Chapter 1: Parts 1-5
Chapter Text
I
Inari crouches within the shadows of the rooftop, making sure to keep her invisibility illusion intact. A few feet from her, Nightwing and Red Hood are looking over the night-cloaked city.
"Race you on the rooftops, Red?" Nightwing proposes with a grin.
Inari's palm meets her forehead. She mutters under her breath, "Damn it, Dick, you're going to get hurt again."
Nightwing visibly stiffens and looks around in alarm. "Jay, did you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
The vigilante makes another scan of his surroundings. His lip slightly trembles as his eyebrows raise. "I think my conscience is speaking to me."
Or your common sense. Inari sighs. Or maybe your sister.
"You're acting weird," says Red Hood. "Still up for that race?"
"Uhm, maybe not tonight."
II
Gunshots blare from the alleyway below Inari. It's rubber bullets against metal ones as Red Hood faces off with a group of criminals. The invisible vigilante narrows her eyes, analyzing each movement before she drops down.
They have Red Hood cornered. He reaches for his grappling hook while dodging blows and firing his gun. Inari stays far enough to avoid chaos but near enough to watch over it.
Red Hood aims and shoots at the last one but the angle is off. Inari extends her staff, making the bullet bounce off and hit the man straight on the shoulder.
Red Hood stops and stares. He lifts his gun and Inari swears she can hear the smirk in his voice. "My aim's really good tonight."
III
"Oooh, what's this?" Marinette picks up the blade from the dining table, moving it around to see it glinting under the light.
Damian walks into the room just in time to catch her. His eyes grow wide and his hands reach forward in preparation for an accident.
On her expression, she paints innocent awe. It's almost childlike. But in her head, she cackles, Revenge, Damian. Oh, how careless can you be, leaving your weapon in plain sight.
"Ma-Marinette, don't touch that," her brother warns.
She tilts her head, waving the sword around for added effect. "Hm? Why not? Is this real?"
Damian's jaw hangs open as he clearly struggles to make an excuse. Marinette practically hears his internal debate: should I say it's real? Or not?
He clears his throat. "It's not real-"
"Cool!" Marinette exclaims, mimicking fighting poses. She thrusts the katana forward and then slashes at an imaginary enemy. "It's so heavy, though. Where did you get this? Is this yours?"
Damian looks like he's about to faint. "Wait, Marinette, put that down! Give me that!"
"Why?"
"It's-uhh-it's an heirloom of father's. He will be angry if anything happens to it."
Marinette concedes, handing the blade to Damian. But it's not the end of it. She turns back to the dining chair and pulls out a pair of guns.
Jason saunters into the dining room. "Has anybody seen my-PIXIE, NO!"
IV
Inari watches Red Robin closely, who's standing on top of a gargoyle. She notices that he's been more out of focus than usual and figures that he can use a pick-me-up.
But what can she do as an invisible cat-fox hiding her secret identity?
Red Robin presses a finger against his earpiece. "What's that? No, I didn't . . . why are we talking about work right now? . . . Nah, fuck Lex . . . no I did not sign anything in crayon again, what are you talking about, B?"
With an audible sigh, he turns off his earpiece and rubs his face. "Great, just great."
Keeping her invisibility on, Inari creeps closer towards him. "Hey," she whispers softly.
"Mmm . . . yeah?"
"You doing good?"
"Considering I'm hallucinating a conversation right now, well, no, not really."
Inari fights back a giggle. He must be half-asleep already. "You should go home and rest. You need it," she advised. "Tea also helps with the stress."
"But I can't! I have so much work to do!" Red Robin groans.
"You can take care of it when you're all fresh and rested. Don't worry too much."
"Okay." He stands up. "Thank you, mysterious voice."
V
Being a Wayne kid came with a full package of non-negotiable features: a loud protective family, an absurd amount of riches, Alfred, popularity, childhood trauma.
And of course, kidnappings for ransom.
Punch. Jab. Kick. Duck. Marinette stops to catch her breath after knocking down another one. They took her to an abandoned warehouse when she was on her way to her usual café. She doesn't feel worried or scared---she can take care of herself even out of costume---but she's miffed about the wasted time.
She glances at her wristwatch. Speaking of wasted time . . . She knows the news has reached the vigilantes and they're probably near her location already.
Rather than leaving it to the Bats, she decided to take care of the kidnappers inside the warehouse already to save her the trouble (she knows her brothers will not pull their punches and she doesn't need more of her time being eaten because of that).
Her watch ticks to eleven. Marinette scrambles to the wooden chair and binds her hands in a half-assed knot, just as the door bursts open.
Red Hood enters first. "Let her go---!"
He stops and looks at the unconscious bodies on the floor. Marinette also looks.
"What happened here?" Batman asks.
Marinette shrugs nonchalantly. "They just dropped on the floor suddenly. Weird."
Red Hood rushes to untie her from the seat while the other boys look for surprise attackers. Marinette also catches a glimpse of Orphan and Spoiler at the rafters. They did not need to send in everyone! How overprotective can they be?!
Marinette rubs her wrists. "Did anyone from my family come to get me?"
She does not miss how the big Bat stiffens. "Of course they---!" He stops and clears his throat, shifting back to his deeper tone. "They will arrive shortly, young lady."
She exaggerates a pout. "Not one of them came right away?"
Batman looks utterly conflicted. Marinette hears Spoiler choke on a laugh.
"They'll be here," says Red Hood, checking her for injuries. "We've got to get those cuts treated. You should come with me---"
Marinette recoils. "No, thanks. I'm good, Monsieur Bucket Head." She dusts off her skirt. "Besides, I can go to my brother Jason to help patch me up."
Red Hood lets out a strangled noise.
Chapter 2: Parts 6-10
Chapter Text
VI
Marinette sighs as she throws her window open. "Another night of making sure my family doesn't die."
She's about to jump out and transform when Alfred knocks on her door. "Come in!" she calls out.
The butler comes in with a plate of warm cookies, and another smaller plate of fruits for Trixx. "A snack before you depart, Miss Marinette?"
She lights up and hops to grab the plate. "That looks good! Thank you, Alfie."
"I bid you good luck for tonight. The boys are blowing off some steam for patrol."
She shares a laugh with Tikki. "Don't worry, I have plenty of luck for everyone."
VII
“Tim, can I ask for advice?” Marinette shuffles over to sit beside her sleep-deprived brother, handing him a cup of green tea.
He stops typing to take a sip of the drink. “Sure, what is it?”
“So I caught Dad researching some, um, modern slangs,” she begins. “And I thought it’s pretty harmless, y’know? He’s doing it to understand us better. I didn’t mention it at all but the definitions were a bit questionable.”
“Uh huh, go on.”
Marinette frowns. “But one day, this thing happened.”
—
Marinette finishes lining up the freshly baked macarons on a circular tray. She perks up when she notices Bruce entering the kitchen.
“Hey, want some macarons?” She picks a strawberry-flavored piece and hands it to him.
Bruce takes a bite. “Mmm . . this shit bussin’.”
Marinette’s too stunned to speak. Her brain freezes, flashing back to the time she caught him researching slangs. Oh no . . . But before she formulates a coherent response, Bruce finishes the macaron, pats her on the head, and leaves for work.
—-
“He said WHAT?!” Tim nearly does a spit-take.
“Yeah, he said that.” Marinette cringes. “I was wondering if I should tell him not to say those things.”
Tim sets down his mug and holds both of her shoulders. She stares at the dark circles under his eyes mirroring his. “Nettie, listen to me, you can’t tell him.” He narrows his eyes. “Every instance he does that will be the drug that will motivate me everyday to live and we need everyone to witness it first.”
“Uhh, okay.”
“What else did he say?”
—
Marinette glides down the grand staircase with her new dress. For a rare time, she’s made a piece for herself and herself only. Bruce passes by and she waves him over.
“What do you think of my new outfit?” She does a spin. “I just finished making it.”
Bruce gives a nod of approval. “Slayyy.”
—
Alfred has gotten them all to be present at the family dinner that night. Marinette slips into the seat next to Tim, casting a furtive glance at her father. She both hopes and dreads that he strikes during mealtime.
As utensils scrape on plates and chatter fills the room, she patiently waits. Suddenly, Damian clears his throat. “Father, I refuse to attend the gala this Saturday.”
Bruce sighs. “We already talked about this. All of you will go, and no exceptions this time.”
“What if I have homework?”
“Then finish it before Saturday.”
“But Father—”
“You are going to the gala, Damian,” Bruce declares sternly. “Periodt.”
The madness that consumes the entire room is peak chaos. Tim and Marinette lean against each other, covering their mouths to muffle their laughter. Dick’s fork falls and clatters on his plate. Both Stephanie and Jason are choking on their food, while Duke and Damian wear looks of confusion. Cass’ eyes grow wide. Even Alfred quirks an eyebrow.
“Sorry, B, what did you say?” Dick coughs.
“Periodt. End of discussion.”
“Oh. My. God,” Stephanie whispers, wiping her chin.
—-
Marinette is certain that Batman will also make it a point to throw out straight-faced slangs during patrol. After transforming, she asks Alfred to help connect her to the comms so that she’ll be able to hear the others while still being untraceable.
“The robbers are heading to an abandoned building,” Oracle reports. “I don't think that place is anywhere near accessible.”
“That’s sus,” Batman comments.
“Sorry, that’s what?”
—-
Inari positions herself on a rooftop near where the other vigilantes are. Nightwing does an extravagant flip when he moves from one building to another.
Batman only mumbles but the sound is picked up by the comms: “So extra.”
The sound of someone wheezing follows after. Inari guesses that it came from Red Robin.
“What was that, B?” Red Hood asks.
“I said your movements are on fleek today, Nightwing.”
—
“I got him!” Robin calls out, pinning one of the criminals in an alley.
“Good. Wait for us, Robin. They’re going to catch these hands,” Batman instructs.
Inari bites her lip to keep any noise from escaping. It’s a good thing she recorded all of that.
VIII
Marinette sometimes wonders why her family is awful at keeping secret identities.
Then she thinks of one reason: their excuses never line up. She witnesses it firsthand one day when Jason enters the living room, wearing a cast and an arm sling.
She fakes a gasp. "Jason! Your arm!"
"'Tis but a scratch, Pix." Jason waves it off. He picks up the jacket he's looking for and stretches one arm to ruffle her hair.
"What happened to it?" Marinette asks.
"It---" Jason's phone chimes before he can get an answer out. "Next time, I'll tell you. Gotta go now."
He exits the room quickly. Moments later, Damian appears with his sketchpad in one hand.
Marinette looks up from her phone. "Dames, do you know what happened to Jason?"
"Tt. He was being reckless as usual." The preoccupied Damian searches the room, perhaps for his pencil. "Fell down from his apartment."
Marinette blinks. "Why am I only hearing this now?"
He rolls his eyes. "It is no surprise for Todd to get injured often."
---
That afternoon, she sees Dick in the kitchen, looking around for home-baked snacks to eat. She opens the fridge to hand him a slice of cake that she already prepared.
"Do you know what happened to Jason's arm?" Marinette grabs a slice for herself.
Dick laughs out loud. "His arm? I bet him he can't catch an M&M in his mouth while doing a flip."
"Spoiler alert." The eldest smirks. "He can't."
Marinette hums, not bothering to question that this couldn't have happened the previous night because Dick just came back from a trip that morning. And she's seen Jason without a broken arm the day before.
---
Next, she manages to catches Tim on his laptop in the dining hall. She looks at the stack of papers on the table, checking if he hasn't messed up signing any of them due to sleep deprivation.
"I saw Jay today. His arm is broken," Marinette says. "Any clue what happened to him?"
Tim sips on his coffee, not even blinking once. "Space dinosaurs. They got him last night and sent him off to the moon, I'm sure. Apparently one of them was a robot hybrid and their leader's a pterodactyl. He's lucky he got away with just a broken arm."
---
At that point, the responses don't even surprise Marinette anymore. What's amusing to her is that none of her siblings realize that they've given her conflicting answers.
She runs into Cass in the city and she brings up Jason's arm.
With a deadpan face, Cass replies, "He was being an idiot."
And she offers no additional explanation.
---
"Do both of you happen to know why Jason's arm is broken?" Marinette raises an eyebrow.
"Jason's arm is what now?!" Duke nearly spits out his drink.
"Yeah, I saw him this morning. It looked pretty bad."
Duke mumbles something about getting extra work because of that. Marinette looks at him with a mixture of confusion and pity.
"I know why!" Stephanie sips loudly on her straw. "You won't believe it. This drunk girl attacked him out of nowhere last night and twisted his arm!"
" . . . What?"
"His ego is in a worse state, trust me."
---
Finally---finally---Marinette manages to talk to Jason herself. She corners her after dinner time and points to the cast.
"What happened to you, Jay?"
"This?" His face scrunches up in an effort to find the perfect story. He gives up and says, "I fell on the stairs."
"You fell on the stairs?"
"Yup. I slipped and fell."
Marinette nods in understanding. "Will you be okay?"
"Don't worry, I'll be fine." He reassures her with a smile.
---
Of course, Marinette knows the real reason.
She was there when Jason broke his arm.
Inari watches carefully as Red Hood grapples to another ledge. A stray cat shrieks out of the blue, startles him, and he wobbles in his swing, giving him a bad landing.
The vigilante lays face down on the ground, grunting in pain.
Inari grimaces. "Ouch."
She puts on her earpiece and sends a distress signal to the location.
IX
Marinette flops face-down onto the couch, groaning.
"You okay there?" Duke asks.
She takes a seat properly, leaning on the cushions. One hand lifts to rub her lower abdomen. Duke nods understandingly.
"I'm gonna make some cup ramen a la Duke," he says. "Want me to make one for you too?"
"What's cup ramen a la Duke?"
"Just plain cup ramen with a twist." He shrugs.
She shifts around, feeling the pain in her lower back. "Sure, that'll be nice." Then, she narrows her eyes. "Wait, you're using the kitchen?"
"I'm just going to boil hot water and maybe fry some crab sticks," Duke explains. "That's easy enough right?"
Ah, the pains of being the only capable cook in this household, she laments. Besides Alfred.
"If you've seen what Damian can do to the kitchen, you'd be surprised," she deadpans.
"It's just instant noodles!"
". . . I'll let you know if I smell anything burning."
Fortunately, Duke pulls off a glorious miracle. He sets down the noodles and two pairs of chopsticks on the table before grabbing a blanket for her. Marinette's mouth waters at the sight. It's not anything too impressive, but she has to give him credit for the slightly charred crab sticks and dried seaweed on it.
"Thanks Duke." She yawns, rubbing one eye. "It looks nice."
Duke blows on the steam from his cup. "A college classic. I used to eat this while watching Netflix."
Marinette snorts out a laugh, imagining him curled up in bed with the ramen in one hand. "Next time, let's have these while watching some anime."
X
"So Pixie Pop." Jason stretches over the couch. "I heard you got saved by the vigilantes the other day."
"Yeah . . ." Marinette pauses on her controller and faces him. Is he fishing for a compliment?
"Did anyone in particular become your favorite vigilante?" He grins.
"Not really." She shrugs. "They're all mostly similar. Skintight suits, masks, hidden emotional issues."
"They are not similar," Damian scoffs. "They have different weapons and distinct personalities."
"What about Nightwing? I like Nightwing," Dick butts in.
"Him? He didn't really stand out," Marinette makes herself sound as bored as possible as she focuses on the game. Dick gasps, offended.
"It's Red Hood. Red Hood's pretty cool, huh?" Jason watches her closely.
Marinette wrinkles her nose. "Monsieur Bucket Head? Yeah, no thank you."
"Red Robin?" Tim looks up from his tablet.
"Weird cowl." Marinette sighs. "I don't understand why you're asking me right now."
"We all have our favorite vigilantes," says Stephanie, smirking at Tim's stunned expression. "As the baby of the family, you're the only one who doesn't have one."
"If I have to pick, Robin maybe?" Marinette replies.
"WHICH ROBIN?!" Her brothers chorus.
God, these idiots. "Um, I forgot there's a generational thing going on." She scratches the back of her head. "I wasn't around for the first, second and third ones . . . ooh, the girl one was awesome."
Stephanie beams.
"But I meant the current Robin."
Damian looks absolutely pleased.
"He's mastered being an edgelord."
Damian frowns.
Marinette passes the controller to Cass for her turn. "But it doesn't really matter for me. They're vigilantes, not celebrities. I don't have to be an avid fan of any one of them."
Clearly, her siblings aren't satisfied with that. They all have unreadable faces, grumbling to themselves or shooting daggers at Damian.
"What about Batman?" Bruce emerges by the doorway.
"Batman?" Marinette blinks. "Ah, him? He seems the weirdest."
The others choke on their laughs.
Bruce doesn't even hide his pain. "Why?"
"Like his voice? Why does he have to make it that low?" Marinette rants. "And he's been around for ages. He's probably ancient."
Her father leaves, muttering to himself while her siblings snicker in the background.
Chapter Text
XI
It has backfired on her.
Now her siblings are competing to earn her favor, plaguing her with their own vigilante alter egos.
"Look what I've got, Mari!" Dick calls out, bringing a dusty box to the couch.
She tilts her head as she looks up from her sketchbook.
"I found some Nightwing merch you might like." Dick preens. "You know, just in case you change your mind about your favorite vigilante."
She raises an eyebrow and looks into the box. Tumblers, caps, ballers, shirts, pins, stickers, keychains, bracelets. All in the theme of Nightwing. She refrains from asking why he has merchandise of himself.
Marinette gives a strained smile. "I understand that you're a fan and all, but I really don't get the appeal."
He makes a face. "You can take at least one."
She sighs and goes through the pile before digging out a Nightwing hoodie that looks comfy.
---
She thinks Jason won't care too much about being hailed the favorite but she's proven absolutely wrong. During one chat with him, he manages to slip it in the conversation.
"And then I told her that my sister makes better slippers!" Jason grins.
"You didn't!" She laughs.
"Speaking of that shop, apparently Red Hood fought off some thugs for the old lady." Jason takes a swig of his drink. "And he even threatened them not to go back!"
"Thats . . . that's cool."
"Right? He looks big and scary but he has a heart inside."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, and he helps out a lot of street kids too." He hastily adds: "I just heard about it."
---
Tim's approach is more passive-aggressive.
One morning when Marinette slips into the kitchen to make her coffee, she sees a rubber duck wedged between the coffee press and the cream. And it's not just a rubber duck. It's a rubber duck dressed as Red Robin.
The ducks follow her everywhere.
She catches one near her sewing machine, one pinned near a window where she usually works, another next to her baking supplies, inside her shoe, on her laptop. She only collects the ducks and makes them line up in her room.
But that's not all.
Themed advertisements begin to pop up whenever she uses her phone or laptop. The Red Robin symbol flickers every now and then at the corner of her screen.
Marinette frowns upon seeing another duck inside her purse. Damn your psychological harassment.
---
Damian is the most annoying one.
He springs out of nowhere and pops out a surprise attack whenever she's doing something. If Marinette's playing UMS Online, he'll stand in front of her screen and say, "Robin uses an awesome katana."
To which she replies, "Go away! I'm losing!"
He'll sit beside her during meals and state in a casual tone: "He has the best fighting skills out of all the others."
And she'll glower. "Not in front of my croissants, Damian."
He'll also accidentally 'run into' her whenever she's outside the manor. "It has come to my attention that he wants to cease being too much of an edgelord."
She'll walk past him. "Good thing to know."
What's worse is that Damian seems set on maintaining his 'favorite' status and is actively trying to sabotage the others' attempts.
When Marinette decides to slip on the Nightwing hoodie, she finds a Robin sticker stapled on top of the Nightwing logo.
Whenever Jason comes over and talks to her, Damian interrupts and the boys get into an argument.
Even the ducks aren't safe. Marinette sees a few re-dressed in a Robin getup.
Finally, after getting fed up with their stupid antics, she decides to end the war once and for all.
---
Bonus
Marinette taps her stylus on her tablet. The crossword puzzle sits unfinished on the screen.
She squints. "Seven letter word for best vigilante in Gotham?"
Stephanie raises her hand. "SPOILER!"
Duke perks up. "THE SIGNAL!"
"Duke, that's nine letters."
"Oh."
Marinette looks back at the description list. "Oops, it's actually six letters. My bad."
Cass smiles. "Orphan."
XII
Before the next family game night starts, Marinette strolls into the room carrying gift bags of different sizes. She greets the three early occupants inside.
"What are those?" Stephanie cranes her neck to get a better look.
"I had extra time so I decided to make these." Marinette let Duke help her setting the bags down at the foot of the couch. Cass peeks into one of the bags curiously.
"Vigilante-themed gifts." Marinette beams. "Since everyone's been so excited talking about their favorite vigilantes lately."
Stephanie laughs nervously. "Yeah, excited."
Marinette digs into a bright purple bag, fishing out a custom-made purse that's an obvious nod to Spoiler's theme. Steph gasps and gives her a bone-crushing hug.
The other gifts follow. She made a baggy graphic tee with an intricate artwork of Orphan for Cass. For Duke, she painted a pair of white Nikes to depict the Signal's colors.
"What did you get the others?" Duke asks, holding his shoes to his chest.
Marinette smirks. "You'll see."
---
The boys are quick to ask for their gifts when they arrived for game night. Dick receives a special lucky charm from her, which has a tiny trapeze trinket and a Nightwing bead.
"Extra luck when you need it," Marinette says to him. Dick wears it around his wrist immediately, swearing to keep it safe.
Jason's gift is the most intricate: an embroidered and studded leather jacket with Red Hood designs at the back and around the sleeves.
"Maybe Red Hood will like it if you ever meet him in person." Marinette steps back after confirming that it's a snug fit.
Jason clears his throat, choking up. "Ye--yeah he'll love this."
For Tim, she has crocheted two small ducks, one dressed as Red Robin and another as Tim in his office suit. Tim the Duck even has a coffee mug on its back. Marinette added metal rings so they double as keychains.
"My babies." Tim nods his approval and tucks them in his hoodie pocket.
----
Damian is the last one to receive his gift.
Marinette gently pulls out a picture frame from a box. "I didn't actually make this one," she explains, "but I got it commissioned instead. Since you have a massive crush on Robin---"
"---a what---"
"I had it made to suit your taste!"
She presents it to her brother: on the frame is a semi-realistic painting of Damian and Robin, where the latter is carried bridal style in the former's arms. Their gazes are locked in a romantic haze.
Marinette bounces on her heels. "And if you take the picture out there's a reader x Robin fanfiction at the back! Don't worry, it's a G.N. reader."
Damian stares down at the picture, speechless.
Her face falls. "Don't you like it?"
"I---I appreciate it," he manages to utter behind gritted teeth.
"I'm glad!" She nudges him on the side teasingly. "Don't be too embarrassed, Dames. It's okay to have a crush. You two look great together!"
XIII
Marinette's Chat Logs (A Compilation of Unrelated Messages)
11: 23
old but gold: istg this old man, he's too stubborn i was this close to smacking his face jay why cant he listen just once
Marinette: ??
old but gold: shit sorry mars! that was meant for jason
old but gold: pretend you never saw that
Marinette: had a fight with dad again?
old but gold: yeah
Marinette: want me to talk to him?
old but gold: nahhh we'll handle it ourselves
old but gold: thanks mars
Marinette: <3
---
14: 50
Marinette: pssst
Marinette: can i hide in your apartment
Peter Pan: where's the body
Peter Pan: what did u do
Marinette: why do you think i did something?
Peter Pan: because you're asking to hide in my apartment!!
Marinette: I'm omw
Peter Pan: what?? pixie
Peter Pan: pix??
Peter Pan: I'll help u hide the body
---
13: 34
Marinette: bitch ass
Murderous Duck: shitterisaurus
Murderous Duck: (affectionate)
---
10: 34
Marinette: [cat pic.png]
Marinette: [cute cat pic.png]
Marinette: [cat paws.gif]
Blood Son™: [picture of a cat.png]
Blood Son™: [picture of another cat.png]
12: 01
Blood Son™:Marinette please put your sketchbook away properly. It is currently under the bench in the back garden.
Blood Son™:Marinette get your sketchbook right now
Blood Son™: Marinette
Blood Son™:Marinette the pages and sticky notes have scattered. Alfred will have our heads for littering
Blood Son™:Titus is currently taking interest in the sketchbook
Marinette: DAMIAN
Marinette: IF TITUS MESSES WITH MY SKETCHBOOK U ARE DEAD
Marinette: IM NOT KIDDING
Marinette: WHERE THE FUCK ARE U
----
4: 30
Cass ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡: ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ੈ♡‧₊˚
Marinette: ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝
Cass ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡: (,,>﹏<,,)
Marinette: ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ
Cass ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡: go to bed
Marinette: no >:)
----
18: 33
Marinette: hey dad can i borrow your credit card?
Papa B: 👍
18:40
Papa B: Wait, where's your credit card?
---
14: 44
Marinette: I sent an email about the designs of your hoodie commission. did you see it?
Porpl: ALKJDSKAJDHFJS
Porpl: lsPSKGLDF;GKSKDKSLA;
Porpl: ILOVE IT!!!!!!!!!!!
Marinette: LSKDSKAJSFJ THANK YOU
Marinette: tell me if you want other stuff added
Porpl: i will thank you FKSJFKSKDFJKLSL xxxx
----
20: 58
Marinette: can i PLEASE get a waffle??!!
Lord Thomas: oh hi, thanks for checking in. I'm still a piece of garbage
21: 09
Marinette: um i've never been to oovoo javer
Lord Thomas: honey you've got a big storm comin'
21:15
Lord Thomas: stoooop i coulda dropped my croissant!!
Marinette: Hurricane Katrina? more like hurricane toRITillA
XIV
Marinette carefully lifts a piece of broccoli with her knife and fork and deposits it into Damian's plate. She manages to get in four pieces when he notices.
"Marinette."
She looks up at him. "Yeah?"
"What are you doing?"
"What, you like vegetables don't you?"
Damian sighs and sets down his fork. "Just because I have a preference for vegetables, it doesn't mean you should pass me yours at the expense of your health."
"But I wasn't planning on eating them anyway."
"Eat your vegetables."
Marinette ignores him, turning back to her plate to give the carrot sticks. At the same time, Dick, who's sitting to her left, passes her his broccolis.
She crinkles her nose and passes them to Damian.
"Aaah, I'm full!" Dick smiles triumphantly and stands up. He pats Damian on the head. "Don't forget to eat your vegetables, little D."
"Seriously?" Damian scowls, shoveling broccoli into his mouth.
XV
The weather's fair, her skirt feels comfy, and her brown locks are brushed to perfection. She smiles to herself as she and her partner make their way to their table in the outdoor restaurant.
It's a good day.
But at the corner of her eye, she spots a figure, a small black-haired girl dressed as a waiter. Dread begins to pool in his stomach.
It's not a good day.
Bernard tugs gently at her arm. "You reserved a nice place, Miss Hill."
She returns his smile. "Only the best for us of course."
They sit down and take their picks from the menu but Caroline's nerves does not ease off. She donned the disguise to have a peaceful day out with her boyfriend and not to be stalked by her devilish little sister.
"What can I get for you two?"
Caroline gapes at the sound of the voice. A horrendous bushy mustache sits on her (his?) upper lip and a pair of glasses accompanies the look.
"I'll have this one." Bernard points at the menu. "What about you, babe?"
Caroline scowls at the waiter, resisting a groan. "I'm still choosing . . . Mister . . ."
"Marino," the waiter supplies, gesturing to his nametag.
"Your nametag's upside down."
"Whoops." Marino flips it around with a low-toned giggle.
Caroline squints at it. "Marino Enyaw?"
Marino proudly twiddles with his mustache. "Quite a classy name, is it not?"
Caroline wants to facepalm. Meanwhile Bernard looks back and forth between the two of them, clearly confused.
Marino takes their orders and stumbles back to the counter. Caroline buries her face in her hands. "Bern, I'm so sorry about that."
"About what? He seems like a nice waiter."
Notes:
For additional context of part XV - Caroline Hill is an alter ego Tim dons to infiltrate a hospital as a med student. In this case, he uses the disguise to go out with Bernard without being hounded by the press/nosy people
Chapter 4: Parts 16-20
Chapter Text
XVI
The aura of the Pits is particularly strong today.
Marinette doesn't know if Jason's just in a mood, or there's something that upset him. Whatever it is, she can feel the lingering energies of destruction in him and she swears his eyes shifted to green at one point.
Maybe that's why he's in the manor right now? To keep himself calm?
That's when Marinette starts baking. She knows he likes muffins and cookies so she prepares a batch to give to him.
She spots him wordlessly scrolling through his phone on the couch. Though he pretends to be relaxed, his whole figure is tense and his leg is bouncing.
"Hey Jay, want some snacks?" she gives the warm pastries to him.
He gives her a bright smile. "Thanks, Pixie."
---
Later that afternoon, she finds him curled up in the library with the book. The aura has gotten smaller, but its presence is still strong. She picks a book off the shelf and moves over to him.
"Mind if I read next to you?" she asks.
He looks up from his book, eyebrows raised. "Sure."
She doesn't normally read long books, but she finds her picture book on fashion interesting. Jason also seems immersed in his own reading so she sits in silence with him.
---
"What's with you sticking to me the whole day?" Jason asks when she finds him in the gardens.
"You're not home in the manor most of the time so I figured I needed to spend the day with you," Marinette lied.
"Is that the only reason?"
She sighs. "Okay, I noticed you were feeling down and I wanted to cheer you up."
He chuckles. "You've got some weird intuition there."
"What do you mean?"
"Nevermind." He shrugs. "Thank you, Pix. I feel better now."
And the aura has receded.
XVII
Marinette summons the portal, detransforms, groans, and jumps headfirst into the bed. Her friends don't bat an eye, continuing to prepare for their movie morning and passing around the popcorn.
"What's the matter?" Luka turns to her.
"I want a break as Inari but I'm still worried about my brothers." Marinette groans again.
Chloe scoffs. "Forget about them. They can handle themselves for one night."
"Yeah, it's not like they'll hurt themselves if you're not there," Adrien quips, shoving cotton candy into his mouth.
Marinette suddenly pales in dread. Kagami nudges Adrien for the remark.
"Just focus on yourself tonight, Marinette. Your family will be fine," Kagami assures.
"I'm playing the movie," Juleka says, crawling over to the big screen. Marinette bites her lip and scoots over next to Felix, who puts his arm around her.
But not even ten minutes into the movie, Marinette is bombarded with worries. The skin in her arm tingles and she sits up straight.
"What's wrong?" Felix whispers.
"I feel a disturbance in the force---no wait." She shivers. "In Gotham."
---
Somewhere in central Gotham city, a certain vigilante trips on one of his fallen escrima sticks.
---
Marinette leans back, massaging her head. "Nevermind. I'm just paranoid."
The movie continues and so does her nerves. She tries to focus on the screen but she can't help but think of the thousands of ways patrol night can go wrong without her.
She sneezes and shudders again. "Why do I suddenly have the urge to hit someone upside the head?"
---
"Cass! 'M gonna go on patrol!" Stephanie slurs, sloppily tugging her hood over her head.
"Me too! Me too!" Tim giggles, reaching for his weapons.
Cass frowns. "You're both drunk. We're on patrol break tonight."
"No way!" Stephanie hiccups. "Jus . . . tice . . . never takes a break!"
"Race you to Wayne Tower!" Tim cheers. His cowl is misaligned and he stumbles every other second.
"No racing---"
But it's too late. The two run out to who knows where, laughing into the night. Cass gets her phone out to alert Bruce and the others.
---
"Make that two heads I want to smack," Marinette mutters as the ominous feeling doesn't fade.
Felix squeezes her shoulder and pulls her closer. She forces herself to clear her head. I definitely have to check up on them later.
XVIII
The problem with babysitting your siblings during patrol is that they get reckless. Just because there's an unknown force saving them without them realizing it, they get complacent.
For example, they lose their fair share of Batarangs.
More specifically, Damian loses a lot of Batarangs.
Inari scowls when she finds another one sitting near the edge of a rooftop. Isn't a Batarang supposed to come back to you?! Why don't you ever pick up after yourself Robin?
She slips it into her collection and jumps down into a street to follow Robin. Casting her invisibility, she waits until he's in an alley with a dead end before flicking the blades one by one.
Fwoop.
One pins down the corner of his cape. Robin halts, pinned into place. "What---" He draws his sword. "Who's there?!"
Fwoop. Fwoop. Fwoop.
Before he can register what's happening, more Batarangs fly by, attaching him to the wall until he can no longer move. His katana drops to the ground when one of the Batarangs catch his gloves and trap him to the wall.
"Show yourself!" Robin growls.
Inari doesn't move from her hiding place. Instead, she snaps a photo with her staff and turns on her earpiece to secretly tune in the family comms line. Unfortunately for Robin, he's not able to turn on his comms.
"Has anybody heard from Robin?" Batman asks.
Inari watches with amusement as Robin tries to reach for his ear but fails miserably.
"He went west, right?" Says Red Robin.
"Red Hood, you're nearest. Check in on his location."
Inari grins and leans back to wait for Jason. Red Hood drops into the alley in no time, takes one look at Robin, and doubles over laughing.
"What---what happened to you?!" Red Hood cackles.
"They appeared out of nowhere!" Robin struggles against the Batarangs. "I am guessing that they are my lost Batarangs."
Red Hood snorts. "They came back to haunt you?"
"This is not a laughing matter, Hood! Free me!"
Red Hood snickers. "Hold on a sec." He puts a finger to his helmet. "Hey, Replacement? Yeah, I did. You have to come here . . . No I won't say why. Just come here."
Next, it's Red Robin's turn to laugh at Robin, who glares and flails.
"Take these away!" Robin yells.
"Yeah, yeah, in a minute." The two vigilantes move to his side and Red Robin snaps a quick photo.
Inari smiles to herself proudly. Lesson learned, Damian.
XIX
"If the manor's really haunted, B's going to flip."
"Why are you saying it's haunted? It's obviously magic!"
Marinette freezes, seeing her brothers bickering in front of Tim's laptop. Her eyes widen at the mention of 'haunted' and 'magic'.
"What's going on?" she asks Dick and Tim.
Both boys share a silent conversation as they look at each other. Probably deeming it safe to tell her, Tim turns his laptop around to show her a video from the manor cameras.
It begins with the front driveway. Something that looks like a piece of cheese hovers and disappears slowly midair. Then the ballroom. Two socks fly by at record speed. Marinette nearly misses them, but the video shifts to slow motion.
Oh, shit.
Her fists clench at her pockets. She's going to have a talk with two kwamis later.
"The house is haunted?" She tries her best to look concerned.
"We think so." Tim nods somberly. "We'll have to call the Ghostbusters."
Dick rubs his head. "No, I'll call Za---err, one of our friends who can deal with this. Don't tell B or else he'll be in control freak mode again."
When Dick leaves, Marinette turns to Tim. "Maybe they're ghosts out for vengeance."
"Yeah, I'd haunt this manor too."
XX
Marinette looks around the breakfast table. It's too peaceful. At least for the Wayne Family. She stabs her eggs with her fork and raises her voice above the chatter.
"Hey Dad, what do you do every night?"
The entire table turns quiet as Bruce looks up from his plate. "What do you mean?"
Marinette shrugs. "I just notice you slip out of the manor every night. What do you do outside?"
She notices most of her siblings making subtle nervous ticks at the thought of their secret coming out to her. Bruce coughs. "Well, that's . . . it's a secret matter, sweetheart."
Marinette nods in understanding, taking a sip of her tea. "I honestly thought you've stopped your 'nightly adventures' because you're with Selina now. You're perfect for each other."
"Wait, what?"
"Yeah!" She rolls her eyes. "I'm not a kid. I know what adults do at night. I'm trusting you're using protection because there's so much of us already."
Her siblings watch with eagerness and amusement, not saying a thing as she grills Bruce. Stephanie's eyes are twinkling. Damian wears an arched eyebrow. Tim is snorting milk out of his nose.
"I think you're misunderstanding," Bruce denies weakly. "I'm not---"
"No, it's okay! It's nothing to be ashamed of. Totally normal."
Her father squirms. "But it's not what you think---"
"He definitely goes around the city, Mars." Dick chimes in happily. "Oh, and sometimes, he does a little dress-up if you catch my drift."
"Gross. Did not need to know that." Marinette shudders. "Dad, just make sure to take care of Selina too, okay? I like her a lot."
"But---"
"And if you're going out tonight, try to be more discreet okay?"
Chapter 5: Parts 21-25
Chapter Text
XXI
Bernard peeks into the lounge, expecting to see Tim, but instead he finds a petite girl sitting behind a desk. Her eyes are shielded behind a pair of sunglasses, complementing her two-piece suit.
“Sorry.” He shyly backs away. “I’m looking for Tim?”
“Sit down.” The girl motions to the empty chair in front of the table.
After a quick scan of the room, Bernard hesitantly sits. He finds the girl familiar, but he can’t put a finger on it.
“So, Mr. Bernardo Howdy—”
“It’s actually Bernard Dowd—”
She nods. “Mr. Bernard Dowd. I understand that you are currently in a romantic relationship with my client, Timothy Jackson Caroline Drake-Wayne—”
“Wait, Caroline isn’t his—”
“And I am here to ensure that you are treating him as he deserves and I shall administer the ‘Spade Conversation’ on you.”
“Spade Conversation? Oh, you mean like a shovel talk?”
“Layman’s terms. Potato, potahto.” She waves her hand.
“Umm, sorry, who are you again?”
She lowers her glasses a tad bit, revealing her narrowed piercing blue eyes. “Last name: Wayne. First Name: Marinette ‘Marino’ Dupain-Cheng.”
“Tim’s sister!” Bernard’s eyes widened in recognition. “I don’t think we’ve met before. But you seem really familiar.”
She clears her throat. “Perhaps you’re mistaking me for someone else. First question, what do you feel about space dinosaurs that are robot hybrids?”
He looks down on the piece of paper she’s writing on. “Is that a receipt from Batburger? And a crayon?”
“My materials are irrelevant in these discussions. So, space dinosaurs?”
“Err—they sound pretty cool?”
Marinette hums and scribbles down a doodle on the receipt. “Question two. In the case of my client’s extreme sleep deprivation, what are your contingency plans?”
“Hmm, I usually get him to come cuddle with me and I try to take away his coffee. He falls asleep quickly after that.” Bernard smiles a little. “Did I get that right?”
“It shall still be deliberated by the panel of shovellers—”
Suddenly, the door bursts open, revealing a dishevelled and alarmed Tim. Marinette squeaks and hides her things.
Tim groans. “I was about to tell you not to go to the manor!” He glares at his sister. “What the hell were you doing?”
“I wasn’t doing anything!” Marinette brings her arms up. “Just a proxy for the head shoveller!”
“Who the heck is head shoveller?!”
“That information’s classified!”
A grumbling Tim takes Bernard by the hand and tugs him out of the room. Bernard waves goodbye to Marinette, entertained by her stunt.
XXII
They’re mumbling amongst themselves, but Marinette has a hunch on what they’re talking about. Her father, Babs, and Tim are looking more into what happened in Paris and they probably want to ask her about it since she comes from the city. Their problem is that they can’t be too suspicious when they ask me.
Finally, they approach her. Bruce sits across from her, while both Barbara and Tim share a laptop.
“Marinette, we wanted to ask a few things about Paris,” Bruce begins. “For—for business. We have a branch in the city and we’re concerned about the aftermath of the Hawkmoth thing.”
Tim doesn’t even hide his facepalm.
“Sure, what do you guys want to know?”
Barbara takes over. “For starters, what can you tell us about the Miraculouses? It’s still unclear about how the magic works.”
Marinette hears Tim mutter under his breath: “Real subtle, guys.”
“The Miraculouses? Let me see . . .” Marinette taps her chin. “Which Miraculous specifically?”
“The Black Cat. Let’s start with that.”
“Ooh, the ring of the Black Cat. That one’s unpredictable. Chat gets these insane side effects and he practically becomes a cat! I saw him cough up a hairball once and I’m pretty sure he does the slow blinking thing. Ah, and when you wear that ring, you automatically get a cheese scent on you.”
Barbara stops typing and readjusts her glasses. “That’s—that’s not in the records . . .”
“Are you sure about this, Mari?” Tim asks.
“Absolutely. Chat usually stops by my place before. I’d prepare a box for him.”
“You never told me that.” Bruce frowns.
“Okay, next. What about the Turtle? The one with the shield?” Barbara says.
“There’s a special ritual you have to do before the shield power can work,” Marinette cheerily explains. “You have to wear a shell hat on the week before you plan to use the power and walk really slowly to channel the power of the Turtle. Sometimes it works. Sometimes, it doesn’t. It really depends. Apparently, if you wear a bulletproof vest, it works better.”
“I see . . .” Tim drums his fingers on his knee. “And the Butterfly Miraculous?”
“I don’t know a lot about it because Hawkmoth was a crazy recluse.” Marinette sighs. “Ladybug confirmed some side effects though: a bald head, a disgusting fashion taste on the suit itself and the akumas, an overwhelming urge to–quote, unquote–’yeet’ children, and a streak of failure if the Miraculous is used for evil.”
“All the information you said is new to us, sweetheart. Are you really sure about this?” Bruce questions, evidently unconvinced.
Marinette leans back with a hidden mischievous grin. “Trust me. I’m an expert.”
XXIII
Set Post-Hawkmoth defeat, but before Mari moves in with the Waynes.
When Ladybug and Chat Noir arrive at the headquarters, a few Justice League members come to meet them. The two Parisian heroes can’t help but notice that the JL are feeling a little off. Tired, restless or slightly distressed.
“Why do I have a feeling you know something about this?” Chat whispers to Ladybug.
“Umm—”
“I’m doing homework right now.” Marinette props her legs up to her chest, adjusting the camera of her tablet so she can see the video call properly. “Do you happen to know anyone I can ask for help?”
“On what subject, sweetie?” Bruce asks.
“Uhh, a lot. Here, I’ll send a list to you.”
Her father hums as he scans the list. “What about your brothers?”
She wrinkles her nose. “Them? No. Not them. Any other suggestions? Do you want to help me?”
“I wish I could. Unfortunately, I have meetings lined up for the next few days. I’ll send you some contacts of mine to help.” Bruce types on his laptop. “I’ll let them know ahead of time that you’ll be calling.”
“Cool. Thanks, Dad.” Marinette looks up and gawks at the names on the list. Did he seriously send these. . .?
“I’ll tell you about it later,” Ladybug whispers back.
“I am glad that you can join us, Ladybug.” Wonder Woman steps forward and takes her hand. “The Paris situation may be solved but there are still a lot of things to take care of.”
Ladybug guiltily notes her lack of energy.
“Hello? Auntie Diana?” Marinette says after warily dialing the number.
“Marinette! Bruce said that I’ll be able to help with your History homework.” Diana says. “Ask away, dear.”
“Right, let’s see . . .”
As it turns out, she’s not any better of a teacher than Plagg. While Marinette appreciated her rambles about her own adventures, she only needs the gist of the progression of industrialization in Europe. She still patiently listens for a couple hours, however.
“You both seem so young,” Superman mumbles from his seat while hunched over a notepad.
Ladybug hides her wince. “Yeah, we get that a lot.”
“We first started when we were thirteen.” Chat casually stretches. She elbows his side.
“Uncle Clark? I got this article-writing homework . . . We have to write an essay about the Paris tragedies.”
“But that’s such a broad topic!”
“I know! I complained too, since it can bring up some traumatic memories for my classmates, but our teacher won’t budge.” Marinette shudders.
“Alright, first you have to . . .” Clark Kent then proceeds to spill his waterfall of ideas, which Marinette knows will exceed the maximum word count.
“And—wait a minute, I can just write it for you!”
“Huh? But Uncle C—”
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll have it done before your deadline.”
Something tells Marinette that he’ll be neglecting his civilian job for a while.
“Thirteen? Who allowed you children to fight a terrorist at that age?” Green Arrow frowns.
The Parisian duo sigh at the same time.
“Okay! Thanks for helping me with Physics, Uncle Ollie.” Marinette adds the units of her answer at last. “One last thing, do you mind if I ask you a bit about Math?”
“What is it?”
“It’s pretty long. Uhh, wait a sec, I’ll send you a picture.”
“What’s with these messy solutions? The answer’s wrong. You have to do it this way . . .”
“But Uncle Bars said—”
“Barry? Nevermind what he said. I’ll send in the right solutions.”
The Flash is giving the archer the stink eye. “We’re here to talk about Paris, not about their ages or qualifications.”
“Hello—”
“Marinette! You asked Oliver about your Math homework?!”
“Yeah, I just wanted a second opinion—”
“But my answer is correct!”
“Uncle Ollie said no, though . . .”
“Argh! Just wait, I’m gonna run over to him. He’s simplifying the stuff that can’t be canceled out! I already told him!”
When Ladybug fidgets a little, Chat gives her a look of suspicion. She thinks about not telling him what transpired in the span of twenty-four hours.
“How old are you both now? Seventeen? Eighteen?” Aquaman butts in to ask them. “Is an Atlantean diorama a good school project? It is, right?”
“So Uncle Art, I was thinking of having an aquaponics project for my—”
“Ha! How nice to see you curious about Atlantean culture!”
“Wait, I said aquaponics—”
“You can quote me, the king himself! What do you want to know?”
Ladybug fights back a groan and a scowl towards Batman, who’s busy working on the computer. This is all Dad’s fault.
BONUS:
“Marinette, what grade did you get for that essay?”
“. . . A fifteen out of twenty.”
“Fifteen? Out of twenty?! She gave an extensive essay written by Clark Kent, proofread by Lois Lane a fifteen out of twenty?!”
XXIV
“We already told you! Show her you care, give her not just gifts but time and effort. Make an indication that your memories with her are precious!” Stephanie brandishes the nail polish brush before returning to paint Bruce’s pinky nail.
“What if it doesn’t work after that?”
“That means you’re not doing it right.” Marinette sorts through the face masks for them to wear. “Hold on, Dad! Your skin is so dry! Didn’t we already remind you to moisturize?!”
“I bet that’s why Selina’s giving him the cold shoulder.” Jason sniggers as he sinks his feet deeper into his foot bath.
Cass silently passes Marinette a moisturizing cream, which Marinette waves in front of Bruce’s face. “Go wash with your cleanser and put this on later.” She plucks out a packet of mask from their collection. “Cucumber for you?”
“I’ll switch to coconut please,” Bruce mumbles.
XXV
“Try me, bitch, I dare you.” Tim looks at Dick in the eye. “What color?”
Dick narrows his eyes. “Blue.”
“Ha!” Tim slaps down a plus two.
“You can’t stack!” Marinette protests.
“No! In this house we stack!” Tim cries out. “Take the L Mari or add to the pile.”
“What is ‘stacking’?” Damian asks, rearranging his cards. Stephanie leans sideways to explain to him.
“No, I’m not backing down.” Marinette puts down another plus two of her own. “Take eight, Duke.”
“No thanks.” Duke adds to the pile.
“No way!” Jason groans and starts getting ten cards out of the deck. “I’m getting revenge on all of you!”
“Uno,” Cass says calmly and drops one of her last two cards.
Chapter 6: Parts 26-30
Chapter Text
XXVI
Set Post-Hawkmoth defeat, before Marinette moves in with the Waynes
Marinette’s sanity is hanging on fraying ends. The Justice League have all arrived in Paris (in civilian form) to discreetly take a look at the situation post-Hawkmoth’s defeat. Her father had to attend to urgent business and just left her with his colleagues so she can ‘tour’ them around the city (read: so they can watch over her).
She has one problem: Ladybug is supposed to attend the celebration parade and give a speech.
And she knows the JL will burn the world before they let her out of their sight.
Marinette guides the adults near an empty street and faces them, taking a deep breath. “I can’t take this anymore,” she says. “I’m late to the parade. Aunties, Uncles, I know your secret identities.”
They all stare at her dumbfoundedly.
Barry opens his mouth to speak but she puts her hand up. “I know that because I’m Ladybug, and I have to be in the parade across the city to deliver my speech!”
Clark’s eyes widen behind his glasses. “Your father doesn’t know about this?”
She shakes her head. “None from my family know. That’s why I want you guys to promise not to tell Dad or any of my siblings.” Marinette heaves a big breath, hearing her phone incessantly vibrate from Chat’s texts. “Imagine how paranoid Dad will be if he finds out.”
The group nods in sync.
“Okay, good. Now, I have to go to that parade . . .”
“I can take you!” Barry volunteers.
“We can fly,” Clark offers.
“Or swim,” Arthur says.
Marinette groans. It’s going to be a long day.
XXVII
Inari jolts when she hears that Batman will be coming over for a JL meeting—pieces of popcorn fall from her bucket and she desperately tries to clean it all up. She’s been hanging around the HQ whenever she wants a break from the chaotic manor, occasionally giving her opinions on matters whenever the other members ask for her advice.
“Auntie Di! You didn’t say he was coming!” She whines, picking the popcorn that wedged into the couch.
“It’s a meeting for all members, dear. Of course he’s coming.”
“Gah, I wouldn’t have come if I knew!” One of her fox ears twitches.
“We’re still up for that round of UMS later, right Mars?”
“Yeah, sure Uncle Bars.”
“Are you going to stay here?” Wonder Woman asks.
“I might as well stay.” She flicks away stray kernels. “It’s like ‘take your kid to work’ day but he doesn’t know it.”
Inari casts her invisibility, bolts off to a corner near the meeting table and hides just in time Batman enters the room.
—
Inari stands and listens to the meeting patiently, afraid that if she makes a move or a sound, she can get caught. Of course, she trusts the JL to keep the secret from her Dad and family, but she feels like she has to keep an eye on them this time.
“About the Parisian heroes,” says Batman in the middle of their meeting, “I think we need to be more hands-on in dealing with the recovery of Paris and investigating the guardians.”
“What a stupid-ass decision,” Inari mumbles under her breath.
Superman suddenly chokes out a half-laugh. Inari pales at the same time, forgetting that her Uncle C can hear her.
“Are you alright?” Aquaman asks.
“Yes. Continue please.”
“I thought we already had an agreement with Ladybug not to interfere with the Miraculouses and Paris,” Wonder Woman says.
Damn right, Auntie Di. Inari nods.
—
Inari internally curses when she sees the message on her staff. Her Uncle Art just gave her an interesting offer and she can’t resist. Keeping her illusion on, she creeps towards the table, takes one of her Uncle Ollie’s arrows and sneaks up towards Batman’s seat.
She carefully pins the arrow on the floor, trapping the base of his cape to the floor.
Finally, as she inches away and records the whole thing, the JL concludes their meeting. Batman tries to stand up but gets pulled down because of the arrow. The others mask their snickers.
“Oliver!” He growls.
Green Arrow raises his arms up defensively. “I was here the whole time.”
XXVIII
Marinette puts on a serious face in front of her huddled siblings. “I know we always mess around during galas, but this time, please. Act. Normal. Understand?”
Stephanie raises her hand. “Define normal.”
“Normal as in do not embarrass yourselves or me.” Marinette crosses her arms over her handmade dress.
The others give her casual nods or sounds of agreement before they break away from the group. Bruce is already entertaining some of the guests, sneaking worried glances at the boys every five seconds.
Meanwhile, Marinette takes a deep breath and fixes her curls. She steps towards her date when both Tim and her father block her view to up a conversation with the boy.
No! Tim! Dad! She groans internally. Minding her high heels, she stalks over to the refreshments table to eavesdrop on the two. Marinette bends down and peeks from the edge of the tablecloth with narrowed eyes.
“So about Marinette . . .” Tim raises an eyebrow. “You never mentioned your relationship with her during our discussion about the business deal.”
The blonde boy responds coolly. “I did not want to give off the impression that I am only involved with her to curry favor with Wayne Industries.”
“And knowing the danger to your reputation, you still proceeded with the partnership?” Bruce asks with a faux smile.
“If you see the deal as a reason to doubt my loyalty to Marinette, then I can back out if you want. My family’s company can stand on its own.”
Bruce seems surprised with the boy’s answer. Marinette pumps her fist. As expected from mon amour. She stands up with a satisfied grin and gets ready to cut into the conversation—
“What are you doing?” Stephanie whispers next to her ear.
Marinette shrieks loudly and stumbles forward. But instead of meeting the cold hard floor and humiliating herself entirely, she’s caught by two strong arms. She opens her eyes, locking them with familiar gray ones.
“Fe—Fe,” she stutters, face heating up.
He gives her a charming smile. “Marinette. I was waiting for you.”
All the while, her family members are scrutinizing the scene. Marinette blushes harder and drags her boyfriend to the dance floor, knowing that he will be subjected to the Waynes’ silent criticisms.
She puts her arms around Felix’s neck and sways along with the music.
“So—sorry for that,” she breathes out, resting her forehead on his chest. “They’re such a handful. But I think you impressed my dad.”
“Hard to say, considering your brothers and father seem to be staring daggers at me.” He presses a gentle kiss on her head.
“Please ignore them.” Marinette clutches him tighter. “Missed you. I’m so glad you went.”
“I missed you too, my love.”
XXIX
On days Marinette doesn’t feel like donning the fox and cat, she takes the Mouse pendant and escapes into the deep cracks of Gotham. Partly for stress relief, partly to associate with more people.
She transforms and splits into three copies: Multimari, Minimari, and Marimouse.
---
Multimari finds her first target (victim?) in a nearby alley. She drops onto his shoulder and dusts off her suit.
“Eddie, I told you to stop wearing that hideous suit,” she scolds. “I am one second away from designing you a new one!”
“Oh, hello mousey,” The Riddler greets. “I like the patterns in this one.”
“The question marks? Please.”
“But it’s a suit! Doesn’t it look dapper?”
“Horrible. It looks horrible.” Multimari grabs on as he moves around. “What are you up to anyway?”
“Setting up traps for the dear Bats of course,” the villain hums and bustles around. Multimari looks around. There’s an array of random things scattered around.
“Gross, you’re going to see the Bats wearing that?” She tuts.
---
Minimari slides down a leaf inside the botanical gardens. She’s caught by Harley Quinn just in time before she falls completely. Harley gasps in excitement. “Mousey! We’re about to have dinner!”
“Oops!” Minimari giggles. “Thanks for that Harley. And isn’t it midnight right now?”
“Never too late to eat! We’ve got alcohol.” Harley brings her to the table. “Pammy look who came to visit!”
“I heard.” Poison Ivy beams. “Haven’t seen you in a while, mouse.”
“Sorry. Got too busy.” Minimari scratches the back of her neck. “Three plates?”
“Kitty’s joining us. Girl talk and all,” Harley replies.
Minimari nods. She knows Selina is Catwoman, but Catwoman herself hasn’t suspected her identity at all. Harley puts her down on the tabletop and gives her a crumb from one of the muffins to munch on.
Catwoman saunters into the place. “Sorry I’m late. Had to steal something real quick.” She glances down on the table. “Hey mousey.”
Minimari gives a salute, instinctively shuddering at Catwoman’s joking predatory smile.
“Pfft, you mean flirt with your boyfriend.” Harley rolls her eyes.
“More or less.” Catwoman shrugs. “So mousey, how’ve you been lately darling?”
“Same old, same old.” Minimari takes a small chocolate chip for herself. She freezes and blinks rapidly all of a sudden.
“What’s wrong?” Ivy asks.
Minimari makes a face. “One of my copies is in trouble.”
---
Marimouse isn’t in trouble per se, but she’s gotten into a situation. As she’s heading to stalk the Iceberg Lounge, she accidentally falls down the drainage and ends up on the head of Killer Croc.
Killer Croc notices her and begins clawing at his head. She shrieks along with him. “No, wait! I’m not—aaaaah!”
He growls and stomps on the ground when she finally gets off.
“I come in peace!” Marimouse holds her hands up. But she jumps out of the way, when he tries to step on her again.
“Dang it! Mice belong to the sewers, you know!” She scoffs.
XXX
Bruce positions himself on the mat in front of Marinette. She shakes her hands to relieve tension, careful not to loosen the bandages wrapped around her knuckles. Then, she tightens her ponytail and rolls her shoulders.
Basic self defense. That’s what Bruce wants to teach her. She didn’t even know they had a gym in the manor until that day. Her father was insistent for her to learn because of potential kidnappings, being a Wayne.
As if I can’t defend myself even out of costume, she sighs.
“Remember to relax, but not too much,” Bruce instructs. “Try again.”
Marinette curls her hand into a fist and punches the air loosely.
Bruce’s expression falters, obviously not wanting to tell her that she didn’t do good. “Another one, sweetie. Imagine there’s a bad man in front of you who wants to hurt you.”
She throws another punch, purposely making her movement flimsy to not draw suspicion.
“Okay . . .” Bruce frowns.
The door creaks open to reveal Damian delivering bottles of water. He looks back and forth between the two of them. “How is her progress?”
“She’s . . . learning.” Bruce clears his throat. “Mari, why don’t you try with Damian and he can help give you tips?”
“I’ll just punch him?” Marinette quizzes.
“Yes. Remember, aim properly, keep your stance steady and pull your hand back to defend right away.”
She nods, biting back an eager smile. “Okay. Got it.”
Marinette punches Damian—for real this time. She gives him a direct fist to the gut, making him double over and wheeze in pain. His eyes grow wide as he grunts, nearly dropping the two bottles. She swears she hears him let out a curse in Arabic.
She turns to her father. “How was that?”
Bruce’s face shows nothing but pride. “Amazing.”
Chapter 7: Parts 31-35
Chapter Text
XXXI
Marinette just finished a multi-purpose robin-themed hoodie. Though it’s mainly fashioned after Damian’s suit, she included features from the previous Robins.
But she’s not satisfied. Not yet. To solve her restlessness, she hatches a plan, sneaks down to the Batcave, and sets up a camera.
---
The timing is impeccable. Her brothers go down to the Batcave together and see their new suits at the same time.
Dick gasps in delight. Jason looks terrifyingly disgusted. Tim stares blankly at his new clothing.
They all come out simultaneously. Dick admires his upsized Robin suit, an exact replica of his old one. He laughs and does a twirl. “Damn, my ass looks great in this.”
Jason comes out scowling. He’s wearing his helmet still, but his usual getup is replaced by his skintight Robin outfit. Marinette stifles her laughs. “Where the hell did my jacket go?”
When Tim slides out, he has his cape wrapped around him like a blanket. “It’s kind of cold in this.”
Dick looks over to where Damian hid to change. “At least Little D still has his own suit—”
Dick, Tim and Jason burst out guffawing when Damian steps out. Instead of his usual suit, he has a Discowing outfit, complete with the deep V-neckline and high collar. The glare he sends the others transcends hell.
Marinette smiles to herself, making a mental note to edit herself into the picture with them.
XXXII
Marinette flicks one of her bunny ears. She hasn’t worn the Rabbit in years. Is it possible to be rusty with a Miraculous? She huffs.
She opens up the burrow haphazardly. She has a mission to do.
It’s frightening to think what a Domino effect can do. In normal cases, she will not resort to using the Rabbit Miraculous, but she's running on an ungodly amount of sleep and doesn’t know what to do.
See, Titus just found her precious commissions and saw fit to make the shirts his new toys. And that only happened because Tim accidentally lit his chew toy on fire. Which only happened because Damian misplaced said chew toy. Which only happened because he was busy arguing with Jason one day. And Jason was set off in a bad mood because Bruce took him off vigilante privileges (even going as far as to steal his helmet, weapons, and suit). Her Dad only got irked because he thought Jason was behind a prank in his office.
A prank which Marinette herself initiated.
She finds the right timeline and squeezes into the hole. Unfortunately, it lands right inside Batcow’s barn. She puts a finger up to her lips to keep it from earning Alfred’s attention and sneaks off to the inside of the manor.
Marinette runs to her father’s office, detransforms and bursts inside. “Dad, don’t open that drawer!”
Bruce, in the middle of opening that exact drawer, pauses. “What drawer? I thought you were asleep sweetheart.”
She does a double take. Wait, the string’s not there! The prank’s not in place yet! She checks her pocket watch. True enough, past Marinette is still yet to set up her diabolical plan.
“Nevermind!” She squeaks and shuts the door abruptly.
She dashes through the hall and intercepts her former self (who’s heading to the office). Marinette shakes Past Marinette’s shoulders. “Whatever you do, don't pull off that prank! Your commissions! Our commissions! Uncle Jagged!”
Past Marinette blinks sleepily. “Future Mari? How do I know you’re really me?”
Marinette stares at herself dead in the eye. “Four years ago. At Musée Grévin—”
Her duplicate’s eyes bug out. “Okay! Okay! I get it! Won’t do the prank anymore! Promise!”
At that second, Marinette senses a presence near them. Both Marinettes freeze and turn to their side, where the kitchen is in view. Tim stares back at them, pouring coffee directly on the top of the island rather than his mug.
“I . . . I should get some sleep instead,” Tim mutters.
XXXIII
Marinette is in a panic.
They’re supposed to visit the Kents in a few hours and she forgot that her Uncle Clark knows about her. She makes a mad dash to the privacy of her room and looks for his number.
“Uncle C!” She squeaks out when he picks up, spilling everything out in one breath. “Can you maybe keep quiet about my identity during the picnic ‘cause I haven’t told Dad and the others and make sure Conner and Jon and Aunt Lois keep quiet too in case they know?”
Thankfully, Clark is able to get all of that. “Sure, Marinette. I’m sure your family won’t bring up vigilante work anyway because you’re there.”
She sighs in relief. “Yeah, but just in case. Thanks Uncle C.”
---
While her Uncle Clark is subtle about her and her family’s identities, he’s not subtle about his. He keeps disappearing during the family picnic, running off to multiple emergencies. She feels sorry for him; being Superman means having your hands full after all.
She spreads the jam on her bread and bites into it. Clark stands up for the fifth time, earning everyone’s eyes. “Sorry, I gotta go again. This’ll be quick,” he waves and goes back to the house.
Marinette munches on her sandwich. “Uncle’s awfully busy today.”
Without batting an eye, Bruce speaks up. “He has hemorrhoids.”
Conner nearly chokes on his cake while Jon’s eyes widen. Lois releases a huff of slightly amused laughter through her nose. Ma and Pa Kent exchange glances.
“Is that so?” Marinette raises an eyebrow. “Is that why you run out to emergencies too, Dad?”
Bruce scoffs. “Of course not. I always have work.”
“Yeah, yeah, as if you don’t go check on your Beanie Babies whenever you think they’ve been messed with.”
“You have Beanie Babies?!” Dick exclaims.
“He bought a rare one for half a million one time in an auction.” Tim nods.
Marinette’s sure that the red tinting Bruce’s cheeks aren’t from sunburn.
XXXIV
Marinette finishes slipping on her shoes at the same time the doorbell rings. She races towards it, giddiness pumping in her chest.
But Jason beats her to it.
He opens the door and easily covers the path with his stature. Marinette’s face twists into a scowl. Jason leans on the doorframe. “Name, age, occupation, intentions with my sister?”
Before the visitor can reply, Marinette pulls Jason away, growling, “Felix Graham de Vanily, eighteen, my fucking boyfriend, here to take me out on a date!”
“Hmp.” Jason crosses his arms.
“I already told you about our plans!” She raises her voice. “Wait—did you just go to the manor for this? Weren’t all of you done with your shovel talk?!”
Jason examines his fingernails. “Were we?”
She waves him away. “Go away, Jason.”
He turns to Felix. “Have her home by—”
“Nine p.m. sharp, I know.” Felix says coolly.
Damian pops out of nowhere with his katana. “Keep her safe or else I will skewer you!”
“Damian!” Marinette hisses. “Not the family heirloom!”
The boy grumbles under his breath after Felix makes the promise. Marinette pushes both her brothers away and shuts the door behind her. Felix smiles, takes her hand, and bends down to press a featherlight kiss on her knuckles. “Mademoiselle.”
Her grin stretches wide as she pulls him for a hug. “Mon amour, I missed you.”
In her periphery, she spots both Jason and Damian’s face squished against the window. She throws them a glare and locks her arm around Felix’s, walking down the front steps.
“I’m so sorry about them,” she groans, running her fingers through her heated curls.
“It’s not out of the ordinary,” Felix says with a hint of amusement in his tone. “It’s a good thing they are protective of you.”
“Overprotective,” she corrects. “This is why I prefer our dates to be in Paris and not Gotham.”
“Even so, they find ways to threaten me.”
She huffs.
—
“And then I told Adrien to catch those M&M’s with his mouth—” Marinette stops, nearly dropping her fork.
There, on one of the rooftops near the outdoor restaurant, she spots several figures. Reds. Green. Blue. Black.
Her entire family.
Her mouth hangs open as she tries not to look at them. “It’s still the afternoon!” She whispers. “Why the hell are they here?”
Felix doesn’t seem to mind, but the vigilantes diligently follow them on their date: hiding behind trees during their stroll in the gardens; scaling windows outside the museum; hopping across buildings whenever they traveled with a cab. She also spots Orphan casually sitting on a park bench, reading an oversized newspaper, not bothering to make herself less suspicious.
As they walk in the streets, Marinette stops and looks straight at Felix. “Let’s go to a love hotel.”
“Ma belle, your father will have a heart attack.”
“I don’t care. As long as it gets us some privacy.”
“They will stage a crime scene there to keep us out.”
She muffles her frustrated scream against his chest. They will, won’t they?
—
Marinette slams Bruce’s home office door open, fuming in her stomps. “Dad.” She fearlessly faces him head on. “I want to file a restraining order.”
XXXV
“Damian’s the demon, and Pixie’s the angel,” says Jason, popping open his soda drink. Marinette doesn’t know how the conversation ended up there. She hasn’t been listening before, but she’s listening now.
“I take offense to that.” She points her pencil at Jason. “I am a demon.”
Jason snorts disbelievingly.
“I am! I’ll prove it to you,” Marinette scowls. “You’ve seen how much of a menace I can be!”
“Pfft, what are you gonna do? Swap out all the spoons in the kitchen? Add less sugar to your brownies?”
It’s because you don’t know about my Inari persona! Marinette wants to scream.
“I can do much, much worse,” she declares threateningly.
“I am afraid you have opened the gates of hell, Todd.” Damian shakes his head solemnly.
---
Marinette stifles her giggles. It’s easy enough breaking into Jason’s apartment. He made the mistake of falling asleep on the couch, white tuft of hair unguarded.
She grabs the gel she bought the previous day: a quick dye that can be applied directly and lasts for a few days. She takes a generous dollop and carefully rubs it on his hair. Jason snores away, none the wiser.
She does an evil laugh in her head, seeing the hot pink against his dark hair. For added effect, she puts more dye on some of his tips. Take that, Pink Hood.
---
It’s another hostage situation in the grocery store.
Marinette just wants to get some eggs.
Red Hood moves to her side protectively—not subtle at all, Jay!—as the other vigilantes face off with Freeze and the other thugs. Marinette drums her fingers boredly on her basket. Then, she points at a batch of tin cans in one aisle.
“What?” Red Hood asks.
She smiles sweetly. “It’s you!”
Spoiler passes by and manages to catch her words. She bellows out laughter as she throws her punches.
---
“Is that Jason’s bike?”
Marinette’s about to put the helmet over her head when Duke catches her red-handed. She’s already straddling the tall motorcycle, ready to steal it away for a ride. Damn, I should’ve stolen the tires instead.
“Yeah . . .” she says.
“Do you know how to drive that?”
“Uhh, I’ve driven a scooter.” And a Lucky Charm motorcycle. Does that count? “Are you gonna tell Jay?”
“What? No way! I’ll go with you.” Duke gets a helmet of his own and settles on the backseat. Marinette smirks and turns the engine on.
They pass by a stunned (pink-haired) Jason who’s about to head up to his apartment. Marinette stops the bike in front of him, pulls up her visor, and snickers. “ ‘Sup?”
Chapter 8: Parts 36-40
Chapter Text
XXXVI
“Selina!” Marinette tackles the woman into a hug as soon as she sees her on the manor’s front door.
“Marinette!” Selina smiles brightly. “How are you?”
“I’m good. Come in! Dad’s not home yet, but I made some cupcakes if you want some. I’ll go prepare tea too.”
“You are too nice my darling.” Selina looks around the manor, shrugging off her jacket. “So empty here now, huh? Could use another kid around.”
Marinette gasps. “Are you. . .?”
Selina chuckles. “No, Bruce and I aren’t ready for that. Him especially.” She smirks. “Besides, he has to propose first.”
“He should do it soon. I have your dress design all ready.”
“Why not give him a little push, hon?”
Marinette stops and slaps her cheeks. “Oh no! I’d have to make everyone’s wedding outfits! The suits and dresses!”
“It’ll take a while.” Selina hands her a brown paper bag. “Here. A little something for you.”
A stunned Marinette fishes out a long coat from the bag. Her eyes widen. “Is this a coat from last year’s Paris Fashion Week?”
A glint shimmers on the older woman’s eye. “I don’t know. Does it look like it?”
Marinette’s jaw unhinges when she examines the material. Damn, did she really steal this?
XXXVII
Marinette rests her head on the cell bars as she curls her hand around them. This is a disaster! Adrien will disown me, Chloe will laugh at my face, and Luka and Juleka will never let me live this down! As if she can’t be any more idiotic during Christmas Eve. She sulkily scans the police office, hoping her brothers can come soon.
“Psst, Pixie.”
She perks up. “Jay?”
Jason is there, not-so-subtly disguised, creeping next to her cell. “Come on, we’re busting you out of here.”
“What?”
“Hurry up, Dick’s distracting the guards.”
True enough, her eldest brother is at the far corner of the room, chatting with the officers.
“Did you pay the bail money?” She asks.
“What bail money? Come on, Pix, we have to go,” Jason whispers.
“Jay . . . you just need to bail me out. Give them money. I called Dick to do just that and made him promise to not tell Dad,” she deadpans.
“Not tell B?” Her brother snorts. “That man will give you a medal even if you killed someone.”
Okaaaay, I can’t fully deny that, but still!
“But we have to go. You can’t not be home for the holidays. Just slide between the bars and we’ll sneak you out of here,” Jason coaxes.
“I’m not that small! I can’t slide between the bars!” She hisses, scowling.
“Okay, okay. Plan B. I’ll tell Dick to steal the keys.”
“Jason. Just bail me out of here.”
Instead of listening, Jason puts two fingers to his earpiece. Marinette’s expression contorts into incredulity. They even brought the earpieces they use as vigilantes?!
“Zombie to Dickiebird,” Jason reports. “Steal the keys, dickhead.”
In a somewhat elaborate but discreet routine, the keys were passed between Dick and Jason. The latter grins before freeing Marinette with a click. She frowns but still slips out, ignoring the unimpressed looks of the prisoners in the other cells.
“Okay, good,” Jason nods. “Let’s go to the getaway car.”
“Getaway car?!”
—
Marinette’s jaw drops at one of the sleek convertibles from the manor waiting at the back door of the station. Tim is at the driver’s seat; Damian is in shotgun, and Duke is in the backseat, munching on fries and offering a takeout burger to her.
“I can’t believe you permitted this.” She glares at Damian, who she thought would have at least a bit of common sense.
Instead of making an excuse, Damian reaches from his seat to pat her on the head. “I congratulate you on your first crime, sister.”
“It’s not even a real crime!” She whines. “I took one of the autopilot cars to get some stuff from the grocery store for Christmas dinner and then I sneezed and accidentally pressed a button to accelerate past the speed limit. And the cops caught me!”
“A good starting point,” Tim commends.
Marinette scoffs. “Are you even functional enough to drive?”
“Trust me, I’ve done worse while high on caffeine.”
She groans, begrudgingly hopping onto the backseat and munching on the burger furiously. “You guys were just supposed to bail me out and keep it quiet from Dad, not kidnap me!”
“Oh, we’ve done worse. He’s not gonna be mad at you,” says Duke. “Bruce will be proud.”
Jason leans back, arms behind his head. “He was the one who told us to get you out of jail.”
XXXVIII
Adrien is beyond jittery. And he’s stressed. And his scalp is hurting because Damian is pulling at his hair at the back.
Adjusting a tiny Marinette in his arms, he rings the doorbell. To his relief, Alfred answers.
“Hey, Alfred.” He waves sheepishly. “So . . . remember when my friends and I sometimes help Ladybug in experimenting guardian potions?”
The butler raises a skeptic eyebrow.
“Yeahhh, so this happened. Just an unexpected side effect. It will wear out soon, don’t worry. They’re about the same age right now? Not sure.” Adrien hurriedly shoves the toddlers towards Alfred.
“Oh dear, I must order some diapers and baby food.”
“Yup! And a lot of tissues and wipes. Thanks Alfred, bye!” Adrien practically runs back to the manor’s front steps, glad to finally escape the terrible two.
---
“Alfred . . . what?” Bruce stares dumbfoundedly at the two children in Alfred’s arms.
“Master Bruce, it seems like Miss Marinette and Master Damian have been caught in Ladybug’s magic during their stay in France.”
Little do they know that she still has the consciousness of her real age, just not the physical capabilities.
Marinette squirms a little. “Dada?”
Her father looks like he’s about to cry. She huffs. Just because we weren’t with Dad yet when we were toddlers . . .
“The supplies!” Bruce starts to get alarmed. “What do we do? How do they get turned back? Do we have to buy baby food?”
“Master Adrien did say the effect will wear out but I’m afraid he did not specify how long.”
Baby Damian’s glare intensifies.
---
“Ow, hey—careful, Baby Bird.” Dick holds the struggling toddler in his arms carefully. “Alfred? Have you seen Mari—”
He gasps out loud, spotting the tiny girl perched high up on the chandelier. Marinette giggles and swings around, making Dick’s soul migrate out of his body. “Marinette!” He screeches. “What the fu—dge! How did you get up there?”
The menace crawls to the dangerous edge, and Dick immediately hands Damian off to Alfred, who has an amused look on his face.
“Don’t look at me like that, Alfie! I knew how to get down when I was a kid,” Dick groans. He raises his arms, looking up at his little sister. “Mari! Don’t move from there, okay? I’ll come get you!”
Marinette crawls more, tipping the chandelier a little.
“Nononononono! Mari, stay there!”
---
Jason is facing one of the most threatening enemies of his life.
He holds the fresh new diaper in one hand as he and Damian are locked in a stand-off. And somehow, the kid managed to get his hands on the katanas and one of his guns.
“Demon Spawn,” he says threateningly. “We just need to change your diaper.”
Damian spits out a string of garbled words which sound as threatening. He waves his swords in front of Jason before lunging, nearly slashing his leg.
“Fuck! Damian!” Jason scolds angrily.
“Language!” Tim calls out from the other room.
“They’re not actually babies!” Jason yells back.
At that moment, Marinette rushes into the room, holding Jason’s other gun. He pales in a millisecond, and attempts to chase her but she giggles and runs around to escape his clutches.
---
Tim stares down at his mug, slowly registering that its contents were not in fact coffee, but warm milk. Then, he slowly looks at baby Marinette, who’s drinking out of her sippy cup.
“Wait, wait!” He reaches for her drink to see that it is his coffee. “Bruce is going to kill me! You can’t drink that, Mari!”
“Cowwffeee,” Marinette whines, sticking her tongue out.
“No coffee! You were supposed to drink this milk!”
Marinette gulps down more of her coffee in response. Tim wrestles it out of her grip, unfortunately drawing out a wail and a full sobs from the girl.
Bruce walks into the kitchen just in time. Marinette runs to her father and wraps her little arms around his leg. “Dada!” she cries. “Tim thiefyyy!”
---
“You’re so cute!” Stephanie coos at a preening Marinette. “Bruce, are you taking them to work?”
Bruce nods, putting his suit jacket on. “No one’s available to babysit today, so I will be taking both of them.”
“Okay, wait here.” Stephanie runs off with the two children for a few minutes. When they come back, Marinette and Damian are dressed in miniature business suits, complete with ties and tiny briefcases.
Bruce gets into a Mother Hen mode and fusses over them, smoothing the wrinkles on the fabric and getting a sword out of Damian’s grasp. Stephanie adoringly takes pictures, ‘aww’ing every other minute.
The board meeting becomes quite eventful. Marinette is on her father’s lap, scribbling on a document with crayons and markers. Sometimes, she opts to take the marker and draw over Bruce’s face as he’s talking to the other members. The other meeting attendees can’t say a word against it because Bruce is the CEO after all. He’s come up with the alibi that the children are his niece and nephew he’s stuck taking care of.
She glances over at Tim, who had Damian on his lap. He looks about half dead. Damian has been trying to clobber him for the past hour or so, picking up pens, paperweights, a mug, and even document folders to hit him. Now that there is no makeshift weapon at Damian’s disposal, he’s now attempting to bite Tim’s arm.
“We have to take away funds from the designs partnership to increase funding for other sectors,” one of the board members says.
Marinette stops and slams her fist on the table, scowling. “Booshit!”
Bruce raises a judgmental eyebrow. “The financial reports from that project have been flawless. They’re operating at a smaller budget than the other lavish partnerships we have.”
“But Mr. Wayne—”
“You heard her. We are not touching the funds for that partnership.”
XXXIX
It all begins with Marinette complaining to Bruce that the bolt of fabric she ordered won’t be arriving on time for the commission deadline.
“You’re MDC?” Bruce stares at her.
“Yeah? I thought you knew, Dad.”
The fact, however, seems to have a bluescreen effect on Bruce. “The designer MDC, who WE had a partnership with for the gala? That MDC?”
“I . . . I seriously thought you knew. Tim was so excited when the contract was signed. Didn’t you see him?”
Panic flashes in Bruce’s eyes at the thought of not knowing his child’s great feat. “About that fabric, what do you need? We can take a jet to this special fabric store in—”
“No, Dad, that’s too much!” She forgets how rich the Waynes are sometimes.
“Are you sure? I can buy a warehouse right now if you want. WE needs to expand into fabrics anyways—”
“Dad, Dad, no I can just talk to my client. I’m sure they’ll understand if the order needs to be pushed back. I was just venting it out a while ago.”
“Or, we can pay your client so they agree to wait for your commission for as long as it takes—”
“Dad, please.”
XL
The family may not know about her secret identity, but they know about Paris. The akumas, Hawkmoth, the trauma of the people.
They understand her night terrors, the times she wakes up in a cold sweat, crying and screaming. The occurrences have become less frequent, but when they do happen, they get worse than the last time.
One particular afternoon, Marinette is alone in the manor (as far as she knows). Alfred has gone on an errand, her father and Tim are staying in the office, Damian’s still at school, Duke’s out patrolling, and the others have their own duties. She fell asleep after an all-nighter, not knowing that she’ll be haunted by her nightmares again.
Marinette kicks and screams, fisting her sheets and crying out loud. Her wails echo in her room as memories flash beneath her eyelids. She jolts, half-awake, when she feels a hand on her arm.
She lets herself get pulled into a warm body, and she buries her tear-streaked face on a chest as she chokes on her sobs. A soft hand caresses the back of her head, smoothing down her loosened locks. Marinette lets herself cry to her heart’s content.
When she stops, she looks up at the one holding her. Cass offers no words but her gentle expression speaks louder. Marinette melts further into her embrace, finding the most comfort in her sister.
“Sorry,” Marinette mumbled.
Cass pats her twice on the top of her head as a way of telling her that it’s alright.
Chapter 9: Parts 41-45
Notes:
CW: Depictions of a panic attack, mentions of scars and body injuries
Chapter Text
XLI
It’s one of those dinners with business partners again. Bruce got Selina as a plus one, and managed to persuade Marinette to come. Marinette slides back to her seat next to her father’s girlfriend, handing her Bruce’s freshly stolen credit card. “Here.”
“Thank you, darling,” Selina purrs. “You’re getting better.”
“No but here’s the thing.” Marinette says. “You only make me steal from Dad. But Dad never minds it if it’s me. I’m starting to think he’s just letting it slide on purpose and he pretends not to notice.”
“Try stealing his watch then.”
“His watch? Like that metal clasp watch?” Marinette fidgets with her dress. “That’s hard to steal!”
“Dear, you’ve snatched phones multiple times and you’ve put them back without the owners noticing.” Selina smirks, eyes gleaming with pride. “You can tell if Bruce is just letting you get away with it if he’ll make it easy for you.”
Marinette rapidly nods in understanding. Once she’s mastered the sleight of hand with her father, she can try with her brothers next. She slips away inconspicuously and manages to unclasp Bruce’s watch when she offers him a drink as he talks to the guests. Bruce himself seemingly doesn’t notice anything. Or maybe he’s so used to being Selina’s victim that he doesn’t bat an eye when something’s missing?
Humming, Marinette makes her way back to the main table and gives Selina the watch like a proud kitten.
Selina chuckles. “We’re going out after this. My treat.”
“You mean dad’s credit card’s treat.” She returns the grin.
XLII
“Okay, look alive, everyone!” Marinette yells. Behind the kitchen island, her picks are lined up, stiffly standing. “Alfred’s not home yet and we need to bake a cake for Dick’s birthday!”
She clears her throat, batting her rolling pin against one hand. “Normally I’d volunteer to bake it myself, but we’re short on time today and I’m planning a big and extravagant birthday cake!”
Her rolling pin points towards Jason. “I thought you’d be more delicate in these kind of things than the others—plus you radiate occasional malewife energy so you must have some talent in baking—”
“Radiate what?”
“And you!” She directs the pin towards Tim, who’s struggling to be awake. “You can follow instructions well. Most of the time. You’ll be good as long as we follow the recipe.”
Tim gives a halfhearted salute.
“And finally, Dad!” She points to Bruce. He’s wearing an oversized chef’s hat and an apron with ‘Best Dad’ written on it, except that the first word is crossed out. “You’re a grown ass man! You cannot fuck this up!”
“Language, dear.”
Marinette coughs. “Sorry.” She sets the pin behind her. “Anyway, I would’ve gotten Cass to help but unfortunately she’s on decoration duty. Now, let’s begin!”
---
“Next, drop a stick of butter—”
Marinette stops, seeing Tim plop the whole piece of frozen butter into the mixing bowl. “Tim! I told you to soften it first!”
“It is soft.”
“No it’s not!”
He tries to break it down with a whisk but the hardened butter doesn’t relent. Tim unblinkingly stares down at it.
Marinette puts a hand over her eyes. “We’re going to wait for that to soften up.” Then, she scowls. “Or you can start all over again.”
---
“Jason.”
He doesn’t look up from his phone. “Yeah?”
“Why is the cake in the oven burning?”
“What do you—shit!” He lifts his gaze and sees it: the cake he popped into the oven is in flames. He scrambles over to it and is about to open it when—
“Use a glove, Jay, damn it!” Marinette shouts.
He hastily picks one up and frees the smoke into the kitchen, causing the fire alarms to ring. Marinette sighs as she gets doused with the sprinklers’ water. So much for malewife energy.
---
Marinette watches as Bruce draws over the cake with icing, which is coming out of the piping bag in irregular bursts. He tries to smoothen it over with a scraper but it barely makes the icing even.
He catches her looking and his eyes widen.
“You’re doing great, Dad.” Marinette smiles weakly. I can just fix the icing later.
XLIII
"Son, I have a very important job for you."
Marinette presses herself against the wall, stealthily eavesdropping on her father and Damian. Whatever this 'important job' is, she has a feeling that it concerns her.
"What is it Father?"
"I saw Marinette looking at our family picture near the staircase yesterday." Bruce sounds distressed. "She looked at it for a long time. I think she's upset that she's not in it."
"I . . . I see," Damian trails off with uncertainty.
"I'm going to commission you to paint a portrait of us. With Marinette in it. She'll appreciate it more if you crafted it yourself."
Marinette wants to put a hand on her forehead. She stopped by the large photo yesterday because she couldn't figure out the fabric of Jason's outfit in the picture and wanted to use that texture for her next project. How did Dad interpret that as me being sad? If I wanted to be in the picture, I would've told him!
Bruce continues, "Just tell me what you need and I'll get it for you."
"I would need a reference for that, Father."
"Good. I'll ask Tim to photoshop a picture of Marinette into the family photo and I'll hand them to you."
As soon as their father leaves, Marinette steps out of the shadows. Unsurprisingly, Damian isn't shocked that she's there.
"I have a proposition," she declares.
Damian raises an eyebrow. "You weren't upset about the photo, were you?"
"No. A fabric just caught my eye," she sighs. "I'll help you with the portrait."
"You do not want to explain it to Father instead?"
She shakes her head. "I think he wants a family portrait with me in it anyway. I'll match your painting style. We'll shop for the materials together, okay?"
---
Over the course of making the portrait, Marinette realizes how much she enjoys painting the photo. She's able to catch the little details from her family: the way Dick's eyes wrinkle at the corners as he smiles; the subtle touch of Bruce's hand on Jason's shoulder; Duke's lopsided grin; Cass' unusually relaxed stance, the stiffness of Damian's crossed arms as he wears his Resting Grumpy Face™; and the hint of dark circles on Tim that wasn't covered by the makeup.
And finally, finally, she figures out that Jason is wearing satin behind a layer of crepe.
Damian is the one who paints her, sitting at the bottom of the picture. She notes how one of her earrings is exposed and smiles a little.
She steps backward as they look over the painting. "Dad will love it."
XLIV
“Who are you?” Marinette stares up at the pale man, eyes wide with wonder.
“Mari?” Tim blinks at her. “Don’t you remember? It’s me, Tim. And Jason’s here too.”
She tilts her head. “I’m sorry . . . I don’t remember . . .” Her eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t remember a lot of things. What happened to me?”
Her gaze sweeps around the room. It’s full of white. White sheets, a white bed, white walls. The scent of antiseptic wafts around the room powerfully.
“Marinette—”
“Stop it, the doctor already said she doesn’t remember,” Jason hisses at Tim. “Don’t force it.”
Tim scowls. “But if we remind her . . .”
“It’s amnesia. What the fuck are you going to do?”
The sharpness of Jason’s voice makes Marinette flinch. Her head spins. Amnesia? Me? She realizes she can’t remember anything since the age of thirteen. Why are they speaking English? Am I in France? What happened to me?
She glances at a notepad at her bedside table. All it bears is a doodle of a ladybug. Did I draw that? It feels a little familiar, but she doesn’t feel particularly attached to Ladybugs.
The voices of the men continue to grow louder. She curls in on herself, heart beating rapidly.
---
Marinette’s eyes burst wide open and well with tears. She frantically feels around her. It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m in my bedroom. In the Wayne Manor. I still remember.
She brings her knees close to her chest and cries softly. But what about one day when I won’t?
XLV
Marinette softly opens the door to Jason’s bedroom unannounced. She’s about to call out for him when she sees his torso bare, scars and wounds on full display. Her eyes widen a fraction. She knows her brothers have scars, some worse than others, but she hasn’t fully seen them. There’s a sense of vulnerability she feels, seeing all those cuts littered across Jason’s skin.
Jason senses her. He turns around and makes eye contact, expression immediately hardening and irises flashing green. “Get out.”
“But–”
“Get out, Marinette.”
Her stomach sinks as she closes the door and slinks away to the hall. Marinette. Not Pixie. I probably caught him off guard. She wraps her arms around herself, knowing Jason had not meant to be harsh. It was her fault for not knocking anyway.
Now fully clothed, Jason rushes out of the room and stops when he sees her.
“I wasn’t going to ask,” she says in a whisper.
“What?”
“I wasn’t going to ask about them.” She bows her head. “I understand. This is Gotham. One way or another you’d have . . . those.”
Jason’s shoulders sag. “Pixie . . .”
“I know you’re trying to protect me from the cruelty of the world. That’s why you don’t want me to see them.” Her voice quakes. “But I understand, Jay, it’s okay. I don’t need to be protected. I used to live in Paris.”
He sighs. “This is different. There are worse things out there that you don’t know about. Much, much worse than you think.”
No, I’ve already known the worst. I’ve died like you, Jason. I recognize your aura of the Pits.
“I’m sorry,” she says.
“No, I’m sorry.” He hugs her tightly. She buries her face on his chest. “We just don’t want you to be involved in dangerous things, Pix. It’s for the best.”
Chapter 10: Parts 46-50
Notes:
TW: Blood, injury, violence
Chapter Text
XLVI
Someone who’s not supposed to be here is in Gotham.
Her timer for the fox is already beeping, thanks to a spur-of-the-moment prank she decided to pull earlier that night. Inari grits her teeth and runs from the stranger. It’s okay. I still have the Black Cat on.
Robe clothing. Graying hair. Mysterious symbol on his back. It’s from the Order of the Guardians. Inari strayed away from watching her family only to encounter the monk. Even if she’s wearing two Miraculouses, the old man from the Order is armed with lethal training, determined to take her Miraculouses.
She gasps for air a couple of rooftops away, spotting Nightwing, Red Hood and Robin beating up criminals in a nearby street. The monk stops on his tracks, follows her gaze, and changes direction to head towards the vigilantes.
“NO!” She yells and goes after him. She knows her brothers can take care of themselves, but she’s not taking any chances. The assailant might be armed with magic or a Miraculous for all she knows.
She tackles the monk to the ground, unfortunately exposing herself in front of her brothers. She feels jabs to her stomach, kicks to her shoulder as she exchanges blows with her moment. Whatever is being taught back in the temple, it counters Miraculous strength well.
Inari trips on her feet, crashing to the ground. The fox necklace beeps its last and she gets washed with a light, left with her black cat transformation.
“Trixx, hide!” she hisses at the kwami, who’s quick to obey. She aims a punch at the monk’s face but he blocks it, pinning her onto the ground.
Her inner voice frantically protests when he starts to slide the ring off her finger. Stop! No, no, no! I can’t lose a Miraculous! I can’t—She feels fingers curl around her throat as both the chokehold and her panic make it hard to breathe.
There’s a stinging on her abdomen. But she ignores it and pushes up to grab the ring back. Scrambling back into an upright position, she pulls on the attacker’s legs and snatches the fallen ring he accidentally lets go of. At the same time, he pulls hard at her necklace, successfully taking it and leaving a crimson mark around her skin.
Marinette tries to chase after him when he runs off but realizes that she can’t. Looking down, she sees her arm pressed up against her middle. Red. Wet. Painful. A blade sticks out from her. When? I hadn’t noticed . . . She fights for her consciousness, falling to the ground.
The last thing she feels is the ring still tightly clenched around her fist.
And the last thing she sees are her unmasked brothers shouting and rushing towards her.
XLVII
Marinette wakes up in the bedroom back in the manor. She winces at the pain on her abdomen, looking down to see it bandaged up perfectly, perhaps a work of Alfred's. She can't tell what time it is, but sees that it's still dark outside.
I messed up. She chokes back on her tears. Trixx . . . the fox necklace. All gone.
"Kitten." Plagg flies into her view, accompanied by a fidgeting Tikki.
"I'm a bad guardian." Marinette digs the heels of her palms at the corner of her eyes. "I messed up so bad. I lost a Miraculous. My family knows about me now and they'll hate me for lying to them. Dad won't approve of me as a hero. I'll ruin this family just like I ruin everything else---"
"Marinette! Breathe!" Tikki coaxes. Marinette sucks in lungfuls of air, clutching at her hair. Her entire body is numb, but her wound burns deep into her skin.
Slightly trembling, she hops out of bed and heads towards the Miracle Box.
"What are you doing?" Tikki asks.
"I can't---I can't face them." She shakes her head. "Not right now . . . I---I can't."
I've been careless. Too relaxed. I thought I was doing well, that I could spend every day with my family with no care. But she's wrong. There are always enemies lurking, wanting the powers for themselves. Bruce won't like that kind of life for her. He'll attempt to take over, even keep her from being guardian, because of his protective tendencies. It'll change things with her brothers too.
Marinette throws on the glasses and transforms to open up a portal despite the kwamis' protests. There's one place I can go to now. She puts a hand against her middle and steps in, staggering into the bedroom before collapsing on a rug.
Felix stares at her with wide eyes and parted mouth. A suitcase lies atop the bed.
"Marinette!" He rushes to help her up and place her on his bed as she detransforms. "Your father called and told us what happened. I was preparing to fly to Gotham."
Marinette whimpers at the pain when she attempts to reply. Felix curses under his breath and makes a mad dash towards his bathroom. "Your wound opened up. Hold on."
Her boyfriend attentively fixes the stitch and redresses the wound while pressing gentle kisses on her head every now and then. She feels an incoming nausea seeing all the blood spreading on the sheets and pillows. Finally, when Felix finishes, he brushes her hair away from her face and asks, "Why did you come here?"
Marinette sniffs. "I don't want to talk to them. I messed up Fe."
"Shh, start from the beginning, love." He takes her hand. "If you want to talk, that is."
"There was someone from the Order who came to Gotham to the Miraculouses from me." She blinks her tears away. "He was going to hurt Dick, Jay and Damian so I stopped him. My fox timer ran out and he got the ring at first but I took it back. He got the fox instead and stabbed me."
She looks up at Felix pleadingly. "Can I stay here first?"
"Of course, ma belle. Do you want me to call the others?"
She hesitates for a second before answering, ". . . Okay. They need to know too and I'll ask help for the search."
"And your family?"
"I---I don't know. I don't want to see them yet. They'll be disappointed."
XLVIII
Dick hasn’t seen Bruce so worn out in forever. Their father has barely slept, eaten or taken care of himself since Marinette disappeared. Alfred coaxes him away from the computer screen from time to time, but the distress is still apparent in his expressions.
Tim strolls into the Batcave. Dick calls out to him. “Found anything?”
“No. Felix and her other friends said they’re trying to look too.” Tim sips from his thermos. “No sign of her anywhere.”
“Ladybug—Marinette—most likely has the Horse Miraculous,” says Dick. “She could’ve gone anywhere.”
“Why . . . why did she leave?” Bruce asks.
“She was probably scared, B. We have to give her some space.”
“We can’t. What if she goes to retrieve the ring on her own? She can’t do that alone. She’s injured.”
A muscle in Dick’s jaw twitches. “First of all, if she was hiding her identity from us all this time, she must be more than capable to deal with things on her own. And second, why don’t you think about what it’s like for her? Maybe she doesn’t want to be found. Maybe she’s not ready yet.”
Bruce completely ignores him. “Tim, check the temples in Tibet. I’ll do a sweep in the cameras in Paris again.”
Dick sighs and stands up. The worry for Marinette has been eating him inside as well, but he’s more afraid of the fact that she’ll be hesitant to come home because she won’t feel welcomed anymore. Because she’s Ladybug, she knows how Batman is so strongly against the Parisian heroes.
Should I call Jason to knock some sense into B?
XLIX
Marinette stealthily casts the portal and tiptoes into her bedroom. She separates Kaalki from her Ladybug transformation and feeds the kwami before reaching for the box in her nightstand drawer. She has left the Miraculouses for too long, and has decided to retrieve the box before her family or the Order finds it.
She stiffens when the door bursts open. Without thinking, she brings her yoyo out to have it wind around a familiar sword. Damian stares at her. “Marinette? I heard noises from here and I thought . . . ”
She barely gets any time to react. He tugs on his katana, sending her stumbling forward and the box flying into his hands. Ladybug rushes to get it back, aiming her weapon at her brother as he expertly dodges each blow.
“Marinette . . .”
“Don’t come near me!” She warns, taking a step back.
“Where have you been?” A flicker of anger gleams on Damian’s eyes. “Do you know how long we’ve been looking for you? You could have been hurt.”
“I said don’t come near me,” she says in an equally firm tone, backing up against the window sill. I have to get that box.
Damian doesn’t back down. She lunges at him again, trying to reach a weak point or opening. But he’s strong, even against a Miraculous wielder. At some point, the yoyo is pushed out of her grasp and the same happens to his sword. Ladybug jumps to grab the fallen blade, while Damian spins the yoyo—they’ve exchanged weapons.
Unfortunately, Damian is less versed in using the yoyo. He tries to wield it like a rope dart, but Ladybug’s little experience with a sword overpowers him. She manages to corner him on the opposite side of the room.
He makes a jab with his elbow and accidentally hits her middle, where her wound is. Ladybug inhales sharply and flinches, feeling the blunt force on her injury. Damian’s realization of his mistake gives her the chance to grab the box out of his possession and into hers.
“Wait—!” Damian calls out. At the same time, the others barge into the room.
But they’re too late. Again. She has transformed and teleported back to where she came from.
L
Māo leans over the edge of the rooftop, peering over Gotham. She has made up her mind to go back to Gotham but only to track down the stolen necklace. She's careful to avoid her brothers' and father's patrol routes, having no plan to face them just yet.
She feels someone sneaking up behind her and shrieks, immediately throwing the potential attacker over her shoulder. She hears a deep voice yelling immediately afterwards, having been thrown off the building.
"Shit!" Māo extends her baton right away, catching Nightwing in the middle of his fall and depositing him back on the ledge.
"Sorry, Dick," she wrings her finger together. "I mean—Nightwing!"
She's about to spring away when he catches her wrist. "Wait, Mari—"
"I can't. I'm sorry . . ." She pulls away from his grasp and hops off to another rooftop but suddenly comes face to face with Batman himself, along with Robin.
"Marinette," Batman looks down at her. She's cornered between them, unable to find an opening to escape. The second she stares back at her father, she finds his expression unreadable.
"It's Māo," she tells him quietly. "No names on the field."
Batman clears his throat. "Māo. Will you hear us out first?"
She shifts on her feet. "You're not mad?"
A flicker of change passes over him but she still can't tell what he's feeling. She hangs her head, expecting the worst, expecting him to lash out and forbid her from wielding another Miraculous before taking over her business.
"Why didn't you tell us before?" Batman asks. "I wouldn't have stopped you from being a hero. I wouldn't get mad. You could've been more honest with us and you wouldn't have been attacked."
Her breath catches in her throat. "It's not that easy."
"We would still understand your situation," Robin says.
"That's not . . ." She shuts her eyes tightly for a while.
"We could've helped you, Ladybug." She flinches at her father's emphasis on her heroine name.
"It's because you were so happy to have a 'normal' child!" She yells out. "You were trying so hard in hiding your alter ego so you can protect me! And this whole time, you were against Ladybug having the Miraculouses! How can I tell you the truth?"
Batman purses his lips, evidently affected by her outburst.
"I'm sorry I can't be the perfectly clueless daughter you thought I was," she spits out bitterly. "But I have a job to do because I have to take responsibility for the missing Miraculous."
"You don't need to worry about that, Pix," a new voice rings out. Red Hood, Red Robin, Orphan and Spoiler jump up to the same rooftop.
And dangling between Red Hood's fingers is the Fox Miraculous.
Māo gasps and takes the necklace immediately. She wears it, summoning a weary Trixx who gives her a look of reassurance.
"Ja—I mean, Red Hood, how did you . . .?" She gapes at her siblings.
"Tracked down that fucker who stabbed you." She can hear the cocky grin in his tone. Red Hood jerks his head towards their sleep deprived brother. "Mostly thanks to this one."
Māo resists pulling them into a hug. She clutches the necklace close, whispering words of thanks.
Batman coughs to regain her attention. "Māo . . . Marinette . . ." He falters. "I'm sorry that you felt that way. I had that opinion about Ladybug because I knew she was your age and it's difficult and dangerous for her to carry those responsibilities."
She wraps her arms around herself. "I understand that, but I can handle it on my own . . . Sort of. I don't need someone to take care of me on the hero side of things—I'm used to it."
"It doesn't mean you have to bear it alone, M." Nightwing puts a gentle hand on her back. "You have us now and we won't try to control you. Right, B?"
"Yes . . . But—"
"He said yes," Spoiler smiles. "So it's a yes."
Māo lets her stance relax. Her family knowing about her is bringing a lot of changes, but she feels more comfortable with them now.
"You'll go home tonight, right?" Orphan asks.
"Yeah, I think I will." She nods.
Chapter 11: Parts 51-55
Chapter Text
LI
She tiptoes towards the vigilante on the edge of the rooftop. Poor Tim, still so exhausted and burnt out from all his work. She releases her invisibility and whispers into his ear: “boo.”
Red Robin gives out a high-pitched scream, immediately toppling over and falling from the building. Inari gasps and whips out her baton to catch him midair, hearing the howls of laughter from Red Hood and Nightwing in her comms.
“Shit, I didn’t expect you’d fall,” Inari sheepishly says, depositing her brother back on top.
“Ha-ha,” Red Robin replies dryly, brushing his suit.
Once out of the area, Inari presses on her earpiece, directing the line to a private one. “Did you record all of that?”
“Got all of it, Pixie,” Red Hood confirms smugly.
“Sweet, I have a new ringtone.”
LII
When Marinette wakes up and pads down the stairs, she finds a rare sight in the kitchen: her father is having a morning cup of coffee, and hasn’t left for work yet. She suddenly remembers that he was injured from a bad rogue attack during the previous night, so he’s spending the day recovering (or Alfred forced him to recover).
“Morning,” she greets. “Have you had breakfast? I can make some for you.”
“It’s one in the afternoon, Marinette.”
She flushes. “Brunch then?”
“That sounds wonderful, sweetheart.”
She peeks at the papers on the kitchen island. Most of them were files, some relating to WE business while some about a case. She shuffles semi-awkwardly in the space.
“Marinette?”
She stiffens. “. . . Yeah?”
“About the Miraculouses . . .”
She can’t bring herself to turn around. “What about them?”
“I understand that with the current situation, they should be under better security,” Bruce begins. “If you’d like, we can research about how to protect the box better and train your team.”
In a different setting—with the League present, perhaps—he would’ve insisted yet again that the jewels are not safe in her hands. Her grip on the spatula tightens. “If I wasn’t Ladybug, would you have offered her the same thing?” she asks with a small voice.
“Sweetheart . . .”
Marinette lowers her head and slowly pivots around. The expression on Bruce’s face is that of a lost father, with specks of regret and confusion.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I was too imposing. I should’ve known better, having trained children to be vigilantes. I only want what’s best for you.”
“I know,” she mumbles.
“What about this: you can draft a list of things the JL can help you with and we’ll go through them together.”
Marinette pouts. The father persona is definitely cutting through his unmovable Batman personality. “Sounds like favoritism from Batman.”
He snorts. “Not favoritism. It’s an offer.”
She cracks a smile. “Okay, whatever. I’ll ask my team about it.”
LIII
Inspired by the Wayne Family Adventures - Episode 53
Marinette almost chokes on her milk.
No scratch that. Marinette actually chokes on her milk. She coughs, seeing the liquid splatter all over the tabletop. One of her friends has sent her a few screenshots along with a message that reads: Isn’t this ur brother???
And—much to her shock, horror and confusion—it is her brother. ‘Jason Todd, 23’ slapped right on the Tinder profile. Her shock evolved into amusement, and with amusement comes laughter. She clutches her stomach as she reads through it: “You should ‘not’ go out with me if: you think Batman is Gotham’s greatest superhero. He doesn’t even make it to the top 10.” And there’s: “. . . forsake humanity and finally read every book I’ve brought.”
She’s dissolved into full-on cackles when Dick comes into the dining hall.
“You okay, Mari?” he asks.
She snorts out another laugh. “Check this out.”
Dick goes through similar emotions when he looks at the Tinder profile. “Oh my god,” he gasps out. “He’s finally putting himself out there!”
“Who’s putting himself out there?” Jason strolls in, carrying snacks.
Marinette smirks. “You.” Then she grins wildly. “Did you seriously put a picture of you in the batcave?”
Dick snickers. “Part of the appeal. Girls like motorcycles.”
“What are you both talking about?” Jason asks.
“How’s forsaking humanity and reading books going?” Marinette says mischievously.
Jason slowly realizes as his face pales. “Oh. Oh no.”
“Hey, there’s no harm in doing that, little bird.” Dick nods in understanding.
“Oh my fuck. How—how did you find that?!”
“Someone sent it to me.” Marinette shrugs.
“Don’t you dare tell the others!”
“Oops . . .” Marinette glances down at her phone, which is overflowing with different notifications. “Already sent to the family group chat.”
LIV
“Oh no.” The color on Marinette’s face slowly drains. “Oh no. What happened?”
“Zatanna happened,” Damian deadpans.
It looks like the mighty karma has smote them, granting them the same predicament they had their brothers suffering in before. Dick, Jason, Tim, and Stephanie have become toddlers, and are currently unleashing a storm inside the manor. And Alfred is nowhere to be found.
Marinette’s jaw drops. A small Jason engulfed in his big leather jacket is trying to wrestle handguns out of Damian, even resorting to biting his brother. Tim is asleep face first on a bowl of oatmeal and Marinette rushes to take his head off from it. Stephanie is in a sugar high from purple candy, jumping and running around.
“Where’s Dick?” Marinette asks frantically, wiping Tim’s face with a paper towel.
“Where do—Todd! Don’t you dare—where do you think?”
As if on cue, a squeal sounds out from the chandelier.
“Hell no.” Marinette rushes from the kitchen and scampers up to get Dick from the ceiling. He starts to cry when she pries his chubby fingers from the chandelier.
“This isn’t a place to play, Dick.” She sighs and delivers the toddler next to Tim. Dick likes cereal . . . wait can he even eat cereal? She sighs again and fishes out a juicebox from the fridge.
“Get off me you demons!” Damian yells. Jason and Steph are ganging up on him, climbing up his tall figure and pulling at his clothes and hair.
“Graaaahhh!” Jason hits Damian’s nose with his small fist repeatedly.
Meanwhile, Marinette dives after Tim, who’s trying to reach for the coffee pot. He wails when she tells him that he can’t drink coffee and squirms out of her hold to run elsewhere. Marinette groans, takes Dick just in case he climbs high places again, and runs to follow Tim.
“How long until the effect wears off?!”
“Twenty four hours at most!” Damian replies.
“Tim! No!” Marinette gasps when the boy manages to open up the entrance to the Batcave.
Bonus
Marinette coos as she fixes the tie on little Jason. He tugs at it lightly before going back to his Jane Austen book (which he's somehow reading upside down).
"They're so cute!" Her eyes sparkle. The kids are lined up thanks to some Alfred-induced miracle.
Stephanie's blonde mop of hair is tied into two pigtails by purple ribbons. She's rocking a purple dress Marinette made herself, with matching purple flats. Beside her, Jason has a pair of glasses, a long coat that belongs to Bruce, and a book prop. His hair is slicked back to book-smart perfection. Meanwhile, Tim is wearing a simple outfit with suspenders. His chubby hands tug at the beret on top of his head.
Lastly, the brave and shameless Dick insisted on wearing a baby-sized Robin costume as an ode to his roots.
Marinette runs to where Damian is standing at the side. Alfred fixes the camera in front of the kids. "Ready, and smile, please."
"They grow up so fast," Marinette mock-sniffles.
"They're technically older than us," Damian says monotonously.
LV
Since the big revelation and confrontation, Ladybug has been invited more frequently to JL meetings. Marinette and Bruce are well aware of this change. The rest of the League, however, are still in the dark about what happened. The heroes only assume Batman had softened towards the Parisian heroine.
One day, Ladybug decides to take advantage of the situation.
Batman is giving his report and updates when she pulls out an entire bowl of cereal to munch on. Superman gives a dubious look. Wonder Woman pales. Green Lantern is ready to have a heart attack. Ladybug pays them no mind and starts eating the cereal.
Flash looks back and forth between Batman and Ladybug, seemingly expecting the former to lash out and yell at the latter.
But nothing happens. Batman continues his presentation. Ladybug continues her mid-meeting snack-fest.
Then she ups the ante. She starts chewing loudly while consistently maintaining eye contact with the Big Bat. This time, Batman pauses to look back at her.
And Ladybug knows. She knows what the other League members expect. They expect a war. A full-on match. A head-to-head. The vigilante throwing his Batarangs while Ladybug attacks with her yoyo. The tick on Batman’s jaw or his passive-aggressive tone.
None of that happens.
“Ladybug.” Batman’s voice is soft. “Can you eat quietly?”
Aquaman’s jaw drops. Black Canary gasps. Ladybug hides her smirk. ‘Can you eat quietly?’ Not even a ‘put that away’ or ‘please leave’ or ‘be quiet’. Batman is in his father mode and Ladybug can’t enjoy it more.
“Sorry,” she says unapologetically and continues eating.
—
She strikes again in the next meeting.
“Batman, why don’t you remove your cowl?” she says out of the blue.
Heads turn towards Batman, who grunts. “I’d rather not.”
Ladybug’s smile turns sickly sweet. She knows what’s under that cowl, since she became a witness to the diabolical plan of Timothy Jackson Drake and Jason Peter Todd. She will not stop until she unveils the monstrosity.
Meanwhile, the League members present are astounded by her audacity.
“I thought you trusted the whole League with your identity already.” She examines her (gloved) fingernails casually.
“Yes, but not you,” Batman mumbles as a futile defense.
She grins. “What do you mean? You told me last week! The cowl, pretty please?”
The universe knows Batman will never deny his dear daughter of anything. Grumbling under his breath, he pulls down his cowl to reveal his bright pink hair littered with sparkly glitter.
The League is silent after choking on split-second laughs. No one tries to make a sound. They’re too afraid. Too afraid of both Ladybug and Batman.
Batman continues his report with his cowl removed. Ladybug leans back, giggling and listening.
Chapter 12: Parts 56-60
Notes:
CW: Non-graphic violence, mention of death
Chapter Text
LVI
Jason crosses his arms. “Of course she’s going as me. I’ve saved her a million times already; I’m her hero!”
“When she didn’t even need saving, Monsieur Bucket Head,” Tim mocks. “She’s going as Red Robin. She has all the ducks I put all over the manor before!”
“Fools,” Damian butts in. “I’m her favorite Robin. It is only right that she dresses up as Robin.”
“Keep dreaming, little D,” Nightwing says smugly. “She’ll take inspiration from her eldest brother, a.k.a. the best vigilante ever.”
Stephanie walks in, chuckling with Cass. She’s dressed as a witch, complete with a pointy hat and a mini cauldron with purple candy in it. Cass matches her with a vampire look: realistic fangs, red contacts and a long cloak. Both girls look at the boys with amusement.
“What if she dresses up as Batman?” Stephanie wonders out loud.
The brothers simultaneously freeze.
“No!”
“She wouldn’t!”
“That’s preposterous!”
Bruce strolls into the grand hall with Selina. Both are dressed elegantly for the company gala that doubles as a halloween party. “Who will dress up as Batman?”
“Marinette,” Steph replies.
Bruce’s face instantly lights up with pride. “That’s a good choice.”
And to this, the others voice out their disagreement. Amidst the commotion, a figure darts down the stairs in a blur while squealing, “Selinaaaa!”
Lo and behold, there’s Marinette, wearing a costume that is an obvious tribute to Catwoman. The sleek headpiece and tinted goggles frame her face perfectly, her suit captures all the details of Selina’s original getup, and her tail whips around with every subtle movement.
She traps Selina in a hug, beaming brightly. “Do you like my costume?”
Selina takes one look at the boys’ flabbergasted faces and pinches her cheek. “I love it, honey.”
LVII
“Damian.”
“Yes?”
Marinette scowls. Soft whoops and cheers echo from behind her brother, who’s petting multiple tiny heads. “Are you listening?”
“Yes, I am.”
Her eye twitches. Doesn’t look that way. “Dami, they’re not pets, okay? They’re like . . . small children. Overpowered children. You can’t just give them anything they want.”
“I have it all under control.”
Somehow, I doubt that. Marinette pulls out her extensive list of rules. “Remember, no tree bark for Ziggy or sunflower seeds for Orikko past eight in the evening. You can give Barkk food at any time but you have to check on her every now and then because she might hoard her food inside stolen socks. Only Sass, Barkk and Wayzz can have the TV remote. The others will fight over it. If Kaalki gets upset, she’ll roam around the manor but you can summon her back with sugar cubes.”
Damian accepts the list with nothing more than a noncommittal sound. “I will take care of the kwamis. Don’t worry.”
“Are you sure you’ll be fine?” Marinette bites her lip. “Call Alfred if anything happens okay? I mean anything.”
“Nothing will happen. Would you rather any of our incompetent brothers babysit the kwamis?”
“. . . Fair. But—”
Damian holds his hand up. “You don’t need to worry too much. I will call to report our status every two hours.”
Marinette narrows her eyes. “Okay. If they get too rowdy, just put a Youtube video on. I’ll see you in a bit.”
LVIII
Batman looks up at the abomination adorning the sky. It’s a large disc-shaped . . . thing hovering in space. Not a spaceship from another planet, he confirmed, but a weird extraterrestrial structure that is currently causing an international panic.
He turns on his comms, entering the Hall of Justice. “Hal, do you have a vision?”
“Looks like it’s solid through and through,” Green Lantern replied. “It’s not a disc, more like a bit dome shaped. Oh, and it’s red all over with black spots.”
“. . . What?”
“Batman.” Wonder Woman walks in along with other League members. “I asked Kal to fetch the person who can solve this for us. They should be here any minute now.”
Everyone mutters and whispers restlessly. It’s not like they are wholly unprepared for any kind of emergency, but a sudden alien invasion is the last thing they need in their hands at the moment. Batman focuses on examining the object through the computer, looking out for anything else of note.
Then, Superman flies in, carrying a bundle wrapped around in his cape.
Said bundle is actually a sleepy girl, still clad in her pajamas and mussed hair.
“Marinette?” Batman chokes out.
Wonder Woman throws a glare at Superman for bringing the guardian in her civilian form.
Marinette yawns, rubs her eye, and scans the room briefly. “Oh, hi.”
Wonder Woman’s smile is strained as she gestures to the strange object on the monitor. “Marinette, dear, there’s an emergency that we think you can help us with.”
Marinette barely spares it a glance. “Huh. Tikki’s got the munchies again.”
Meanwhile, Batman turns to his fellow members. “You knew?”
Superman responds with wide eyes. “You found out?”
“It wasn’t their secret to tell, Dad,” Marinette butts in, yawning again. “They did the right thing.”
“By keeping this from me and my entire family?”
She scowls. “By giving me a chance to deal with the identity thing by myself.” She stretches her arm. “Also, can I deal with that big cookie later? I want to sleep.”
Flash snorts softly. Aquaman makes a somewhat amused sound. Wonder Woman raises her eyebrows. “This . . . it’s showing signs of crashing onto Earth, Marinette. We need to remove it as soon as possible.”
The young heroine whines a little as she looks at the monitor again. Her eyes narrow. “Wait a minute . . .”
In a second, Marinette is in front of the computer, pushing Batman away from the buttons. While Batman thinks that she’s working on solving the problem, she calls a familiar number instead and yells at the screen in front of the League.
“Damian Al Ghul Wayne!” Marinette screeches. “What have you done?”
“The kwamis are all safe, thank you very much,” Damian answers, face blase. “They are here, but you can’t see them.”
“Oh? Care to explain the giant cookie in space?” Marinette crosses her arms. Batman wants to massage his temple.
“It is not my doing.”
“And what have you fed Tikki this past hour?”
“I had Pennyworth make some ma’amoul and I gave her some as a treat.”
“She was obsessed over it, wasn't she?” Marinette put a palm to her face.
“She loved it and—”
“Where is she now?”
Damian pauses. “. . . She’s here. With me.”
Marinette points an accusatory finger. “Liar! I’ll make Dad ground you.”
“I was only granting her cravings and—” Damian turns to the side. “Ziggy! Trixx! Give the remote back!”
“Tikki’s. Munchies. Were. Underlined and Highlighted. On. The. List!”
In a fit of rage, Marinette hangs up, calls her transformation with the ring and angrily chews on a colored macaron. The others watch silently, too afraid or shocked to speak up.
She faces her father. “Please lecture your son.”
With that, she says a phrase to summon the power up and blasts off into space. The League watches her fly to the gigantic ma’amoul, catacylsming it with one touch and gliding back to Earth. Not even a minute has passed when she returns.
Marinette yawns for the umpteenth time. “Can I go nap now?”
LIX
“Hey Pix can I ask you something?”
Marinette puts down her sketchbook, looking at her brother at the head of the table. “Sure, what is it?”
“Your . . . Miraculouses.” Jason motions to his ears. “You have one that time travels right?”
Marinette averts gaze. “Yeah . . . why?”
“Have you ever gone back in time as a kid?”
“Umm . . .”
---
One Year Ago
Marinette dusts off her shoulder. Today, she’s dual-wielding the fox and the rabbit—the first for altering her appearance and the second for going back in time. She’s been asked a favor to deliver some messages so to be safe, she shifted into a younger version of herself. No suspicion. No traces.
She looks at the mirror. Hmm, guess this will do.
After completing an errand, a certain portal in the Burrow catches her eye. She recognizes Red Hood—Jason—and witnesses a killing: bullets straight to the chest, no mercy from the crime lord.
Out of curiosity, she hops into that timeline only to be greeted by her brother pointing his weapon at her. She imagines his eyes narrowing beneath the helmet. “Where did you come from, kid?”
Marinette hums, noting his appearance. This must be the time when Jason had just begun his illegal activities, before he had some reconciliation with the family.
“You better leave before you end up like them,” Red Hood growls, gesturing at a body.
Marinette only smiles. “You won’t shoot me.”
“And why not?”
You have a soft spot for kids. You won’t take an innocent life. She shrugs. “I just know you won’t.”
Prolonged silence.
“What do you want from me?”
Marinette thinks for a moment. “Come here.”
“What?”
“Come on, I have something to say to you.” She beckons him for a second time.
Tentatively, Red Hood crouches down to her level. Marinette moves, as if to whisper to his ear, but instead, she wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him tightly. She feels him stiffen, but he doesn’t pull away.
“You need this,” Marinette says softly. “Everything’s going to turn out okay, Jay. I promise.”
Before he can ask any more questions, she moves away, summons her Burrow and jumps back into it.
---
The second time she “interferes” in a timeline, it’s to see young Richard Grayson, freshly adopted by Batman and given the Robin role. Marinette leaps over an Old Gotham, successfully steering clear of her father but attempting to grab Robin’s attention. The high crime rate is evident at that time, when criminals are yet to fully fear the Bat and his fellow vigilantes.
Finally, she reaches one rooftop, sits next to a gargoyle, and Robin follows her there. He puts his hands on his hips, lips pursed. “Who are you?”
Marinette can’t stifle the giggles spilling from her lips. “They were right. You were more serious before.”
Robin slowly reaches for his belt, preparing to strike. “Who are you?”
Marinette ruffles to the top of his head. “I’m no enemy.”
He swats her hand away. “Right. Like I’ll believe you.”
“No weapons, see?” She raises her arms.
“You have that . . . flute. And umbrella.”
“Oh these? Pfft, these are more for defense, trust me.”
Robin isn’t convinced. He backs away from her, perhaps planning to get Batman before engaging.
“You like to do flips right?” Marinette asks.
“Ye—” He clears his throat. “I’m not telling you anything about me.”
She grins. “Smart boy. I like doing flips. Want to see some tricks?”
Marinette freezes all of a sudden, sensing the Bat nearby. As much as she wants to see her father, she can’t tell how it will affect the timeline if he sees her. “Oops, I gotta go!” She smiles sheepishly at Robin. “I’ll see you–um—back in the manor, Dick!”
Again, she makes her escape, leaving behind a bewildered Robin.
LX
“What’cha doing over there?”
The young boy stares at her for a full minute before returning the binoculars onto his face. “Watching Batman. Do you like Batman too?”
Marinette follows his sight, where Batman is beating up a group of thugs. “Ehh, he’s okay.”
“Do you want to be Robin too?” Tim asks with wide eyes.
She throws her head back and laughs out loud. “Me? A Robin? I’ll pass on that.”
“But being Robin is cool.” Tim’s voice turns small. “He needs more Robins.”
“He already had two.”
Tim hums in contemplation, fishing out his camera and snapping multiple photos. She watches him carefully, marveling at the little innocence and curiosity he had. He doesn’t know he’ll be a corporate executive and vigilante in the future, Marinette muses.
“You like investigating, huh?” Marinette ruffles his hair. Unlike Dick, Tim doesn’t recoil or react much.
“Better than being stuck at home.” He pouts. “I can’t believe his identity was so obvious.”
Marinette giggles again. “You and me both.”
---
As for Damian, Marinette isn’t looking for a heartfelt reunion. No. If I visit a young Dami, he will try to kill me and that’s not really a fun conversation. Instead, she focuses on another goal: getting blackmail material.
She jumps into the room in the League base, wrinkling her nose and finds a baby Damian sitting inside a crib. She snorts out a laugh, seeing that he already has his trademark grumpy look. With one tap on her flute, she captures image after image.
“You’re so cute when you were a baby.” She gently reaches down to poke his cheek. “I’m getting these for Alfred ‘cause you don’t have baby photos.”
Damian gurgles and clutches her finger around a tight fist.
“Aww,” Marinette whispers.
“Who’s there?” The door flings open, accompanying the feminine voice yelling in Arabic. Marinette doesn’t have a chance to slip away when she comes face to face with a woman.
Talia’s expression immediately softens and she switches to English. “You did not tell me you’ll be dropping by.”
Marinette mentally wipes off her cold sweat. “Sorry, mama.”
“What are you doing with your brother?”
The fox-rabbit heroine glides over to Talia to give her a tight hug. “Collecting pictures. Y’know, just to mess with him.” She smiles. “You never took baby pictures.”
“No, I haven’t,” Talia sighs. “However, I do remember having a portrait of him painted. Do you want to see it?”
Baby Damian suddenly coos, earning their attention. Talia scoops him up and hands him over to Marinette. Her fingers tremble slightly as she hefts her brother in her arms. Damian doesn’t shy away; he snuggles deep into her embrace.
“Smile, Dami!” Marinette uses her flute to take a selfie of them both.
Chapter 13: Parts 61-65
Chapter Text
LXI
Her father was right. Alfred was right. As soon as she steps into the threshold, she sees her own semblance to Martha Wayne. Her grandparents stare at her slack-jawed, and she realizes that she has interrupted their tea-time.
Martha carefully places her cup back on the saucer. “Who are you?”
“I’m—um . . .” She’s been asked the same question numerous times at each timeline visit. For the first time, she’s at a loss for words.
But I can only tell the truth at this point, right? She drops her transformation. “. . . I’m your granddaughter.”
The couple’s faces bear shock as they look at each other to converse silently. Marinette awkwardly fidgets in place while they make a deliberation. Finally, Martha pats the chair next to her. “Why don’t you take a seat, dear?”
“Thank you,” Marinette breathes out.
“You’re from the future, yes?” Thomas asks.
“Yes, I am.” She nods.
Martha puts her hand on her forearm. She’s surprised how warm, how welcoming, her touch is, almost as if she inherently recognizes her grandmother’s tenderness. “How is our Bruce?” Martha’s eyebrows knit together. “How is your father?”
“He’s . . .he’s okay.” Marinette offers a reassuring smile. “He’s content with his life . . . I think.” If dressing up as a winged animal and beating up bad guys spell out ‘content’ for B. “You don’t have to worry. In fact, he—we—have a big family now.”
“Oh?” Thomas chuckles. “Is that really our Bruce?”
“Yeah! He’s got like seven kids?” Marinette does the mental math.
Martha puts a hand to her chest. “Seven? Goodness!”
“Oh, nine if you count Babs and Steph. And I’m pretty sure he’s emotionally adopted some of my friends.” Marinette’s eyes widen. “But most are adopted! There are only two of us who are biological . . . well, three in the future if he finally ties the knot with Selina.”
Her grandfather smiles tenderly. “ I feared that he’d feel neglected since we couldn’t spend too much time with him with all this work . . . but it sounds like he has things figured out.”
“More or less.” His path to where he is now wasn’t easy but he’s happy. Even if it wasn’t what he initially pictured for himself.
“You turned out to be a fine young lady,” says Martha, eyes welling with tears. “I’m sure our Bruce did well. Thank you.”
They didn’t ask about themselves. They won’t know what will happen to them . . . Marinette swallows. But they’d probably care more about Dad’s wellbeing either way.
She takes another look at her young grandparents, taking time to memorize their faces. Clearing her throat, she transformed again. “Um . . . do you mind if I take a photograph?”
---
“Pix?”
Marinette shakes her head. “Sorry. I spaced out for a sec. What was that?”
Jason narrows his eyes. “Have you visited the past before? Like in Gotham?”
“In Gotham? Not really. I only use the Rabbit Miraculous for emergencies,” she replies. “Why do you ask?”
He frowns, perhaps recalling the deeply-etched memory. “Nevermind.”
LXII
The door reveals a perky blue-eyed boy who greets the butler with a wide smile. “Hey Alfred!” Jon says.
“Master Kent. I believe Master Damian is away on a mission today—”
“Oh, I’m not here for Damian.” He waves the thought away. “Is Marinette home?”
Alfred raises an eyebrow but does not question him. “Yes, she is in her room.”
“Cool, I’ll go on ahead.” Jon speeds past him and into the threshold, flying straight to the second floor.
Meanwhile, Alfred shrugs off the odd encounter, despite knowing that Jon rarely hangs out with the other Waynes if Damian is not around. Perhaps they have urgent business to attend to.
—
Dick whistles as he grabs his jacket and pulls it on. Keys, complete. Phone, here. Wallet, check. He reaches for the doorknob and is about to step outside when he sees a familiar face waiting at the front.
“Wally?” He tilts his head. “What’s up? I’m heading back to Bludhaven, I told you yesterday—”
“Yeah, I know.” The speedster buries his hands in his pockets. “I’m not here for you though.”
Dick blinks once. “Um . . . what?”
“Look at that!” A gasp sounds out a few feet away. Both men turn to see Kory and Roy hiking up the driveway.
“You’re here for the commission too?” Roy asks Wally, who nods.
“Wait, what’s going on here?” Dick frowns.
“Dick, you never told us how wonderful your sister is!” Kory clasps her hands together. “We asked her to make outfits for us.”
“MDC originals are rare these days,” Roy adds. “We’re lucky we got a spot in the queue.”
“You commissioned Mari and you didn’t tell me?” Dick puts a hand to his chest in mock offense.
“Is she home?” Wally inquires.
Dick gestures to his right. “She’s working in the main hall right now—”
Before he can finish, all three file into the manor, eager to meet the famous designer. Dick is left at the foyer, frowning and grumbling under his breath. “I was going to invite you for drinks but sure, pay more attention to my sister.”
LXIII
Tim is about to take his breakfast up to his room (earning himself reproachful glances from Alfred) when he hears laughter from the main lounge area. It’s delightful laughter, not the ugly, devilish ones his brothers chortle out when they successfully pull off another prank on Dick. So he knows it’s not any of them.
He peeks into the room and nearly drops his plate.
They’re all sitting in a circle, chatting and giggling around Marinette as she multitasks between sketching designs and entertaining them. Kon’s large figure is draped on the sofa as he animatedly talks about one of his adventures. Bart is sitting cross-legged on the floor, while Cassie is beside Marinette, imparting her witty retorts and receiving everyone’s laughs in response.
Tim rubs his eyes. Maybe I need more sleep.
“Oh, hey Tim!” Marinette waves. “Good morning, sleepyface.”
Tim blushes a deep shade of red as his friends snicker at his rubber duck pajamas. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Mari’s making new designs for us,” Bart replies. “Inspired by our superhero alter egos. Isn’t that cool?”
Tim snorts. Just because Marinette has revealed herself, she has taken the liberty of stealing their hero friends. Dick hasn’t stopped whining about it since the previous day. He won’t be surprised if she comes for Bernard next.
“Whatever. I’m gonna go eat.” He makes a sharp hasty turn and stalks back to the kitchen.
—
Dick buries his head in his hands. “It’s all over! She’s got them too!”
Jason, carrying a bunch of groceries for Alfred, and Steph, who brought the drinks the family ordered, stroll into the kitchen.
“Who’s got who?” Jason asks.
The eldest’s face curls into a sour expression as he points towards the dining hall. Marinette is there, surrounded by members of the Justice League in civilian form: Diana, Clark, Hal, Barry, Zatanna, Dinah, Oliver, and Arthur. The room is lively just from their chatter over lunch.
“She’s got Bruce’s friends too!” Dick says, devastated.
Steph guffaws. “Don’t you know they’ve been friends for a long time now? Like since Ladybug joined the League?”
Dick’s face turns grim. “This situation is much worse than I thought.”
Jason rolls his eyes. “Really, Dickie, it’s usually just for commissions. She’s not actually stealing our friends.”
“Roy visited her the other day! With Kory!”
“. . . Okay we need to do something about this.”
—
Marinette walks down the street, lugging along multiple rolls of fabric and supplies for her new commission. She’s glad to have other heroes as fans of her work—it’s an opportunity to work on new designs other than ones inspired by her family.
As she heads towards the bus stop, she stops on her tracks, recognizing a group of people sitting around a table outside a cozy cafe. Dick leaning back on his chair, sunglasses on; Jason is sipping from his drink; Tim chugging down his coffee; and Damian has his permanent scowl on.
Along with them are her friends. Adrien, Kagami, Chloe, Luka, Juleka and even Felix.
She marches up towards them, hands on her hips, glare directed at Dick. “Oh my god. You guys are so petty.”
“It was Jason’s idea,” says Dick nonchalantly.
Marinette stares at Jason. “You fucking drama queen.”
He grins. “Thank you.”
She rolls her eyes, returning her friends’ greetings. Leaning down, she presses a quick peck on Felix’s cheek. “Invite them to the manor tonight for dinner since you dragged them all the way here,” she instructed her brothers.
“Maybe we’ll go out to dinner ourselves.” Dick crosses his arms.
LXIV
"Okay everyone, gather 'round." Marinette guides the group of kwamis around her. They obdiently arrange themselves in a circle, with Trixx and Plagg shoving each other playfully and Kaalki and Barkk huffing beside them.
"As you may know," she says carefully, "Damian's not allowed to babysit you anymore."
"Aww!"
"Why not?"
"I liked him!"
"Well, obviously, his kwami-sitting didn't work out." Marinette looks at a guilt-stricken Tikki. "So I'm taking a different approach."
She takes a deep breath. "I'm going to let the others take care of you."
The kwamis all flit forward, shouting out their picks.
"I want the most famous one! The fanciest!"
"Ooh, I am looking to serve the short-haired girl. She is beautiful!"
"The acrobat one please, Guardian!"
Marinette raises her hands. "The catch is that I get to choose who you're with."
The mini gods buzz with excitement as she brings out her tablet. "Let's see . . ." She taps on her list. "First, Tikki and Plagg will still be with me. It's too dangerous to have you both with anyone else."
Plagg grumbles while Tikki nods. Marinette makes a mental note to give Plagg more cheese, since she's been too restrictive lately.
"Okay, good," she continues. "Trixx, I'll still need you tonight for patrol, but for the meantime, you'll be with Dick. Xuppu, Daizzi, Fluff and Roarr will join you. Next, Duusu, Ziggy, Orikko, Mullo, Jason will have you. Barkk, Wayzz, Sass, Longg, you're with Tim and Pollen, Kaalki, Nooroo, and Stompp, you're with Stephanie."
"Do we not get the pretty lady?" Kaalki huffs.
Marinette offers an apologetic smile. "Cass is busy right now, but Steph's pretty willing to kwami-sit. You'll love her, I promise."
"Erm---" Tikki side-eyes her fellow kwamis. "Why did you put the . . . calm ones in a single group?"
A gleam flickers on her eye. "I have my reasons."
---
"Trixx! Ack! Get back here!" Dick lunges at the counter but the kwamis effortlessly phase through him and hover away, giggling. "Xuppu, don't eat that!"
Daizzi flies around in a circle, laughing. "The Guardian is right! This one is the most fun out of all of them."
The eldest Wayne boy rubs his temple. "Why? Why do I even try? You guys won't listen to me after all."
Jason strolls into the kitchen, carrying a bag of assorted snacks. Floating behind him are his assigned kwamis, following him like chicks to a mother hen. "What's the problem?" Jason snickers.
"Can't control them," Dick whines, watching helplessly as the kwamis begin to thrash the kitchen, flipping pots and pans and using all the utensils as fake weapons. Alfred is so going to get him for this.
"What, like it's hard?" Jason picks out a berry from his bag to feed to an eager Duusu. Mullo tries to grab it, but Jason tuts. "Mullo, wait for your turn please."
The kwami pouts but moves to the back of their line. "Okay."
"Next time we should practice what?"
"Manners," the four kwamis chorus.
Jason smiles, handing a sunflower seed to Orikko. "Nice. Anyone up for training down the Batcave?"
LXV
Tim groans for the thousandth time, plopping his head down next to the keyboard. Longg appears in front him, emitting a jovial mood. “Young master, maybe breathing exercises will help? Count with me now . . .”
“What about some sleep?” Barkk suggests from her spot on top of the Red Robin rubber duck beside the monitor.
“I can’t—I can’t waste too much time,” Tim sighs, “And I can’t sleep from all the coffee I had.
“Catching a tiny break or two isn’t bad,” Wayzz flits by, patting him on the head.
“Aren’t I the kwami-sitter?” Tim raises an eyebrow. “Why are you guys the one taking care of me?”
It looks like this is what Marinette wanted to achieve,” Sass pipes up, “We’ve been helpful in keeping her grounded during her early Guardian days. Along with Tikki.”
“Not surprised she has an ulterior motive,” Tim mumbles and clears his throat. “Anyway . . . how about those breathing exercises?”
—
“Damian! You’re banned, remember?”
For the first time, Damian “I have a perpetual ‘I will kill you’ face” Wayne bears an expression akin to a kicked puppy. Stephanie shoos him out of the room despite his attempts in trying to take a look at the kwamis.
“You cannot take care of them properly!” He protests.
“Shush. As if you did.” Steph rolls her eyes and finally shuts the door. She turns to the group of kwamis. “So . . . what should we do now?”
Kaalki dives right in front of her face, mere inches away from her nose. “Are you rich and famous?”
“Me? Duh!” Steph preens. “I have–like—two of Bruce’s credit cards and I’m Spoiler. Of course I’m famous!”
The kwamis all marvel at her unsung prowess, ‘ooh’ing and ‘aah’ing when she told them a few stories.
“Can I call you ‘your Majesty’?” Pollen asks.
“Sure. That’s one of my pronouns after all.” She smirks. “Hey, do you guys want to go shopping?”
Chapter 14: Parts 66-70
Notes:
Part 67 is actually a series of generated tweets. I put them in text format here, but you can check out the Tumblr post if you want to see them in tweet form.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
LXVI
Spooky: Has anyone seen Marinette?
Dee: Is she not in your house?
ItsNotActuallyAnS: On a mission?
Spooky: Did anyone give her a mission?
DramaQueen: I think I saw her in the Watchtower a few hours ago
Nyoom: cnt u trck hr?
Glowstick: Type properly, Bars
Nyoom: can’t you track her?
Spooky: I think she’s transformed as Ladybug. I can’t track her when she’s transformed.
#ForeverSalty: Have you asked your million other children?
Spooky: . . .
Spooky: Of course I have. Why do you think I’m asking here?
—
“You know,” Tim mumbles, typing a set of coordinates into the Batcomputer. “Maybe she doesn’t want to be found.”
Damian shoots him a look that can kill. “What if she’s in trouble?”
“If Marinette is in trouble, she will A, send an alert of her location or B, tell her friends.” Tim leans back. “Also, I think Alfred knows where she is and he’s not panicking.”
“But Father is.”
Tim winces, hoping Bruce won’t activate multiple emergency protocols just to find Marinette. “Yeah, we need to tell him to relax.”
“Todd is restless as well.”
“Because of last time.” A sigh escapes Tim. “She’ll be back before dinner, I’m sure.”
—
Clark stretches his limbs and begins his journey to the north. Bruce has been talking his ear off the whole day, telling him repeatedly to keep an ear out for Marinette. Of course, he can’t sense her heartbeat while she’s in the suit, but he has heard her voice at some point and it sounds like she’s not in danger.
And yet when he tells this to her father, he doesn’t believe him.
As the glinting crystals of the Fortress come into view, he senses four, not three people inside. Clark makes a mental count. Conner said he might drop by with Jon. There’s Kara too.
Everything becomes clear to him when he enters and sees them all huddled in a circle with Ladybug, playing cards with the essence of Jor-El.
“Aw damn, I lost again.” Ladybug throws her hand down. Her turns and her eyes light up when she sees Clark. “Oh, hi Uncle C.”
Clark clears his throat. “Marinette, your father has been looking for you.”
She briefly checks her yoyo. “Is it late already?” Her smile turns sheepish. “Oops.”
“How did you get here anyway?”
The heroine gestures to the other Supers. “I was flying back from Paris when I saw them on the way here.”
“So we invited Mari!” Jon continues.
Clark rubs his head. “Bruce will kill me.”
LXVII
- Marinette - Baby DCW @/marinettewayneofficial
- Damian - bloody son @/damiwayne
- Tim - head bitch in charge - @/timdrakewayne
- Jason - jay jay - @/jtoddwayne
- Dick - flying dick - @/officialdgrayson
- Cass - casserole - @/cassandracainwayne
- Steph - can I please have a waffle? - @/stephb
- Duke - dukey - @/dthomaswayne
- Barbara - Barbara Gordon - @/babsgordon
- Bruce - Bruce Wayne - @/officialbrucewayne
Mari: who the fuck stole my pie at 3 am
Mari: was it you @/jtoddwayne
Jason: why would i steal your pie at 3 am
Duke: how did you know he stole it at 3 am?
Mari: i checked the kitchen at 2:30 am it was still there
Tim: the fridge has an electronic lock now. My iced coffee is inside. Thanks a lot @/jtoddwayne
Jason: I DON’T STEAL PIES
Damian: false. Marinette said you’ve stolen pies at multiple occasions already
Jason: no i bet it was @/officialdgrayson
Duke: how will I eat…
Babs: got a request to hack into a fridge today. Weird.
Mari: rest in peace my lovely pie. You will be missed #justiceformypie (insert pic)
Jason: what’s the fridge password
Mari: FUCK YOU
Steph: jay that’s rude.she’s mourning + emojis
Jason: I DIDN’T STEAL ANY PIE
Cass: rest in peace, little pie
Jason: istg it was dick
Dick: it wasn’t me
Damian: todd we cannot get food from the fridge. This is your fault
Duke: insert guy walking into fire meme
Cass: Marinette made pie enamel pins. Very cool.
Duke: i literally only went to the door to get the pizza from the delivery guy
Tim: i think we need to pull up the lazpit again. Mari’s gone feral
Jason: i’ll find that pie thief. Wait til i get my hands on u
LXVIII
The gala is in a full swing—already too lively for Marinette's taste. She's grown too tired from sipping on her refreshments and staring at the rich people singing faux praises and other people of the press trying to curry favor with them. Her cheeks ache from forcefully polite smiles, and her feet throb from her heels.
A man approaches her: a reporter, no doubt. Neatly groomed and airing out confidence.
"Miss Wayne." He grins. "Or shall I say MDC? Jamison Bowen, Gotham Gazette."
Marinette raises her eyebrows. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."
"No, it is all my pleasure." He shakes his head. "I never imagined meeting the famous fashion designer who rocked the entire world. It must be a busy life for you."
"It is." She keeps her tone lively but words brief. Anything she says might end up in headline print after all.
"But it must be easy, you know, being a Wayne and all that." He laughs, looking towards Bruce Wayne in his 'Brucie' element while entertaining some of the guests. "You are truly lucky, Miss."
Marinette lowers her glass. "I'm sorry? What is that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, I just thought that you are fortunate enough to be bear one of the most important names in the business world and have that help you in nurturing your talent—"
"I have been designing and taking commissions since I was thirteen, Monsieur. Even before I came to live with my father. Before I knew he was my father. I can list off a few names who can vouch for me." Marinette clenches her jaw.
Jamison pales and visibly backtracks. "Right, right, I'm aware of that, yes. I only meant that—that—your father must be really proud of you. Among all his children . . ."
"His children?"
"Yes." He wears a tight smile. "With his first ward always absent, his second having strange rumors about him, and the third! The third can't quite act like a proper CEO with his childish antics. And that quiet girl, and violent boy, and is it true that Bruce was just forced to adopt that last one?"
Marinette is a hair's breadth away from breaking her glass with her bare hands. She's used to the rumors surrounding her, but hearing the insults about her family makes her want to strangle this man.
He laughs again. "Oh well, but what to expect? That's Bruce Wayne after all. Eccentric billionaire with eccentric children. Except you, of course."
Her hands clench and shake as she averts her eyes. Don't cause a scene. Not here, Mari. It'll only bring trouble.
"It's astounding that you ever qualified as a journalist," a new voice chimes in.
"Mi—Miss Lane." The reporter does a double take. "It's an honor—"
"You dared to criticize the Wayne family in front of Marinette herself. You're a dead man walking, Bowen," Lois says icily.
"But—but I was just—" he sputters.
"I suggest you leave before I have you fired myself."
That does the trick. He scurries away pitifully, in search of another socialite to prey on.
The tension leaves from Marinette's shoulders. "Thank you, auntie," she sighs in relief. "I'm sorry, I—I don't normally get riled up by these things and—and I know my siblings couldn't care less about what others think of them but . . ."
"It's okay, sweetie." Lois puts a hand on her shoulder. "If it were me, I would've socked him straight on the face already."
A familiar bespectacled man joins them, bringing drinks for himself and Lois. "And if it were me, I would've launched him straight to space. You handled that well, Marinette."
"Dad's better at . . . Pretending," Marinette mumbles.
Clark snorts. "Not all of us can be Brucie."
"It's okay to get angry, especially from that," Lois reassures, "Your siblings and father would've felt the same."
Marinette tucks a hair behind her ear. "Do you guys have work tonight or . . .?"
"We can join you for the rest of the night," Lois offers, smiling softly.
LXIX
There’s nothing much to do at a fancy gala.
Scratch that—there is absolutely nothing to do at a fancy gala. The boredom is a torture to experience. But such suffering doesn’t last long if one stirs up trouble to compensate for the bleakness of the party.
Tim glances at Marinette. Tuck hair behind the ear, then after one . . . two seconds pick up glass. Okay that’s the go signal. He strides past the refreshments table and—with just the right amount of stealth—sticks his foot out to trip the man going past him with his posse.
. . . but he’s caught just in time before he plummets into the multi-tiered cake. He stands upright, brushes himself and laughs it off with the group.
He adjusts his tie in Marinette’s view. Proceed to the next step.
She immediately springs into action.
—
“You must be MDC!” The man beams at her brightly, with the same practiced fakeness her father has mastered.
“Monsieur Luthor.” Marinette smiles back tightly. “Perfect timing. I’ve been wanting to show you the suit you commissioned.”
“Oh?”
She keeps her excitement at bay. Lex Luthor commissioned MDC a couple months ago, but it wasn’t until two weeks ago when he found out that she was actually Bruce Wayne’s daughter. “Yes, here.” She shows him her phone (and his posse peeks as well), revealing a business suit with the pants cropped too short and the color matching his exact skin shade.
Lex coughs. “That’s quite . . . unique.”
“It is, isn’t it?” She zooms into the fine details. “I thought it would match your head.”
“My head?” he asks through clenched teeth.
“Yup! All the craze these days.” She nods. “People will be asking for the same piece once you’ve shown this to the world.”
“Ah, and here’s the other piece!” She swipes to the left to show a tackier outfit, with a rainbow of colors splashed on the top half and loud checkers on the bottom.
—
Tim’s turn again. He grabs his phone from his pocket and presses a button. In the middle of his conversation with Marinette, a loud ringtone cuts through: the tune of Baby Shark. Heads turn and Luthor turns into a bright cherry.
He furiously taps on his phone but instead of stopping the obnoxious sound, it ups the volume. Tim hides his snickers behind his hand.
Finally, the bald man throws his phone down, making one hasty excuse after another.
Tim grins. He’s cracking.
Marinette touches the inside of her wrist. For the finale . . .
Tim stumbles into the group, holding a glass filled with deep red wine inside. “Mr. Luthor! How nice to see you here.”
“Good to see you as well, Mr. Drake,” he says with a strain in his voice.
Tim doesn’t even make it discreet. He stumbles forward and splashes his drink all over the man’s white suit. Lex jumps back, rage dancing in his irises.
“I’m so sorry!” Tim gasps out, taking his handkerchief. “Let me clean that for you—”
“No, it’s alright!” Lex steps backwards, holding his palm out.
“But I insist—”
“Stay right there! I will go clean this myself—”
“I want to help—”
A deafening crash echoes in the ballroom. Lex has collided with the lavish cake, icing dripping down on the top of his head and the chocolate interior smushed against the fabric of his jacket.
—
“Bruce Wayne!”
Bruce barely bats an eye at Lex Luthor, who is marching straight towards him. “Yes, Lexie?”
“Don’t ‘yes Lexie’ me!” He growls. “Control your children! They are—they are wild animals! They humiliated me in front of everyone and ruined my suit. How can you let this happen?!”
Bruce frowns, looking over at Marinette and Tim, who are entertaining potential partners for WE. “I’m sorry, Lexie, I’m not sure what you’re talking about. My children are angels. They will never harm others.”
“Never harm—?!” Lex laughs out loud. “I think you haven’t been watching them closely.”
Bruce sips on his drink. “There’s no need to watch them closely. How can you even think that they can do such things? My babies will never. And what would they have against you?”
LXX
She’s just about to carry the carton of milk out of the kitchen when something catches her eye. There, on the bottom of the fridge, a paper is attached with a tacky ‘I love Gotham’ magnet. Marinette recognizes it as Damian’s drawing of Batcow and Titus positioned next to each other.
Her lip curls into a pout while she pours her milk. Must be Dad who put it there. Hm. But not the design sketch he asked from me last week.
She knew that sketch is currently in her father’s office but having Damian’s work on the fridge is different. It’s public. It shows Bruce’s pride. Marinette taps her fingers on the kitchen island as she takes a swig straight from the carton.
She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Time to get to work.
—
A couple days later, it’s Damian who first sees the newest update on the fridge’s double doors. He spots the sketch after a training session, noting how Marinette’s work is purposefully drawn in a paper larger than his and it’s attached to the fridge in a way that it slightly covers his artwork.
Damian glares at it. Two can play it that way.
—
“The atrocity!” Marinette gasps dramatically. “How can Dad even agree to put that up on the fridge? And how? ”
This time it’s not a thick piece of paper on a fridge. It’s a full square-shaped canvas, wooden frame and all, stuck to the fridge. Painted on it is a depiction of the Batcave from a top view.
“I’m surprised Alfred agreed to have that there,” Tim says, tilting his head.
“He’s so petty. He’s awfully petty,” Marinette rants.
“And you’re not?”
She scoffs. “But I’m actually Dad’s favorite.”
“Hm.”
—
Damian grits his teeth. Marinette has taken it up a notch—she has created a paper mache figurine of the Bat symbol and it somehow stuck to the fridge.
She cheekily smiles, leaning on the kitchen doorway.
“What are you going to do next?” Marinette crosses her arms smugly. “A clay model? Let’s see how that stays on the fridge.”
Damian rolls his eyes. “You do know that Father will find a way to attach it whatever it might be right?”
“He’ll give up on your next one.”
—
“ What the actual fuck?! ” Marinette yells. “That fucker!”
It’s not a statue, nor a figurine on the fridge but an actual working Wayne tablet, with a digital painting displayed on its screen.
Dick howls with laughter beside her.
Notes:
That concludes Fox DCW! For now :) The next parts are under work but they will be posted first in Tumblr before reposting in AO3. Thanks for reading!
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