girl laughed, patting Marinette awkwardly on the back. “I’ll call. All the time. But I get to go with my dad on his expedition in Egypt. How cool is that!”
“We’re going to miss you so so much.” Rose said, teary eyed.
“Yeah,” Kim smacked Alix on the back. “Who else am I going to make bets with and win?”
“Hey!” she shoved him. “You’re the winner? Excuse me, but do you remember the hotdog eating contest? Or the parkour relay? I whooped your ass.”
Max nodded. “She did.”
“Hey, man! You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I don’t take sides in your mutual stupidity.”
“ Hey!” They both exclaimed, offended.
Nino looked around the park. “Where the hell is Adrien?”
“Probably at some modeling gig.”
“He’s always at some modeling gig, he almost never has free time.”
“Oh, speak of the devil.”
Adrien came running across the park, blonde hair catching in the sun. He slowed to a stop at the group, and they could see he was wearing makeup. Definitely just came from a photoshoot.
“Sorry I’m late. I got a little held up.”
Alix reached up an arm to ruffle his perfect hair. “It’s fine, dude. You made it anyway. God knows your dad’s had you work like a dog for who knows how long.”
“Since I was a baby, actually.”
Ivan raised an eyebrow. “What were you modeling?”
“Some baby formal wear collection."
Rose squealed, “Awwww, I bet you looked adorable.”
Alya whipped her phone out. “I’m googling it right now.”
“Oh come on. You don’t want to see my baby pictures.”
“Actually, Mr Model,” Marinette said, looking over Alya’s shoulder. “We very much want to see your baby pictures.”
On Alya’s screen were several pictures of a blonde, green eyed baby wearing a black and white tuxedo. The girls started crowding around, cooing.
“Oh come on, guys.”
Mylène pointed her finger at one image on the screen, and Alya clicked on it. Next to a smiling baby Adrian was a baby girl wearing a matching outfit. She had blonde hair and very familiar blue eyes.
“Who’s that?”
Alya turned the phone towards Adrien so he could see.
His face lit up in recognition, with a hint of reminiscence. “Oh, that’s Chloé.”
“Chloé!”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Huh?”
Adrien laughed. “I thought you guys knew. We’ve known each other since forever.”
Nino shook his head, looking amazed. “I knew you knew each other before I met you. But I didn’t know you guys all the way back to diapers.”
Kim leaned forward. “So, when did she start becoming bitchy, or was she always like that?”
Alix smacked him over the head.
“Owww.”
“Be polite, idiot. Even if we don’t get along with her, she’s still his friend.”
“But I want to know.”
Adrien looked distinctly uncomfortable. “She’s complicated. She changed a bit when we were around 10 though.”
Rose played with her necklace absently. “I never knew she’s a model.”
“She’s not. At least, not anymore.”
“When did she stop?”
He winced. “When we were around 10.”
“So she-”
“Max, didn’t you have some new invention you wanted to show us?” Marinette cut in, seeing Adrien get more and more uncomfortable.
Max’s eyes lit up behind his glasses. “Oh, yes, yes, I do.” He reached for his backpack, and the conversation was officially changed.
Adrien shot Marinette a thankful look. She sent him a small smile.
“Everyone, I’d like you to meet Markov.”
---
Ladybug found it easier the second time.
It was stressful, yet again, that he would take off running with the Miraculous when the battle was over, but less so than with Alya.
Nino Lahiffe was, at heart, a very simple boy. All he wanted was his girlfriend to be safe and happy. He wanted to protect her.
Which was why, when Alya’s older sister was akumatized and kidnapped her, Ladybug knew he’d be a good Miraculous holder. At least, for today.
He was smart, kind, and he listened to orders. Chat Noir and Carapace got along even better than he did with Rena Rouge.
He should have been perfect.
But still, Ladybug knew there was something not quite right.
---
Chat Noir landed silently, tail swishing behind him.
Ladybug looked over at him, holding up her paper box. “I brought pastries.”
He smiled slightly, and settled down next to her.
The top of the Eiffel Tower wasn’t accessible to the public so late at night, but tower maintenance or police had never tried to ask them to stop using it. The superhero duo had quickly labeled it as their spot. In the first couple months, after the initial strangeness of the whole Miraculous ordeal had worn off, they started meeting up there whenever they could both find the time. It wasn’t often, but every time made them feel just a little bit less alone. Sadly, however, since Ladybug’s big discovery nearly two months ago, they hadn’t had time for a meeting.
She flipped open the box, the sweet smell of chocolate and sugar filling the air. “It’s Dupain-Cheng.”
He grinned, helping himself to an éclair. “Best bakery in all of Paris.”
“Don’t I know it.”
They lapsed into comfortable silence. It was peaceful, which was a rare occurrence to happen when they were together. Their entire relationship was forged in chaos and life or death situations.
Chat broke the silence first. “So, we’re going to talk about Rena Rouge and Carapace.”
She nodded.
This spot was neutral. It was safe. It took time, but once they started finally saying the truth, the floodgates opened. It was here they would complain about schoolwork. Describe their bitchy teachers. Discover their shared experience with neglectful parents.
It was safe here. Here with each other.
Ladybug started. “You know I didn’t mean to keep this from you.” Chat nodded, and she went on. “Before Rena and Carapace, my kwami got sick. I didn’t even know they could get sick. Tikki told me about some healer in Chinatown. It was right after Antibug, and I was panicking. So I went. Turns out he wasn’t only a healer, but the one who gave us our Miraculouses.”
Chat’s eyes went a little wider, but he continued eating his éclair without saying a word.
“I walked in, and he knew I was Ladybug. I swear, I almost punched him in the face. But Tikki told me he was the Guardian. He had his own kwami, Wayzz, from the turtle Miraculous. He told me that centuries ago, there was a whole Order of the Miraculous. But there was an accident, the temple was lost, and he had barely managed to escape with the Miraculous box.” she sighed heavily. “He has a box, like a bigger version of the ones ours came in, but, instead of there being only one in there, there's dozens. There's so many, Chat. They all have a different power, and a different kwami. But there used to be more. The Guardian said that two were lost when the Order fell. The Miraculous of the Peacock, and the Miraculous of the Butterfly.”
Chat sucked in a harsh breath. “So, Hawkmoth found the lost Miraculous.”
Ladybug grimaced. “Yeah. Apparently, after you have reached maturity, the Miraculous stops working on a five minute timer. You don’t have to stop and detransform. You can use your power again and again without changing back. That means Hawkmoth…”
Her partner looked at the sky, a worrying look on his face. “He knows we’re kids.”
She nodded.
He shook his head. “ God. And you never knew the Guardian before Tikki got sick?”
She shook her head. “Only a passing interaction. Apparently, he said it was a ‘test of kindness’. Did you, by chance, help an old man in a Hawiian shirt the day we got our Miraculouses?"
Chat thought for a moment, before his face lit up in realization. “ That son of a bitch.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“So Rena Rouge and Carapace..?”
“My Lucky Charm took the shape of things I saw at the Guardians place. So I went to him, and got Miraculouses.”
He nodded, looking troubled. “Who are they? I’m guessing you didn’t just find any random person off the street to be a holder.”
“Kitty, we keep our identities secret from each other to limit risk. I know you would never tell a soul who I am, but what if you get hit by a mind controlling akuma? Where would we be then? I’m not telling you their identities because I don’t trust you, but because I’m protecting them.”
He nodded. “I can understand that. I don’t like it, but I can understand.”
“Thank you.”
“When do I get to meet the Guardian though? I’ve got questions for him too.”
She winced. “I actually wasn’t supposed to tell you he even existed. But it felt wrong keeping something that big secret from you.”
He looked at her with something like adoration. “Thank you, for that. Honestly, if you never told me and I found out later, I’d be pissed.”
She laughed. “Oh, believe me, when I met him, I was pissed too. But he led me to you, so that has to be worth something.”
Chat grinned, his canines flashing. He bumped her with his shoulder. “Careful now. People will start thinking you’re the one falling for me.”
They both laughed.
“Sorry Kitty. My only love is to Paris.”
“Shame. It’s hard competing with the City of Love itself.”
“You’re putting up a good fight.”
“Oh really? Well then, perhaps I need to up my game. There may be hope for me yet.”
Ladybug laughed, and Chat just looked at her in awe.
---
Marinette had an array of skills and knowledge she never remembered learning. Discovering those after the accident was always a strange surprise.
She knew she had a knack for languages. Being able to speak Arabic, English, and French seemed like a lot. But then there was the time uncle Wang called and the Mandarin he was speaking made perfect sense. Or when she had to help an Italian immigrant place his order because for some reason the language rolled off her tongue like water. Or when the news showed a Mexican family and Marinette didn’t have to read the subtitles to understand them.
Languages were her thing.
So was, surprisingly, coding. While she may not be on Max’s level of skill, she certainly wasn’t anything to scoff at. She knew how to hack into phones and computers. More than once, she had hacked into the school computers to see if there were any surprise pop quizzes planned. Mostly her skills in the digital world were used to make it seem like she was in a different country so she could watch whatever she wanted on her laptop.
Her oddest skill, in her opinion, was fighting.
Specifically, fencing. Honestly, when a classmate of hers started chasing her with a stick when she was ten years old, she didn’t think she'd end up putting him on his ass. But it was so worth the detention she got for making him cry.
So every year, since after her accident, she’d walk across the street to her school and attend the tryouts for Armand D’Argencourt’s Fencing Academy. And every year, she’d be offered a spot, and every year, she turned it down.
She honestly just attended to see if her skills were still sharp, and see how good the students were. Marinette was always the best. She also found it hilarious the face Mr D’Argencourt would make every time she turned it down.
(“Pure talent! You’re the best I’ve ever seen. You mustn't waste your potential!”
“Sorry Mr D’Argencourt, I’m still not interested.”
“But think of your talent! With you, we could win the finals against Gotham Fencing Academy! Don’t you want to show those prissy rich Americans how much better us Europeans are?”
“Tempting, but still no.”)
Tryouts were always in the summer, once every week at different schools. Usually, the same students showed up as volunteers. Marinette had become quite familiar with them during the tryouts, and knew they had a very large betting pool on who could last the longest against her.
However this year, when they lined up with their first partners, she was against someone new.
“Hi Marinette.” Her opponent waved happily. She could feel his smile through his mask.
She blinked. “Adrien?”
“Yup. I didn’t know you were trying out this year. You practice fencing?”
She grinned, pulling her mask over her face. “Not at all. I’m just here for the hell of it.”
“Don’t worry, Marinette. I’ll go easy on you.”
She felt her smile turning just a little bit feral. “Oh, don’t worry about little old me, Adrien. Give it all you got.”
“Sure.” She could tell from his tone he clearly wasn’t going to listen to her.
Oh well, his loss.
The buzzer sounded, and Adrien lunged first. Marinette let instinct take over, and in a second she had struck him in the chest.
Adrien laughed. “I’m going to be honest, I didn’t expect that.”
“Are you humbled?”
“A bit. I’m the best at the academy, but clearly I could be getting better.”
“Always room for improvement.”
“You just made me want to try harder. There’s no way Mr D’Argencout won’t give you the spot.”
Hearing his name, the man himself appeared next to Adrien, making him jump.
“Mr Agreste is right. You must join our prestigious academy so in two years you may join us for finals.”
“Well, I hate to disappoint once again, but I have to say no. Today’s been fun though.”
Mr D’Argencourt’s impressive mustache twitched in frustration. “But Miss Dupain-Cheng, you have so much potential. Mr Agreste wasn’t able to join us at finals last year, but I know that if we had you, you could have won against that Wayne boy.” The name was spat with much more venom than Marinette would have thought. “That boy… For years we were international best fencers. But ever since Mr Gardener found that Wayne boy to add to his academy…” The man’s eyes went a little deranged and he tsked. “You must help win back our glorious title of World's Best Fencers! We need you, Miss Dupain-Cheng, to bring us back our honor!”
Marinette blinked, wondering if she was supposed to clap after that passionate speech.
One of the volunteers she knew leaned over and whispered, “He’s kinda been obsessing over this kid. The dude absolutely smoked us at finals. Now Couch has a personal vendetta.”
She winced. “I’m sor-”
“Is it the money? I’ll wave it, give you a full scholarship.”
“That’s very kind, but-”
“Transportation? I’ll send a personal driver.”
“Sir, I can’t-”
“I can give you personal sessions. You don’t need to be around all the smelly boys.”
“Hey!”
“Uncalled for.”
“We’re not that bad.”
The boys in question made offended sounds.
Marinette took a breath. “Sir, I truly appreciate the offer. I do. But I simply don’t have the time. Besides, the spot should go to someone who wants it.”
“Well-”
The doors to the school slammed open. A person, dressed in completely red fencing gear, stood with a sword in their hand. They pointed their sword at Mr D’Argencourt. “I am here for my spot on your team. Everywhere I go, I am the best fencer. I wish to join your academy and go to finals with you. I will compete against the best fencer and win to earn my place.”
‘Damn, talk about a dramatic entrance.’ Marinette thought. Then, everyone turned their heads to her. ‘Oh for fuck sake.’
Adrien, the bastard, pointed at her with a wicked smirk. “It’s her.”
Marinette shot him a glare before the figure pointed their sword at her. “You . I challenge you.”
She sighed.
Mr D’Argencourt looked delighted. He clapped his hands together. “Excellent. Come over here. We’ll use the body cords.”
Adrien hustled her over to one side of the mat, clipping some sort of wire to the back of her shirt. He smiled at her, and patted her on the shoulder. “Go kick his ass.”
Marinette smiled back, settling her mask over her face. The fencer on the other side of the mat was experimentally flexing their saber. She assumed it was the equivalent of cracking your knuckles before a fist fight.
Mr D’Argencourt stood on a raised platform above two red screens. “Now, bow to your adversary.”
She and the other fencer took several steps forward and held their swords in front of their faces. Marinette noticed the other fencer's back was straight and they leaned forward with their hips. ‘Probably Asian then. The red suit is probably for luck too.’
They went to step back to their places, and Mr D’Argencout raised his hand. “You can begin when the buzzer sounds.” He brought his hand down swiftly like a race flag, and screens changed to red as the buzzer sounded.
The fencer lunged forward first, quicker than Marinette anticipated. She twisted her body to the right ever so slightly and struck the fencer in the torso while they brushed against her hip.
“Abstain! Rematch!”
Marinette shifted on her feet, grinning. ‘Better than I thought. Won’t underestimate them again.’
The buzzer sounded. The fencer lunged, but this time Marinette deflected. She wanted to see how they would react next. They were ambitious. Probably because they really were good. But not better than her. The fencer swiped at her thigh, and she slid to the left. She decided to go for the ending, and struck them on the arm while the other hit her on the waist.
Mr D’Argencout had a contemplative look on his face, before saying, “Abstain. Rematch!”
The fencer stepped forward confidently. “I suggest let’s do this the old fashion way. Loose the cords, and free up our movements.”
He clapped excitedly once again, like a kid on Christmas. “Yes! And this will determine our winner!”
The fencer detached themselves from the machine on their own while Adrien shuffled over to help Marinette.
“Why are you letting the matches draw?”
Marinette smirked under her mask. “You noticed.”
“You’re holding back.”
“I want to get a good feel for them. Can’t do that in half a second.”
He nodded, before taking his place back in the crowd.
The buzzer sounded.
This time, Marinette lunged first. Her opponent narrowly dodged, but she didn’t intend to hit her. She wanted to see how they reacted to a more aggressive attack instead of going into one. The fencer didn’t seem to like it, and lunged forward with more energy than before. She moved away, and the fencer took a stance off the mat.
‘Well, if we don’t have boundaries.’
Marinette lunged off the mat as well, and soon they were driving each other across the room. The spectators moved out of the way of the fight, completely enraptured.
Marinette let the fight move up the stairs, light footed and quick. She could tell it was making her opponent more and more angry. They followed her up the stairs, quick but landing too heavily on their feet with every step, slowing them down.
She found she was actually enjoying the match, and let the sweep of adrenaline guide her to lead the fight to the library.
She sidestepped once again. “You’re good.”
The fencer nearly stumbled into a bookshelf and growled, “Let’s finish this.”
Their next attack was much more aggressive, but Marinette knew rage made people more reckless. “Oh, but we’re having so much fun.”
They lunged with a battle cry.
“Fine, have it your way.”
Marinette deflected the incoming blade and struck the fencer right over their heart.
The spectators cheered.
It was probably humiliating, being so confident in your skill only to be struck down at the drop of a hat only when intended too. Marinette knew it was clear that she had been toying with the other, but she really had enjoyed the match. Not enough to want to join the academy, but enough to draw it out.
She took off her mask, holding her hand out for a handshake. “You’re good. Haven’t yet faced a worthy opponent in fencing, but it was fun. You should join the academy.”
The fencer shook their head, their body language radiating disappointment. “No. I said I would join if I won. I did not. I must leave now.”
They ran out the door. Mr D’Argencourt shouted after them invitations to join the academy. When the fencer was truly out of sight, his shoulders dropped in a way she had never seen the perfect-posture teacher do. “Why do I keep losing such good fencers?”
Marinette shook her head. “You don’t have to officially decide who's joining until next week. Maybe they’ll come back.”
He shook his head. “It’s hopeless. He’s already gone.”
---
The fencer got akumatized.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t Ladybug who arrived on the scene first. She didn’t even know about the akuma until Chat Noir appeared in front of her as she was crossing the street.
He grasped her shoulders, looking serious and if it wasn’t for knowing him so well, she wouldn’t be able to detect the panic in his eyes. “You need to hide.”
Marinette blinked. She hadn’t had an interaction with Chat Noir in civilian form since their conversation after Evillustrator on her balcony. And what he was saying wasn’t making any sense.
“What?”
“You need to hide.”
“I don’t underst-”
A woman, 8 feet tall and made of shining silver metal landed on the road. People scattered. By now, akumas were regular enough that most people knew that if you see one, you drop what you’re doing and get the fuck away. Which definitely helped Ladybug and Chat Noir.
The only issue about running away was, Marinette was the target.
The akuma pointed their arm (6 feet long and sharp like a blade) at her.
Marinette felt her wrist burn, every instinct in her screaming danger, danger, run, run, RUN.
“I challenge you! I will prove I am once again the best fencer! Come fight me!”
Chat Noir stood in front of her, gripping his staff like a sword. “Oh come on now, why don’t you pick on someone your own size.”
“Uhhhh, you’re definitely not her size.” Marinette whispered.
He turned his head slightly, talking out of the side of his mouth. “I know. Now run!”
She didn’t need to be told twice. She ran back towards the school, not looking back. She could hear the angry scream from the akuma, followed by metallic clanging. She kept running.
Marinette had to find a place to transform. Now.
---
Turns out Chat Noir was a pretty good fencer.
But Riposte was vicious.
She was quick, strategic, and had nothing against some spilt blood. It took hours to get her cornered, and Ladybug was pretty proud to say how few civilian casualties there were. Chat Noir hadn’t even needed to use his Cataclysm. But still, Ladybug would much rather fight Mr Pidgeon fifty more times then go toe to toe with Riposte.
Ladybug let Chat Noir soak up the media’s attention for sword fighting the akuma while she snuck around the back of the museum to detransform.
He was still talking to a very peppy looking young reporter when Marinette ran past the front of the museum and down the block. She managed to catch sight of the girl just before she got in her car.
“Hey! Wait a second!”
The girl looked up, hesitantly pausing.
Marinette caught up to her, panting lightly. “Where are you going?”
She had been right about her assumptions of the girl. She was Asian (Japanese if she had to guess), and wore a regal, neutral expression.
The girl tried to keep her face void of any emotions, something Marinette could tell was practiced. “I will be heading home now.”
“But-”
“Look, I am very sorry my akumatized counterpart tried to kill you, and please don’t tell the press-”
Marinette waved her hands around in a wild gesture. God, her head was all over the place recently. “No, no, no, no, no, no. It’s not that. I don’t blame you for that. I’m a Parisian. It’s not exactly my first time running from an akuma. I wanted to tell you that you’re good at fencing. Like, really good. And that you should take the place at the academy.”
“You earned your spot. I’m not accepting it out of some strange pity-”
“No, no. I’ve been going to tryouts for years. I just like seeing how good their fencers are. I’m not joining. I’ve got enough going on in my life anyways. But you should.”
The girl shook her head. “I did not win. I am not the best.”
“Then become the best. I guarantee you, you’ll at least be in the top three slots at that school.”
“That’s very kind of you to say, but I come from a family of the world's best fencers. I must be the best. I have to bring my family honour.”
“I’ll help you with that.” Marinette wouldn’t normally offer this, but there was something about this girl was was calling to her.
The girl looked at her suspiciously. “What do you mean?”
“I’m a pretty busy person, but I’d be more than happy to give you a few lessons a month. I think it would do us both some good.”
“I’ve trained with the best fencers in the world.”
“Then what’s the harm in trying with me?”
Marinette held out her hand.
The girl paused, clearly thinking. After weighing her options, the girl took her hand to shake. “I look forward to our next meeting.”
She grinned. “Me too. I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng by the way. You?”
“My name is Kagami Tsurugi.”
Notes:
Damn right Kagami is here!!!!
I'm hoping to get the next chapter done next week, but no promises. I think I'm eventually fall into a rhythm, but that day is not today.
Soooooo..... What did you think of Marinette's opinion of the Guardian? Or Ladybug and Chat Noir's relationship? And Kagami?
Also keep in mind I had this story planed before I watched the two newest seasons of Miraculous, so now canon will be my bitch and I will take what I want.
Next chapter belongs to Marinette again, but I promise I've got some exciting stuff coming up. Please be amazing as my readers always are and be patient.
I really want to hear your opinions and theories. (Honestly, sometimes you catch things that were just happy accidents and then I'm impressed with myself, so please keep doing that)-GHB
(I know I normally don't sign off like this but I'm trying something new)
Chapter 21: A Collection of Lies
Notes:
Hi, I'm back.
Sorry about disappearing again. A whole lot of shit happened in my life and I had to deal with that.
But I'm back and this chapter has plot. Which I'm very excited about. So I'll let you get on with it.Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
As exhausting as the summer was, Marinette did not want to go back to school.
She was not ready for her sleep schedule to be even more tarnished then it already was, or have the stress of school work pressing down on her. But Marinette managed to survive last year, so she told herself that she can survive this year too.
All of her plans came crashing down the second she set foot in the classroom.
Her classmates were all crowded around a new student. Who was sitting in her usual seat at the front of the class.
Now, Marinette wasn’t going to make a big deal about it, especially since the girl was new, so she took her belongings to the back of the classroom and sat next to Nathaniel. The boy gave her a shy smile, then continued on with his drawing.
Miss Bustier entered the classroom just seconds later. Marinette didn’t know how she was still their teacher for the third year in a row. She also didn't care enough to find out.
“Good morning, everyone!” Ms Bustier beamed. “And welcome back from a lovely summer vacation. I’m sure we’re all sad about Alix moving to Egypt, but we have a new student joining us, and I’m sure you’ll all give her a warm welcome. Why don’t we all go around, say our name, our favorite colour, and one thing we did this summer? Nino, how about you start us off.”
Marinette mostly zoned out for the first few, since she already knew their names. She perked up when it got to the new student.
“Hi, everyone! My name is Lila Rossi, my favorite colour is orange-”
“Ooooooh, girl, same.” Alya interrupted, smiling at the girl sitting at her desk.
Lila was a very pale girl, with olive skin, and olive coloured eyes. Her hair was honey brown, and if it weren’t for the oddly done pieces framing her face, which looked like sausages, she'd be quite pretty.
Marinette wrinkled her nose at their comments though. Orange? Really?
“I’ve never met anyone else who’s favourite colour is orange.”
“I know, girl. No one else can appreciate the colour.”
“Girls,” Ms Bustier interrupted. “Let's get back on track. So, what did you do this summer?”
Lila smiled, and for some reason it didn’t quite sit well with Marinette. “I spent most of my summer in Italy, that’s where I’m from. I’m living here now because my mom is a diplomat. But I spent some time modelling too.”
“Adrien’s a model too, aren't you, dear.”
Adrien raised his head quickly, as though he was just waking up from a dream. “Uh, yeah, yeah, totally.” He clearly had no idea what he was saying.
Lila gasped. “Wait, is your dad Gabriel Agreste? The reclusive designer?”
He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah…”
“That’s so cool. You must have all the newest clothes all the time.”
“Uh, yeah, I guess. I’m not really that passionate about fashion.”
Ms Bustier clapped her hands. “Let’s stop getting side tracked, please. Ivan, it's your turn now.”
---
Marinette had a pet peeve. Liars.
Ironic, considering she herself was a master at spinning lies. (And Marinette definitely didn’t have to reassure herself in the dark of her room after every akuma attack that lying to her friends was okay. That it was fine to bend and stretch the truth to her parents. She had to do it. She was just protecting them. And Chat. She didn’t feel a wave of guilt with every false excuse. It was fine. Right? )
She wasn’t sure where this dislike of liars came from. Sure, no one really likes a liar, but there was just something about them that tickets her off more than the regular person. Like it was personal.
But Marinette also had her reasons to keep things to herself. (Even if she was a hypocrite.)
Lila, on the other hand…
Marinette didn’t want to be the judgmental type. Lots of people had valid reasons for lying. But no matter how hard she wracked her brain, Marinette just couldn’t think of any for Lila.
First, it was little things. Innocent things. Like:
“Oh, I’m so sorry Miss Bustier. You see, my neighbour’s dog snuck into my home again and ate my homework. I know that sounds ridiculous, but he really did.”
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here yesterday. My great uncle fell and I had to stay with him.”
“My friend from Italy came out to visit me suddenly, and I couldn’t just let her wander around Paris on her own.”
Then they got gradually more improbable.
“My dad used to do software engineering, and I got to meet Lex Luthor himself. He’s soooo much nicer in person.”
“Oh my god, I’m telling you, when I worked with Clara Nightingale as a backup dancer for her last video, she was wearing a wig.”
“Of course I’ve run into a superhero before. Back in Central City a few years ago, I got saved by the Flash. We even took a photo. But the stupid disposable camera wasn’t waterproof, and Captain Cold froze it and when it melted all the film was lost.”
Lila wasn’t stupid either. She was subtle, mentioning a mundane name or place and then bringing it up again a few days later with a story attached. To everyone, she just seemed forgetful, if not a little oblivious.
But Marinette was a liar. And liars recognize liars.
Though, there was one exception to Marinette’s hatred of liars.
“She sounds like a bitch.” Marc said, swiping powdered sugar off his plate with his finger.
Marinette thudded her head against the table, groaning. “Oh my god. Thank you . It’s like I’m the only one who sees it.”
“Really? It feels like they’re pretty obvious lies.”
“They are. Pretty much every one is fucking blind.”
“Pretty much?”
“Oh, Chloé knows she’s full of shit. She voiced that pretty damn quickly. But no one likes Chloé, except Sabrina so Sabina knows Lila is spewing bullcrap. Adrien does too. Lila is using him to get an in at his dad’s company as a model. It’s working, but holy crap does Adrien look uncomfortable about it. Juleka and Nathaniel don’t seem like they believe her, but they haven’t voiced any opinions yet so I don’t know where they stand.”
Marc furrowed his brow for a second. “Wait. Who’s Nathaniel?”
Marinette waved her hand absently. “You don’t need to pretend you’re interested in my hectic life. I mean, you’re not my therapist. You’re also a customer who I am not supposed to be sitting with during my break, but who cares.”
Marc shook his head, looking slightly panicked. “No, no, no, I like hearing about your life. It’s nice talking to a friend.” His cheeks dusted pink. “Oh-wait-I… are we friends?”
She gave him a fond smile. “Of course we’re friends. You wouldn’t be getting free croissants otherwise.”
He grinned shyly. “And my very poor fourteen year old pockets thank you for that. So, who’s this Nathaniel?”
“He’s some kid in my class. He had a crush on me, like, a year ago. He got akumitized when someone made fun of him for it. He was actually one of the first akumas.”
“Really? Who was he?”
“Evilistrator.”
Marc gasped. “Dude! I wrote like a whole book about him. I know he was an akuma, so he was evil and all, but he was fucking cool if you think about it. He could literally draw anything, and it would just come into existence. Or erase anything, and it would disappear. I honestly think that if Hawkmoth was as smart back then as he is now, Elivistrator would have caused, like, a lot more damage.”
Marinette winced. “You’re probably right about that one. The akumas have been getting more intense lately, haven’t they?”
“You’re telling me. Tuesday night, I didn’t get a wink of sleep. Some purple goblin was screaming about the proper way to dry clean cashmere all night. I don’t know how Ladybug and Chat Noir do it.”
“Neither do I.” Marinette yawned.
“What does your therapist think about this whole Lila thing, if you don’t mind me asking?”
She shrugged. “Don’t know. I’ve only had one session with her since Lila came, she didn’t come up in conversation that time. My parents decided to change my sessions from once a week to once every three weeks.”
Marc licked more sugar off his thumb. “Bad timing.”
“You’re telling me.”
Sabine chose that moment to call from behind the counter of the bakery, “Marinette, break times over! Go help your father with icing those cupcakes.”
“Coming, maman.” Marinette called back, getting up from the table. “Isn’t there some sort of child labour law they should know about.”
Marc laughed slightly, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. His sleeve fell a centimeter or two down his arm. Marinette’s eyes zeroed in on a blossoming bruise around his wrist.
“Marc, if there’s anything going on at home, you know you can tell me, right?”
He blinked, glancing from her suddenly serious face to his arm. He hastily tugged his sleeve to his fingers. She could see his walls coming back up. “Everything’s fine. I just bumped into some shelves. No big deal.”
Marinette made a face that clearly showed she didn’t believe him.
“Marinette! The cupcakes aren’t going to frost themselves!”
“Just a minute, maman.” She turned back to Marc looking him directly in the eyes as she spoke. “If you ever, ever, need somewhere to go, you come here. I don’t care why. I don’t care when. If you need somewhere safe, you come here. Don’t even hesitate.”
Marc diverted his eyes.
“Please tell me you understand. I can’t force you to take the offer, but please tell me you know the offers there.”
Marc turned his head, emerald eyes vulnerable. “I promise that I’ll come here if I have to.”
She smiled. “Great.” She wiped off some flour from her apron, retying it around her waist. “Do you want another free croissant before I go in the back?”
---
Marinette was going to loose her fucking mind.
There was a book. About the Miraculous. One that would have been incredibly helpful a year ago. One that was a secret. One that was supposed to be under the Guardians' protection.
And it was in the fucking school library.
She hadn’t noticed it at first. She was busy trying to apologize to Adrien and Lila for steamrolling straight into them as they were leaving. Then she was frantically trying to stuff their papers into their bags so they wouldn’t be late for their photoshoot.
It wasn’t until long after they had left, and Marinette just happened to be looking for a book in that section of the library, when she noticed a book that must have fallen under the shelves.
Marinette knew a lot about memories, given that she was severely lacking in them. The doctors had simply told her that she hit her head, and she couldn’t remember anything. So she had taken to the internet, checked out a couple books, and conducted her own research.
Head injuries were tricky. No one really knew everything there was about how the brain worked and its reactions to just about everything. Every person was different, results varied.
Memories could also be blocked as a trauma response, which was something Renée had dived deep into. Her brain could have simply decided that her memories were too painful to manage, and had blocked them for her own safety.
Marinette had wanted to try hypnosis, but her newly adopted parents had declined. They said that if she couldn’t remember on her own, it was simply fate. (That led to a lot of sessions with Renée to unpack her feelings about it.)
A person was also shaped by their core memories from early childhood. Of course, people could react differently than others, and become completely different people who happened to grow up in the same environment. But a person's opinions, personality, and judgement were fundamentally affected by childhood memories.
There were also the memories that were much harder to forget. Such as how to talk, write, read, move. Fine motor skills had to be developed early in life, and was something that was ingrained into a person’s soul.
So Marinette knew a lot about memories.
And she could remember the day she received her Miraculous. The box was sitting in the center of her desk. Looking innocent.
It was one of those memories that was seared into your brain. A distinctive moment that altered the course of your life so much it was nearly impossible to forget.
When Marinette pulled the book out from under the shelf, she instantly recognized the symbol on the cover to be exactly the same as on the box she had received, and on the Miracle Box.
Marinette felt the air get sucked out of her lungs.
“Oh shit.”
---
Master Fu was useless.
He had no explanation for how the book got lost, where it went, or how it ended up back in their possession.
No, actually, he said it was because Marinette’s Ladybug luck had worked and brought the book back.
Marinette was sure that her Miraculous didn’t grant her luck, though.
So, no explanations for the mini heart attack she received an hour ago. She would have pestered him about it more, if it weren’t for an akuma. Because of course.
Hawkmoth was a real son of a bitch. And the Collector was a pain in the ass.
By the time Ladybug had arrived on the scene, Chat Noir was there, fighting off the akuma in the street.
She found him crouched down behind a car. “What’s the akuma’s powers?”
The car flashed, before disappearing, sucked into the Collectors sketchbook. The Collector stood there with a smirk. “Found you.”
Chat Noir tackled Ladybug, a beam of light narrowly shooting past them.
“That! That’s his power!”
Another beam narrowly missed them, and they scrambled in opposite directions. “Can he-”
“Yup!” Chat Noir interrupted, ducking quickly. The mail box behind him disappeared. “He can capture people!”
“Is there-” Ladybug jumped, a potted plant disappearing nearby.
“No way to get them out!”
“Where is th-”
“The akuma’s in the book!”
Ladybug winced, watching Chat do a complicated flip to avoid another beam. “We’re really screwed then.”
“You’re telling me!”
The Collector started directing his attacks on Ladybug, sending beams of light in quick succession. She leapt over a fire hydrant, and water shot high into the air behind her. Water started flooding the street as she dodged a weaved between blasts.
Ladybug miscalculated exactly how deep a puddle was, and fell as her ankle got caught in a pothole. She saw a beam heading straight for her.
Just before it hit, a silver pole flew between her and the akuma. The staff disappeared, and Ladybug managed to get back on her feet before the next beam was aimed.
Chat Noir, now weaponless, shouted, “I think we’re going to need that Lucky Charm sooner rather than later!”
“I think you’re right!” Ladybug swung her yoyo in the air, rolled out of the way of another blast, and caught a single chopstick in her hand.
“Jesus, you couldn’t even get a complete set!”
“Now is not the time for jokes, Chaton!” Her mind raced faster than her feet over the pavement. “I think I have a plan, but you’re not going to like it.”
“No offence M’lady, but I rarely like your plans!”
Ladybug actually did laugh at that one. “I have to go get backup! Do you think you’ll be able to keep the destruction mostly contained?”
“Destruction is kinda my thing! Now go! Hurry!”
---
Marinette detransformed in an alley, turned the corner, and took off up the flight stairs in Master Fu’s building. She didn’t bother knocking as she burst through the door, causing Master Fu to jump and spill his scalding tea in his lap.
“Ahhh!” He sprang up, pulling the fabric away from his body.
“I need a Miraculous.”
“And I need a new shirt.” He turned, grabbing a spare piece of cloth and dabbing at his clothes.
“Master Fu, I need it now.”
“In a moment. You should know, Ladybug, that patience is important to strategy.”
Marinette groaned. “But time is not exactly something we have an abundance of.”
“Then perhaps you will learn the significance of waiting.”
She didn’t have fucking time for this. Chat Noir, her partner, was going head to head with an akuma, weaponless, and she had abandoned him to chase after a cookey old man.
“I’ll do it myself then.” She strided across the room, pressing the buttons on the phonograph.
“Hey! You can’t do that!”
“If you can’t help me, then I’m going to help myself.” Marinette continued pressing buttons, replaying in her mind every time she’d seen Fu do it.
“You don’t know the cod-”
The lock clicked, and the phonograph twirled before the top opened.
“You can’t just tak-”
She opened the lid of the Miracle box, grabbing what she needed and turning on her heel to leave. “Unlike you, I’m going to go help my partner. Maybe grow a pair and fucking clean up your own mess, instead of leaving children to do it.”
The door slammed shut behind her before she could hear his response.
---
Ladybug had no idea where Chat and the Collector were. By the time she got back to the street she left them in, they were long gone.
Usually, she’d just use her yoyo to track her partners location, but the tracker was part of his weapon. And the staff was in the Collectors book.
Learned the hard way, magical Wi-Fi doesn’t work through magical books.
Ladybug was just about to hunt down the nearest live news network when the Eiffel tower disappeared in the distance.
She blinked for a moment. ‘ Well, didn’t actually expect that .’
She took off swinging, praying that by the time she got here, Chat Noir was still fighting.
---
When Ladybug arrived on the scene, the first thing she noticed was that Chat Noir was alright. His hair might have been a bit more ruffled than usual, and some dirt stuck to his suit. But other than that there was no blood she could see, and his stance was strong enough to tell her his body wasn’t in pain.
The second thing she noticed was that the Collectors book was much, much bigger than it was the last time she had seen it.
The third thing she noticed was Alya nearby, livestreaming the battle just like the girl with zero self preservation she knew.
Ladybug swung down onto the steps of the Grande Paris, approaching the girl swiftly. She opened her yoyo, taking the box out as she walked.
“Alya Césair-”
“LOOK OUT!”
Chat slammed into her side, tackling her to the ground. Her arm flung out, the box slipping from her grasp and tumbling into the open doors of the hotel.
The pair or heroes managed to right themselves in time to see Alya be hit by a beam of light, disappearing into the pages of the Collectors book.
“So, that book’s a lot bigger.” Ladybug said, diving away from another beam of light.
Chat went in the opposite direction, landing much more gracefully then he would have a couple months ago. “The more he takes, and the bigger the object is, the bigger the book gets. I didn’t really notice it until he took the Eiffel tower. Who’s the backup?”
“Well-” Ladybug started, only for her to have to tumble out of the way of another beam. The beam struck the wall behind her, and the Grande Paris Hotel flashed bright enough to make her see spots, and disappeared. All that was left was an empty lot filled with gravel and stones. “No help, no help is on the way.”
“What!” Chat artfully dodged another blast.
“The situation changed.”
“Then what the hell are we supposed to do!”
“I-”
“HEY ASSHOLE!”
Boom!
Instinct took over, and Ladybug ducked as a bullet flew by and hit the Collector’s book. The shock sent him stumbling back a step, but not enough to cause him to fall over.
Ladybug glanced behind her, and there, wearing a bathrobe over loose fitting pajamas stood Officer Jacquet. She was wearing slippers, and looked like she had left in a hurry. She’d look harmless, especially near an akuma, if it weren't for the shining silver pistol she held in her hands, the barrel still smoking.
It wasn’t the pistol that grabbed her attention the most though, but the long wooden chopstick knotted at the back of her head.
Ladybug turned to her partner with a grin. “I’ve got a plan. You go left, and sneak up behind him and cataclysm the book.”
“How am I supposed to get close enough if he keeps blasting us?”
“I’ll get him to stop blasting long enough to get the book. You just be ready. You’ll know when to move.”
By now, the Collector righted himself enough to be thoroughly enraged. He sent a blast towards Ladybug, who kicked up a stone that hit and disintegrated the beam before it could reach her.
“Officer! How many bullets do you have left?”
Jacquet’s voice was steady. “Five.”
Ladybug kicked up another rock to block herself. “When I say go, I need you to shoot the akuma center mass. Use all five bullets, and have a one to two second pause between each shot.”
“Copy that.”
“Perfect.” Ladybug could see Chat Noir in position. “Now!”
Boom!
The bullet hit true, and the Collector stumbled.
Boom!
Chat was sprinting, but he had a lot of ground to cover.
Boom!
The Collector tried to send off a blast, but the bullet hit it before it had even gone a foot.
Boom!
Chat’s hand ignited with dark, glowing energy.
Boom!
Chat’s hand grazed the top of the book, crumbling it into ash. A purple butterfly fluttered away, before being caught in Ladybug’s yoyo.
She didn’t waste time purifying the akuma and throwing her yoyo in the air.
A swarm of ladybugs swept through the street, expanding and veering off in different directions to correct the damage of the battle. A group circled Chat, and his staff materialized on his hip.
He ran towards the akuma victim, who was cupping his head like he had a migraine. The man raised his head, and Gabriel Agreste looked around confusedly.
“Where am I? What happened?”
Chat bent down to his level, talking quietly like he always does with akuma victims. Ladybug trusted him to handle it.
She turned to Officer Jacquet, who was looking up at the Grande Paris hotel, where the steps had materialized under her feet.
“Officer.”
The woman turned, strawberry blonde hair whipping around. “Ladybug.”
“I didn’t expect to see you here today. Especially not in uniform.”
Jacquet’s cheeks turned slightly pink, and her body language showed her embarrassingly trying to cover up her fuzzy pajamas. “I live a few blocks from here. I ran out of my apartment hoping I could help evacuate people.”
Ladybug nodded. “You did good. We couldn’t have done it without you.”
Jacquet’s cheeks were definitely pink now. “I’m sure you would have figured something out.”
“Not before more people got hurt. You saved a lot of lives today. Possibly even mine and my partners. I’m grateful for that, and you shouldn’t sell yourself short.”
“I-... Thank you, Ladybug. And thank you for protecting this city so much. I know you and the city officials, and police, and the mayor's office, don’t have a good relationship at the moment. And I hope that can one day change, but I don’t know if it ever will. And I think I speak on behalf of everyone in this city when I say we’re the ones who are grateful. Our police and military have no idea how to handle this threat, and the Justice League has failed us. And the police have failed the city too. But you haven’t. I keep seeing you and Chat Noir getting up and fighting everyday to protect this city and the people in it. And it’s really inspirational, knowing that someone cares that much and is willing to risk their life for people they don’t even know. I became a cop because I thought I understood the meaning of protecting others and being selfless and brave, but you two gave that a whole new meaning. I see you, and I know what a real hero is now. So thank you. Thank you very much.”
Ladybug felt her eyes get misty, and had to blink back tears. She was used to people telling her they were thankful, and that she was their hero, but she’d never heard it put like that. She smiled softly at Jacquet. “I hope to work together with you again in the future. But for now, Chat and I have to be off. And… you said the police failed the city. I don’t think that’s true. You were all just put in a bad situation. You’re a hero too, and you shouldn’t forget that.”
She turned away, walking over to where Chat and Gabriel were still speaking. “Chat, we’ve got to go.”
“Just a second.” He said, and turned to keep speaking to the man.
Ladybug saw his ring beep, only one dot left. “Chat, we don’t have time for this.”
“Just a minute.”
Why wasn’t he already running for cover? “You don’t have a minute. We have to go. Now.”
He glanced at his ring, barely registering it, and said, “Sorry, Mr Agreste, but I really do have to be going.” He pulled himself away from the conversation like it physically pained him.
Ladybug and Chat Noir took off across rooftops, splitting in different directions to detransform. Because no matter how goddamn close they were, they couldn’t reveal their identities to each other. It was too dangerous.
And Ladybug was remembered again that she wasn’t just fighting for Paris, but for her partner as well.
---
The Collector happened on a Friday.
So Marinette didn’t see Adrien until Monday. He wasn’t being shunned at school, which was a relief. The stigma of becoming an akuma and knowing someone who had become an akuma had mostly faded. Instead, it was considered almost taboo to mention it at all.
Marinette really didn’t care though. Ignoring the problem wasn’t going to make it go away.
At lunch, she looped her arm through Adrien’s while he was walking, and pulled him away into an abandoned classroom without anyone noticing.
She shut the door behind her, and turned to Adrien.
The model chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. “Sooooo, why have you kidnapped me?”
Marinette said, in her most genuine voice, “Are you okay?”
He looked like he got whiplash. “Huh?”
“Adrien, you dad just got akumatized. I don’t know everything that happened, but I can imagine that it must have been really scary for you. And I know no one talks about this stuff, but you can talk to me about it if you need to. I won’t judge. So, are you okay?”
Marinette had seen it, the moment she laid eyes on him that morning. How big his eye bags were. How scruffy his hair was. How his clothes weren't perfectly pressed, like he’s been nervously fidgeting with them.
Adrien blinked, and it was like all his walls just decided to cave in. He burst into tears, covering his face with his hands.
Marinette moved forward, pulling him into a hug. He shoved his face against her shoulder, and she could feel it becoming wet. The height difference made the hug slightly awkward, but Marinette just rubbed his back soothingly. The poor boy was shaking. She couldn’t help but wonder how long it had been since someone gave him a hug.
“I-I-I-” His voice was wobbly and wet. “I sh-shou-ld hav-ve been a-able t-t-to st-t-t-op i-i-it.”
She rubbed his back, and he leaned even more into her embrace. “It was not your fault. It was Hawkmoths.”
He sobbed, “I should have saved him.”
“Hey, hey, none of that. You are not responsible for Hawkmoth’s actions. I don’t know why your father got akumatized, but regardless of whether or not you were involved in the lead up, it was not your fault.”
He hiccupped, nodding into her shoulder.
“I want to hear you say it. It was not your fault.”
“I-It w-w-wasn-’t m-m-my f-fault.”
“Good.” She gave him another squeeze.
“I-I-” He swallowed. “I don’t kn-kno-ow w-w-why he w-w-as a-a-akumatized. H-he wouldn’t tell me.” The end of his sentence sounded more like a plea.
Marinette shushed soothingly, and kept hugging him. It was all she could do for him. Offer that little bit of comfort no one else had.
His hiccupping and sobs seemed to last for ages, until he tired himself out. He was still breathing shaky when he finally pulled away.
“I-I ruined your shirt.”
Marinette chuckled. She untied the sweater from around her waist and shrugged it on, covering the dark spot on her shoulder. “I never liked this shirt anyways.”
“I- we should be getting back to the group. They’re probably wondering where we’ve snuck off too.”
Another tear started to streak down Adrien’s cheek, and she whipped it away with her thumb.
“Here.” She opened her purse and Tikki discreetly handed her some tissues.
Adrien took them gratefully. He blew his nose, and whipped at his watery eyes. He still hadn’t stopped shaking.
“We don’t have to go back yet. I can text and say we went to get some croissants.”
He nodded, “Can you p-please not tell anyone a-about this?”
“It’ll be our little secret.”
Adrien looked at her like she was an angel and he couldn’t understand why he was the one being blessed. “Thank you.”
Marinette smiled at him, pulling him into another hug. “You never have to thank me for being your friend. I’m always here to talk if you need it. Just say the word.”
He melted into her arms. “Thank you.”
---
“Our contacts in Britain have been unsuccessful in locating her, ma’am.”
“China?”
“Nothing.”
“Did you check Egypt? She was always fascinated by the pyramids.”
“No luck anywhere, ma’am.”
Talia hummed. “And you kept it quiet?”
“Of course. All our contacts thought it was just routine questions. They have no reason to suspect anything.”
“Good.”
The man calculated his next question carefully. “If I may be so bold as to ask, why do you look for her? She was useless to the League.”
She chuckled. “Useless is not a word I would ever use to describe my daughter. Stubborn? Yes. Just like her father.”
“But she would not kill.”
“She again is just like her father, refusing to take a life. I allowed it to continue, something I deeply regret, simply because Damian was there, and he could always get the job done.”
“Without taking a life, what use could she have had to the League?”
“Do not let her weak stomach fool you. She is just as ruthless as her brother was. While he lacks in the intricacies of social conversations and body language, she excelled. She was the one to lure our enemies into a trap, and he would finish them. They were rarely without each other, because when together, they were a deadly force.”
“Then why has she abandoned him? If she is as loyal to him as you have told me in the past, why forsake him now? Especially once he has turned his back on the League.”
Talia shook her head. “That, I do not have an answer to. I know she can not be dead. She’s far too smart for that. However, I can not imagine her leaving her brother in such a time of need. Perhaps her time away awakened her darker streak.”
“If that were true, you surely would have heard of the bloodshed she left behind.”
“Yes. Which is why this is such an interesting case. The twins are two sides of a coin, they rely on each other.”
The man tutted. “It is foolish to rely on others so heavily.”
“While she made Damian stronger in many ways, she also made him weak. And vice versa. That is why they both turned their backs on me.”
“I would never turn my back on you.”
Talia turned and smiled. “I know. You are going to be so much more than either of them ever were. That is why I created you. ”
Notes:
So what did you think? Strap in for a long Author's Note.
I can practically here someone cursing me out after reading that chapter. (hehehehe)
I've got a lot more plot lined up for the next couple chapters. So if all goes well, and my timeline cooperates, there will be a lot less boring stuff. (I'm especially excited for next chapter.)Talia is up to something. Any ideas? I love throwing her in and seeing what you all think.
Lila, the bitch in orange, has arrived. What did you think of her? (Did you notice how Marinette heavily judged her for liking orange, and the Batfamily said something similar in the Pink chapter?)
Marinette and Marc are getting closer. I do have plans for Marc. I love him. What do you think of Marinette's reaction to his bruises?
Jacquet showed up again. I felt like it was really important to show Ladybug and a cop interacting, because they generally are not on good terms. But Ladybug doesn't hate or blame the police. And Jacquet telling her she's a hero means so much to her. And Jacquet's hero telling her that she's a hero too is so sweet. This will definitely not be the last we're hearing from Jacquet.
Adrien crying over his dad getting akumatized, oh my god. But Marinette was there for him. And the whole time she was like 'someone needs to hug this child'. Them having a good relationship as civilians is something that the show should have worked on more. (I also have not seen the newest season, so no spoilers please and thank you). Adrien also has no idea why his father was akuatized. Hmmmmmmm....
Marinette is also so tired of Master Fu. Like, children are fighting for their lives because of you, and he's drinking tea. She had to steal that Miraculous from him, because her partner needed help and he wasn't getting any. (Also, that miraculous, hmmmmm)
This chapter had a lot of plot, and was setting up for later plot as well.(This is why I was gone, so if you don't want to listen to my ridiculous vent just scroll until the next paragraph)
I have no idea when that chapter will be out, because I was on track to have this one out a week after the last one, but then shit hit the fan. My friends, or who I though were my friends, turned out to be racist assholes, and I'm a person of colour, and they were racist to me as well. I haven't known all of them for a super long time. But I've known one of them for years, I fucking protected him from bullies in school, and then he goes and does this shit. And now he's trying to be my friend again, which won't fucking happen because I can't trust you anymore and I deserve an fucking apology. And I feel fucking stupid and betrayed because I can look back now and see all the red flags I ignored, and I wish I did something because now my real friends are hurt by this too. But they are a lot more forgiving then me, and in a different position then me, so I'm trying to make sure the racist assholes don't try and worm their ways back into our lives because they do have a history of friendship with them, so they want to forgive them, but I don't think they should because they have taken no steps to fixing their racist behavior. (They didn't even give a real apology). I also don't want them becoming friends again because I found out what they've been saying behind our backs, and I don't want my friends to get hurt so I can't tell them what's being said, because they're being homophobic but my friend isn't even out to her family yet so I know it'll really hurt her and set back her journey a lot if she finds out. So I've been dealing with racist assholes harassing me and my friends, and trying to support my friends the best I can. I think it's mostly calmed down, but I thought that before and then it got worse.Soooooooo, I'll see you sometime in the future.
Next chapter belongs to Damian. Which I'm very excited for ;)
Please share your thoughts. Things should be speeding up now, at least for a bit, so to all my amazing readers, thank you so much for your patience.-GHB
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