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How We Fell: Ch. 13

Day 13: Mother in Law/Cocoa

AO3

Prev

Marinette lets a small smile fall on her face as she walks around and marvels at the beauty of Paris at night. The summer was nearly over, and she was almost completely moved into her apartment in Gotham. She’d come back to Paris to get the last of her things and spend a few more days with her friends and family. After all, she probably wouldn’t be back until Christmas. Sudden movement in the alley to her left makes Marinette pause. If it was anywhere besides Paris, she’d just keep moving. But this is Paris. Petty crime is so far down, it’s practically nonexistent. Someone might actually need help, and she’s one of three Parisian heroes. She didn’t have a choice. Taking a deep breath, Marinette silently walks towards the figures shrouded in darkness. One of the figures melts out of the shadows, the figure clearly a woman. The other figures that seemed to spring from the shadows appeared to be men. But why would this woman bring over half a dozen men with her? What was going on? Just as she decides to back up and get out of there before something crazy could happen, she bumps into a trashcan. The metal lid clangs to the ground, the sound a sharp hit in her ear. All of the figures snap to defensive positions, the woman relaxing slightly as she moves forward, a smirk on her face.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” The woman taunts, making Marinette frown. Why did it seem like the woman knew her? Why was Tikki fluttering around nervously in her purse? (Marinette could tell because of the unnatural way the bag was moving, movement that wouldn’t be obvious if you weren’t holding the bag or a detective or something).

“I think you have the wrong person.” She says. The woman chuckles.

“What, dear, do you not recognize your future mother in law?” She taunts, a hint of anger clear on her face. Marinette blinks in confusion.

Keep reading

Harley’s Plea for Help, Chapter 8

Chapters 1.....2.....3.....4.....5.....6.....7.....8(you are here)

Four Days Ago

Footsteps echoed on the stone of the Batcave. Batman and Robin wordlessly climbed the steps towards the Batcomputer and their surveillance team of Alfred and Barbara, who were waiting for them. Even as the engines of several bikes both arriving and just being shut off signaled the staggered arrival of the other bat boys, Batman did not call out any greetings or even turn his head to acknowledge anybody. All he could do was turn the thumb drive that he had just received around in his fingers, allowing his guard to drop in a way that was all too rare even when among only family. The habit of constantly being on guard even when safe was helpfully overridden by pure curiosity and, even more excitingly, a challenge that ignited the competitor inside the aging man.

Yes, a city was in danger. But it couldn’t be an immediate thing, not if Marinette had taken the time to commit to a long trip in Gotham and had originally planned to seek them out the time-consuming way. So it was urgent, but not something that required him to mobilize right that second. Which meant he could take a bit of time to enjoy the mystery, the challenge, without family or friends at risk yet.

“Well,” Dick’s voice popped the bubble of Bruce’s thoughts, finally making him look up from the thumb drive. “We all knew the mission to protect Harley’s daughter was gonna go off the rails somehow,” he cheerfully pointed out as he leaned over with his forearms braced against the back of a chair.

“Yeah,” Tim agreed with a sarcastic lilt to his voice as he rolled his eyes. “But we didn’t expect to suddenly find out that the JLE are a bunch of lying assholes. They not only withhold that they were relocating to Italy, but they misled all of us by speaking in French during international JL meetings and never correcting anyone when their placement was identified as France.”

“They hid in plain sight too,” Barbara told them with a grimace. After all, it was she who had confirmed for them all over their comms that what Marinette had said was true. “An easy switch of our location and I was unable to access their HQ information and some statements they’ve made in Italy. But they were careful to keep things quiet and any announcements limited to local news.”

Batman crossed over the rest of the way to the Batcomputer, setting the thumb drive down and looking over the screens at what Barbara was able to pull up. Sure enough, a few local headlines from both Italy and Paris dated back about five years ago were up there detailing the JLE’s order to vacate Paris. He sighed, making a mental note to tell the core members of the JLA during their meeting and decide how to handle this blatant withholding of important information.

“What about the Hawkmoth situation?” Batman asked, seeing that none of the screens showed any recent Parisian news. Barbara huffed, clearly thoroughly annoyed.

“That’s the thing. Changing our location brings up old news, anything older than three years. It also brings up normal things, like some political headlines, a few social media feeds, but nowhere near enough pops up to be considered a city’s worth of internet presence. And some social media posts contained a keyword or two that would glitch and shut down the entire monitor it was on, but wouldn’t damage our computer system at all. Afterwards, that post was invisible too and no amount of searching brought it back up,” she waved her hands at the screen in frustration. “And when I say ‘no amount of searching’, I mean that the amount of available Parisian media from the past three years is slim enough that I found all of it in two hours. All of it. That’s more than suspicious.”

Batman and everyone else present grimaced. In trying to hide evidence of what was going on, politics and magic just made it all the more obvious to anyone doing a deep dive that something wasn’t right.

“Tim,” he turned to address Red Robin, tapping the USB with one finger. “Run the thumb drive through all our usual security. I’m pretty sure Marinette was being genuine, but it’s better to err on the side of caution. Afterwards, you and anyone else with time can begin analyzing whatever is on there. I’ll make a call to Constantine to see if he can do anything about the magic that is almost certainly blocking our access to Parisian media,” Batman paused, realized what he just said, and visibly sunk into himself with a deep sigh. Ugh. He hated contacting Constantine. It always gave him a headache. But, even though he went through all his options again, he knew it was his best bet. Constantine, with his many, many, many faults, was the magic user most likely to be blunt with Bruce and help him out as long as it was worth his time. Didn’t mean Bruce had to like it.

“Better you than me,” Jason teased with a grin. “I’m going back home for now. Keep me updated, Replacement.” The usual nickname left Jason’s mouth out of pure habit, but Tim knew Jason well enough to recognize the nuances of his tone of voice. Jason wasn’t trying to be antagonistic, this time. And Tim knew just how much Jason truly needed to stay close to this mission. He’d keep Jason updated. Even if the man complained about him blowing up his phone later.

“Don’t forget you have to meet her class at seven in the morning for their tour!” Bruce called after Jason. He just grunted and waved one hand to show that he heard before jumping back on his bike, pulling his helmet over his head, and zooming out. Bruce sighed again. If he had stayed longer, Bruce would have warned Jason to have all his identification ready since Madame Mendelieve was known for being a stickler for rules and would definitely want to see proof that he was the class’ security guard. Oh well. Jason would just have to figure it out in the morning the hard way.

Tim was already hunched over a piece of equipment that he had inserted the thumb drive into. Bruce sighed at the sight— it was all too common. He inched over towards Barbara, never moving his eyes from the most workaholic of his sons. “Think you could spend a little extra time helping him out?” He asked the woman quietly. “That way maybe he’ll make enough progress to actually sleep tonight.”

Barbara looked first at Bruce, then turned her head to see what Tim was up to. Immediately understanding dawned on her face, which quickly turned to find exasperation.

“What’ll you be doing?” She asked instead of answering. Bruce just jerked his head to indicate where Damian was.

The young Robin was sat on one of the steps leading back into the mansion, mask still on and his chin gently resting on his steepled fingers. he was glaring off into a third space that none of them could see, clearly deep in thought and not likely to voice any of what was going through his head to anyone. Dick would normally be the best choice for getting the boy to open up, but the original Robin was busy whispering to Alfred about something. It didn’t seem like the two had any intention of letting anyone else in on their hushed conversation, nor were there any signs of it being over anytime soon. Plus, Bruce was trying to actually take advantage of any and every opportunity he had to actually act like a father to his only biological son. They had made a lot of progress over the last several years.

Barbara just needed one glance at Damian before she let out a small hum of understanding. “Divide and conquer, then,” she said to him good-naturedly before closing out of the windows open on the Batcomputer, backing up, and wheeling over to Tim to help him check the safety of Marinette’s USB drive.

That taken care of, Bruce set his cowl down on the desk and walked over to sit next to his youngest son. Damian had noticed him approach, but his only reaction had been to make room for his father to sit. Otherwise, the boy remained silent and contemplative. Bruce knew that he occasionally just needed some time to think over things on his own, so he made himself comfortable and waited for Damian to be ready to talk. There were plenty of exits for the others to use if they wanted to leave the Batcave, so they wouldn’t need to get up anytime soon.

Finally Damian’s posture straightened. Bruce, fairly good at reading Damian’s body language by then, picked up on the silent cue and leaned forward. Damian still wouldn’t open up on his own most of the time, he usually needed gentle prodding before he would start to speak about his problems.

“What’s on your mind, son?”

Damian sighed, frown deep on his lips. “When I was younger,” he hesitated, but after a brief pause seemed to gather his thoughts again and continue. “... After you brought me back. I noticed my eyes are just like my mother’s.”

Bruce’s eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion, but he didn’t say anything yet. He had a feeling that this would have to be a long conversation. Sure enough Damian was only silent for a few seconds before speaking again.

“It was something I knew already. But it wasn’t until then, after she murdered me and you revived me, that I saw my eyes in the mirror and resented them. I wanted nothing of hers. And yet, gouging out my own eyes is not a feasible plan of action.”

“... contacts are an option,” was the first thing Bruce said. “No need to jump to drastic measures, Damian. But I didn’t realize you felt that way. You do know that—“

“I do not resent them anymore,” Damian interrupted him. “Do not worry about my wellbeing. I did say that this was when I was younger, did I not? I have made my peace with the fact that my mother is not a loving or good person. I don’t hate that I am related to her anymore. That is not my point.”

Bruce frowned, not in anger but rather slight confusion. “Then what is your point?” He asked softly. Damian sighed through his nose, leaning back to rest his weight on his elbows and the next step behind him. He first looked up at the bats resting on the cave ceiling before turning to lock eyes with his father.

“There have been nights in the past where I found a new similarity that I share with Mother. The personality traits are the hardest, always. I have had nights where I wonder if I have more Assassin in me than Bat. If I am more like Mother than I am you.”

Bruce’s shoulders fell at that admission, face going a little slack. “Oh, Damian,” he breathed. He slowly draped his arm around his son’s shoulders, giving Damian time to pull away if he wanted to. He did not. “First of all, I know that Alfred showed you pictures of me from when I was your age. By far, you take more after me,” he said proudly, grinning at Damian. The lighthearted statement did it’s job and lightened the mood a bit, and Damian wasn’t as stiff. “Secondly. Your mother is a lot of things,” Bruce paused to snort at his own memories of Talia. Very few were good, anymore. “But she does not dictate who you are. Neither do any traits you might have inherited or learned from her. The only one with any power to decide what kind of person you are or become, is you. And you can use those traits that you got from her to your advantage, you can use them to do the things she can’t or won’t. But they are not her traits. Regardless of where you got them, they are part of you and not her. You choose what to do with them.”

A long moment of silence passed between them. The Damian said;

“I hope you memorized that speech.”

Bruce blinked, then turned to look down at his son again. “Pardon?”

Damian looked up, then gave his signature smirk. “I did not require your consoling, though I appreciate it. Someone else might need that speech, though.”

Bruce was once again confused, and it showed in his frown and the creases between his brows. “I… don’t follow.”

“Dupain-Cheng,” Damian clarified. “When we met her earlier. It is true that the most glaring similarities in her behavior are to Quinn, but that is not all I noticed. In fact, I think you have been affected by her in a similar way and simply haven’t realized it.”

“What do you mean?” Bruce moved so he could get a better look at Damian’s face.

“She gave you a stick of evidence and challenged you to find everything you could on her. You could make the argument that she roped all of us into playing a game on her terms.”

Bruce’s mouth opened, then closed without a sound. He was right. Damian spoke up again, a little quieter;

“That’s not a trait Quinn possesses. She’s not nearly as subtle. If Quinn wants you to do something, or act in a certain way, she either says it upfront or creates such a huge spectacle that you have no choice but to join in even if only for your own sake. And that’s if she doesn’t kidnap you and make you help her. What Dupain-Cheng did tonight was not something she would have learned from her mother. But it was also too blunt to be something Isely taught her. Isely would have been even more subtle, would have taught Dupain-Cheng to not even mention her involvement directly but still direct our attention towards the issue.”

“You think she takes after Joker,” Bruce stated, looking straight into Damian’s eyes. His son nodded.

“She got you invested in her case with only one discussion. Somehow, without ever having met you before, she knew exactly how to phrase her plea in order to capture your attention best. Just like my similarities to Mother, I believe she has some unintended similarities to Joker. And judging by how she spoke of him, that’s an issue we will likely have to deal with in the future. She is not likely to handle any likeness between the two of them well.”

Bruce continued to stare into Damian’s eyes, clearly looking for something. After a minute, he cracked a small grin.

“Three years ago, you would have warned me that any similarity between the two of them meant that she was a threat,” he pointed out, his voice oddly warm and gaze plainly proud. He rested a hand on Damian’s head, giving his hair the tiniest of ruffles. “But today, you only mentioned very valid concerns about how this development might affect her. I know I don’t say it enough, son, but you have come so far and I am very proud of you.”

Damian’s cheeks grew tellingly pink, but he only put up with the hair ruffle for a second or two before yelling; “okay! Enough!” And pushing his father’s hand away. He stood up so fast that he nearly stumbled on the narrow step, and nodded hastily at Bruce. “I should get to bed now. Goodnight, Father,” said before he began to ascend the staircase. Bruce, amused, let him get a couple of steps up before saying;

“You still haven’t changed out of your uniform, Damian.”

—*—*—*—*—*

The next day was… a day of discovery, to be sure. Just him and Jason observing the Parisian class through their first day of tours at WE revealed a lot about the situation. Madam Mendelieve and Bustier’s reactions to Alya letting even just a little bit of information slip was enough to tell them that the government was keeping a very, very tight lid on the HawkMoth situation.

Then, not long after their early dinner, Constantine visited the cave to talk to them in person about their new case. The exorcist nodded at everything they had to say, but largely seemed impassive. At least, until they finished their bare-bones explanation.

“Who gave you this tip?” Constantine asked, eyes narrowed at where the very pink USB drive was plugged into the computer. They had finished security checks the previous night (Tim did not sleep, despite Barbara’s best efforts) and had already begun sifting through the files on each heroes’ powers.

“I don’t see how that concerns you,” Damian snapped before Bruce could say a word (though his answer wouldn’t have been much different). The blond exorcist turned to the teenaged boy, raising a brow challengingly.

“Oh really? Because this is serious magic, kid. Anyone who not only knows about the Paris situation, but also knows about the kind of magic behind it is someone I wanna be aware of. But don’t worry, let me guess,” he turned his gaze back to the currently unmasked Batman. “Tiny girl, blue-black hair, bright blue eyes, kinda looks like one ‘a your rugrats? Punches like a fuckin’ pistol shot?”

Bruce’s face and posture gave no indication of John being right, but Damian’s did. Constantine saw Damian instantly stiffen up, and he let out the heaviest, most put-upon sigh they had ever heard.

“How do you know Dupain-Cheng?” Damian asked sharply. He never liked Constantine. The older man waved a hand before pulling out his lighter and then a cigarette.

“If she didn’t mention me, then I’m not sayin’ anything. The only thing I can tell you is Good Luck. Now gimme a few minutes and I’ll do my best to undo the spells that’re blocking you from Parisian media and shit,” as he approached the computer, they could hear him grumble; “treatin’ me like their personal VPN…”

Unfortunately, Damian didn’t get to stay and watch Constantine’s torture. Instead, dressed in dark clothing and with a spare mask in a pocket, he had to go tail Marinette’s class. Which, of course, just had to lead to Duella Dent attacking the Gotham Museum of Fine Art while the class was there. So much for good luck.

Though, the dressing-down that Marinette gave Batman later that night was a sight to behold that Damian was not likely to forget anytime soon. Not many people scolded his father while he was in uniform (not many people had the guts). And, though Damian would sooner let himself be skewered again than admit it, he really did appreciate Marinette looking out for Jason. No matter how unnecessary.

Jason’s following speechlessness was by far the highlight of the day, though, in Damian’s opinion.

But yes. Day of discovery. Because that was the day that the whole family had been able to dive in not only to the files Marinette had given them, but the newly unlocked Parisian internet trails they had access to. By the time midnight rolled around, they had all already been through a debrief to go over their collected information and what they had been able to pull up so far from their research in the unlocked internet space.

It… wasn’t a pretty picture. If Jason hadn’t been stunned still by Marinette’s defense of him, he would have probably taken off in a violent rage when they found out that all the Parisian heroes couldn’t have been older than sixteen. Especially when it was clear that they had no mentor, or if they did then that mentor never helped them in the field. And Ladybug and Chat Noir were clearly the exact same heroes who had shown up when HawkMoth first started appearing— meaning that they had to have been twelve, or thirteen at best, when they first got in the field. With clearly no prior team training (their teamwork was ghastly at best in the beginning, and though Ladybug seemed to be combat trained, Chat Noir had clearly started from scratch with maybe only a little training in some form of swordplay).

And the Akumas. The only saving grace was the fact that Ladybug’s powers could not only reverse any damage done during their battles, but also purify the person who was Akumatized and get rid of both their powers and Hawmoth’s control over them. It didn’t seem like any Akumatized victims had memories of what they did while corrupted, though any bystanders who were wounded or killed during an attack were stuck with most of their memories intact even after being healed or resurrected by Ladybug’s abilities.

That was one of the major reasons Paris could stay off the global radar. Eiffel Tower destroyed? Ladybug’s power restores it good as new. Three-fourths of the population killed off by a spontaneous city-wide flood and siren-themed Akuma? Water gone and everyone brought back to life by Ladybug’s Cure.

It was equal parts amazing and bone chilling.

On one hand, no lasting casualties. On the other, the entire city needed therapy. PTSD was quickly climbing to the top of the list of causes for Akumatization. Too many people had flashbacks or panic attacks now, HawkMoth had a veritable smorgasbord of vulnerable citizens to prey on. And the more vivid the emotion, the stronger the Akuma.

Ladybug and her team were starting to lose ground.

Marinette hadn’t been bluffing when she said Paris couldn’t go on much longer. Even with a decently trained team and a wide array of abilities on the heroes’ side, HawkMoth still had the upper hand.

Bruce looked over at where Damian was (in a very, very rare occurrence) huddled with Tim over a phone. They were clearly searching for something, eyes holding a laser focus that suggested that they both had a very strong hunch that they were determined to find proof for.

“Aha!” Tim exclaimed, pointing to something on the phone screen. “This one, right?”

Damian nodded solemnly, looking over whatever they had found. “Yes, that’s it,” Damian sounded slightly excited, but also pleased. Clearly they had found proof of something.

“What is it?” Bruce asked, bringing the whole table’s attention to the very unlikely duo of young detectives. Tim sat up straighter.

“Bring up a picture of Ladybug,” he instructed. Alfred was the closest to the Batcomputer, and did as asked. A picture of Ladybug filled the computer screen.

Her suit was a turtleneck. The neck and the arms from right under the shoulder to right above each elbow were solid black. The shoulders and chest of the suit was a vivid red, with five black spots on the chest and one spot on each shoulder. The arm from elbow to fingertips was all skintight red fabric, which came up over the outside of each elbow in an arrow shape. Once again, each arm had five black spots on the red fabric. The Ladybug pattern continued on Ladybug’s chest straight down, tapering down the insides of her legs. The outside of her legs and on either side of her waist was solid black. Then, again with the red fabric starting in an arrow shape right over her kneecaps and mimicking knee-high boots, red fabric with Ladybug spots went down the rest of her legs. Her shoes were black ankle boots with a single red spot in the center top. A simple, infinity-shaped domino mask (red with black spots, of course) covered her eyes and protected her identity. The yo-yo slung on her waist, Ladybug’s primary weapon, was solid black with five large, red spots. Red ties held back Ladybug’s two low pigtails.

Tim held up his phone screen. On it was a picture of Harley Quinn in her original, head-to-toe skintight outfit. The one that hid her hair and covered every inch of skin that wasn’t her face.

For a second, everyone looked from the picture of Harley, to the picture of Ladybug, and back again. The designs weren’t the exact same, but those little details? The exact same type of ankle boot. The way the black and reds were not only the exact same shade, but broken up in similar blocky ways. The Ladybug spots being similar to the diamonds on Harley’s original outfit. Seeing them side by side, it was far too obvious.

“So. Anyone want to inquire as to why Ladybug’s aesthetic is clearly inspired by Harley Quinn?” Damian asked.

The dinner they had with Marinette and Adrien the following night, and the more information they gathered about the Paris Situation, the more suspicions the Bats formed. Marinette was almost always tardy to class. Marinette skipped class, coincidentally only on days of Akuma attacks somewhere in the city. Marinette was revealed as the temporary hero Multimouse almost too easily. Marinette was seen being “rescued” by Ladybug (it was definitely staged. Marinette’s reactions in that clip didn’t match her reactions to suddenly being carried off in real life). Marinette suddenly becoming extremely close friends with Adrien despite barely even being on speaking terms with him the previous day. It didn’t add up.

Or, more accurately, the picture they added up to wasn’t the one they wanted to see.

Then, it was dawn on the morning of the Parisian class’ fourth day in Gotham.

It was only day four.

Green vines ripped the doors of Wayne manor open, a frenzied Poison Ivy the clear culprit and a paler-than-usual Harley right behind her armed with a bat.

“Marinette’s missing.”

—*—*—*—*—*

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Even by Different Names, the Soul Remains the Same

Me being very late to posting a fic I wrote for @the-alice-of-hearts during trade, through I don't remember which one. Anyway it's been on AO3 but I'm finally getting it here on Tumblr.

It was a bright summer day when the two first met. Jason Todd had traveled to France begrudgingly under Bruce’s order to keep an eye on some strange activity there. He had been wandering around the local park, not quite paying attention to where he was going when ran straight into someone.

“Ow!” He looked down to see a short French girl around his age on the ground.

The black-haired boy held out his hand to her. “Hey, sorry about that,” he apologized in French with an awkward laugh.

“It’s alright,” she said, her voice kind and light. “Though, please do be more careful from now on.”

The girl reached out her petite hand to take his. Just as their fingers brushed against each other, a strange glow appeared around their wrists. As if by instinct, the French girl wrenched her arm away from Jason and stood up quickly.

She stared at him with a peculiar expression across her face.

“I suppose we’re soulmates,” she stuttered and glanced down at the mark that now adorned her wrist. This led Jason to slide up his sleeve and look at his own matching soulmark. It was just what seemed to be a series of swirls and lines, but he knew that they were the only two in the world that would ever have a mark like that.

As a kid on the streets, Jason never bothered to even so much as think about soulmates. He didn’t have the luxury to dream about some unknown person when he had to scrounge around for something to even fill his stomach. When he died and was subsequently resurrected, he refused to even entertain the idea. After all, he thought he may not even have a soul anymore, what with the unpleasant effects of the Lazarus Pits, so how could he possibly have a soulmate then?

Yet, here she was right in front of him. It was a strange feeling; meeting someone you’ve been told all your life would make you happy. What do you even say to them, especially when you met by knocking them onto the ground?

“Uh, yeah, that sounds about right,” the black-haired boy responded dumbly.

They continued to stare at each other and their wrists in silence. Any outside viewer would likely be frustrated by the lack of proper interaction between the two, but they simply did not know what to say. Finally, the girl took a deep breath and sighed, breaking the silent spell over them.

“Hi, my name is Marinette,” she introduced. For a brief moment, it seemed she considered sticking out her hand to shake his but decided against it. “I’m Jason,” he responded after another pregnant pause. He hadn’t felt this awkward since Bruce tried to have “the talk” with him.

After meeting Marinette, Jason’s stay in Paris got a lot less boring. While their first meeting had been a bit strange, the two quickly fell into more comfortable conversation the longer they spent time together. He enjoyed her company so much that he was actually upset that his time to return to Gotham was drawing near.

“Hey, Mari!” Jason called loudly as he walked into her parents’ bakery. The black-haired girl looked over towards the door from where she worked at the counter with a bright smile.

“Hi, Jason,” she said, “I’m almost done with my shift here and then we can head out.”

Suddenly, a petite woman came out from the kitchen door. “We’ve got it from here, dear. Feel free to head out now.”

Marinette gave the woman a hug and quickly pulled off her apron. “Thanks, Mama,” she turned towards Jason, “I’m gonna go wash up and then I’ll be right back.”

The girl ran through the door her mother exited. The older woman then turned her attention to the black-haired boy.

“So, you’re the boy my daughter has been spending so much time with lately,”

Jason stood up a little straighter and coughed. “Yes, ma’am,” he said as respectively as he could muster. After all, it’s not every day you meet your soulmate’s mother.

“My name is Jason Todd,” he introduced. He felt as though the woman could stare into the very pit of whatever may be left of his soul.

After what felt like an eternity, the older woman gave him a soft smile, “All I ask is that you have her home before dark,”

“Absolutely,” he said, breathing in a sigh of relief. She really had him worried for a moment.

“Oh, and Jason was it?” she said quickly before leaning closer to the boy’s ear. “You may be her soulmate, but If you so much as hurt one hair on my baby girl’s head, I will be forced to take extreme measures.”

The black-haired boy pulled away stunned. Mrs. Dupain-Cheng may be small in stature, but he felt like she would find a way to deliver on that threat, even with all his vigilante expertise.

“Alright, all done!” Marinette said as she burst through the door. “Ready to go, Jason?”

Righting himself, he shook his head quickly. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Marinette linked her arm with his before leading him out the front of the shop, wrists slightly aglow. “So, where do you want me to show you today, Mr. American Tourist?” she asked teasingly.

He hummed, putting his finger to his chin in thought. “Well, we haven’t been to the Louvre yet,”

The two headed off in the direction of the museum, making idle small talk. They had been going about their days like this since they met. They would get together and Marinette would introduce Jason to a new part of her hometown. Sometimes it would be a famous monument, but other times she would show Jason a little spot all of her own. Places that held a special meaning just to her.

Those were his favorite days. Days that he felt like he was getting closer to her. Marinette and Jason had yet to fully address the soulmate situation between the two but continued to meet, nonetheless. The older boy hoped desperately that they would have enough time before his departure to figure themselves out.

Jason felt like a different person when he was with Marinette. He didn’t have to be Jason, the back-alley kid taken in by Bruce Wayne, or Red Hood, the rough and tumble vigilante. He didn’t have to be Jason, back from the dead, or even Jason, the comedic relief between his many adopted siblings. With Marinette, he was just Jason, an American tourist who happened to bump into his soulmate while abroad.

“So, I know we haven’t really talked about it but—” The black-haired girl began before being cut off by a loud shriek.

The two turned their heads towards the sound to see a man with pink hair running around making people disappear with a beam from his strange visor.

“Oh no, an akuma!” Marinette cried worriedly.

“Huh?” Jason looked at her confused.

“No time to explain!” She shoved him out of the way as a beam blasting their way. The girl grabbed onto his clothes and ran away from the ensuing fight, pulling him along with her.

After finding a place to hide, Marinette finally let go of his arm. “You stay hidden here, I need to go check on my parents.”

Jason looked at her flabbergasted. “Why would you go back out there? At least let me come to watch you back!”

“No,” she replied firmly. “You don’t know anything about akumas. I’m used to this, especially Pixelator. You should stay here where you’re safe.”

Then, before he could even argue, the girl had gone off in another direction. All of Jason’s instincts told him to get out there and fight, but he knew he couldn’t. This wasn’t Gotham, and he couldn’t let anyone think Red Hood was operating somewhere else or it could spell trouble.

However, he could at least chase after Marinette. While he appreciated the concern, he knew he could handle a supervillain situation. Plus, he was worried about the girl, running worriedly toward her parents in the middle of this so-called “akuma” attack.

Right when he was about to sprint off in the same direction as his former companion, a blur of red swung by, quickly followed by a black blob.

“Oh, Pixelator,” called the latter figure. “I’m ready for my close-up.”

Jason looked at the now clear figure bewilderedly. In front of him stood a boy in tight leather along with cat ears and a tail. Geez, and he thought Dick’s costumes were bad.

The boy struck a pose tauntingly at the villain as another figure came up to stand next to him. This time it was a girl in a red and black spotted suit. She spun what appeared to be a yo-yo with a mildly irritated look on her face.

“Not the time, Chat,” she said frustratedly to her partner.

“But, M’lady,” he whined back before the two descended upon the akuma.

It was then that Jason realized that these were the heroes he was sent to Paris to observe. They seemed young yet fought with the precision of seasoned warriors. Just how long had these two been forced to fight?

The black-haired boy watched the fight with a strange sense of awe. While he also fights villains frequently, it’s not often that he gets to see magic in action. The cat boy leaped from building to building, narrowly avoiding the beams that made objects disappear into seemingly thin air. Meanwhile, the spotted girl tried to draw closer to the akuma, sending out her weapon frequently to try and restrain him.

The battle was mesmerizing. Briefly. Jason wondered if this is what his tussles with the Rogues looked like to the outside view. He got lost in what felt like rehearsed choreography between the three.

He was so lost in the combative dance that he didn’t even notice the beam coming right at him.

“Look out!” The spotted heroine yelled. When he didn’t move fast enough, she dove towards him, slamming his body to the ground. The beam went sailing over them, taking out a nearby dumpster.

The girl scrambled to get back on her feet. As Jason got up as well, he noticed her hand clamped tightly around her other wrist.

“Did you hurt your wrist?” he asked, drawing closer in concern.

“I’m fine!” The heroine backed away as if to keep him from touching her. “But you better get out here J—random tourist!”

With that, the girl sprinted away back towards the fight.

When the fight finally ended, Jason made his way back to Marinette’s. The two spoke a bit and made plans to tour the Louvre another day. However, if the boy was being honest, he didn’t remember a word of what was said. He was too distracted wondering how on earth Ladybug (whose name he got from Marinette) knew he was a tourist. He supposed that as one of the sole heroes of Paris she might know all the citizens’ faces, but that seemed like a stretch in a city as large as the City of Lights.

Jason wouldn’t admit it, but he was extremely excited when Marinette informed him that she would be visiting him in Gotham. After he had left Paris, the two stayed in contact via video call, but it just wasn’t the same. Plus, despite Wayne Manor being filled with rooms, his brothers always seemed to find a way to find and annoy him when he was on the phone with his soulmate.

As soon as his family had found out about his soulmate, his brothers haven’t stopped bothering him about her. Dick keeps trying to give him romance advice, Tim wants to background check her, and Damian, in all his preteen glory, refuses to believe there could be someone out the willing to deal with him. He also suggested that if they do exist that Bruce should throw them in jail immediately because they can’t be good news if they enjoy spending time with the likes of Jason.

So here he was, impatiently waiting in Gotham’s airport for Marinette’s plane to land. It had been a pain keeping his family from trying to pick her up with him, but he managed to convince them that their meeting would be more personal if it was just the two of them. (There were also a few threats throw in, but that’s neither here nor there.)

“Jason!” he heard a familiar voice yell. He got up from his seat and began moving towards the sound, where Marinette was running excitedly towards him, luggage in hand.

“Hey, Mari,” he wrapped his arms around her in a hug. “Glad you could make it,”

As she hugged him back, their soulmarks glowed once again. He swore he would never get used to the warmth that would fill his body during the strange phenomenon.

“Me too,” she replied letting go of the black-haired boy.

The two began to make their way towards the exit when there was a crash. At first, Jason was ready to ignore it but then a deranged laugh filled the air.

“Damn it,” Jason growled. He quickly pulled Marinette into a nearby storage room.

“Listen,” he said, using a serious tone the girl was unfamiliar with from him. “Joker is attacking, and I need you to promise me you will not move from this spot until the Bats deal with the situation.”

Marinette nodded her head. Jason knew her parents had made her research the Rogues Gallery extensively before she was allowed to even think about going to Gotham. She knew the Joker was no joke at all.

The black-haired boy looked down at his phone. He’d gotten several coded texts asking him to step in as Red Hood. He also had orders to only take care of the citizens and not go anywhere near Joker. He almost laughed to himself. Like hell was he going to suit up and not go for that stupid clown.

“I have to make sure someone pulled the Rogues alarm,” he bluffed “don’t move from this spot.”

Marinette gave him an angry look. “Why do you need to go back out there?! I’m sure someone else handled the alarm!”

“Some people would rather run and save their own hides than make sure others will get help.”

“This isn’t Paris, Jason! You could die and never come back.” She cried.

He laughed cruelly. “I’m more than aware of death, Marinette. I’ve lived in Gotham my entire life and I know how cruel this town is. I will be back, so please, just stay here until it’s over.”

Jason gave her what he hoped was a reassuring hug and walked out of the storage closet. He almost wanted to cry at the scared look in the girl’s eyes as he closed the door, but he wanted to make sure Joker wouldn’t get anywhere near where Marinette was hiding. To do that, he needed to be Red Hood.

With practiced stealth, Jason retrieved his suit from the car he had borrowed to pick up Marinette and suited up in the blink of an eye. Once ready, he loaded his guns with rubber bullets and kicked in the airport entrance.

“Hey, you, deranged clown!” He yelled, firing a few rounds at the Rogue’s lackeys. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Well, if it isn’t one of the Bat’s many sidekicks,” the clown cackled.

Red Hood gave an angry grunt. “I’m not the old man’s sidekick, you crazy shit head.”

The Joker gave an unnerving fake pout. “Didn’t Batsy ever teach you some manners?”

He began unloading his gun on the lackeys, trying (but not really) not to hit any vital organs. Suddenly, he heard a girl’s scream.

Red Hood froze in the middle of his barrage. That was definitely Marinette’s voice. Without warning, he went running off in her direction, not even thinking about the Rogue behind him.

When he got to the storage closet, the door was kicked in surrounded by Joker’s henchmen. He should have known that the deranged man would send men to look for hostages to take, but in his rush, he had forgotten about the Joker’s favorite trick.

“Back off,” he said angrily. He fired his gun at the nearest henchmen, using his careful aim to ensure he wouldn’t hurt Marinette.

He continued to fire off round until all the men were on the ground. Red Hood approached the door carefully, afraid he might spook the girl even more.

“Hey, they’re gone for now,” he said gently as he approached the girl tucked in the corner. “You should get out of here before any more come by.”

He held his hand out for her to stand when a thought crossed his mind. If their touch resulted at all in skin-on-skin contact, then their marks would probably start glowing, subsequently blowing his cover.

Red Hood quickly pulled his hand back before she could take it. Marinette gave him a strange look but said nothing on the matter.

“Thank you,” she said, voice shaking a bit. “This could be odd, but have you seen a man named Jason Todd? He was here with me before he ran off to call in help. He never came back and I’m getting really worried—” the girl continued to ramble before he cut her off.

“I know who you’re talking about. Don’t worry about him, I sent him outside with the rest of the citizens and he told me to look out for you. That’s how I knew you were here,” he lied easily.

The girl breathed a quick sigh of relief before shuffling out of the closet and running quickly to the nearest exit.

That girl was going to be the death of him. Red Hood shook his head before heading off towards where he had left the Joker. The damned clown was going to get it for messing with his time with Marinette.

Red Hood sighed. It wasn’t often he got dragged to a Justice League meeting. As one of the more reckless vigilantes of Gotham, he was often left out of official business. However, all members were informed that there would be a special event tonight, so his siblings all pushed him into attending.

“Thank you, friends, for coming tonight.” Wonder Woman addressed the group. “I apologize for the late notice, but a matter of great importance has been brought to us.”

The Amazonian stood tall in front of them, as though threatening anyone who would dare not listen to her. “May I introduce to you, the current Guardian, Ladybug.”

As the familiar spotted heroine walked into the room, Red Hood’s mouth was slightly agape under his helmet. After he was sent to observe the Parisian heroes a year ago, he had been told that the Justice League would not yet be intervening in the matter as they were not equipped to deal with such magics.

It seems the situation had changed because before him stood the hero of Paris herself, the Miraculous Ladybug.

“Hello, everyone,” she said. “I am Ladybug, and I, along with my partner Chat Noir, have been defending Paris from the villain Hawkmoth for several years now. It has gotten to the point where we no longer feel able to handle the situation ourselves, and we greatly appreciate the help and training the Justice League will provide.”

Murmurs filled the room. Most of the younger members had no idea there was even a supervillain in Paris.

Wonder Woman said a few more words on the matter before everyone began to move around the room to socialize. After a moment of debating, Red Hood made the choice to approach Ladybug.

“Hello,” he said with an awkward chuckle. “I’m Red Hood, vigilante from Gotham,”

“Ladybug,” the heroine replied, “hero from Paris.”

As the two reached forward to shake hands, someone pushed Red Hood forward. In an effort to right himself, he hit his exposed wrist into his companion’s face.

“Oh shit, I’m so—” he began before getting cut off by a glow from his wrist. His eyes widened in shock and he quickly flitted his gave to Ladybug’s also glowing wrist, though it seemed dimmer through the fabric of her suit.

“Mari—” he was cut off again by Ladybug’s hand over his mouth.

“Don’t you dare say it,” she threatened.

He lifted her hand away from his face.

“All I’m gonna say is that this strangely makes a lot of sense.”

Music boxes and parties

@daminettedecember @maribat-calendar-events

Dick stared as the dread and horror filled his stomach. He can not believe this happened. This was terrible and it was going to cause so much pain and sadness.

It was his daughter's birthday. Kori insisted that their daughter get to understand and celebrate both sides of her heritage. So they had a themed birthday party for her. And Mar'i had chosen a theme early on. Princess party. So he managed to coerce his siblings and friends and Bruce even to dress finely. Though with the mention of upsetting his little girl they were quickly and easily swayed to do so. Jason only grumbled good naturedly and had turned up in a suit. The present of the day though was a jewellery box that Mar'i would get to use and it played Tamaranean music as well as Earth songs and it had taken time and effort to get.

Even the Losers

Chapter 27

Chapter 1     Chapter 26

Marinette took a deep breath before knocking on the front door.  Even after the breath to calm her racing heart she still faltered.  Just looking at the building was giving her flashbacks. Her heart ramped up again and she started breathing heavily.  Her hands felt jittery, like they needed to move, like her blood was racing unabated and needed an outlet.  She could feel a prickling throughout her body.

Everything just felt off.  And she couldn’t tell if it was because the last time she’d been here hadn’t resulted in the best outcome in any interpretation, or if something bad was coming.  But, she couldn’t imagine what that would be.  She would think it was a confrontation with M. Wayne, but Damian had promised it would be just them and M. Wayne had made clear he had no interest in seeking her out so… the only other option she could think of was Alfred; some kind of confrontation with him.  He also had shown no interest in her, but he at least was supposed to be there.

She took another shuddering breath in a futile attempt to calm herself again.  Tikki poked her head out of Marinette’s bag with a sympathetic smile.  “You’ll be okay, Marinette,” she chirped hopefully. “It will be just you and Damian. You don’t have to worry about anyone else right now.  You can do this.”

Marinette looked down at her for a few seconds. Her eyes flicked to her phone that had died earlier that day and cursed her brilliant decision not to ask Adrien to buy her a new charging cord while he was buying her sparring clothes after she realized she and Max had rushed to Metropolis without grabbing either. Really, how long did she expect it to last when she knew, she knew she was looking at a full day on the phone dealing with real estate agents and banks.  

All of which meant she couldn’t call Adrien and let him talk her through this, because right now, that would be the most effective way to calm herself down.  She whimpered lightly, but after a second, she shook her hands hard to get out some anxiety.  She looked back at Tikki with a determined nod.  She let out another breath.  “I can do this.  It’s just Damian.  And maybe the anxiety will help, right?  We’re supposed to spar.  That will help me get it out.”

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How We Fell: Ch. 10

Day 10: Frozen/Luck

AO3

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Marinette crutches into class, suppressing a sad sigh. Today was the last day that Gotham Academy would be in Paris. They had an early flight the next morning, and then the program would officially be over. She really hoped that Damian (and Jon) would stay in contact. Damian had become like a rock for her, something steady and constant. She was terrified of losing that.

“You okay girl?” Alya asks quietly. That had been another small change. Her reporter friend had started spending less time with Lila. She wasn’t spending her extra time with Marinette, but she was actually noticing her again. Something that had stopped around October. It was nice, but a part of Marinette was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. For her friend to forget her, once again.

“Yeah. Just…just gonna miss Damian.” She says softly, then, she adds “and Jon”. Marinette frowns as she thinks of Jon and Adrien’s relationship. Sure he could get to Paris easily, since he was Superboy, but how could he explain it to Adrien? Or would he just not see him much? What would the excuse be if he did fly to Paris on a whim? Superheroes had complicated dating lives.

“Are you two…” Alya trails off, quirking an eyebrow instead of verbalizing her question. Marinette blushes, thinking of the giant hug Damian had given her. Of how gorgeous his eyes were, how soft and kind he always was with her, despite his prickly demeanor towards everyone else.

“No.” She answers truthfully, the I wish remaining unsaid, but definitely understood. Alya grins and Marinette can’t help but feel relieved that the girl hadn’t applied to Gotham University or Metropolis University. Sure they were friends, but the last thing Marinette needed was Alya trying to set her up with Damian. Especially when she wasn’t sure if his feelings for her were anything more than platonic. Before Alya can push the topic, the boy in question walks in. Marinette gapes slightly at his appearance. His usually gelled hair didn’t appear to have any product in it. Instead, it was tousled in a way that looked effortless, but she was sure he’d spent some time on it. He makes eye contact with her almost immediately, his face lightening just a bit. Marinette grins. So maybe she wasn’t dating Damian. Didn’t mean she wasn’t devastated that he was leaving. She was determined to make his last day in Paris a memorable one.

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Micro event

Ladrien, Ladynoir, Adrianette

Part 4

“May I come in?” Ladybug asked.

“Of course.” Adrien scolded himself internally for tactlessness. “Sorry, I was just... please, let me help you.” He said without thinking, and gave her his hand.

Ladybug looked at his hand with surprise, and Adrien already thought how stupid he must have looked to offer his hand to a superhero, when he noticed a slight blush on her cheeks.

“Thank you.” The hero said, accepting his hand, and getting into his room.

Adrien felt like he was naked again. This feeling happened to him every time when he met Ladybug as his civilian self. Like he was simple and unprotected in front of her.

Just a silly boy, crushing on a superhero.

Because as Adrien he didn’t have a status of her partner, nor a magical suit to protect his identity, his body, and — most important — his ability to be himself.

And as Adrien he was shy and nervous next to the love of his life... who didn’t love him back, and from whom he had to move on.

And who was standing in his room in the night instead.

And what did she say about her nightmare?

How We Fell: Ch. 9

Day 9: Letters/Tears

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Marinette decided, very quickly, that she hated her luck. You would think, as the wielder of the Ladybug Miraculous, that she would have good luck. Or, at least, semi decent luck. Instead of whatever luck led her to being forced to be on crutches for the next six weeks. She’d be (mostly) okay as Ladybug, but the crutches were required for her to walk pretty much anywhere as a civilian.

“What happened?” Damian asks, eyes wide as he swiftly moves to her side. He’d texted her last night and asked her to walk to school with him again. She’d agreed, obviously, but had forgotten to mention the whole broken leg thing.

“Oh, uh, I kind of fell down the stairs.” She gives her cover story, smiling awkwardly as she rubs the back of her neck. Damian quirks an eyebrow up.

“You?” He asks. She nods rapidly.

“Yeah, I told you I’m clumsy.” She says with a light laugh. He frowns.

“I have never seen you do anything as clumsy as this.” Damian says, his face tense. Marinette sighs.

“It was just a freak accident, Damian. But I’m okay now. I promise.” Marinette says, her smile genuine for the first time that morning. He huffs, his face hard as he glares at the bright pink cast on her leg. She shifts her weight and tugs a sharpie out of her bag, holding it up like it’s a prize.

“What?”

“Would you like to sign my cast? You’d be the first one.” She offers, holding the sharpie out towards him. He hesitates, but takes it. She grins, hopping up on one of the stools in the bakery so that he could sign it easier. They may be a couple minutes late for school because of this (she’d definitely blame her crutches), but it was worth it. She grins, watching him sign his name, and then draw a small picture next to it. She leans forward, trying to see the drawing, then grinning widely. “A hamster?” She asks, her heart fluttering.

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Behind enemy lines

Maribat: Robibug, Daminette, Robinette, Damibug

Part 3

Ladybug looked around, trying to figure the Lucky Charm out, but the sword in her hand didn’t seem applicable to the knights, who were standing around waiting for their leader’s command. There was no way she could fight all of them at the same time alone. So the decision to engage the fight with them wouldn’t be correct.

But her Lucky Charm has never let her down, so the right decision was somewhere, somewhere...

“May I borrow this?” Ladybug jumped in surprise and turned around sharply to found Robin standing right behind her.

How did he get there? She was surrounded and there wasn’t free way out, so how the hell did he find his way in?!

It wasn’t a moment to complain though. Marinette already knew she couldn’t handle this fight alone and her Lucky Charm just gave her a weapon that she wasn’t good at using.

If only Chat Noir was here...

Letters revealing a scary truth

@daminettedecember @maribat-calendar-events

Bruce had not been expecting much when Damian complained about their school partaking in a penpal with a school in France. He noted the complaints of compulsory and how it was an exercise to practice French when he clearly knew more than his teacher. He noted the complaints on how it was not allowing emails and due to being mandatory they would also be graded on. And the list of complaints continued while Dick tried to convince Damian it wasn't that bad, while he focused on at least convincing Damian it would be a good experience to see how he should interact with people his age. The complaints did lighten until the first class where he had to write one occurred. Still Bruce reminded him of the benefits of obtaining a cover and left it alone.

Damian complained that his penpal was problematic. Crazy and her sentences made little sense. He was clearly paired with a complete beginner in English and it was terrible. Bruce raised an eyebrow and looked over the letter. The basics were there, the introduction and Bruce could see that while each sentence jumped around, it seemed to be fairly straightforward for someone learning English as a second language. But Damian had a very high standard, the basics of "hello Penpal! My name is Marinette and here's a few things about me. I like pink. I like fashion and aim to be a fashion designer one day. I enjoy gaming and spending time with my friends outside of school. My parents work in a bakery.

Hold on, you have pets? To hear that is so cool, I always wanted one. A hamster in particular though due to the bakery my dad says no. He worries about health and safety. At an alarming rate. Light of day I hope to change this at one point and fix things.

Hope to hear from you soon and that you like my letter.

Marinette."

How We Fell: Ch. 7

Day 7: War/Meeting

AO3

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Marinette had grown up knowing that her world was special. She knew that there were heroes, and villains, and aliens and gods. But growing up, as a child who loved to design, she didn’t really care about keeping up with the news related to heroes. Sure, she knew that Wonder Woman had been spotted in Paris several times when Marinette was little, but she hadn’t really cared. Not much, anyway. And now, here she was. Standing near the top of the Eiffel tower with Chat Noir and Carapace by her side, she felt nervous. Extremely nervous. Not only were they about to meet with members of the actual Justice League, but they were also running out of time. Or, Marinette and Nino were. She wasn’t quite sure how old Chat Noir was or what his plans were, but she knew that both she and Nino had applied to universities not in France. Neither of them could really do that if Hawkmoth was still around. Well, Marinette couldn’t. She’d let her friend retire whenever he was ready. Marinette would not force someone to be a hero if they didn’t want to be. She knew how awful that could be. Shifting her weight, she lets out a huff.

“Are you cold, M’lady?” Chat asks, frowning. Marinette shoots him a tight smile.

“Not really. Just wish I wouldn’t have suggested getting here so early.” She admits, crossing her arms over her chest. She’d thought it would be a good idea to get there twenty minutes early, to set up a strong presence and look professional. What she hadn’t counted on, was how cold it would be. And how boring.

“Any idea why they decided to look into the situation now, dudes?” Carapace asks. He’d been oddly silent since arriving. Marinette assumed it had something to do with the fact that Alya would be missing the chance to meet several members of the Justice League. Marinette had felt a little guilty about that, but Rena Rouge had also been retired. Several years ago, with the rest of the temporary heroes. Besides, this wasn’t a social visit. It was a meeting to debrief the League on what was happening in Paris, and maybe ask if Batman could help with some of the detective work. Marinette had stopped accusing Gabriel Agreste when she was talking to Chat Noir, but she was still certain that he was Hawkmoth. He just fit the profile.

“Have you heard about the exchange program with Gotham?” Ladybug asks. Both boys nod. “My guess is, it has something to do with that. Everyone knows that Batman knows everything that happens in Gotham, so chances are one of the Parisian students mentioned the situation. Somehow, it got back to Batman and now they care.”

“Well, you’re mostly right.” A new voice says. Marinette immediately tenses, moving swiftly into a fighting pose. Her eyes narrow at the figure stepping out of the dark.

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Maribat idea: Mon Petite Family

Kids have been missing all around Gotham, quickly gaining Bruce’s attention.

However, most of these children seem to be of abused, neglected, orphaned, etc backgrounds.

Bruce and Dick can’t seem to figure out how exactly the children are being kidnapped. Jason proposed to become bait. Or rather, went out to investigate on his own after getting into an argument with Bruce.

One minute he remembered kicking about a can when he heard a sweet voice. A voice that hummed the sweetest song. A voice that caused his mind to go blank within minutes. Jason later woke up to the arms of a raven-haired woman with blue eyes.

“Welcome home little one.” She told him when he woke up, guiding him out of his bedroom and towards the lower level, Jason then realizing that he wasn’t the only kid there.

The minute they stepped out of the room, the woman was ambushed by children of all ages, Jason realizing they’re all the kids that have been missing for the past month.

“Morning Bugaboo.” A man then appeared, pecking a kiss on the woman’s cheek while carrying an infant. “Morning Chaton. Morning Bridgette.” The woman greeted back.

The children also greeted him, calling him Papa while they called the woman Maman, each of them wanted to gain the couple’s attention.

“Who are you guys?” Jason growled out, wondering who these two managed to kidnapped all of these children.

“Us?” The man looked at the woman, Jason watching as they exchanged a thought. “We’re Maman Marinette and Papa Adrien. Welcome to our home, my little one.”

Part 2? Who knows 👀

Healing hurt hearts

Day 8. Oh my god.

@daminettedecember @maribat-calendar-events

Luka frowned as he waited for Juleka outside the school. Once again he could see that Marinette was not… in the best of moods. Her step was down, her smile missing and she was not associating with the rest of her peers and friends who seemed to not even notice her sadness. When Juleka approached him he asked,

"What's up with Marinette?"

"Hm? Oh well, you know, it's just…" Juleka mumbled. Like ruffled her hair and made a mental note to talk to Marinette at some point soon to understand where this ongoing sadness was coming from.

Proof that Damian Wayne has a Heart Part 3

ao3

Robin groaned as he limped into the Batcave, silently cursing the Riddler and his goons once again. Sometimes Damian wished he could pull a Jason, and just shoot a gun at all his problems. But alas, he couldn’t, all thanks to his father’s morals.

Moments like these made him think about his time with his mother when he was forced encouraged to kill. And about how when he first arrived at his father’s, how difficult it was for him to follow Bruce’s rules. It was unnatural for him at the time. Talia was a complicated woman at best. No matter what Damian did, he would be a disappointment. The only expectation to that had only ever been killing. The unadulterated pride on her face when he would take a life was colossal. So as any child would’ve done in his position, Damian always tried his hardest to make his mother proud and to feel any love she felt for him, even if it was only for a few moments.

How We Fell: Ch. 6

Day 6: Butterflies and Tea

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WARNING, mentions of child abuse (and some wounds from that including burns and bruises). There’s nothing super graphic, just warning you ahead of time that it is mentioned in the chapter.

For those of you in the US, the National Child Abuse Hotline is 1-800-422-4453 This number is available for texts or calls.

In hindsight, Marinette should have expected it. After all, people weren’t immune to negative emotions. And she would never wish that kind of mental strain on someone. So it shouldn’t have been a surprise that on the third day of Gotham Academy being students at Lycée Carnot, there was a school based akuma. Still didn’t make it any less frustrating though. Especially since Damian wouldn’t let her out of his sight.

“Damian-” She tries for what feels like the millionth time. They’d been hiding out in an empty classroom since the whole fiasco started. Marinette’s entire body buzzed with the extra adrenaline begging to be used, to do something. Something other than sit around and wait. This was an akuma that appeared to have some kind of strategy. Or, that’s what it looked like from here at least. It was always hard to tell from afar, unless they were a minion maker. Luckily, this one didn’t seem to be a minion maker, but that didn’t mean she could risk getting in their way. Especially since she wasn’t transformed.

“Marinette, you are not armed. The villain has a weapon, running where they can see you is not wise.” He chastises, frowning at her. Marinette suppresses the urge to groan or roll her eyes. She knows that Damian was just looking out for her, trying to be a good friend. But she really wished that he hadn’t picked this particular moment. Suddenly, a huge piece of rubble comes flying at them. Marinette’s eyes widen and she pushes Damian roughly, jumping back herself so that neither would be crushed even though they were now separated.

“You’re welcome.” Tikki mutters. Marinette quirks an eyebrow. It seemed more like destruction than creation, which meant that Tikki had just relied on their good luck to accomplish the separation. Lovely. Marinette was sure that there would be no repercussions for that later on.

Keep reading

Bruce Wayne having to play Fuck, Marry, Kill on a talkshow, except all the options are JL members.

Talkshow host: okay! Your options are the big three! If you didn’t know, That’s Wonder Woman, Superman, and Batman!

Bruce: (with no hesitation) Kill Batman. He’s useless, has no superpowers whatsoever and was once 15 minutes late to save me from a kidnapping.

Talkshow host: As a famous philanthropist and pacifist what are you thoughts on the Red Hood?

Bruce: I love him so so so much. I don’t approve of his methods. I’m glad he’s here in Gotham and I believe in him and cherish him. I worry that the lives he takes will weigh on him and that he’ll lose himself in the violence.

TH: Wow that’s quite personal, it sounds like you know him?

Bruce: He’s Batman’s son and we both know he doesn’t deserve him

TH: Batman’s son????

Bruce: yup

Bruce *leaning closer to the microphone*: his son

Bruce *looking directly at the camera*: who he loves but doesn’t deserve

TH: o-okay then um moving on… uh about the rumors about your and Batman’s relationship-

Bruce: He’s only using me for my body.

Reporter: Oh my god- is that the Red Hood?

Reporter: Red hood sir? Can I ask you a question?

Red Hood: uh yeah?

Reporter: How do you feel about Bruce Wayne’s recent comments on the Late-night Gotham Talk Show?

Red Hood: I hope that Wayne gets custody of me during the inevitable break up. (Grapples off)

~

Reporter: Tim Drake-Wayne! How do you feel about the possibility of the Red Hood becoming your new sibling?

Tim: (eyebrow twitching) delighted, god only knows I need more murderous siblings.

Reporter: Elaborate on the ‘more’ part?

Tim: No comment.

Reporter: Is it true you have violent tendencies? We have a comment from your brother Tim about it.

Dick:

Damian, standing next to him: [slurps smoothie loudly]

Headlines the day after that: “Dick Grayson allegedly violent” “‘We’ve been trying to get him to therapy,’ says Damian Wayne” “Wayne brothers seen arguing in public. Are the rumors true?”