#he’s not here but I swear it’s daminette

[mochinek0]

Daminette December 2022: 10-Ambush (PART 1)

Marinette was having a difficult time getting her art project done. You would think it would be easy. Her problem? She was on her tippy-toes trying to get the book she desperately needed from the library. She was just about to jump and try to grab it, when she felt herself be boxed in. Someone else had grabbed the book. Marinette turned to thank the person and found herself in Damian Wayne's chest.

"Th-Thank you?" she spoke, reaching for the book.

Damian kept the book, just out of her reach.

"Art class assignment?" he questioned.

"Yes." Mari smiled.

"You swear you saw Damian Wayne come in here?"

"I swear!"

"Why would Damian come in here? Only nerds go in here!"

"Damian has the highest grades!"

"Damian Wayne isn't a nerd!"

"Once we start dating, you'll see!"

Damian sighed. Marinette quickly pulled him close by his tie and threw her arms around his neck. Damian dropped the book, as he grabbed the bookcase and his other arm around her waist, stopping her from falling under his weight.

'Was I wrong about her?'

"You-" he hissed.

"Shhhh!" she hushed back.

Damian heard the girls shriek behind them. He was sure they appeared to be in a compromising position.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Who the hell is that bitch?"

"I thought he was single!"

"Hey, all of you need to leave, now!"

"But-"

"Now! No shouting and no innapropriate language! If you don't leave, you'll be headed to the Principal's Office instead!"

Damian leaned away the moment he heard their footsteps walking further away. He looked down to see Marinette blushing and looking at the floor.

'So she couldn't handle her own actions?'

Damian smirked, "I wasn't expecting to get ambushed by a classmate."

Marinette quickly looked up. He was able to see her cheeks had turned bright red and so had the tips of her ears.

"So-sorry!" she squeaked, "I just wanted to help. They didn't see me so they'll just assume you are dating someone and back off."

'Not taking advantage of the situation? If I remember correctly, she's had trouble with other girls for not acting like them. She doesn't like crowds or lies. She is honest, herself.'

Damian boxed her back in and tilted her chin up so he could get a better look at her.

"Except, I'm not a liar." he whispered, "How about we work on the assignment together?"

"O-Otay!-Kay!Kay" Marinette stammered, "I meant okay!"

"What are you looking for in your report?" Damian questioned.

"Um, I mostly work in fashion design. So lots of cloth, fabrics, textures, dyes, history." Marinette explained.

"For example, how they use to paint with eggshell powder and berries?" he asked.

"Yes!" she exclaimed, "What kind did they use to dye clothes? How did they know how much to use? Art helps move culture around so much and no one realizes it."

Damian smirked, "My mother use to give me paint palettes. After some time, I believe she made them herself, but I never asked. It didn't matter at the time, but now that she's gone, I wish I had asked her where she got them. Paint in tubes don't come close to what I'm use to."

Marinette smiled, "Do you still paint?"

The Wayne heir nodded.

"May I ask what kind?" she questioned.

"Realistic, mostly." Damian spoke, "I painted Mother recently, but something is not quite right. I have put it to the side for now."

"Is it an older memory?" Marinette asked, "If it is, maybe try to paint something you remember more. Something more recent you remember of her. It might help you figure out what your other painting is missing."

Damian thought of Talia and the last time he saw her. There was fire, blood, smoke. She looked invincible. He could practically smell the metal and taste the ash in his mouth. He quickly put that thought away for later.

TAG LIST: @maribat-calendar-events @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @meme991001 @vixen-uchiha @abrx2002 @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @animegirlweeb @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus

#daminette december 2022 #daminette december #marinette dupain cheng #marinette in gotham #damian wayne #damian x marinette #marinette x damian #daminette #homework help #assistance #talia al ghul #painting #fashion #ambushed #mochinek0

[batsandbugs]

Bruce Wayne’s Headache Classification System Chapter 3

IKEA Verse

A/N: The author shows up a month and a half late, with Starbucks: S'up, here's 7500 words of pure chaos. Feast! Y'all are the best, thank you for the amazing comments in the last chapter. I love seeing your excitement for this crazy little world I've created. I have a new fic that I'll be adding eventually, called: "The Stalking of Daminette: A Treatise by Steph and Cass" it's still in its baby stage, so we'll see how long that grows before I post. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it because I have not started on the next part and I'm moving in less than a month, so maybe the next chapter will be out sometime in October, but I'm not making any promises. Enjoy!

Chapter 3

Bruce narrows his eyes and pins his children with an unimpressed stare. “What did you do?

“He was totally willing!” Dick insists with an innocent grin.

“Coercion.”

“Manhandling.”

Dick’s grin disappears evilly side-eyeing his brothers. “Both of you suck at being back up.”

“He didn’t want to at first,” confesses Tim. “But they held my computer hostage to convince me to agree.” Tim rubs a hand over the top of his laptop in a soothing manner. “So, I stole all his knives so he couldn’t stab us, while Jason and Dick wrangled him into the car.”

“Little demon was spittin’ nails, but we persuaded him not to throw himself out the car, so he was trapped.”

“By the time we arrived, I convinced them how a game of hide-and-seek would be a fun, non-disastrous way to spend time together,” says Dick, his face one of ruined hopes and dreams.  

“Mostly through bribes, blackmail, and calls to our innate competitiveness,” says Tim.

“Dickie kept the keys so none of us could leave, and declared himself seeker first,” Jason continues. “He found me-" 

"In the food court," says Dick.

"Then Replacement-"

"At the Starbucks."

"Didn't even get to have that coffee," grumbles Tim.

"So we joined forces and decided to search for Damian together. We spent an hour chasing him in circles. Swear I almost caught him too.”

Tim scoffs, “Yeah no, he had us good. We had no clue where he was.” 

Jason rolls his eyes. “Oh, shut up Tim.”

“You shut up,” Tim shoots back.

“Boys…” warns Bruce, already regretting bringing all three of them into this sitrep.

“Okay, so he evades us long enough to team up with a girl named Marinette Dupain-Cheng-” starts Tim.

Jason growls a bit. “Lying bitch.”

“Jason…” Dick sighs but doesn’t refute the insult. This only serves to deepen Bruce’s headache which now strongly veers out of the I-am-not-mentally-or-emotionally-prepared-for-this category and straight into Ongoing-dumpster-fire territory.

This was fine.

Jason slams a fist on the table. “She lied to my face multiple times! She said she was hired to poison Tim and Damian in order to steal Tim’s phone and if I didn’t find them in time, they were gonna die from brain damage!”

Bruce blinks. Did he hear that right? “Sorry, what?”

Tim sighs. “Okay, rewind, so Damian evading us like the little assassin he trained to be, hooks up with Marinette, who, as far as my research shows, is a civilian-”

“Yeah right, girlie ain’t a civilian. No way, not in a million years.”

“Shut up Jason, let Tim talk,” snaps Dick.

“She lied to Jason about where Damian was, and between her initial meeting with Jason and the incident in the food court, about an hour passed. Then she appeared in the cafeteria with Damian’s card, how we tracked her there in the first place. She panicked when she saw us and used her magic on the shelves in the warehouse to cause a diversion-”

“She crushed a fucking forklift, and we got blamed and billed for it.”

‘How?’ Bruce thinks in despair. Not over the money, of course. They had more than enough to cover costs, just in the general sense of incredulity. One would think, after being Batman this long, it would inoculate Bruce from bewilderment at all types of situations.

It has not.

Tim shakes his head. “No, I proved we had nothing to do with that."

‘Oh well isn’t that grand?’

"Didn’t manage to pin anything on her either considering how much electrical interference occurred whenever she performed magic, but we don’t have to pay.”

“Magic doesn’t cause electrical interference,” Bruce reminds them. “Not unless it completely breaks the system in the process.” All three boys – men really, his kids all grown up now, even if they pulled stupid shit like this – turn to him. Identical expressions of contemplation played over their faces.

“Shit, you’re right,” mutters Dick.

“Well, her magic does,” counters Tim, his brow creasing heavily, grasping past the sleepy, foggy haze that comes with being awake for three days straight. Grabbing a notepad he jots down the observation. “Her magic doesn’t obey any rules we know to be true.”

“It’s magic, dumbass,” Jason sneers. “It doesn’t have to make sense. I’m still on the fence about whether she enchanted Damian though. On one hand, demon-spawn shouldn’t be capable of smiling that much, and he defended her, deferred to her, fucking used her first name without blinking an eye. That ain’t natural for him. On the other hand, she’s the same brand of demented as he is, and maybe they want to be horrible little demons together.”

“I…” starts Dick before trailing off, his face flickers through a series of emotions. Mostly fragile hope, pragmatic disbelief, and good heaping of uncertainty.

“See, Golden Boy, even you can’t say this is a good thing!”

“He made a friend?” Dick offers with a pained wince.

“She’s a psychopath!”

Bruce cuts off the argument. As much as he would love to hear more in-depth detail about Damian’s newest… acquaintance, he wants a clearer picture of what happened at the store before he judges the situation. “Boys, behave. Tim, please continue.”

Tim nods. “Okay, so Marinette escapes the warehouse, and we track her back to their entry point into the vent system. We split up to cover more ground, I take the warehouse and keep myself from the worker’s sight but close enough to the vent I could spot them exiting. About forty-five minutes later they set me on fire-”

“Wait,” interrupts Bruce. “Fire? FIRE?”

Tim looks at him like he’s being particularly slow. “Uh, yeah, I said that a time or two now, keep up. To be fair, the fire was more around me. But I did end up singed.” He shows his arm sleeve again, and the singeing on the sleeve takes on a whole new meaning.

“I wasn’t sure what happened at the time, I expected to catch the little twerps, not engage in guerilla warfare. So, understandably, I’m off my game. The security guard dragged me into the office, and I’m ready to call for backup, only to find my phone missing. I talk down the manager in the warehouse, but then he yells at these poor workers. And Bruce, they were kids, couldn’t be more than fifteen, working in this busy warehouse with no clue about any rights they had, and then after the manager became… distracted I conversed with the other workers, and-”

Tim’s one-breath ramble was swiftly cut off by Jason. “Yeah, yeah you caused a worker’s strike through the power of charisma and rhetoric. So original. No one else in the world’s history has ever done that. Can we get back to the French bitch tricking me?”

Tim huffs, crossing his arms. “You can continue then because I wasn’t part of that.”

“Cool, I will. So, there I wait at my post, and it’s been like an hour and a half at this point. Timmy finally calls, but it’s not actually him it’s the French girl. She’s actin’ like a paid assassin slash company spy, and says she poisoned Tim and Damian through tricking them into eatin’ poisoned coffee and shit.”

“And you believed that?” Bruce asks. Jason glares at him with piercing green-blue eyes, and although his second son puts off an air of anger and annoyance, it’s a mask for a deep-seated fear that his brothers were genuinely in danger. That he would be too slow, too late to save them, like what happened to-

Jason flippantly shrugs his shoulders, years of practiced reticence covering his care. “With our craptastic luck, I sure as hell wasn’t going to take any chances. So, I go chasin’ and-”

“~It’s a trap~,” Tim gloats in a sing-songy voice, his grin wide and eyes unfocused. He’s going to crash soon, it’s just a matter of time.

“Shut up, you ended up set on fire and pickpocketed. You have no leg to stand on.” Tim rolls his eyes but slouches back in his chair. “So, it’s a trap, and demon-spawn is waitin’ there with one of those tricked-out trip wires Timmy made. He and Frenchie wrapped me up good, taunted me, and stripped me taking my wallet and phone. Bitch also took my knife. I insult the brat, and he fires back, but before he does anything else Marinette pulls him back and tells him to simmer down and he does.” Jason’s wide eyes drip with incredulity and, quite frankly, a little awe.

“I see,” Bruce says, a fake calm surrounding his words. He really didn’t. They were talking about Damian. Bruce loves his only biological son, he truly does. He loves Damian’s sketches, and care for animals, he loves his dedication to sword mastery and sly humor. The way his son has the same wrinkle crease between his eyes Bruce gets, and that Thomas did before them. The similarity soothes a small part of Bruce’s aching soul. He’s ridiculously proud of all the work and effort Damian went through, put himself through, to become a better person. To overcome the trauma his upbringing caused and come out stronger.

That being said, Damian was still arrogant, stubborn, and quick-tempered. He considered his opinions and plans more highly than others, and unless one could give a quick and compelling explanation as to an alternative option, he would be proceeding with his plan with efficiency; damn anything else standing in his way. Damian spared no sympathy to the average person and even less for fools.

This behavior was extremely out of character for him.

Which made the entire situation ring with alarm.

Jason shook his head. “I don’t think you do,” he says, calling Bruce’s lie out. “You’re gonna need to see it to really understand. Anyway, they leave me there for the police to find me, and the wire’s wound on tight, so I’m still struggling to get them off when security finds me ten minutes later.” Jason smirks. “Now those idiots had no clue who they were dealing with, and they loosened the wire round my legs, cause they sure as hell couldn’t carry me. By the time we reached the car I was out of the bonds and knocked one out and escaped from the other. Fat-ass bastard.”

“Language,” Bruce reminds him. Jason flips him off.

“Fine, the heavy-set bastard. Better?”

Bruce sighs. “Not really.”

“I scale the building, figuring the store entrances would be monitored. They had a nice handy dandy human-sized ventilation shaft up there - no wonder with the place’s fucking size - so, I shimmy down-”

“Like Santa,” Tim giggles, well past bordering on a manic state, and instead moved well into the capital of it.

The comment doesn’t appear to have fazed Jason though, who takes another long sip of his alcohol-soda mixture. “And like Santa, I have a knack for toys. I emerge out of a vent in the children’s toy area and snag myself a nerf gun.”

Sharp pain blooms on the side of Bruce’s neck. He doesn’t let it show on his face though. “Why?”

“Seemed like a good at the time, ya know?”

Bruce mentally counts to ten, takes a deep breath, and says, “Sure.”

“So, I head towards the play area to find Dick, because obviously, Replacement was a lost cause.”

“Geeze thanks, Jason.”

“But before I can get there, I spot Demon Spawn constructin’ a wacky ass Rube Goldberg contraption-”

Dick winces. “I saw the remains when I chased after Marinette. It was initially meant for me.”

“You were chasing the girl?”

Dick pouts. “She stole my phone!”

“Wait, so a civilian pickpocketed all of you?” 

“She was quick,” mutters Tim.

Jason raises a finger. “She didn’t technically pickpocket me, she frisked me after tying me up. I was fully aware of the stealing.”

Bruce reminds himself that he can’t strangle his children. He. Can’t. Strangle. His. Children. “I plan to make all of you go through awareness training, again. A civilian!?”

“Still not convinced,” Jason mutters, crossing his arms.

“I don’t care she certainly hasn’t trained with assassins and spent half her life mastering stealth and deception. I expect better from you all.” All three men mutter in acquiescence, to the extent that they would do better. “Continue.”

Jason’s demureness fades to be replaced with a gleeful grin. “Yeah, there wasn’t much left of the trap after I jumped the little bastard. I started shooting-”

“Jason…” Bruce’s headaches gain a specific twinge of exhaustion whenever Jason becomes involved. It’s a talent he possessed since the day Bruce found him hi-jacking the Batmobile’s tires.  

Jason’s hands go up in defense. “With the nerf gun, chill Bruce I ain’t trying to contribute to America’s public shooting crisis. I wouldn’t take a loaded gun into a shopin’ center unless crazies were already causin’ chaos.”

“I’d prefer you not to use guns at all.” It’s a pointless request, but maybe one day Jason would cede to it.

Jason scoffs. “Yeah, you’re still gunna lose that one pops. I got a rep to maintain.”

Bruce reigns in a sigh. Expected.

“Anyway, everythin’ was fine, I’d managed to dismantle their little trap for ya, you’re welcome,” he says with a pointed glance at Dick.

His eldest crosses his arms, and with a total deadpan stare, replies, “Thanks, Jason.”

“But then a security guard interfered after I knocked down a display or two.”

“So, you strung him up and gagged him?” Dick asks voice rising into the hysterical range.

Bruce now understands why Tim looks exhausted, dealing with the fallout from a situation this unhinged for the past forty-eight hours.  

“No, I didn’t do that. Demon spawn already set the rig, waitin’ for you. The guard tripped it.” He pauses, cheese-covered chip in hand. “Although I did add the gag, he was shoutin’ too much and grabbin’ attention. It only took a second, but by the time I turned back, Damian had shot off like a rocket.”

“Don’t take your eyes off the target,” chides Tim, with a smug little grin.

Jason’s eyes flash a brighter shade of green. “Fire.”

“Shut up.”

“Boys…” Bruce warns.

“Fine, fine,” Jason mutters, as he takes another sip of his drink. “I chase him through the store and he’s barely keepin’ ahead of me. I keep shootin’ at him. Newer nerf guns have a range and a surprising amount of ammo. Bastard didn't even look inconvenienced; he takes a fucking phone call at one point.”

“That was when I was chasing Marinette and we found the remains of their plan,” Dick interrupts. “She panicked with the sprung trap and called someone, but I couldn’t hear a word.”

“Yeah, he jumps off the call when I manage a shot at his head, and I’m close enough to have him in reach. Unfortunately, he ducked into the employee-only entrance. We weave through security rooms and offices and shit, and of course, causin’ chaos there.”

“He was right there, and yet somehow, we’re the only ones banned,” mutters Tim.

Jason scoffs. “Yeah, don’t know how that happened. Pretty sure I saw him dump a pot of coffee on-” Tim groans in frazzled distress. “Bad Timbo, you can’t have any more caffeine until you take a goddamn nap!”

Tim slouches into the solid wood dining chair. “You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my dad.”

“Tim you can’t have any more caffeine until you sleep,” Bruce says.

Jason grins, sticking his tongue out at Tim, while Tim only glares and mutters something under his breath about ‘killjoys’ and ‘he’ll show them tired’ and Bruce really doesn’t want to see the result of that decision. This needs to wrap up soon. For both Tim’s sake, and his own as his headache has moved from Hassles-have-evolved-into-ongoing-dumpster-fires to Information-overload-caused by-dumbass-decisions-please-reboot-system.

“I get tangled in an office jam – literally, there were cords involved and by the time I scramble out of it, Damian’s already through a door and down a hallway. I haven’t a clue which way he’s gone, so I pick a direction and gun it because security is on my tail and there ain’t time to waste. I head down a hallway and lock the doors behind me to give me a second of breathing room. Then I spot the intercom system.”

“I wondered how you got close enough to use that,” Dick muses.

“I wondered what they did to piss you off so bad,” Tim adds.

Dick nods. “Same.”

“Yeah, so I call out Demon Spawn and French Bitch over the intercom, and I know they both must have panicked, but the guards broke through the locked doors, so I split. Now here’s the fucking miracle.” Jason leans forward, grinning. “I find the door that’ll take me back to the showroom area, the guards bearing down on me from all four sides. I don’t have a chance in hell, when the lights go off.”

“Blackout?” questions Bruce.

“Magic,” Dick says flatly. “It was Marinette.”

Jason slaps the table, snarling, “Damnit! Now I have to give credit to her.”

“She knocked out electricity to the whole store,” says Tim.

“And caused a display to collapse in front of me. I tripped,” admits Dick.

“You have fought off assassins while poisoned, and executed advanced acrobatic maneuvers with broken bones, and you tripped over a toppled Swedish store display because of the dark?” Bruce knows he’s trained his children better. Why in the world did this go so sideways on them?

Dick braces his arms against the table and roughly slides his fingers through his hair. ”I know. I know. I was right there. Any other day and I wouldn’t have blinked about jumping right over it, but this time it felt… off. Bad day?”

“You’re getting old Golden Boy.” Jason takes a sip of his drink, doing nothing to hide his shit-eating grin as he teases his older brother. “I guess it’s all downhill from here ain’t it.”

Dick flips him off.

Jason sticks out his tongue.

Bruce’s headache takes on a twinge of my-children-are-immature-brats feeling (generally categorized by a sharp sting right at his temple) and holds in an exasperated sigh.

“So, after magic girl shuts the lights off with her mind or whatever, I escape the security guards by an inch. One emergency exit later, and I’m back in the store proper. People are freakin’ the fuck out about the lights. By the time they turn on again, I’ve lost Damian for good, and now I just try to stay off security’s radar. I settle in a nice little blind spot right outside the children’s toy area and keep myself out of any trouble.” Jason looks over at Dick, fighting to keep a smug grin off his face. “Course I did see a woman go off on a poor employee. I kept my nose clean of it ‘cause it wasn’t my business.”

“Oh, ha, ha very funny. That woman was a menace,” groans Dick.

“Woman?” Bruce questions, almost scared to ask.

“Jessica Merope-Laverne, fifty-five, resident of Pleasantville. Married twice, has two children, a restraining order, and a police file with multiple notes about disturbing the peace,” Tim rattles off. “Thoroughly unpleasant.”

“That’s an understatement,” mutters Dick.

“Practically dragged Dickie Bird away by the ear.”

“Right as I was about to nab Marinette too. She’d hidden in one of the wardrobes in the room, and I was this close-” Dick positions his fingers scant centimeters apart from each other, “-to cornering her, and I got dragged away.”

“Shit, would have loved to know that,” mutters Jason. “Anyway, I stood around, making sure nobody was on my tail, soon I heard rumors about a ruckus in the atrium-”

“That would be me,” Tim admits with a grin.

“Well, I didn’t know that. I was hoping demon spawn and Frenchie were involved somehow, so I headed over, and then-”

“Oh, I know what happened from there. I saw the video.” Bruce pins Tim and Jason with a stare. “I respect both of you have opinions-”

“Opinions? Opinions? I have justified grounds for calling out his revolutionary bullshit! His entire life embodies nothing but the anthesis of systemic poverty, and he argues for class cooperation!” shouts Jason. Bruce always marvels at how eloquent Jason becomes when angry.

“Violence isn’t the answer,” counters Tim. “You would harm the very people you try to uplift in the process.”

“Sure, it is! It’s the natural response to a gluttonous, greedy, overburdened, bureaucratic system that’s leeching off the populous and perpetuating its own supremacy.”

Tim slams a hand against the table, raising to his feet, exhaustion clearing from his eyes. “It’s an option, not the option. We can do better than violence if we work at the cause's root problem without pulling out a fucking guillotine.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Oh of course you would argue for that, you’ve never had less than six figures in your bank account in your life.”

“So says the self-proclaimed drug lord!”

“That was ten years ago!”

“A bag of heads on the steps of the GCPD!”

“Oh, get over it!”

“If it matters,” interjects Dick. “Probably doesn’t, systemic economic issues are hard to fix when we have bigger problems like an actively insane criminal population that likes destroying important city infrastructure on a monthly basis.”

“Which Wayne Enterprises does its best to counter,” adds Bruce, not bothering to chide his children back on track. This particular topic turned them into a bunch of unherdable cats.

“Funneling more money into the one percent’s hands!” Jason’s bordering on manic at this point.

“We are the one percent, Jason!” counters Tim. “And we stay that way, despite the copious amount of infrastructure projects, that we hire Gotham citizens for, and pay at least a living wage to all of them. Not to mention every other single employee we hire who also are paid a living wage, with benefits, and support. I know I am privileged. I am trying here.” The last sentence came out as a distraught cry, as he collapses back into his chair.

“Are… are you okay?” Dick asks tentatively, ready to cross the table to comfort his brother.

Tim shoves his hands into his hair and mutters, “I need an espresso.”

“No, you need sleep,” says Bruce, mentally calculating where all the caffeine in the house is so he can hide it. “Can we return to the recap, so your brother can go to bed?”

“My side of things is much shorter in comparison to Jason’s,” says Dick. “As long as nobody interrupts.” Casting a pointed glare in Jason’s direction. Jason shrugs casually and crosses his arms.

“I waited at the children’s play area. Now, a man my age would attract attention without a need to be there, so I’d ducked into the employee-only area, and grabbed a shirt to disguise myself. I hung out in the Starbucks for a good forty-five minutes trying to look like I was on break while observing the play area. Although I couldn’t tell where the vent entrance was, I figured two adults Damian and Marinette’s size would be easy to spot coming out of an area meant for children.

“When an hour and a half passed by, I’m nervous, because neither Jason nor Tim has sent any word. I called them both. They didn’t answer.”

“Yeah, 'cause the French phone napper took our phones,” mutters Jason.

“So, I decided to do some reconnaissance. The lady at the front desk looked bored enough, and so I went over to… chat.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “You mean flirt.”

Dick glares. “Shut up. So, I hang around the front desk for half an hour at most, before the kids went crazy. Like plastic balls being thrown everywhere, kids shrieking, this one little girl, later we learn her name is Abby, she’s doing this whole speech about a revolution-”

“Tim…”

“Not me, I’m not here at this point.”

“I stand there in shock, wondering what the heck set it all off. This one little girl runs up to the daycare worker, Melinda? Melody? Something. I don’t remember. And the little girl’s nose was bleeding, so there immediately goes my peaceful cover. I back up into the crowd, which at this point has gathered around pretty thick.”

“You know I wondered why there were so many people hanging around in that front lobby area,” says Tim.

“I’m almost sure the commotion has something to do with Marinette and Damian, so I keep my eyes peeled waiting for any adult-sized figures to emerge from the play area.” Dick sighs, rubbing a hand across his face. “I was right of course, but I missed Marinette slipping out, and she approached me from behind.”

“This is where you get pickpocketed too!” crows Jason.

“Really, Richard?” asks Bruce with a raised brow. This is ridiculous.

“Okay, look, I was distracted, off my game, there was a ton of screeching, and it had been a long day. And she was very good. The technique was flawless, minus a bit of overacting and a touch of obviousness. Which was her goal because-”

“~It was a trap~” Jason and Tim sing together.

“It was bait,” Dick corrects. “Leading me to a trap, that didn’t even work. So really, I did the best between the three of us.”  

“You all will complete remedial awareness training, so a situation like this never happens again.” Bruce massages the bridge of his nose with a long-suffering sigh. “Just… just please continue.”

“I can’t full-out chase her or anything, but she keeps out of reach through the store, until we reach the place where they set the trap. Obviously, Jason already tripped it, so she turned face and ran in the opposite direction. I followed, trying to convince her to stop and talk. But at this point, she’s full-on outpacing me and doing well too. I’m hesitant to say trained, but she had practice.”

“She’s gotta be a spy, or maybe she’s working for the League?” muses Jason.

“Damian would see right through that,” interrupts Bruce. He knows his youngest son has an instinct when sniffing out undercover League members. Talia certainly sent enough of them over the years.

“Maybe she’s just that good?” says Tim. “I certainly can’t find a damn thing on her, and being a League plant would explain that.”

Dick shrugs. “We’ll figure out her deal later. She calls Damian, and they talk briefly, but I couldn’t hear the conversation. Soon after Jason does his whole intercom takeover Marinette pulls out her little magic electro bursts and short circuits the electricity to the entire store.”

“And then caused you to trip.”

Dick wearily nods. “And then caused me to trip. By the time I detangle myself, she’s long gone. The lights come back on, and I’m stuck wondering where the hell she’s gone. I try to avoid getting clocked by security, so I keep to blind spots, which is how I eventually spot her doing the same.”

“Suspicious,” mutters Tim. “More evidence for the ‘League plant’ theory.”

“Or she could know security is looking for a woman of her description and she’s smart, either way, I tail her and corner her in a display room, no idea why she chose that one, but when I walk in it’s empty.”

“She teleported, or vanished like a ninja,” gasps Tim, eyes wide, pupils smaller than pinpricks. Bruce is now counting the seconds until he passes out.

Dick shakes his head. “No, she hid in the fucking closet. Tim, you need sleep.” Tim sticks out his tongue.

“I was this-” Dick places his fingers centimeters away from each other “-close to nabbing her, and then the whole Jessica situation happened.” He rubs a hand through already messed up, fly-away hair. “She drags me away screeching about lawyers and customer service, and it had been a very long day, so the second her back was turned I bolted. I couldn’t risk heading back to the display room, although if I were Marinette I’d be long gone, so I backtracked to where I stuffed my actual clothes and headed towards the atrium.”

“Yes, I saw your arrival as well,” Bruce confirms with an exasperated drawl. The videos spread out across multiple platforms gave an all-around idea of what happened in the atrium. “You all know better than to escalate things in public. We have an image to maintain after all." The boys nod, cowed and guilty. "That being said, things wrapped up rather neatly.” He eyes the boys with a paranoid weariness. “Too neatly.”

All three sag into their seats and gaze at each other with sheepish grimaces.

“Yeah, B, we noticed that too,” says Jason. “But at the time…” he trails off.

Tim continues, his speech sluggish. “It felt normal, to accept what was going on. The fight, the crazy lady, the little kid with the ball pit balls, her uncle being Dick’s old friend, and the store manager, and they let us go. It was easy to go along with it.” Grimacing, he gestures to his assorted piles of papers. “You know, besides for all the work I have now.” Crossing his arms on the table he lays his head in the middle. “Too many people, so little sense.”

“Damian hasn’t said a word about any of it.” Dick slouches lower in his chair.

“Kid was all smirks when he and the little liar approached us after we left the store,” grumbles Jason. "Had fuckin' ice cream and everything." He spins the almost empty bottle of alcohol coke on the table. “Of course, they made us wait, because after we left and booked it to the car, Dickie realizes his keys are gone too. So there we are standin' in the parking lot, Timmy doesn't have his shoes, and all we got between us is one nerf gun, no phones, no keys, and no fucks left to give.” Bruce, too tired from the absolute rollercoaster of emotions and information his children just sent him on, can do nothing but muster up a stern and disappointed glare. He trained them all better than to let a civilian pull one over on not just one of them, but all of them.

“Yeah, yeah, I know situational awareness. We’ll work on-” Dick breaks off his sentence, and sighs softly. A small soft smile overtakes his face, and he raises a single finger to his mouth. He nods in Tim’s direction.

Tim’s head, previously cradled in his arms, now lolls to the side. Neon blue light from his laptop highlighted his closed eyes, and the purplish bags underneath.

“Finally,” Jason mutters. “I swear he has the survival instincts of a wet paper bag. He’s been up for way too long.”

Bruce is just grateful he won't need to physically drag Tim off to bed and force him to get some desperately needed sleep. “Now we just need to get him to his room.” He would have done it himself if his ribs didn’t spasm the second he thought of the idea.  

“Not it,” Dick whispers so quickly it’s practically a rush of air.

“Not it,” says Jason, barely a millisecond behind.

“Ha!” Dick impishly grins. “You do it.”

“But-”

“Nope, I said it first. You got to carry him.”

Jason turns his head towards Bruce, big bluish-green eyes looking for support.

Bruce doesn’t get himself involved in the decision-making games his children play. “He said it first.”

Jason’s hopeful glance turns into a disgruntled snarl. “I hate both of you,” he spits.

“Love ya too, Jay.”

“Thank you, Jason.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, wrinkling his nose. Jason pushes back his chair, and although he’s annoyed, the solid wood chair doesn’t scrape against the floor, so he can’t be too mad. Despite drinking his entire liter of mystery-alcohol-diet-coke mixture, his footsteps pace steady and strong. “Come here, ya little coffee-addicted gremlin.” Jason slips his arms around Tim’s body. It’s a testament to how exhausted his son must be, that Tim only flutters his eyes and protests incoherently at being lifted out of his chair.

“Quiet down, Replacement,” Jason murmurs, his voice soft as he speaks to his sleep-deprived brother. “All your calls and research will be there when you return from the land of nod.”

“But…”

“You can go willingly, or I can grab sedatives from the med bay and forcefully put your ass to sleep. I’ll put a bet on who’ll win that brawl.” Jason stands a good six inches taller than Tim, who looks like little more than a bedraggled rag doll in his older brother’s arms. Bruce knew who would win that fight too. Tim sighs and relaxes another inch into Jason’s arms. “There ya go. You can go back to bein’ insufferable once you’ve had some fucking sleep.”

“Hmm…” Tim's eyes fully flutter shut. Jason shakes his head and rolls his eyes, but softly traverses the room so as to not jostle him. Looking back over his shoulder one last time to shoot an I-can’t-believe-I’m-doing-this look at Bruce and Dick, before walking out of the room.

Silence overtakes the grand dining room as the last of Jason’s footsteps fades into the echoing halls of Wayne Manor. A light rain drizzles outside, the faintest patter hitting the tall arched windows letting in a soft grey light.

Dicks groans, pulling himself out of his slouch gracefully and into more of a respectable position. “I’m getting too old for that.”

“If you’re old, I must be ancient,” Bruce responds. He’s not, really. Only forty-seven to Dick’s thirty-two. What he’d been thinking taking in a ten-year-old at twenty-five, he couldn’t really quite say. The only thing that mattered at the time was the aching echo of loneliness reflected in the eyes of a child who had just lost their parents.

Now, look at them, all these years later.

“Nah, you’re not ancient, B. We’ve just been through enough shit in our lives to age a person twenty times over.”

Bruce gives him a look of high disappointment. “Stunts like this do not help, Richard.”

Dick has the decency to look properly ashamed. “I really didn’t mean for the situation to get so out of hand,” Dick insists in a soft, quiet tone. Bruce doesn’t quite believe it. His sons thrive off of chaos. Even if they didn’t mean for things to get out of hand, they tended to actively encourage it once in the middle of the undertow. “I know, I know, but how was I supposed to anticipate Damian teaming up with a… witch? Magician? Whatever she is.” Dick mutters the last sentence, but Bruce hears it clearly.

His sons certainly think the young woman is dangerous. Tim is thoroughly confused and stressed by her existence, although deciphering his third son’s emotions through his fog of exhaustion is a vexing endeavor Bruce still isn’t sure he accomplishes all the time. Jason clearly hates her or at least is holding a very large, very deep grudge against her. He wonders what exactly the content of the conversation was when she threatened Tim and Damian. He wonders if she knew the effect it would have on Jason.

Flickering light from the chandelier above pierces his eyes like a particularly vicious game of stab-the-vigilante, but this conversation is important, so, despite the full body ache accompanying his you’ve-pushed-too-far-and-now-you’ll-suffer-the-consequences migraine, he pushes through to ask, “What do we actually know about her?”

Dick sighs heavily, rubbing a hand across his face, and suddenly he looks every inch of his thirty-two years. “To be honest? Only a little. Tim wasn’t the only one to look her up. I did my searching too.”

“And?”

“Practically nothing. Basic info, but school records sealed tighter than Fort Knox, and firewalls grow tighter every time I try to hack ‘em. School activities, online media presence, and even pictures; all of it is whisps in the wind. Every time I try to look deeper, something...” Dick shudders as if shaking away a bad feeling. “I come up short and I can’t find a reason why. Even trying to think about Paris as a whole feels off and I can’t put my finger on it.”

“I can see if there’s anything in the League’s database about the city the past few years. It was Diana’s home base for decades until…” Bruce trails off, his mind an unexpected blank. Diana moved to the US from Paris eventually. Sometime within the last decade, but he can’t quite remember why. Surely, she must have told him at some point.

“She’s a fashion designer, I know that much. She has a website but it’s very bare bones. Commission work only. And her current course of study at Gotham U is Fashion and Business Management. But-” Dick’s hands flail into the air. “She’s from Paris! What on earth possessed her from moving from one of the fashion capitals of the world to here, to study fashion is beyond me.” 

“Hmmm…” Bruce’s brain whirls at a million miles a minute. Connections forming and rearranging on his mind’s case board. The incongruency is so stark, there must be a reason. They haven’t found it yet.

“As for her magic…” Dick shrugs. “She said her powers mostly affected situational outcomes, and from the incidents I saw, she told the truth. But I’ve never seen magic like that before. Magic that just… happens. She didn’t say words, she didn’t make hand gestures. She used tiny little - I want to call them mechanized balls, but we never came close enough to tell – to kickstart the magic.”

“A techno-mage then?”

Dick contemplates the idea for a moment before saying, “Could be. But it felt more than that. As soon as she became involved the whole day felt… left of normal. Which I suppose aligns with situational outcome manipulation. The day certainly went their way…” Dick shrugs. “I just don’t know.”

Bruce hums, finally asking the question that had swirled in his mind since the girl was brought up. “Do you think she’s a danger?”

Dick leans back in the chair, his face an avalanche of flickering emotions. Wind lightly howled outside the dining hall filling the intervening silence. Finally, he sighs and says, “No, I don’t think so. She was chaotic sure but genuinely enjoyed the game for what it was. Damian probably encouraged the more unhinged ideas. And yes, she has magic, but so do a ton of other, far more obviously dangerous people. Our system is tricked out for all types of magic users, and even if she can bypass them due to her own unique magic, we’d at least receive a warning. And as for our identities…” Dick half-smiles. “She didn’t even know we were the ‘Waynes’ until we were just about to leave, and she didn’t appear particularly star-struck. I doubt she’d make the jump from chaotic billionaire’s kids to vigilantes.”  

“As for Damian…?” Bruce hardly knows what to make of his youngest’s out-of-character reaction and hopes to receive some cohesive read on the situation from his eldest.  

Dick, being quite unhelpful, shrugs. “I think you should talk to him. Get his side of the story. Things may have been chaotic on our end, but he did genuinely have fun. And, yes, he’s acting out of the norm.” Dick pauses. “Way, way, out of the norm for him, but I don’t think he’s enchanted. I think he just has a crush.”

Bruce blinks. Isn’t that a hell of a thought?

Damian.

With a crush.

He doesn’t have the bandwidth to deal with these kinds of realities. Reflexively he massages his temple with the tips of his fingers trying to relieve the paining, aching pressure.

“Headache again?” asks Dick with sympathy. After twenty years his son knows his tells well, and Bruce has always had headaches, although his reasons for having them have certainly increased over the years.

“Yeah, is what it is though. We’ll keep an eye on Damian, have you run him through the influence-affected protocols?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

Dick shrugs. “Nothing, it’s mostly why I think he’s fine. She may be a danger, or powerful, but I don’t think she’s doing anything to Damian. Besides making him run up the data plan on his phone. He really hasn’t stopped texting the past two days.”

They’ve spent plenty of time talking about Damian, but Bruce hasn’t seen a glimpse of him since he woke up this morning. “Where is he?”

Dick pulls out his phone. “On a date, according to Stephanie.” Pulling up a photo that’s taken in a long-distance setting. Damian is pictured, seated at a cafe table, drinking out of a white coffee cup. Across from him sits a girl, Asiatic features, black hair, clad in a colorful sundress. They’re both smiling at each other.

It’s normal and adorable. And slightly worrying. Damian doesn’t smile like that unless looking at a fluffy four-legged creature.

“Stephanie trailed him?” 

Dick flips the phone away. “Actually, she and Cass both followed him when he left this afternoon. Not sure what they planned, but they’ve sent some nice pictures.” He pauses for a moment and smiles fondly. “If she’s not a danger, or a League plant, this could be really good for him.”

Bruce hums, unsure, and hating himself for that unsurety. He’ll make a call when he has more information, and less of a migraine. “Go wash up and grab some sleep. I’m out until my ribs heal, so I’ll need you to take point on patrol.”

Rising from his chair, Dick stretches and shoots him a grin. “It took you twenty-five years, but damn, you’ve finally learned to call it quits when you need a break. Proud of you B.”

Bruce doesn’t bother to disguise his roll of the eyes. Dick would know he did it regardless. “Get on.”

Dick shoots him a lazy salute. “Sir, yes, sir.” He ambles to the door, and Bruce calls out again before he’s gone.

“And next time, Dick, please try to keep the antics out of the paper, and off the internet.”

The shit-eating grin betrays Dick’s real thoughts when he says, “Of course Bruce, won’t happen again.”

Liar.

Bruce shakes his head in reluctant bemusement – should he honestly have expected anything else – and Dick ducks out of the door without another word. Finally, the dining room is quiet, except for the pitter-patter of rain on the window panes, and the soft hum of Tim’s computer.

Carefully, Bruce rises from the chair, his side twinging, head throbbing in what is now a full-on migraine.

He should have stayed in bed.

Ah, well, he’s suffered worse, and now he has a good idea of what happened with his sons that caused a headache so insistent he felt it halfway across the galaxy.

Gently closing Tim’s laptop, he doesn’t bother to touch the articles and paper, knowing his son’s organizational system may appear a mess to outsiders – even him on occasion – but that it has meaning for him. He observes the rest of the room; collecting Tim’s coffee mugs, and Jason’s empty plate and coke bottle – no need to have Alfred do it if he was right here – and ambles slowly to the kitchen taking care not to drop the dishes or disturb his ribs.

Placing the dishes away, Bruce leans heavily on the counter. Mind whirling, analyzing, and connecting the information as he has always done, however, it battles for dominance over the present, persistent, migraine. His body screams for more rest, and as much as he wishes to dig to the bottom of these problems right now, he trusts Dick has given him an accurate read of the situation. Later he can pry information from the girls, maybe they’ll have a less biased view of Damian’s… friend than his sons do.

He flicks the lights off in the kitchen, for now though, he’s heading back to sleep.

-line break-

A nap, a full meal, and hours later, the pitch black of the night concealed a heavier storm than the light drizzle which draped over the manor earlier in the day. Bruce, knowing damn well he wasn’t fit for patrol, sat in his office, a bottle of forty-year whisky perched next to a crystalline tumbler and a box of chocolates. A minor indulgence, especially as he should stay far away from alcohol at the moment. But if he hadn’t died from insane nutcases, aliens, or his children’s antics, mixing medicine and alcohol probably wouldn’t kill him.

Bruce snapshots a picture of the newspaper Alfred gave him this morning.

The front-page cover contains enough of the story to showcase the significant amount of drama his children had caused.

He texts the images to both Diana and Clark.

All he adds is, ‘I always know, and I’m always right.’

He pours another finger of the amber liquid into his glass and swirls it around as the computer turns on. Just because he wasn’t out and about, didn’t mean he intended to take the night off. Bruce stretches his fingers and opens up a blank case file template.

Time to find out who exactly is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. 

#maribat #damian x marinette #maridami #mlb crossover #daminette #damimari #marinette dupain cheng x damian wayne #ml x dc #marinette dupain-cheng x damian wayne #damientte #damianette #mlb x dc #the ikea verse #ikea verse #headache classification system #the great ikea game

[miracle-sham]

Frigid They Froze Midst Heart Thawing Woes.

| Daminette December |

| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] | | [UwU] | | [OwO] |

| Everyone always thought Ladybug was unbreakable. That she was immune to negative feelings, unlike the rest of Paris. That she would never falter, never fail, never fall. And so no one could have expected when tragedy strikes and Paris falls at the hands of her once beloved hero. |

| Now who could save them all, from the icy clutches of a devastating Akuma? |

| And would anyone even try to save the once beloved hero, over the countless suffering civilians? |

———

| Word Count: 16,172. |

| Warnings/Tags: Akumanette/akumatised/hurt Marinette, Implied/referenced character death motif, Near death experience, Temporary character death, Not really character death, Major character undeath, Past character death, Grief/Mourning motif, Mind control/Mind manipulation, Mind control aftermath, Blood and Injury, Canon-typical violence, Minor violence, Snow/ice powers and theme, Frozen apocalypse/icy wasteland, Lovers to enemies, Enemies to lovers, Some Swearing, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and angst, Slowburn, Eventual happy ending, Angst with a happy ending, Reunions, and Recovery. |

———

| A/N: It's here! It's finally posted, only took a little over a year to complete this monstrosity of a oneshot! I would like to thank everyone who read the uwu-speak apwil fowols version and the massive amount of support you all showed for it, this meant the absolute world to me and really helped keep me motivated to finish this in full! I truly hope you'll all enjoy the original version, in it's entirety just as much as the apwil fowols version! |

| I'd also like to just say thanks to Saf and Rae as well, for their moral support throughout writing this! |

| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. |

———

 Was it always doomed from the start? Marinette wondered hollowly, eyes flickering from frozen ruin to frozen ruin. Barely visible from within the seething flurry of snowflakes.

 Bleak.

 Blinding.

 An unending expanse of glistening and swirling snow and ice. Almost too bright and too obscuring to see anything else. Even despite the dullness of night.

 A white-out illuminated by the snowglow.

 Now, the only company she could keep were the immortalised frozen statues of the people who were unable to escape the devastation of the descending blizzard she wrought. Their silence of life was deafening.

 A chilling mockery of what had haunted her nightmares.

 Kicking her legs idly from her precariously precious position on the railings of the Eiffel Tower, the familiarity of the action almost burned as cold as the frigid city itself. Was this how Chat felt? She mused, staring at the bleached white and faded blue spots of her Ladybug?—Frozen Heart? Lady Blanc suit. Shaking her head, she couldn't help but curl her lips slightly in distaste. Maybe it's ironic that I didn't end up in black with red spots like all the false Ladybug Akumas.

 But her new colours are what she deserved. An echo of her once-partner; just as she was an echo of the hero she used to be. Especially in how the accents of her new Akuma suit echoed the old hero suit that the ice power-up had given her, with the crystalline and snowflake patterns covering the once-red-now-white parts, and the ice-blue crystals along her waist and around the yo-yo.

 Perhaps, there was some small comfort, in that the destruction she caused was little in comparison to that of Chat Blanc's. She tilted her head to the side and stared up at the night's snow glow-light clouded skies. Her moon was still intact for one, not that it was visible from here any longer, however. Though, not quite a small mercy so much as another chilling mockery, really.

 She clenched her fists so that the icicles clinging to the metal dug into her suit's gloves. For two, only her Paris had been affected this time. And for three, her death toll was significantly lower, what with only killing a huge swathe of Paris' population as opposed to, y'know how he wiped out all life except himself.

 Her Paris still had survivors lurking within the desolation. Treading tracks through bitter winds, clinging to slowly petrifying hope. Survivors that would scream and cry and yell and try ever so futilely to fight against her, whenever they saw her in her new form, reduced to a wraith of her former glory. They were the only sounds other than the crunch and crackle of ice and snow, or the tinkling of icicles in the wind.

 Not to mention, her Hawkmoth still lingered on. With his black ice glazed goadings that fractured her mind like her and Chat Noir's bones had, beneath his butterfly staff.

 A haunting reminder that she had fallen, failed them—Paris, that even their beloved little heroes weren't infallible.

 Scoffing to herself, Lady Blanc shook her head and shifted her position so that she could curl up into a ball and rest her heavy head upon her knees. Though, there was no crown to weigh her down, just the cold harsh wasteland that she had ruptured in rime.

 (It was almost ironic still, that the ice power-up suit she once wore so long ago, gave her a tiara of icicles but her Akuma form did not—the symbolism of this change, however, was not lost on her—after all what is a princess without her crown. Headless. That's what. As the suffering people decreed.)

 Nonetheless, Paris as it was and now is, had formed the freezing prison of her own making. Even with Hawkmoth's influence shattered like the ice of his statue's form, Lady Blanc was tethered—ice-bound—to Paris. A cruel twist of irony that with her frozen heart, Hawkmoth had ensured her weakness was the warmth, the heat. To make it so nothing would thaw her heart, especially not some pitifully desperate professions of love, friendship, and claims that the real her was still inside and that she just needed to fight him and his influence—control even.

 Biting back a bitter laugh, she ignored the near-silent whispers in the back of her mind crying those very same proclaims. Something that Hawkmoth hadn't anticipated. Especially seeing how her once-partner had turned out after so long in isolation. Would that be my fate too?

 In response, the creeping pernicious laugh of Hawkmoth rattled like hoar frost mantled chains in her head. It seemed to last an eternity before fading into the frore like everything else within Paris.

 Lady Blanc closed her eyes slowly in languish, thoughts drifting back to her once-partner. They might not have been meant for each other romantically, especially after she fell in love with a prince of her own. But perhaps Chat was onto something when he said we were meant for each other. Opposites in power yet our fallen fates are mirrored in white and blue and drenching loneliness.

 She sighed wearily. As if it would somehow ease the burden and the pain. Opening her eyes, she glared listlessly at the frosted-over traffic lights that would remain devoid of colour so long as her tyranny would reign. A mix of colours she wouldn't see together again unless she left Paris. Murmuring beneath her breath, “I never thought I'd miss that eyesore suit of his…” she smiled hollowly.

 Regardless of whether Hawkmoth made it so that leaving her gelid domain or destroying her Akuma object would kill her or not, it was not like going anywhere else would be viable after what she did. She'd be branded a criminal—a villain, like Hawkmoth—then locked up and be left to rot—languish—or well, melt. After all, like most Akumas, she'd become something a little less human. And in her case, a little more ice thanks to the akumatisation.

 What would her boyfriend even think of her now? A twisted reflection in the ice of the one he loved? Or perhaps just an obstacle between getting the one he loved back?

 Well, it wouldn't matter anyway.

 If Lady Blanc never strayed from within the reaches of the frost… It would be unlikely he'd see her again, especially as she was now. And at least by never drifting from the floes of Paris, she'd be able to put up a worthwhile fight against whatever self-proclaimed heroes and vigilantes would inevitably come knocking.

 Inevitably. Because an entire city had been glaciated for days, then weeks, then months with no signs of the calamity being undone. And whilst the Justice League and others had respected, that during Hawkmoth's reign she and Chat Noir held authority over who else could be active without being a potential Akuma risk; undoubtedly that respect would melt away like the snow and be soon forgotten. What with the sheer amount of destruction and a glaring absence of any heroes, temporary or permanent, really it would only be so long until someone would try to step in or investigate.

 And for all that her wretched hope was worth, she dearly hoped it wouldn't have to be Damian who would be sent to scout out and attempt to remedy the tragedy.

 After all, if other heroes or vigilantes infringe upon what is hers, then it's only fair they fall under her jurisdiction once more despite any revoking on their part. And unlucky for whoever the poor souls that would be sent to investigate turn out to be, Lady Blanc won't be allowing such a disrespect of her once-authority to stand, regardless of the current situation.

 And if he is sent… Well, then no matter how much the tiny shred of life-warmth-happiness, that is encased in layer upon layer upon layer within the ghost shell of her frozen heart, begs her not to. She will have to defend herself and her domain. Even if it means hurting him. And perhaps even killing him...

 The second Lady Blanc finished the thought, her resolve cracked under the weight of those pesky emotions of hers. Choking back a silent grieving sob, her shoulders heaved. It almost seemed as though the emotions might pass, when for the first time since the akumatisation, she genuinely burst into tears. A drowning surging wail of regret and loss and hurt and fear, all twisted together. But not even crying was spared from what she had become. For the wind howled in tandem with her wails, and the only tears she could shed were frozen ones. And as she cried her frozen tears, so too did the sky. Hail, falling from the sky and shattering onto everything in the air. Over and over and over again. Cascading shards of ice like relentless blades slashed into the surfaces. Leaving them covered in a blanket of icy caltrops.

 She scowled through the crystalline blurriness. The airborne hail shards swirled harmlessly around her whilst in the distance, faint yells and screams began to echo—a warning for those also trapped within the hailstorm to take shelter. Lady Blanc didn't need to patrol to know that bright vivid red splatters of blood would soon be painting the ice and snow. But patrol by heart she would. Any sight of bright colour amongst the white was now both a threat and a treat. As evidenced by Hawkmoth's gleefully maleficent croonings, in her mind.

 Uncurling herself from her position on the Eiffel Tower railings, Lady Blanc stretched idly before launching her yo-yo towards the sounds of screaming, and swinging over to follow where it may lead.

 It didn't take too long, despite being distant-sounding from up the Tower, the screams were actually rather close by. It was just that the sounds had been muffled by all the hail and ice wrought by the storms of her whims.

 Sticking to rooftops and balconies—not unlike how she used to—Lady Blanc arrived at the point where the screams originated from in under thirty seconds. It was almost too easy to find. Freshly glistening splatters of crimson on powdered white sparkled like a burning beacon.

 Settling softly like snow, upon a nearby roof that gave her a clear view of the painted snow, she focussed her attention on it. Not even bothering to check for the one who bled—as if Hawkmoth would allow her—she nestled on the shadowed drift beside a stone-cold chimney and stared at the rare sight. Futilely begged her hollow heart to feel something for the pain and suffering spilt.

 Even from her high perch, she could clearly see how the warmth of the blood had thawed the ice around it somewhat. The colour was already partially diluted and diluting further as more snowflakes fell. It wouldn't be long before the leeching frost claimed it and caused the colour to fade away to white like everything else that had once held vibrancy in this city.

 Another flicker of colour caught her attention, not far from the blood below. Red as well, though not the red of blood but the red of a bird raised by bats. She tilted her head to the side and listened for any sound beneath the silence of the crying cold.

 A sob pierced the air, followed by hushed whispers—promises—of safety, of help.

 That won't do, the crooning taunted.

 Lady Blanc gritted her teeth and forlornly tried to tune it out.

 The accent of the one whispering promises, was distinctly Gotham—a voice of bat wreathed in red, deep with a slight growl not unlike a cornered animal tending to an injured juvenile. Not him then, not as sharp and snappy as his accent could get. No, he was more likely to hiss than growl.

 The Bird below, most likely Jason from the voice—though Red Hood in his current attire—stepped fully into view and glanced skyward. Searching, seeking. For her.

 For but a split second, Lady Blanc felt the urge to call out in desperation, to reveal herself and beg for mercy, for forgiveness, for help...

 Your heart for power, reminded the inciting whims.

 Cold like coffin glass; she, in languish, conceded.

 Otherwise staying perfectly still like the statues she spent most of her time around these days, Lady Blanc narrowed her eyes and with the slightest will of her ghost-shelled heart, wrenched upon the lightly falling hail. And stirred the clawing blizzard.

 From hail to icicles, it rained.

 And the icicles, they wailed.

 Slashing talons of ice carved through the flurry of snow, piercing the bitter night.

 The sudden onslaught of shattering followed by cursing below did not, in fact, bring her any joy. Hawkmoth may have found it entertaining but that was all the more reason Lady Blanc hated doing it. But she couldn't let them see her, recognise her.

 A crash of bodies tumbling through a broken down door below, granted her the freedom to close her eyes and soften the storm back to a languishing lightness. But with it, revealed the blood-stained street whitewashed pristine once more.

 Scowling, Lady Blanc glared at where the colour had been. At least, she reminded herself, there will be another soon. Birds of a feather flock together.

 Yet no sooner had she thought that, a warning from her domain she heard.

 Warmth, whispered the writhing winds.

 And behind her, the familiar sound of a katana being drawn cut through the crackling silence of snow settling on ice. He was here; the verglas on the roof's metal railings hardly crunched beneath the ninja-light footsteps of him.

 “You, are not Ladybug.” Robin hissed oh so astutely. His katana raised; ready to slash at what he must clearly perceive as an imposter, a snowmelt simulacrum. Unhesitating. Still as ice not unlike his civilian-earned title. The Prince of Ice indeed.

 Lady Blanc tilted her head to one side, in mimicry of her once-partner. A billowing cloud of mist and ice burst from her blue lips in a frosty laugh. “No, no I am not.”

 He scoffed, and took another step closer. “Then who are you and where is Ladybug. Or Chat Noir.”

 “You're a detective, aren't you?” She responded noncommittally.

 “I am the son of Batman, of course I am!” Another step closer. Snarling, he added, “if you have hurt her—either of them, then I will make you pay.”

 Lady Blanc stood, swiping off the light dusting of snow that had settled on her as she had been settled in contemplation. She could tell him the truth. That she had hurt both of them dearly, froze them to the bone and stole the warmth—life—from their hearts, leaving them pale shells of frost and grief. But… that would be giving Hawkmoth what he wanted—the anguish of forcing others to hurt their loved ones, twisted and under the beck and call of a mad villain. Never mind, it was definitely already too late for those shreds of her morals to surface beneath the ice of her traitorous mind—considering not even ten seconds earlier, what she did to Red Hood. And that's not even counting what she's done to Paris.

 Turning to face him, her lips curled into a mocking smile. “So presumptuous. You don't recognise me. And yet…?” Pausing to chuckle as bitterly as the winds and shake her head slightly, she gestured sharply at him. “Some detective you are.”

 Delicately, she took a few steps back, until she was all but swaying over the ice-slick edge. Motioning to the swirling vortex of snow that reformed beneath them, her smile melted into a thin downturned sneer. “Why not take a look below. After all, I'd be more concerned about the other bird down there, than Ladybug and Chat Noir right now.”

 “Red Hood is handling the situation adequately.” Robin hissed, glowering at her with that desperately familiar expression of barely restrained violence borne from protectiveness. “What. Have. You. Done. To. Them.”

 Lady Blanc's lips curled into a wry smirk. “Mhmm, well I suppose if it's handled, then that's my cue to leave.” She teetered on the edge and swung her yo-yo idly as if in preparation to throw it. Quickly glancing back at him, her wry smirk faltered for but a fleeting moment as she briefly diverted the avalanche of languish and fear fueling her power.

 She swallowed a breath of chilling air thickly, a meagre attempt to keep the roiling emotions at bay for the fragile moment in which she offered him a silver lining of truth. “The only thing to happen to the heroes, was a fridged family reunion turned frosty. You're far too late to save them now.”

 Exhaling harshly, she tilted forwards and over the edge.

 Only for Robin to lunge after her.

 One. Second. Too. Late.

 The wind whipped around them as his fingers scarcely brushed through the space she had once occupied.

 A weightlessness cascaded over her as her feet left the roof and she began to fall. Her yo-yo, clasped closed within her hand. And distinctly, no grappling line extended.

 Faintly from the roof, she could hear Robin cursing in Arabic. He hadn't fallen with her, it seemed. How almost poetic it was.

 She was a fallen hero, and he was still stood safely atop his own heroic vigilante pedestal. Safe from being dragged down with her into the burning blizzard.

 The distance of said fall was roughly ten metres or so, and the snowdrift would cushion her landing. Harmlessly, though in no small part thanks to a side effect of her akumatised form and said snowdrift, she flopped into the snow like an ungraceful cat. Her limbs splayed in the mockery of a snow angel. Lady Blanc let herself stay as she had fallen, within the snow angel. Waiting patiently, she listened carefully for any sound that would signify where and what both the Birds could be doing. She would need the advantage on their next move in order to slip away dramatically and effectively.

 No less than half a minute passed before she once again heard the approach of Robin's steel-toed boots crushing the snow below with each furious step.

 Crunch-crackle-crunch-crunch. Crunch-crunch-crackle-crunch.

 Swish. The silver blade of the katana gleamed through the veil of white. It was easy to see that it was now aimed at her throat this time. Ready to strike should she bring him more strife, clearly.

 “Where are they?” He demanded immediately upon stepping within her sight, shoulders trembling. Whether from cold, panic, or fury, it was hard to tell.

 Lady Blanc cocked her head to one side, causing part of the snow angel surrounding her head to concave in on itself over her. Obscuring part of her vision with more snow, not that she really needed to rely on her vision anymore, what with her Akuma abilities. She bared her teeth at him, in the mockery of the smile. “Where the reunion occurred.”

 Scowling, Robin pressed the katana closer to her neck, in warning, all but hissing his next words. “And where is that?”

 “Where do you think?” She responded, raising an eyebrow behind her mask. Closing her eyes, Lady Blanc smiled wryly, a single stray tear trailed down her face, freezing and falling like lonely hail. Breathing softly, she exhaled slowly but deeply and in doing so, she began to melt back into the snow. The ribbons in her hair melted away first, causing her hair to fall from its signature pigtails. And as she became one with the snow, so too did the magic that kept her identity from being recognisable, thawing away just enough for connections to be made.

 “Stop!” Robin yelped, a brief moment of confusion and conflicted panic washed over his face as he began to piece it together; obvious in the way his eyebrows wiggled—jumping between furrowing and raising—in the way he gritted his teeth and pouted before biting at the insides of his lips then falling back into the gritted expression and then repeating the expressions again. In the way his fingers flexed in a specific pattern against his katana—a pattern that she knew he only did subconsciously when feeling conflicted or when losing his trust or faith in someone. In the way his—

 —His expression shuttered into neutrality.

 Lady Blanc couldn't help but note how it was the very same expression he would make every time him having fought family or friends was brought up in conversation. The muted flickers of determination, betrayal, grief, and reluctant resignation. The echoes of mourning the pain once more.

 A cascading avalanche of guilt slammed into her as she stared up at him with fracturing horror. And he came crashing to his knees before her, like an ungainly newborn fawn, in equal parts shock.

 Grimacing, Robin blinked slowly, clearly reassessing the situation. In a small, almost disbelieving—almost challenging voice, he whispered, “Marinette?” and winced immediately after.

 Lady Blanc would have snorted at his reaction, as he was no doubt remembering the 'no names in the field' rule but at that very moment, she was barely weathering the swirling storm of grief tearing through her mind.

 And in response, the storm outside of her howled like the shattering of her heart. The wind thrashed and flailed, ripping the fallen hail and icicles into the air once more in a deadly dance of blades and bludgeoning. The uppermost layers of snow were torn from the top and scattered into the air, blanketing Lady Blanc and Robin in the powdery pall of the blizzard.

 As if both were frozen into statues, neither moved a muscle. Eyes latched onto each other with all the desperation and dread of the too-thin cracking ice over a plunge into frozen waters; a splintering of the shards of their promises to one another unspoken.

 How long ago had it been, since they'd both whispered the words of comfort and safety to one another. Of agreeing to let the other protect them, and save them should it come to it.

 How long since she had last held him in her hands, and hugged him with all her might.

 How long...

 Another stray frozen tear fell from her eyes. Followed by another, and another, and another. Until the tears turned to streaks of ice cascading down her face. Two thin wobbly rimy lines from eyes to chin.

 Lady Blanc jerked forwards from where she was still half-melting into the snow angel, reaching one hand towards him in a frantic heart-wrenching attempt to hold him once more. To feel him beneath her grasp with the definitive evidence that he was real, that he was warm, that he was alive.

 The ghost of a smothering wail was wrenched from her throat as her fingers just barely brushed the side of his face and the bursting agony of his warmth scalded her. Her fingertips melted, dripping down into the snow. Her fingers, then hand, then wrist, then arm, swiftly followed but a second later in excruciating boiling pangs of languish. Pining in grieving love as she languished—fading and withering away—before him.

 The last thing she saw and heard, were his eyes scouring across the snow angel she had made, him swallowing thickly and choking out a near-silent heartbroken whisper. “Angel...”

 The snowdrift collapsed in on itself once more, covering up the space she had taken up and leaving it an empty snow-filled grave.

 Unbeknownst to her, Robin stared uncomprehendingly at the empty snow-filled grave—angel that she—what was left of Marinette—had just melted into. 

 “No... No-no-no-no!”  His voice dropped to scarcely a rasping raging whisper of mourning despair laid bare. “This can't be…”

 With a trembling hand and heart, he weathered the fading storm, reaching one hand to the place on his jaw where she had reached for him with her snow-light touch.

 “I will save you.” He vowed, for he had a wraith to put to rest and he would not be repeating the same mistakes again. He would follow her down this time, no matter the fall.

 ———

 Down in the depths below the Agreste manor, Lady Blanc reformed within Hawkmoth's now snow and statue-laden repository of a hidden butterfly garden. A languishing ache in her hollow heart.

 With her identity revealed, it would only be a matter of time before he and his family tracked down the lair to confront her. Now that they knew she was alive and she had failed, that she was weak even beneath the haunting frostbitten necrosis of Hawkmoth's influence.

 Pointedly ignoring the shattered and rotting remains of said villain—carelessly littered across the edge of the butterfly garden, halfway to tipping over the edge of the platform—she huffed to herself and paced the icy walkway. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to hours. Still, she did not relent. Though every so often… she caught her attention drifting over to the frore statue of Chat Noir, and her akumatised glacial ribbon—one that Damian had sewed for her, with delicate robins and ladybugs inexpertly stitched along it—clutched in the frozen outstretched hand. With every glance towards her object, the overwhelming urge to crush it with all her strength flittered through her mind, not unlike the Akuma within. It was a pointless urge, a snowmelt memory of what she used to do in the face of such objects. Destroy and free in order to heal.

 She's tried to, oh how she's tried. But her hands burn cold, and cataclysm could burn only in rot and rust. Neither would burn hot enough to melt the seal keeping her ice-bound in her wretched frozen form.

 A delicate chiming interrupted her thoughts. Her icicle warning system. The Birds had found her. The traps throughout the Agreste Manor, both Hawkmoth's and her own, were still active. But they wouldn't keep them from finding and entering the lair for long. And she could always deactivate her own traps for them...

 You know what you must do. Crowed Hawkmoth, in her head like the pinpricks of icicles dripping blood onto snow.

 Lady Blanc's steps faltered and she shut her eyes, tipping her head back and scrunching up her face. Letting out a heavy sigh, she gritted her teeth and continued pacing, fixing an aimless angry glare at anything and everything in sight within the lair. Reluctantly, she decided to verbalise her thoughts to herself in an attempt to help herself decide on her next course of action instead. “I… I can't let them destroy my object. It can only be destroyed by heat and if it is, then there's a good chance it will kill me. Just touching him hurt so badly… I can't… I can't go through that again. I can't...”

 Pausing for but a shallow wraith of a breath, she winced. “Furthermore, with me akumatised, the miraculous cure cannot be cast unless the earrings are stolen from me.”

 She sighed again and dropped her shoulders, one hand reaching up to brush her fingers against the miraculous within her grasp but hesitating at the last second again. Not daring to actually touch it. “If I try to remove them, like I tried with…” Her thoughts trailed off and a pained expression crossed her face. In the corner of her eye, she could see her reflection twisted and warped in the ice, the blue of her masked eyes almost glowing like her once-partner's cataclysm in the dim light.

 As she stared, a loud SNAP echoed through the lair. And one long thick crack spread across the reflecting ice. Starting from the neck of the reflection. The same place where Robin's sword had been aimed.

 A second crack shattered the silence.

 Whirling around on her heel, Lady Blanc turned to the direction it came from. Her heart dropped. Her thoughts ground to a halt. The ribbon, her akumatised ribbon, was now cracked. Just like the reflection. Just like her resolve.

 A wave of pain slammed into her. She collapsed to her knees. Head held in her hands, she stared desperately at her literal lifeline. “No, no, no, no!”

 The chimes echoed again. More urgently this time. And she knew, knew without needing to understand exactly what the chimes conveyed—one Bird caught in a trap, one Bird free and heading straight for Hawkmoth's vault where the lift to the lair was still hidden, even after all this time. And lastly, two Bats stalking and surrounding the estate—circling like owls waiting for the moment to swoop down and rip her apart with their talons.

 Time was running out.

 She could hear him, the haunting echo of Hawkmoth whispering in her mind, urging her. She needed to act. She needed to fight them. Protect her ribbon from being destroyed by them. She can't do it. Not like this.

 Lady Blanc swallowed thickly, desperation clawing at her throat. Glancing back over her shoulder at the distorted and cracked reflection, she wailed to herself. “I know, okay, I know I should've fought against this harder, I should've been able to overcome this. But it's only now that the ice is cracking. What changed? Why now? Was it because I cried today, for the first time since I failed?”

 Not unbidden, the answer comes to her mind wreathed in the malefic goading of Hawkmoth. And with it, a silent question too, one that she hadn't dared ponder in all this time.

 Bunnyx?

 It had to be. How else could the Bats and Birds have arrived within Paris without her domain warning her until she had stumbled across them by sheer luck. Why they arrived now and not sooner, not before she had started to crack and thaw. Why Robin's first reaction to her, was establishing she wasn't Ladybug—at least not anymore—and his next was asking where Ladybug was. And why Damian was so surprised by it actually being her and not yet another fake Ladybug Akuma.

 After all, it wasn't as if Bunnyx warned her that her once-partner had been akumatised when she was sent to that timeline to fix it. Just that she had to fix it.

 And now more than ever, she desolately wished she knew what truly happened to that timeline after the cure had been cast.

 Frowning, Lady Blanc threw herself to her feet. Hawkmoth's whisperings crescendoed like rupturing and shivering ice and frostbite within her mind; rotting all that remains of her.

 It didn't matter. Not anymore, she was not Ladybug, nor had she been her in such a long while. And despite the languishing guilt, she made her final decision. “I don't want to die… I can't let him kill me.”

 Her final stand.

 A shiver ran down her spine and that was her only warning that her time was up.

 He had arrived.

 Heralded by the swooshing of the lift descending into the frozen grave.

———

 The seconds passed ever so slowly as the lift moved ever closer to the walkway platform. Lady Blanc held her breath and kept her eyes shut. Held herself still as ice. Held her desperately melting plan in fracturing hands and hoped with all the frangible will she could muster. No matter how her resolve continued to waver still, under Hawkmoth's strengthened sway it was gradually refreezing. Though slower still than the lift's descent. And so she readied her yo-yo.

 She never wanted him to follow her, not now, not to here. But he did, and here he was.

 It felt as though the lift opened far too quickly; the silence shattering like the rime cracking beneath his boots as he telegraphed his steps across the walkway.

 “Marinette…” Robin's voice rang out, echoing almost hauntingly as it bounced against the ice-slick walls and ceiling of the lair.

 Marinette, Marinette, Marinette. Whispered the lair in imitation, intertwining with Hawkmoth's malevolent laughter; lancing pain crackled through her mind at the sounds.

 Lady Blanc grit her teeth. Opening her eyes, she immediately glared at him with all the hatred and animosity she could wrest. “Lady Blanc.” She corrected, like an icicle to the heart.

 His footfalls ceased, leaving behind the hollow wraith of an echo. “Lady Blanc, then”—hesitating for but a moment, he cleared his throat—“I do not wish to fight you.”

 “And I'm supposed to believe that?” Incredulity laced her tone as she snarled out the words and bared her teeth. Unable to do anything else but watch him warily as Hawkmoth's unrelenting laughter putrefied and compounded—rattling through her skull like the mockery of a heartbeat.

 Robin stilled, though not quite as still as her nor the frozen statues of Chat Noir and what remained of Hawkmoth. It was poetic again; an ice-warped reflection of their last moments before he had attacked her unprompted.

 When he made no further reaction or response—in actions or words—she cocked her head to one side and re-evaluated him, eyes narrowing and snarl wilting—languishing—into a wry grimace.

 Lady Blanc deliberated for a moment, not quite hesitating—she then opened her mouth to speak, voice almost powder snow soft, as softly as she could be in this form—but despite that her voice still carried the sharpness of black ice. “Why are you here? Why now, why wait all this time only to investigate now?”

 He took another step forwards, as if taking that for a cue to approach and gently raised his hands in a show of being unarmed and following through with his intent. “You—Ladybug and Chat Noir never responded to the Justice League's calls after Paris became frozen over for beyond a week. Nor did you or anyone on your team respond further, after the League tried and failed to reconnoitre due to the impassable surrounding blizzard.”

 And if she hadn't known him as well as she did, she never would've noticed the strain and distress underlying his words. However, through her Hawkmoth knew as well and he made her well aware of the fact with his malicious gloating—it was obvious as to how very much so he was enjoying the negative emotions that Robin was feeling at this very moment.

 Lady Blanc tightened her grip on her yo-yo, refusing to show weakness by moving towards him or away from him. “Again, then why are you here now?”

 Taking yet another step forwards, Robin lowered his voice to that calming steady voice: the one that all heroes use when talking to victims. “We were recently given permission by a miraculous holder on your team to operate within Paris in regards to matters pertaining to the miraculous.”

 She snarled, Hawkmoth's fury amplifying her own. She had delayed long enough, and that was all the confirmation she needed to know Bunnyx had indeed decided to interfere. Swinging first, her yo-yo sliced through the stalemate between them.

 He raised his arm on instinct. Wrong move. Having seemingly forgotten this wasn't just another one of their spars. As the yo-yo lashed against it. Whipping around the armour and digging in tight.

 The white-outs of his mask widened almost comically. Before she wrenched on the wire. Sending him head over heels and crashing into the glass coffin of Emilie Agreste.

 Like the shattering of Hawkmoth's statued form so long ago now, the coffin burst into thousands of glittering deadly shards. Cascading down around Robin as they began to pierce into the kevlar armour.

 Hawkmoth's languishing howl roared within her mind like the white-out outside. Lady Blanc flinched for a moment that lasted an eternity of ice, ducking her head slightly and scrunching her face up in pain on instinct. Her grip on her yo-yo loosening for no longer than Robin's heartbeat.

 But it was enough. Enough for him to tear the wire from his arm guards and prise himself from the broken remains.

 A thin trail of blood trickled from a deep gash on Robin's cheek, just below where the eyemask's edge could have protected him. The white-outs were now down, and a determined glint in his eyes.

 The sight of crimson red dripping down and splattering on the iridescent glass and ice surrounding the coffin caused Lady Blanc to freeze.

 Hawkmoth's howling paused too, shifting like an avalanche into contemptuous delectation. That's it, he crooned in cloying praise, make him bleed for all he's ruined.

 She could almost feel the tender disquieting glazing of the butterfly silhouette upon her face. Though a quick glance at reflecting ice still showed only the cataclysm glow in her masked eyes.

 And yet, it was distraction enough for one of Robin's birdarangs to slash into her left ribs, carving deeply. The thin gaping wound spilt gushing snowflakes and ice crystals instead of blood, that splattered against the rime-encrusted walkway. Her miraculous suit only protected her so much in her akumatised form after all, and it wasn't as if she couldn't just reform once more—should she be defeated here and now, as inconvenient and painful as that would undoubtedly be.

 With the crack of the yo-yo wire, Lady Blanc retaliated. Aiming for Robin's throat in vengeance.

 He lurched into a roll. Diving away from the coffin and glass whilst launching a birdarang at the yo-yo.

 Crack.

 The two weapons collided midair. Clattering harmlessly to the ground in between them. Only for the yo-yo to melt into the snow. And ever dutifully, the rime reformed the weapon back into her hands.

 Robin cursed in Arabic, plucking his sword from his sheath.

 Two steps forwards, two steps back. The two moved in sync. For every swipe of her yo-yo, he parried with a single slice of his katana. A slash to his right leg. A dodge to the left. A stab to her collar. A simple flip backwards.

 Their blows quickly snowballing into a flurry, neither able to quite get an edge over the other.

 “Stop!” Robin begged—demanded, dodging another of her strikes with practised ease. “This isn't you! You're akumatised. Let us destroy your object so we can fix this!”

 Oh, but how much blood was on her hands and how many lives had she froze asunder? How could she live with herself even if it all was fixed and she forgot, all the pain and suffering undone?

 Scoffing, Lady Blanc shook her head as if to dispel the thoughts; dancing forward with another spin and slash of her yo-yo. “It's a little too late for that.”

 And with that, she wrenched upon the power her akumatised form granted her. Sharp icicle blades splintered and rose from the verglas pall across the walkway.

 Robin cursed again, more heavily this time as he began to frantically drop and dive and parry and slide. Forcing all his attention on avoiding getting skewered or pushed over the edge of the walkway railings, instead of solely on her.

 Strategically, Lady Blanc pulled back, letting the blades keep him occupied as she positioned herself between him and her glacial ribbon. It was a miracle he hadn't noticed it—or rather realised what it was—yet.

 He sent a languishing look towards her, weaving between the blades like snowmelt through the cracks in the ice. Fluid and graceful but swiftly running out of space to slip away.

 Turning her attention to the coffin behind her, she quickly analysed the damage. Despite everything, the corpse remained perfectly preserved and unharmed. Not even a single shard of glass had grazed the skin within.

 Hawkmoth's preening complacency at the sight, felt like the pricking of bare skin on hoar frost; sending blighting shivers down Lady Blanc's spine. It shouldn't have been enough to distract her.

 But it was enough. Enough for him to tear his way through the blades and throw himself at her back. Pinning her to the walkway in the clingiest hug learnt from his family that he could imitate. And gripping tight as she shattered.

 Your heart for power, Hawkmoth hissed.

 “No, no, no-no-no plea—!” But the sudden scalding pain of warmth wrenched a wretched scream from her throat. Agony flared across her back at the once comforting touch. The heat rending her apart in a fractal rupturing. All too acutely was she aware of the haunting SNAP-CRACKLE of her glacial ribbon fracturing with her. As everything she held back came crashing down around her. And oh so desperately, did she try to twist and prise herself from his burning grasp.

 “Let go, please! I don't—” She wailed despondently, words wobbling from the pain. “—want to—don't want to die…”

 “I'm sorry. This is the only way I can help you. Please, forgive me for hurting you.” Robin—Damian pleaded, clinging on tight, refusing to relinquish holding her in his arms despite the pain it was causing her. He couldn't. Even as her akumatised form began to languish, not melting this time: but thawing.

 As oddly enough, the warmth was enough to keep Hawkmoth's presence at bay for the first time since she became akumatised.

 She stilled again, the fight in her deliquescing as her body did. Frozen tears thawed into liquid tears as they spilled from her eyes. She trembled, choking on her own heart-wrenching sobs cascading from her lips.

 Yet despite that, the more Lady Blanc thawed, the worse it became. She—Marinette let out a chilling keening, half-melted fingers clasping at his neck as she feebly tried to return the hug in her final moments of clarity.

 Together, they held each other in their arms as her akumatised form languished away. Until all that was left was a hollow in Damian's chest where his heart lay, the snowmelt freezing him to the bone through his armour, and two inert plain black earrings on the ground before him.

 “I'm sorry.” He whispered in languishing repetition, to all that remained of her. “Please, forgive me.”

 She didn't reform.

 Damian waited.

 And waited.

 And waited.

 Still, she didn't reform.

 She was gone. She had to be.

———

 However, unbeknownst to him, the glacial ribbon had not fully shattered. Held together by the last crystals of ice clinging to the fraying threads of the original fabric.

 And further unbeknownst to him still, Marinette—Lady Blanc reformed imperfectly—still half-melted—from the ice and snow up at the top of the Eiffel Tower. It was the first place she could think of returning to that would be safe enough for her to untangle the frosty scalding flood of emotions tearing her apart at the seams. In the wake of her melting, all that was left of him were the snowmelt memories of him holding her, and a searing hollow emptiness where the connection to the storm had been boiled away by his warmth.

 Not even to mention how furthermore, that very same searing hollow emptiness was scalding her right where her miraculous had since been worn. Oddly enough, the lack of the earrings' weight felt heavier upon her ears.

 Yet again, it was almost poetic. That she had fled here to the tower in her panic after that tragedy of a confrontation. The place where the shattering had first begun.

 Gasping for shallow breath, she let the liquid tears fall like her languishing hopes as she collapsed to her knees. Dripping down her face almost in mimicry of how she had melted—was still partially melted—and carving grooves in her snow-formed skin from the tear-melt.

 It felt as though everything was conspiring against her, let alone both her body and mind thanks to whatever influence of Hawkmoth's Damian—Robin had ruptured.

 “How…” Marinette—Lady Blanc mumbled numbly, achingly so, “how did this go so horribly? I was supposed to—Why did I—Why didn't I—” choking on her words, she desperately hugged her arms around herself in a futile attempt to feel the warmth—any warmth—again. “Maybe I was right, earlier… maybe I really was doomed from the start?”

 But the only answer to her whispered words, was the silent absence of the blizzard no longer blanketing—shielding—Paris like a funerary pall.

 Hollowly, she noted that she'd need to move soon. Seek shelter not unlike how she had previously forced the surviving Parisians to do so. Because with no barrier between her and the outside world anymore, and the Bats already flocking the place. Not even to mention her miraculous forsaken from her. It would only be a matter of time until it was too late for her… for those fears of hers that she had mused upon only fleeting moments ago. Before she fell and shattered as though an icicle plummeting from the tower's railing and rupturing apart in a burst of rime upon colliding with the ground, regardless of how deep the snow drifts below were.

 The very thought only reigned to torment her further. Sobs wracking her frame, wrenched from her cracking throat as she wailed her languish, grief, and regret in a rending requiem.

 Her keening hung in the air, the tightened noose of the gallows throttling the silence until it fractured as she had.

 And though the blizzard may have melted from the sky, the silver clouds still swayed across the sky like the impatient blade of the guillotine—ready to bring the heavy blade down upon her neck in the name of justice. (As if he hadn't already silently threatened to be her executioner when he had held the katana to her frozen throat.) As if he hadn't followed through with it. As if he hadn't nearly succeeded…

 She couldn't return. Not anymore. Not to him.

 Marinette—Lady Blanc dropped her arms from around herself. “What do I do now?” She whispered to herself, staring at her hands as if they bore the answer.

 Wretchedly enough, she could hear a response in the susurration of the snow. There was only one answer left; haunting and rotting and all that remained. And though the blizzard no longer prevented those within Paris from escaping the freezing prison, Lady Blanc was still ice-bound to the donjon where her object stayed. She had no choice. No true final say.

 For the absence of any other option was deafening.

 And so, she held her head in her hands, and cried her heart apart.

———

 At some point, Damian lost track of the time, holding onto the snowmelt memory of her in his arms.

 A steadying hand grabbed onto his shivering shoulder, snapping him back to awareness.

 The first thing he noticed was the taste of iron and salt on his tongue, and the dried blood and tears on his face.

The second thing was that Black Bat and Red Hood were both now down on the walkway with him as well. Black Bat was further away than Red Hood though, investigating the broken glass coffin and corpse within.

 Red Hood, however, was squatting in front of him, helmet under one arm, his signature leather jacket missing and a look of concern engraved on his face. “You with us now?”

 Damian nodded stiffly. The faint rustle of leather against his neck gave him pause. He turned his head to look at his shoulder, only to see the missing jacket, as well as Black Bat's and Batman's capes, draped over him, though practically swaddled in the latter. The weight and warmth comforting in their familiarity. It was then, he noticed that his wet outer armour had been removed, leaving him in his dry thermal under armour.

 Red Hood pushed his hands against his thighs and stood up. “Good.”

 Humming, Black Bat sidled over to the two of them and nodded in agreement. “You gave us a scare.”

 “Yeah, when your comms and tracking beacon died and there was no response even after an hour once you went dark despite the weather clearing up outside, nearly gave B fucking heart attack.” Red Hood added, a false levity in his voice as he huffed. “Don't think I've ever seen him look that emotionally constipated.”

 Black Bat shook her head, a tenuous cheeky smile playing on her lips, then swiftly moved to boop Red Hood on the nose. “Not emotionally constipated, just scared,” then cocked her head to one side, the smile faltering slightly. “Like you.”

 “I wasn't scared for Robin.” He protested half-heartedly. Pausing to scan the repository again, he grimaced. “Especially not once we found you drenched and half frozen to death.”

 Before continuing, he took a slow breath, “fall through the ice into the water down there?” He tilted his head towards the edge of the walkway railings to indicate at the ice floe below, “or something?”

 “Or-somethin'…” Damian mumbled in languish, words slurring together slightly. He scrunched his nose up like Marinette used to, in order to show his displeasure.

 Black Bat frowned at him, her body language practically screaming concern and worry as she creased her eyebrows, curled her shoulders up and leaned towards him ever so slightly.

 Red Hood, on the other hand, narrowed his white-outs at him. “Right.” He said, tone practically dripping with suspicion and scepticism. “Well B's gone to grab you some hypothermia blankets and shit, so wanna share with the class what happened then?”

 Damian bristled, not even attempting to curb the slurring of his hiss. “Doess'it-matter?”

 “Yes,” Black Bat cut in, emphasising her words heavily so much so that they hung in the air—echoing lightly like windchimes in the ice-strewn room. Her gaze bore through the fabric encompassing him as he held her full attention. “Always, little brother.”

 Raising an eyebrow, Red Hood took a step back to give Robin more space. “Considering you look like you're gonna fucking keel over and join Chat Noir over there, yeah I agree with Black Bat and say it fucking matters.”

 At Chat Noir's name, Damian froze. He swallowed thickly and glanced up at the ice statue not far from his position on the floor, with the shattered but barely still intact ribbon in hand. Then he glanced down at the earrings—her earrings.

 “I found them…” He croaked, not taking his gaze from all that was left of her.

 “Chat Noir, and Ladybug, I can see that.” Red Hood muttered, voice softening considerably. “Did you manage to find the Akuma, the object, or Hawkmoth?”

 Damian scooped up her earrings with trembling hands. “No.” He corrected coldly, “The shattered statue isn't Ladybug.”

 Red Hood jerked back slightly, startled, then squinted at him. “What. Then what happened to her, where is she?”

 “Here…” Cradling her earrings in his hands, Damian finally looked up at Red Hood again with unshed tears shining in his slightly glazed over eyes.

 There was a pause as Red Hood stared at the earrings in Robin's hands and the surrounding puddle of snowmelt. “Shit, I'm sorry.” Stepping closer, Red Hood gently pulled him into a hug and tucked Robin's head under his chin.

 Black Bat quietly joined the hug as well, staunchly wrapping her arms around both Red Hood and Robin's shoulders. “It'll be okay, little brother. You have her miraculous…” She paused, tilting her head to one side as she tried to find the words she was looking for. “The cure. It can fix this.”

 “Sh-she was the Akuma…” Damian whispered, voice cracking in lament as he shivered. The cold kevlar of his siblings' armour was definitely not helping his situation despite the warmth of the hugs—and that very thought nearly set him off again. “She was weak to temperatures above freezing, from what I observed. Whenever we made contact, she would proceed to melt, causing her excruciating pain.”

 He shallowly swallowed a choking breath of frigid air. “I killed her.”

 Just before either Black Bat or Red Hood could respond, Batman swooped in (though not quite with the same effect as usual, due to the lack of the cape) from the lift with the cold weather emergency medical kit piled high in his arms. The pure anguished brooding demeanour laid bare across his furrowed face.

 Silence, barring the thundering strides of Batman approaching, permeated the air as the rest of his family grasped what Damian just admitted to.

 “B—” Red Hood started defensively, tensing and shifting his hug to more of a protective curl around Robin.

 Batman waved a hand—from beneath the armful of supplies—at Red Hood, grunted in acknowledgement and without missing a beat, deposited said medical supplies down a few paces from the hug. Close enough to be easily accessible but far enough away to still give the three some space. He then began meticulously sifting through the contents and pulling out what he deemed necessary.

 A foil hypothermia blanket was first, Batman immediately outstretched one hand to pass it to Red Hood. Followed swiftly by a travel mug, and a sealed medical-grade single-use plastic disposable drinking straw (for both sanitary and safety reasons).

 Black Bat temporarily extracted herself from the hug first, to allow Red Hood to grab the blanket and properly wrap it around Robin.

 In the meantime, Batman cracked open the travel mug and straw, bending the latter before plopping it in the mug. Causing the delicious aroma of hot chocolate with melted marshmallows to suffuse the air. Awkwardly, he shuffled closer to his children and slowly offered the drink by the bent straw to Robin so he could take a sip without needing to leave the hug or blankets. “Here you go, chum. Drink slowly, okay.”

 Damian nodded, hesitating before taking a small slow sip.

 By the time he was halfway through the drink, there was still no sign of Marinette having reformed, though strangely enough, the ribbon in Chat Noir's hand had begun refreezing over the cracks fracturing it, in the meantime. Despite the warmth of the drink filling him, it felt as though there was a cold dark pit in his stomach at the loss of her.

 Making sure to finish the hot chocolate in its entirety first, so as to not waste it or for any attempts at talking to be rebuffed by his family, Damian squinted at his father, choosing his next words carefully. “Are you… displeased with what I've done. I've killed her.”

 Batman stilled, closing his eyes for a second as he held his composure. “I know you have,” he began carefully, “and I won't lie that I'm unhappy about the situation that you ended up facing alone. I only wish one of us had been able to back you up sooner, so you wouldn't have this on your conscience.”

 Red Hood cleared his throat loudly, and glared at Batman from over Robin's head.

 Fidgeting under the glare, Batman continued. “But I could never be upset with you for protecting yourself in self-defence. Especially given what Ladybug has told us before in regards to Akumas and Akuma victims.”

 He paused, glancing towards Red Hood briefly. “And even if you hadn't killed her in self-defence, I would still regret that you had to fight someone you cared about alone. Regardless of the situation, you're my son, and I will always love you. Killing someone,” his gaze flickered up to Red Hood again, “doesn't change that fact.”

 “I—” Damian started, tears leaking through the corners of his mask. “Thank you, father.”

 Batman moved the empty hot chocolate mug off to one side and then leaned in, pulling Robin into a warm bear hug.

 Red Hood watched the exchange quietly, before glancing away, mouth twisted into a light frown.

 A long heartfelt moment passed before Batman released his Robin from the hug.

 Damian sniffled faux-haughtily, trying to smother the impending tears as he curled his shoulders up. “I suppose I should utilise the miraculous now, to bring her back.”

 Batman grimaced at the reminder of the magical artefacts afoot. “As long as you know how to safely use them, yes…”

 No sooner had the words left his mouth, the miraculous (still in Damian's hands) began to glow a bright bubbly pink.

 Damian's heart clenched at the sight of something that, he supposed should have been unsurprising, was so violently reminiscent of her.

 A bubble no larger than the diameter of an average rat or another small mammal perhaps, split off from the rest. It darted away, twirling through the air in front of Damian, not unlike something out of a children's fairy-themed show.

 The glowing bubble coalesced into a small red being that was vaguely evocative of a ladybird, if one squinted. And squinting, Damian was.

 “Hello!” It greeted with a cheerful sort of wariness and a strained smile. “I am Tikki, Kwami of Creation and the Ladybug Miraculous.”

 Black Bat pulled away from the group hug again. She grinned back with an equal edge of wariness—though somewhat tempered by her curiosity—and waved at the little thing, then dipped her head in a light nod. “Nice to meet you.”

 The other three Bats stared uncomprehendingly at the Kwami.

 “What the fuck…” Red Hood muttered, shaking his head slightly at the sight. “It's a fucking floating magic bug creature…”

 “It,” Damian hissed protectively, “just introduced herself with a name. Have some manners, Todd. Tikki and the other Kwamis, according to Ladybug, are divine spirit-like beings that grant her and the other Parisian heroes under her leadership, their powers.” He cleared his throat, and quietly and rather hastily added. “If it weren't for our current circumstances, it would otherwise be a pleasure to finally meet you.”

 The slight wariness faded from Tikki as her strained smile became even more so. “It's a pleasure to finally and formally meet you too, even under this situation. Though I must admit due to the nature of how us Kwami interact with the world, my knowledge of what has happened is unfortunately limited.”

 She glanced between the four vigilantes, and then towards the glass coffin, or more specifically the frozen statue of Chat Noir before it. Slowly taking in the full weight of the situation at the unmistakable signs of a powerful Akuma attack and her missing holder. Tikki's strained smile fell immediately as tears began to shimmer in her eyes. “Oh, Chat Noir…” She chewed her lip as she grimaced, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. Cautiously, as though afraid of the answer, Tikki looked to Damian, “and my holder…?”

 “Ladybug was Akumatised.” Damian answered her. “She has been… confronted and prevented from continuing what she was doing. If you could lend us your power so that we may reverse the damage done and return her to how she was before the akumatisation, it would be appreciated.”

 Before Tikki could respond, a chilling—wailing—wind sliced through the frozen repository.

 “No.” In a whirling flurry of snow, Lady Blanc (still donned in that same bleached mockery of the ice power-up suit despite the absence of the miraculous) fully reformed before the frozen form of Chat Noir. Ensuring that she had placed herself between the Bats and her akumatised object before they could even dare approach. Though she was no longer half-melted, the tear-melt grooves down her cheeks had only deepened. She swallowed thickly, shoulders trembling and hands gripping her yo-yo with the desperation of a lifeline. “I've warned you once before. I will not warn you again.” Glowering at them, she let the last of her power—that languishing frigid fury—drown her next words in haunting rime. “It is too late to fix what I have done.”

 “Marinette!” Tikki cried, darting towards her, “that's not true, the miraculous cure will work if you just let us use it on you! It's really not too late, I promise!”

 With the flick of Lady Blanc's wrist, the yo-yo swung towards Tikki, coming far too close for comfort to the distraught Kwami. Slicing through the air as it preceded an arc of blade-like icicles launching from the verglas-encrusted walkway, all of which were aiming not only at Tikki, but the Bats and Bird behind her too.

 Black Bat reacted first, in immediate response she flipped forwards and threw a volley of perfectly aimed Batarangs. Each Batarang struck a blade of ice, shattering them harmlessly between the living and statues.

 Neither Lady Blanc nor Black Bat moved as the ice cascaded onto the walkway with delicate clinks and chimes.

 Black Bat stared icily at Lady Blanc. “You will not harm them.”

 Holding his breath, Damian frantically attempted to scramble out of the blankets binding him and face her, himself.

 It was only thanks to Red Hood and Batman's trained reflexes and familiarity with wrangling him, that they were able to restrain him from doing so, seeing as he was still recovering and sorely lacking in the armour department. Though the prevention was not without a litany of swears muttered by Red Hood in the process.

 Lady Blanc eyed her two main threats: Black Bat and Tikki, ignoring Black Bat's words and the scuffle behind her. The others were less of a threat, as not only was the kerfuffle keeping them occupied but it was obvious they'd prioritise protecting Dami—Robin over targeting her object. Especially due to the fact he was surrounded by field medical supplies and unarmed— vulnerable. “The cure,” she snarled, taking one singular step forwards, “will not erase the experience, the memories of everything that has happened.”

 “That's not true…” Tikki repeated, quieter and more subdued this time. She hovered closer to Black Bat's right shoulder for safety. “You're akumatised, you won't remember once we purify your Akuma.”

 “But the survivors will.” Lady Blanc seethed, in wretched mourning. “And so will you. The cure won't fix the pain and suffering I've caused everyone. It won't erase the wrongs I've committed.” She paused, glancing between them all, eyes blazing like Chat-Blanc's cataclysms; just like her earlier reflection had shown. “But it will erase me. Permanently. There's a chance it could erase this entire timeline from existence. It's happened before.”

 “Before?” Black Bat asked, watching Lady Blanc with a careful curiosity and damning concern. Scrutinising her every expression and gesture for unspoken answers.

 “Besides,” Lady Blanc continued, pointedly ignoring Black Bat—gaze flickering passed her too quickly as she continued to glance between the rest— “even if you cast the cure, it won't undo the effects of my akumatisation… time will still have passed, people will still be traumatised, the damage will still have been done.”

 Faltering for but a second, she added on quietly enough that, had it not been the Bats as her audience, it wouldn't have otherwise been heard… “I will still be a villain once it all melts to nothingness.”

 “You're not a villain.” Batman calmly rebutted. “You didn't choose to become an Akuma, nothing you have done as an Akuma is your fault.”

 “Indeed!” Damian interjected, glaring at her in return, though the effect was dampened via the blanket, jacket, and capes still bundling him. “You were, and still are, under the effects of an emotionally manipulative villain. If you were to face judicial processes as other villains do, in a court of law, you would be excused under duress.”

 Red Hood snorted, muttering under his breath, “yeah, or excused under undue influence, y'know considering how you're reacting right now.”

 “I have slaughtered hundreds and thousands of innocents.” Lady Blanc hissed, stalagmites of ice surged from the verglas around her as her fury spiked. “Others have been declared villains for less.”

 Batman sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose and then raising both his hands as a gesture of peace. “Even if you are a villain, as you say you are. That doesn't mean you're beyond help. Contrary to popular belief, I don't dress up as a bat and beat up criminals because I think they're beyond help. If that were the case, I, Batman, would kill. But I don't. Because everyone deserves a second chance and the help needed to change.”

 “Would you give Hawkmoth a second chance? Or the Joker?” She scoffed.

 A moment of silence crackled through the frozen repository with all the grandeur of a guillotine's blade released.

 Red Hood death-glared at Lady Blanc, mouth twisted between utter bewilderment and the curl at the corner of his lips that betrayed the downright chilling wrath lurking beneath. His eyes almost seemed to glimmer green in the reflection of the ice. “Are you seriously fucking comparing yourself to the fucking Joker?”

 There was no response.

 Inhaling deeply, he then hissed through his teeth and gesticulated violently in tandem. “Did you not fucking listen to everything we just fucking said?”

 Lady Blanc stilled sharply, shoulders jerking back into a tense and more defensive position; teeth accidentally snapping down onto her tongue in the process. Snowmelt pooled in her mouth from the wounds, instead of blood. She swallowed thickly, grimacing as she glanced aside—unable to bear looking at any of them for any longer.

 “Further fucking more,” Red Hood continued, “you've only fucked Paris up. One city. That ain't shit compared to how many places those bastards have fucked up.”

 She flinched, thoughts spiralling back to her once-partner's akumatisation. Shaking her head stiffly, her eyes caught on the statue of Chat Noir once again. “You should have seen what preceded me. It could've been far worse...”

 “But what could have been, is not what is and has happened.” Damian cut in, cautiously. “Does that not speak of the person you are, regardless of your own akumatisation?”

 Her hands trembled—shivered, only slightly but just barely enough to be noticeable. Fingers curling and uncurling around the yo-yo like the staccato of her heartbeat. “No. You're wrong.”

 “Why? Why are we wrong?” He demanded, not unkindly but unrelenting in his determination. “You say you could have done worse, ergo you actively chose to limit the destruction you've unwillingly caused due to factors outside of your control.” Damian scrunched up his nose and tilted his head to one side. “Something which many Justice League members ought to aspire to when they're under the control or influence of outside forces. Therefore you have achieved something wherein even seasoned heroes and vigilantes, whom are known globally for frequently saving the world, could not.”

 Gritting her teeth, Lady Blanc swung her yo-yo out towards the four of them. Arcs of glacial blades lashed out in waves.

 Immediately, Black Bat, Red Hood, and Batman slipped into defensive stances in front of Damian. Blade by blade the ice shattered. Batarangs and bullets tearing through them.

 And in the chaos of the attack, Damian freed himself from the blanket and cape cocoon. Sprinting down the walkway, he dodge and weaved between both friendly and not-so-friendly fire—or more aptly, frost.

 “Robin!” Shouted Batman, noticing just a split second too late. His head turning to face his son and hand reaching out but unable to fully draw his attention away from the slashing of the reforming blades.

 Blade after blade, the arcing waves continued. Though every blade that sliced towards Damian, melted before it could dare hurt him. Step by step he approached unharmed. Icemelt puddles formed in his wake, swiftly refreezing into bitter black ice.

 Lady Blanc took a hesitant step back. The shivering was worsening now, as though she was affected by the cold, despite her akumatisation having granted her immunity to such a thing. “Don't.” She warned.

 “No, I will not give up on you.” He insisted as he kept making his way towards her. “I made a mistake in the manner of which way I approached and tried to save you earlier. And for that I am sorry but I promise to do better this time.”

 She scoffed wetly, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes once again. “I'm not the same as the person I was before. No amount of talking or powder snow promises will change that.”

 Lashing out with the yo-yo again, it barely skimmed by his neck. But its effects were instantaneous; his footsteps halting. If her aim had been true, it would have wrapped around his neck like a noose. Faltering at the realisation, she backed away closer to the shattered glass coffin.

 Yet another mirroring of their most recent fight.

 Accidentally, she bit the insides of her cheeks and once again, snowmelt flooded her mouth. She swallowed it thickly, throat constricting as if she had hung a noose around her own neck instead.

 Another stalemate had been reached.

 Back and forth.

 Stopping and starting.

 With every step forwards, a step taken back.

 A deadly dance, wherein all actions either party could make, were missteps.

 They were going in circles.

 Again, and again, and again.

 And it was obvious to all, that it could not be kept going for much longer. One side would have to give out, crack and melt, and languish away.

 Lady Blanc had been on the back foot since their arrival, no thanks in part to Bunnyx's machinations. Hissing through her teeth, she sighed. “It's rather telling, isn't it? How you all keep beating around the bush and going on about fixing this, saving me, and undoing everything! And yet not a single one of you has come up with a refute to what I've said. To the undeniable truth that the Miraculous Cure isn't as all-powerful with its "limitless"—” pausing, she made air quotes with her fingers without letting go of her yo-yo or the wire, “—healing as everyone seems to think it is capable of. It can't cure the time that has been lost, the painful memories made, the suffering endured.”

 The following silence from both Tikki and the Bats spoke a thousand words.

 “Why?” Lady Blanc's shoulders shook heavily as her breaths quickened in time with her rabbiting pulse. “Why can you still not understand, after everything I've said and done? Why can't you understand there is no salvaging what has been broken with my akumatisation? There's no undoing of what's been done unless Bunnyx herself goes back into the past to prevent the timeline from forming in the first place!”

 Tikki tsked. “Marinette, please. You don't have to repeat yourself. There's always a—”

“—Is there?” Lady Blanc cut her off icily, seething, chest heaving, teeth bared. “Is there really? Because so far all you've done is said that it can be and then not given any evidence!”

 Damian hummed inquisitively, narrowing his eyes at her. “Does it matter?”

 “Robin!” Reprimanded Batman.

 “Are you fucking kidding me?” Red Hood snarled, not a second later.

 “How can you say that?” Tikki asked, brows furrowed and mouth twisting as though biting into something sour.

 Black Bat, barring Lady Blanc, was the only one to not immediately react in outrage at his words. His sister merely frowned and began slinking around the edge of the walkway towards the akumatised ribbon, whilst the rest were distracted by him. Just in case they all failed to talk her down peacefully.

 In contrast, Lady Blanc's own reaction was one of suspicious bemusement. Though she made no attempt to move neither closer nor any further away, that didn't mean she wasn't still a threat.

 “Because why does it matter?” Damian lifted his chin up and took a step closer to Lady Blanc, challenging her. “What makes an akumatisation so vastly unique in comparison to say any other tragic mass villain attack?”

 He turned to stare at his father and brother, equally daring them to argue against him. “We have faced villains who have rewritten the universe before, villains who have caused mass extinction events that we fixed before, and we have helped victims who have been labelled villains due to various reasons beyond their control no matter the damage they may have caused.”

 Puffing out his chest like an indignant robin as he took yet another step closer again, Damian continued, not letting a word in edgeways. “Why should an Akuma be treated any differently to those similar situations? And despite the time lost, trauma and pain suffered, and the damage remaining, the world still turns. The survivors still live, and the days still pass. And most importantly, those who were victims, are given a chance to heal after the tragedy.”

 Lady Blanc stood frozen in place as she listened and contemplated, face etched in distress.

 Taking his chance, Damian drew further towards her still, until he was between her and the ribbon.

 “As you said, the miraculous cannot fix anything. But no one, not you, nor the survivors, can heal until we undo or mitigate as much of the damage as possible. A wound will not heal if what caused the wound has yet to be removed.” Slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal, Damian reached out to offer her his hand, nearly begging. “Please, will you let us help you heal?”

 With trembling hands, and a languishing resolve,  Lady Bl—Marinette—reached back. Wincing preemptively, she fragilely grasped his offer like a withering lifeline and clasped his hand in her own. A final sob tore from her throat when for the first time since becoming akumatised, the warmth did not hurt her.

 It didn't burn. She didn't melt. Nor thaw. Nor languish.

 But unbeknownst to Marinette, the ribbon did. The unyielding ice that had protected—sealed, guarded, trapped, imprisoned—it for so long finally thawed, leaving the Akuma inside vulnerable.

 Her knees buckled and it was only thanks to Damian's impeccable reflexes, that he was able to catch her before she could hit the ground. Causing the tension in the air to fracture and fade.

 “It's okay, you're safe now.” He assured her, as he held her in his arms. “It will be over soon.”

 Marinette shook her head, pressing her face into the crook of his neck, listening to the steady beat of his heart in one ear. “'M sorry, 'm sorry, 'm sorry, 'm sorry.” She gasped out in an avalanche, tears choking her words.

 He hugged her tighter in response, channelling how his family's hugs always made him feel—beloved and safe.

 Giving her a moment to recover herself, Damian soothingly rubbed her back in circles and gently asked. “Can we free you from your akumatisation, please?”

 Unable to immediately bring herself to words, Marinette nodded, cold tears trickling down her face and onto his shoulder.

 “Thank you, my beloved.” Damian responded, voice tinged by the hints of a warm smile as he stared at her in relief. Momentarily, he turned his head to nod at Black Bat and shifted his arm away from the hug just long enough to pass the Ladybug Miraculous over to her.

 He spared Marinette one more quick glance before returning his attention to his sister. Who, in a swift and elegant motion, tugged back her cowl and carefully fastened the earrings in place.

 Though Damian was soon distracted by tapping on his other shoulder in rapid succession: two short, two long, a pause, three short, three long, one short—one long—one short, one short—one long—one short, one long—one short—two long. A beat passed, and then the pattern repeated.

 “You don't need to apologise.” He muttered as gently as he could muster, turning his gaze back to her and continuing the soothing ministrations of rubbing her back. “Perhaps, you should focus on matching my breathing instead?”

 Marinette shook her head but ceased tapping nonetheless. Inhaling shakily, she tried to copy his breathing by the calming rise and fall of his chest. Soon, her cries softened, and her grief and fear melted—draining away like her will to fight had before. “Since when did you get so good at… this.”

 Sniffing haughtily, Damian hid his grin. “What are you talking about, I've always been excellent at comforting people.”

 “Yeah, only if we're calling animals people now.” Red Hood butted in.

 “That reminds me, Hood. From henceforth I shall be referring to all my pets as my "fur babies".” Damian replied.

 Marinette wheezed, not quite able to manage actually laughing yet.

 “Don't you dare! You used to agree with me on this!” Red Hood argued, staring at Damian aghast. “B, c'mon back me up here!”

 Sighing wearily, Batman shook his head, more focussed on gathering up the forgotten medical supplies, and re-equipping his own cape. “If Robin wants to do that, then so be it.”

 Red Hood's yelped in mock betrayal. “How could you!”

 “I shall name my next pet in your honour, father, in gratitude for your support,” Damian announced, nodding sagely. “And,” he continued dramatically, “a Furby in derision of Hood's lack thereof.”

 “See! Look at what you've done!” Red Hood hissed, throwing his hands up in exaggeration and turning around as if to leave. However, he moved only to grab his jacket and shrug it on instead.

 Marinette let the conversation lull before nudging Damian with her shoulder and staring at him quizzically. “You didn't actually answer my question?”

 He sighed, closing his eyes for a second. “After Paris remained frozen over for more than a day, I became very… worried for you. When the situation persisted beyond that first week and the Justice League failed to get in contact with you or any known heroes, yours or theirs, active in Paris at the time. Well, father put his foot down and convinced me to attend therapy.” He paused to take a deep breath. “It has helped significantly, suffice to say.”

 “I see,” she responded, voice pitching up on her next words in uncertainty, “that's good?”

 Damian nodded in agreement. “It is.”

 The conversation lulled to a stop again, as Black Bat and Tikki conversed softly in the background.

 Though Marinette still could not help the trembling gasp that escaped her, as she heard the words of the transformation echo in the repository. “Wait—”

 This was it.

 This would be her last moment before her memories would melt away as with how her akumatised form shall. Her last moment as Lady Blanc. As—

 She should do something. Anything. Before she loses it all and the timeline is prevented by Bunnyx, once again. No! She can't let this happen again, she can't let Hawkmoth win after this, after everything. “When you cast the cure…” Marinette started, words sticking to her tongue like ice, “Hawkmoth will—!”

 And yet, the indecision struck, paralysing her as though she were just another frozen statue in the repository. She struggled desperately to get the final warning out. “Don't let him—!”

 “We know,” He soothed, “we won't. It will be okay.” Damian promised, holding her carefully. “I promise you, cross my heart, Habib Albi.”

 Darkness rippled at the edges of her vision and distantly she watched as her icy suit began to boil and bubble that blackish-purple viscous magic of corruption. Desperately, she clawed through the lingering decision paralysis to pull away from Damian's shoulder.

 So that the last thing she saw, was the concerned but affectionate look in his eyes and the warmth of his smile, before being consumed by the bright purifying magic.

 A languishing wraith finally laid to clement rest.

———

 The first thing Marinette noticed, as the darkness and disorientation faded, was the familiar tingling of the Miraculous Cure having been cast. She froze, heart plummeting in her chest as she began to tremble.

 Quickly she took stock of her immediate awareness and blurry memories. One, she didn't remember casting the cure. Two, she wasn't transformed, she was in her civilian clothes. Three, her Miraculous was missing, her earrings were gone. Which can only mean, she couldn't have cast the cure. She had failed. And she can't remember what had happened—Oh, oh.

 The memories before the darkness sharpened in clarity, painfully so and Marinette nearly keened in distress as she connected the dots. She really did fail. Chat Noir and herself had confronted Hawkmoth in his lair and—

 —Her chest heaved as she gasped for breath, struggling to breathe with what little air her shallow breaths brought her.

 “You're okay, just breathe with me.” Damian's voice cut in, through the confusing fog of de-akumatising. Cradling her hands in his own. His hands were warm and gentle, grounding.

 Jerking her head in a shaky nod, she tried to match his breathing. Unsuccessful at first, but getting closer with each following breath.

 As she did so, Damian slowly and softly began to rub soothing circles on the back of her hands.

 Seconds passed like the gentle melting of unsettled snow overnight. And once her breathing finally evened out, she hesitatingly glanced up and towards where his voice had come from, to see him sitting in front of her on his knees. “What,” she paused to find her courage, “what happened? I remember Chat and I finally facing Hawkmoth. We had him cornered and then—”

 A sob tore from her throat as she spoke, cutting off her next words.

 Sighing deeply, Damian glanced away from her for but a brief moment as if to compose himself. “As you are most likely presuming, Hawkmoth akumatised you. We're not sure what was the inciting catalyst as you didn't announce it during our responding presence. Chat Noir does not appear to adequately remember what exactly occurred before your akumatisation either, nor was he conscious throughout any part of it.” He paused, tilting his head to gesture over his right shoulder and at Black Bat, who was lurking a few paces behind. “Before you worry, we dealt with Hawkmoth as soon as Black Bat cast the cure, all remains of what was affected by the akumatisation has been undone, healed.”

 “Oh…” Was all the response she could immediately muster, the numbness of the situation settling in like the first frost of a winter's morn.

 “Indeed,” he nodded, “if it brings you any comfort—”

 —Before Damian could continue, Red Hood cut him off with a lungful cheer from somewhere on the other side of the repository based on the faint echo—“AYY, CHAT NOIR KICKED HAWKFUCKER IN THE BALLS!”

 Which was unsurprisingly followed by Chat Noir making quite the strangled from-mild-embarrassment yelp. “I take back everything nice I've ever said about you, Hood!” Grousing, a slap echoed throughout the repository. From the sounds of it, he had either dramatically flung a hand over his face, or he had slapped Red Hood in the face; though it was most likely the former rather than the latter considering there was no further yelling. Sighing loudly, Chat Noir continued, voice growing more and more distanced as his footsteps faded away. “Let me,” pausing most certainly for the dramatics of it, “become one with the ice again and melt into oblivion so I never have to hear what you just yelled ever again. 'Kay, thanks, bye!”

 If the sudden patter of footsteps followed by the swoosh of the lift were anything to go by, he had truly just up and skedaddled away from Red Hood—perhaps he did actually slap him.

 Huffing lightly in laughter, Marinette cracked a small and hesitant smile up at Damian. “At least things are returning to normal then, right? Since they're both… they're not… y'know.”

 “About that,” Damian closed his eyes slowly and breathed in slowly, when he opened them again, his gaze was one of languishing guilt. “Habibti, you were akumatised for far longer than any previously known victim.”

 And oh, how for a moment she could hear her heartbeat pounding in her chest, like the echoing of an avalanche crashing down around her. Leaving her breathless in a wretched sort of deathless, with the whispers of snow-melt memories that had since rotted into nothingness. Intangible yet frangible as it slipped through her freezing cold fingers. A wraith of what she had become.

 “How long?” She asked, not quite begging—not quite reluctant either. Nevertheless, the words hung heavy in the air as though they were the executioner, readying the guillotine's blade over her neck.

 “Marinette,” he started, voice laden with an uneasy tinge of desperation. Biting his tongue, Damian grimaced and shook his head slightly, gaze flickering away from her to fixate on a point behind her. But still, he swallowed a breath of air thickly, and pulled out the calming hero voice. “My beloved, no one blames you. It was not your fault.”

 Pursing her lips, Marinette prised her hands out of his and curled them into fists upon her lap. Brooking no dispute, she repeated once more, words hanging heavier still. “How long?”

 Damian sighed, flicking his gaze back to her. “You were akumatised for four months before we could purify your Akuma. I'm sorry we couldn't reach you sooner.”

 “It's fine,” Marinette answered automatically, without hesitation, “you tried your best.” She licked at her lip quickly, before chewing at it. “But no, that confirms it.” Lightly shaking her head, she huffed near silently. “Not the longest Akuma then.”

 “What?” Damian cut in, brow creased and lips curling downwards in confusion and concern.

 Giggling humourlessly, Marinette shut her eyes and shook her head again—more forcefully this time—what remained of her earlier smile twisted into something hollow—a ghost shell. “Blanc was akumatised for over half a year.”

 At her laugh, Damian couldn't help but tense and lurch back. Mentally, he rattled through every known Akuma recorded on the Ladyblog or mentioned by Marinette or another Miraculous wielder, but all his answers came up blank. Cautiously, he reached his hand out and gently set it over one of hers. “Who is this Blank? There is no record of an Akuma by that name.”

 “No.” Sniffling slightly, she clasped at his hand like a lifeline, blinking her eyes open for but a second only to squeeze them shut once again as tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. “No, there wouldn't be. He's the one who preceded me, from before. But it's fine now, he's gone, and the cure fixed it, fixed him, freed him. It's fine. It's—” her breath hitched, “—fine.”

 Softly, he tsked, tenderly rubbing circles into the back of her hand once more. “But you're not fine.”

 “Please,” she whispered, heart breaking audibly like the cracking of ice, “don't. You know I can't afford to not be.”

 Damian was reminded violently of Lady Blanc, the ghost shell of her heart, and the words she spoke during their final confrontation—the slips of truth never elaborated upon, and forgotten memories stolen away by the purifying magic—he shook her hand gently to emphasise. “Not anymore, you do not have to. Hawkmoth has been apprehended—Red Hood and Chat Noir are transferring him to the local authorities as we speak—and his Miraculous has been confiscated, which is currently being overseen by Wonder Woman. You are safe now, beloved. You can rest.”

 A sob was wrenched from her throat, tears spilling down her face as she shook her head. “I'm Ladybug,” she scarcely breathed, trembling beneath the weight of the words, “I'll never be safe, not whilst I bear this burden alone.”

  Delicately, he pulled into yet another gentle hug, trying not to think of how easily he could almost hear Lady Blanc uttering the same in devastation.

 Making a small noise in his mouth, Damian lifted one hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “There is no need for you to be Ladybug at this moment, and regardless of whether you continue wielding the miraculous or remain under the mantle, you're not alone. You have myself always, and Chat Noir along with your other chosen Miraculous holders, both our families, Wonder Woman, and the rest of the Justice League. You need not continue to carry your burden alone, my dear.”

 “You make it sound,” Marinette paused to sniffle again, inhaling sharply, heart stuttering, “so easy, mon chou.” A heavy grief drenched her words, clinging like winter's final frost.

 “Because it is, Angel, I know it may not seem like it but it's true. Though it may take time for you to accept this, as I've said, I will be by your side always. If you need a helping hand, then I will lend mine to you. If you need protection, then any of us would happily offer to shield you. If you need a shoulder to cry on, then you have ours to lean upon. It will not be easy, regardless of your choice going forwards, but you will never be alone again, I promise.”

 A hundred heartbeats passed in silence as Marinette chewed her lips before she spoke again. “Is that a promise you can keep?”

 Damian huffed, reaching out to hold her hands once more, with a gentle shake for emphasis. “Not even my last dying breath could keep me from fulfilling this promise, I swear upon my life.”

 As he finished speaking, he placed her hands over where his heart lay in his chest. “I swear, Ya Hayati.”

 “I—” Marinette started with a whisper, she swallowed her words and her breath, feeling the beat of his heart in her hands. “—Okay. Okay, I trust you, Mon Cœur.”

 He nodded his head, still clutching her hand upon his chest as a small smile graced his face. “Thank you, my dear.”

 Then, he leaned towards her until their foreheads met, hers far cooler to the touch than his.

 It was Marinette's turn to huff, in faint amusement this time, her own equally small smile growing the longer they stayed like this.

 They held each other in that loose embrace for a few minutes, before Damian interrupted the sombre silence surrounding them. “What would you say to a kiss, my beloved?”

 “Oh? Well, that'd depend on the kind of kiss, wouldn't it, hmm?” She teased back softly, eyes twinkling in the low light of the lair. And though she tried to hide it, a sliver of sorrow still shone beneath that fragile lightness of relief held within.

 Damian moved to lean back, squinting at her with a furrowing brow and pursing lips. “If you do not—”

 “No!” Marinette cut in frenetically, eyes widening and squeezing at his hand to pull him back in close. “No! No, I do. I really do.” She chewed her lip and swallowed, gaze casting downwards for a moment. “Sorry, I'm still…”

 Exhaling slowly, Damian's eyelids fluttered closed. “You do not need to explain yourself to me, we have plenty of time for you to recover from this ordeal. As such, we can always kiss later, should you still be willing.”

 “No, no, no, it's okay, I promise. I would like one, I would like a kiss from you,” glancing back up to face him, a hint of nervousness to her voice. “That is, if you're still offering?”

 He inhaled just as slowly as before and blinked open his eyes to stare at her unrelentingly. “Are you certain?”

 Nodding, she squeezed his hand again, gently. “Yes.”

 “Then you are okay with me kissing you now? Upon the lips?” He questioned just as intently but no less softly.

“Absolutely.” Without hesitation, she uttered as she nodded once more, lips curling into a small soft smile.

 “Okay then.” He answered.

 Ever so slowly, Damian gradually leant in once more, giving ample time for her to interrupt or stop him if she desired.

 But she did not. She, instead, also leant in.

 And so hand in hand, cradled against Damian's heart still, their lips met. Ever so warmly did they tenderly kiss.

 After a few moments, they parted, leaning back from one another again, neither out of breath so much so as the kiss had come to its natural gentle end.

 Marinette's shoulders shuddered as she drew in a breath. Tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I love you.” She whispered under her breath.

 Damian, on the other hand, seemed just as unshakeable as usual. He frowned at her, “are you okay, beloved?”

 Wordlessly, she nodded once more, sniffling slightly as the pricking tears began to fall.

 Alarmed, Damian let go of her hand like it burnt, desperately hunting for a tissue or for something—anything—else that could help.

 Only to be interrupted yet again, as Marinette darted forwards, head falling into the crook of his neck, and arms wrapping around him in a tight hug. “Thank you.” She whispered, with a voice trembling just as much as her body. “I love you, Mon Cœur, so, so, so, so much.”

 He hesitated, frozen in position like a dreaded ice statue, before slowly wrapping his arms around her in return. “And I, you, Ya Hayati.”

 Damian rubbed soothing circles into her back. “When you're ready, the others are waiting for us outside in the courtyard of the Agreste manor.”

 Marinette sniffled. “I don't know if I can face everyone, not after this.”

 He faltered for a moment, hands stilling as he was sharply reminded of the near similar conversation they had had earlier, whilst she was still akumatised. “You may not remember but you implied something not dissimilar to that, as an Akuma.”

 “I did?” She asked, blinking back tears, an edge of morbid curiosity and dread in her voice.

 Humming in confirmation, he continued to try and soothe her. “You did. You didn't believe that you deserved to be de-akumatised—forgiven—for what you had done under Hawkmoth's influence. But you're not the first person we've cared for, who's been forced to hurt others because of the influence of another. The others won't hold it against you. Nor will your city. You've told me before, how the other heroes have all been akumatised before, Chat Noir and yourself included now.”

 He paused, both in breath and movement, to let his next words sink in. “No one will blame you, you tried your best and it worked out in the end. It's over, Hawkmoth has been defeated thanks to you.”

 Unable to hold back the tears of relief, she sobbed into his shoulder. “Thank you.”

 “Of course.” He answered gently, resuming the soothing motion.

 A good five minutes passed, of him cradling her in his arms, before her sobs and shaking faded to faint sniffles and drying tear tracks.

 Breathing in slowly, she squeezed her eyes shut and nodded in determination. “I'm ready.”

 “Are you certain?” Damian checked, leaning back and dropping his arms to his sides.

 She opened them again and looked him in the eyes. “Yes, I am, Mon Chou.”

 “Good.” Damian responded, already moving to stand, offering a hand up to her as he did. “Then let us go join the others.”

 Hand in hand, he lead her back across the walkway (they had fought upon it, how strange that it felt like a lifetime ago already), over to the lift.

 The walk from the lift's exit in Gabriel's study, to the courtyard was quiet and uneventful but it was comforting just to have Damian by her side. Waiting in the middle of said courtyard, was the unmistakable sight of the Batplane.

 With hesitant steps, Marinette let herself be led into the batplane's interior, a warm rush of air greeting her from the vents of the vehicle. And there, within, with gentle smiles of relief, stood them.

 Batman, at the emergency medical bed of the plane, pausing in the packing away of the medical kit and containment of used supplies to look up at her, relief etched into every wrinkle not hidden by the mask. He nodded at her firmly, and hummed in consolation before returning to his task.

 Nightwing, lounging across the pilot's seat improperly so that he was facing both his family and the console screen of the plane's controls, seemingly in the middle of contacting Oracle. He spun around in the seat, grinning dazzlingly at her, as he waved a hand. “Hey! Good to see you back!”

 Oracle, though not in person; her symbol on the console screen flashed brightly for a second. “Marinette! We've all missed you. Hopefully, you're feeling okay now?”

 Cass, stepping forwards from the shadows by the passenger seats on one side, and offered out her hand; in which the ribbon, that had been Marinette's akumatised object, and the ladybug Miraculous earrings lay. A requiem.

 Jason, smirking at Tim and Adrien from his seat next to her, turned his attention to her and cocked his head to one side, staring at her unperturbed. “You're looking a hell of a lot better than you were earlier. Good for you.”

 Tim, nursing a travel mug of coffee, smiled tiredly and waved at her with one hand for a second, then continued listening idly and patting Adrien on the shoulder in a sort of awkward half-hug of commiseration.

 Adrien, huddled on a seat, still clearly mortified from earlier apparently, as his face was in his hands until he heard her footsteps. His face pinched, a thousand words left unsaid as the weight of their heroics pinned him in place. “M'lady…” He grimaced though the corners of his lips twitched up into a little grin, tearing up slightly as he watched her. “I'm glad you're safe now.”

 Damian, behind her, took her hand and squeezed gently, offering a tender smile.

 If she hadn't already cried her heart out minutes ago, then undoubtedly she would have burst into tears once again, at the warm and welcoming sight.

 She was home, happy, safe, loved, and warm.

 And at the end of it all, she had been wrong; it was never doomed from the start.

———

| Thank you for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this long oneshot! Comments, Kudos, and Bookmarks are much appreciated! |

| If you want to try braving the shorter uwu-speak version, see the [UwU] and [OwO] links here, or at the beginning! You will not be compensated for any psychic damage taken due to reading that, however! |

| Feel free to send me any comments with any questions you have regarding this fic, I’ll be more than happy to answer! |

| However, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

| Lastly, if you want to create fic, or art, or podfic, or anything else based on this fic/au, or use it as inspo then feel free too, just as long as you tag me (if on Tumblr), or (if on Ao3) use Ao3's inspired by option, as I'd love to be able to see it! <3 |

| Once again, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading! And I hope you have a wonderful end to the year, and a happy new year! |

#Maribat #Daminette #Daminette December #ML x DC #DC x MLB #MLB x DC #Marinette x Damian #Damian x Marinette #Frigid They Froze Midst Heart Thawing Woes #FTFMHTW #Sham's Posts #Sham's Writing #Sham's Fics #Long Post

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Crash on the Couch AU

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/OAZlbFI

by ew_selfish_art

Now in their mid-twenties, Marinette returns home to their shared apartment to find Adrien cheating. Devastated, she immediately joins a mission in America for the Justice League.

Once the goons are all down, Robin, her long-time coworker (and even though he doesn't realize it yet, admirer) notices something off about Ladybug. He offers her a place to stay while she heals from her heartbreak, and his favor as a very kind Co-worker does not go without hijinks. Identity shenanigans ensue, healthy healing while also grieving the loss of the relationship, and conversations about the future. Feelings also occur between them but... Damian wants to be more than just a rebound.

Side plots include: Tim losing his mind over Damian coming into the office dressing fashionably in MDC and Jason is losing his mind trying to track down the random pixie woman who healed his pit madness.

TL:DR: Marinette crashes on Damian's couch while healing a broken heart. Mutual respect and appreciation thrive here. Sad for a second but gets happier as it goes.

Words: 6649, Chapters: 1/7, Language: English

Fandoms: Miraculous Ladybug, DCU, Batman - All Media Types

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Chloé Bourgeois, Alya Césaire, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir

Relationships: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Damian Wayne, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Damian Wayne

Additional Tags: Slow Burn, starts sad but i swear it ends happily, Damian Wayne Has a Heart, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Needs a Hug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Is a Mess, Started from the bottom now we're here, Friends help friends, no beta we die like jason todd, Daminette, MariBat

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/OAZlbFI

#IFTTT #bruce wayne #batman #the dark knight #the cape crusader #gotham #dc universe #ao3 #ao3feed

[queenz-z]

Daminette

Marinette: [Leaves her phone unlocked on the table]

Damian: [Reading a book]

Marinette: [Phone pings 276292 times]

Damian: [Checks phone and sees it’s from ‘hurt no comfort we read pure angst in this server’]

Hurt no comfort we read pure angst in this server

Newest message! +13

adrien dupain-cheng: i literally love marinette’s parents. you guys are jealous you don’t live here.

ni-NO- cook me up, bring me some macaroons from the bakery!!

adrien dupain-cheng- no.

ni-NO- ayo bro. i thought we had something special? what happened to bromance? 😔

al-YYES- sunshine, the dupain-chengs love me. they just tolerate you bc you’re white.

ni-NO- ALYA WTF!

adrien dupain-cheng- i-

al-YYES- i meant. they tolerate you bc you’re crayola peach?

ni-No- it’s not gonna get any better than that ig.

adrien dupain-cheng- where is marinette? ugh i’m so lonely

ni-NO- so we didn’t have anything special? 💔 i don’t know what to think anymore..

adrien dupain-cheng- no wait! i love youu. don’t leave me. you’re the boots to my cats! 🎧 🎶

al-YYES- ..

Damian: [Slowly places down phone and picks up his phone. He opens his phone and searches, ‘What does it mean when someone’s the boots to your cats?’

i swear i posted this, but i guess i didn’t lmao

Masterlist

#ao3 #maribat #reading #mlb x dc #miraculous ladybug #chat fic #kinda #more like marinette’s friends are strange lmao #daminette #damian x marinette #marinette x damian

[artxyra]

Damian Acting Like A Teenager? Impossible.

When Damian entered the halls of Gotham Academy, the first thing he notices was the change in the dark atmosphere. It felt oddly kinder and more lighthearted. Everywhere he turns, there are whispers focus around the new girl. At first, he didn’t care about the gossip, well, that was until he met her.

It was an unusual encounter, something that he would look down on.

It was the passing period, and she was running down the halls in a hurry as he was walking to his next class, one that he didn’t particularly care for; they bump into each other, causing a standstill in the halls. Everyone wondered how the dark prince would react to their newly dubbed princess of sunshine. They expected a yelling match, which, of course, occurred, but what they didn’t expect was an eventual best of the worst of alliance ever made.

Several months passed since the two had met and several weeks since the blooming of Damian and Marinette’s friendship, and not a single student could say that there weren’t surprised.

The moment Marinette had broken down any (and all) walls that the boy had placed, she was able to make the stoic teen become his age. It started small with a joke here and there; then it progressed into card games followed by video games. To this day, Damian swears that he’ll beat her at a shooting game at one point, to which Marinette would respond with a laugh and an over-the-shoulder wink. The young Wayne swears that he has never blush a day in his life, but the photographic proof on Marinette’s phone says otherwise.

The school soon became accustomed to being Daminette’s playground. At first, the teachers were opposed to the idea, but after seeing how slightly more open Damian has become, they slowly agreed to the concept of allowing the duo to have less strict rules. That and they didn't want to be sued by the Wayne family.

Which now brings us to this moment: Marinette swings on a swing set while Damian practices his form with a katana; don’t ask how he managed to get it past security-- cause there is no answer.

“You know, maybe we should do something wild?” Marinette thinks aloud, looking up to the sky with a mischief smirk on her lips.

Damian doesn’t turn to her; he only sets the blade down to his side. “What mayhem do you have in mind?”

Marinette giggles uncontrollably.

Let’s assume that whatever Marinette had in mind would rule the yearbooks for years to come.

~☾★☽~

Since his partnership with Marinette, Damian has been hiding his characteristic change at home. Surprisingly, it was simple. A few death threats here and there, maybe sneaking out moments every so often. No one at the Wayne cared enough to pay any attention to it. It only then became a shock when Damian left for school along the lines of being late. Alfred had offered to take him to school to which Damian declined and got onto his “normal” motorcycle and speeds off.

“Does anyone else seem to think that Damian is acting strange?” Dick asks, pipping his head down from the ceiling. He’s on the chandelier again. Poor Alfred, maybe Dick should dust the chandelier for him as an apology.

Tim walks in with a large, filled to the brim, coffee mug in hand, “Which one?” He absently wonders, taking a long sip. The dark circles and bags around his eyes explain it all.

“I do concur with Master Richard; the young master has been acting somewhat strange for quite some time now.” Alfred appears out of nowhere, thus starting an array of concerns.

It wasn’t long before Jason came in shouting demands with the head of the household trailing behind him. Alfred reprimands Jason for the yelling as he hands Bruce a cup of coffee.

Not caring enough about the conversation and looking like a madman, Jason shouts, “Look, I can’t explain it, but we’re going to need Demon Spawn for something huge.”

“Uh, why would we need Baby Bird?” Dick asks, dropping onto the floor and twisting his body. “Not that I don’t mind getting Damian involved.”

“Look, there’s no time to explain,” Jason facepalms and begins to push everyone towards the door despite the lack of proper wear they have on.

After several protests and one change of clothes, the Wayne household now stands in front of the gates of Gotham Academy.

“Is it me, or does this place look less you know Gotham-y and full of life?” Tim ponders, narrowing his eyes, as he takes a long sip from a to-go coffee cup with Red Robin’s emblem.

“No, no, Timmy, I see it too.” Dick whispers as Jason struts past the gates and onto the school’s property like a man on a mission.

Bruce sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Come on, let’s go get your brother so Jason can stop being Jason.”

Tim shrugs before passing the gates himself, with Dick following him.

Upon entering the school, they could immediately see that it was either a passing period or free time from the number of students in the halls. Some student dared to pull out their phones while other whispers amongst themselves.

Bruce makes his way to the attendance office, where the attendance assistant, Joyce, resides sitting at the desk.

“Hello Joyce, I’m here to pick up Damian. He has a, uh, dentist appointment this evening.” Bruce speaks, hoping that she wouldn’t catch the lie.

“Well Mr. Wayne, Damian is, uh…” After lingering in her thoughts, Joyce turns to someone besides her. “Do you know where Damian Wayne would be at today?”

“Try the art room.” A feminine voice answers, followed by a series of typing noises.

Joyce turns back to the Wayne family and smiles, “He should be in the art room; it’s down the hall to your right, you should not miss it, as it’s in the only hallway that has a series of artwork posted on the walls. Before you go, please sign here."

Joyce hands Bruce a sign-out sheet, to which the man signs and ushers his wards to search for his youngest.

“They’re so screwed.” The same feminine voice speaks, causing Joyce to break out laughing.

It took a total of four different locations for the men to find the youngest Wayne.

First, they went to the art room like Joyce’s co-worker told them to do.

When they got there, Damian wasn't there, but the teacher did show Bruce a couple of Damian's artworks. Bruce couldn't help but feel proud.

While looking around the room, one of the art students told them they last saw Damian playing Pokémon Go near the gym; he was trying to catch a legendary Pokémon that spawned there.

So, of course, after an awkward eye contact with one another, they walk to the gym. Once again, Damian wasn’t there but a different student in his stead. He tells them that Damian was making ice sculptures out of ice cream at the cafeteria. The student then goes on to explain that Damian had some wicked skills with a knife.

Jason, with wide eyes, practically shouted at the student that he was crazy and that Damian would never, and he means NEVER would do something that stupid. The student shrugs it off like it was an everyday occurrence. It was Dick that had to hold Jason back from thrashing the teen. Bruce then apologizes to the instructor for their disturbance, as Tim walks casually behind Dick carrying Jason.

By the time they got to the cafeteria, it was damn near empty aside from a few students still eating. There were no signs of ice cream or the tools that would go into making an ice sculpture. Tim had to ask a few students to see if Damian was in here at some point in time. One of the workers overheard the question and answered him. Evidently, Damian was there earlier making sculptures out of ice cream before handing it out to students.

When they asked the question that has been slowly driving the four insane, the worker replies with: “Upstairs racing on these old colorful scooter board down the halls."

After three locations and no Damian, Tim wanted nothing more but to have a mental breakdown, and he would have if it wasn’t for Bruce holding him up and taking his coffee away.

So, they quickly found themselves on the second level of the school. There was no sight of Damian Wayne, though there were wheel tracks smudged into the flooring.

“Are you kidding me?” Jason shouts out into the ceiling. Thankfully, there were no students in the halls to hear it. Well, that might have been the case if it wasn’t for a teacher to open their door and shh the male. It took every bone in Jason's body not to show the teacher his middle finger.

After a beat of silence and walking down the hall, they overhear a familiar voice.

“Angel, you are desperately in the wrong here. The bear only wears one color, so it has to the color red.” Jason stops dead in his tracks and turns to railings.

The voice was too good to be true.

Looking over the staircase, they find an alcove, and sitting in it is none other than Damian Wayne himself, but he’s not alone.

“I’m telling you, Wayne. Pooh’s favorite color is yellow.” The female answers before taping her fingers as she makes her points, “He loves honey, which is by default a yellow color. He's never seen with a yellow background, and if yellow didn't clash with his fur, he would definitely be wearing it.”

“I disagree. Winnie the Pooh has been drawn on numerous of occasions with red items, not yellow. Case in point, the red balloon, his shirt." He counters. The conversation continues with banters and statements; whether it was true or false is up to debate.

This was not happening.

Tim.exe has stopped working.

Jason.exe has stopped working.

Jaws dropped, a low groaning sound.

They cannot be witnessing this. The most deadliest of the Wayne’s is currently arguing about Winnie, the motherfucking, Pooh’s favorite color.

Bruce has no words. He's practically in the same stance as his middle children. Dick, on the other hand, pulls out his phone and begins to record what remains of the conversation.

No one dares to move or utter out words. This version of Damian is the apocalypse. Nothing in the world is okay.

Slowly, the four Waynes exit the school; no one saw them leave.

Legend has it that Damian never went home that day despite being excused from his classes. When he had returned home, his family didn't utter a word to him. He was meet with either a profusely blinking, unwanted hug or laughter, as they were still in shock at what they just encountered. It wasn’t until a couple of months later that all hell breaks loose. Damian had introduced the family to Marinette.

----

A retouch version of Request #2

#maribat #mlb x dc #ml x dc #artxyra one-shots #daminette

[icerosecrystal]

Daminette - How to Fail Being a Parent 101

(3rd Person POV)

Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The girl that went from having everything to nothing. At least, that’s what it felt like right now. She still had Jagged and Penny, supporting her. But her parents threw her out of the house after the believed Lila’s lies. The shiny new thing over their daughter! Her friends also thought of her as a bully. At the age of 17, Marinette had no friends and no family. But little did she know that everything was soon going to change for her.

(Edna Mode’s POV)

Enda Mode was a great designer. But, she wanted, no needed an apprentice to carry her legacy. When Jagged Stone, along with his assistant Penny and Clara, told her of their designer MDC, she was ecstatic. And her designs were beautiful. Yes, MDC had the right amount of talent to be Edna’s apprentice. All she had to was find her.

She was walking to the bakery in Paris, where Jagged said his niece would most likely be. She arrived at the bakery and opened the door walking inside. There were two people inside. She asked them, “Hello, darlings. Do you, by any chance, know where Marinette is?”

She watched as both of the people stiffened, and then the female replied, “No, we used to be her parents, but we no longer consider her a daughter!”

Edna was confused by that. As far as Jagged said, Marinette’s parents had a good relationship with her. So what changed? She then once more asked, “Do you where I might be able to find her, darlings?”

Marinette’s supposed mother grew angry, “Who cares where she is! And if you’re trying to find her. You must be one of the bad influences that Lila was talking about, so get out of our bakery!”

Edna huffed and turned on her heel, walking out of the bakery door. Once she was outside, she pulled out her phone and called Jagged. “Jagged, I tried to go to the bakery, but her parents said that they kicked her out. Or at least they implied it by saying that she was no longer their daughter.”

“What?! That’s so not rock-and-roll! Hmm, well, Marinette did buy a safe house. If I remember correctly, the address is nineteen dauphin bleu. Good luck, and let me know when you find her.”

“Sure sure, darling,” Edna replied before ending the phone call. She quickly went to the address in hopes of finding her.

(Marinette’s POV)

Marinette was not sulking! She swears she isn’t! She’s just sad that her parents didn’t believe her. And hadn’t been doing anything for the past two days other than eating and watching shitty rom-coms… Okay, maybe she was sulking. But could you blame her! Her parents believed a liar over her, plus she had shitty coping skills with Hawkmoth still around. Before Hawkmoth, she would have cried for hours on end while eating strawberry ice cream. Now, she couldn’t do that at risk of an akumatization, and she was Ladybug. Fuck Hawkmoth, fuck Lila, fuck her stupid hormones.

The doorbell then rang. Marinette dragged herself to the door, not stopping to look through the peek hole. She regretted that because once she opened the door, on the other side, she found THE EDNA MODE. Marinette jumped in surprise and started to try and fix her appearance while rambling, “Oh my god, you’re Edna Mode. I’m so sorry! I didn’t know it was going to be you at the door! Otherwise, I would have made myself more presentable! Oh my god, it’s you!!! Most consider you better than Audrey Bourgeois, Style Queen herself. It is such an honor.”

Edna cut off Marinette’s rambling with a hand to her shoulder, “Please, darling, the pleasure all mine. I’m so happy to meet the famous MDC that Jagged, Clara, and Penny have been telling me so much about.” At hearing those words, Marinette looked seconds from passing out.

Edna followed Marinette to the couch and told her, “Now, I went to your parent’s bakery, but they said that they were no longer your parents. So, I want you to tell Auntie Edna everything! Okay?”

Marinette nodded, still in shock. She quickly shook her head to clear her head and then went on to explain about Lila. “There was this girl that came to my school three years ago. She claimed that she had an amazing life. And it would have been believable if all the things that she mentioned weren’t false. For example, she said that Jagged Stone wrote a song for her when she saved his cat from an airport runway. Jagged never had a cat. Civilians aren’t allowed on airport runways. And she’s making Jagged look like a pedophile, she’s underage, and he’s an adult. If she continues claiming this, Jagged could go to jail. There are a lot more unbelievable claims that she makes. Anyways, I knew she was lying, so I tried to disprove her lies. But, she covered it up. I went to the bathroom to cool down. Lila then came inside and confronted me, saying that she would take all my friends away. I didn’t think she would do it, I mean, I had faith in my friends.” Marinette’s voice cracked, and she started sobbing.

Edna waited for Marinette to continue talking. Marinette inhaled sharply and then continued, “My friends believed her over me. They knew me so much longer. But they picked the shinier thing. They bullied me every day, and Lila told them that I was bullying her. She made them beat me up, steal, and destroy my stuff. I thought that my parents would at least support me, but no, the wish of them supporting me was too much to ask. My parents also believed Lila over their daughter. THEIR DAUGHTER!!! They raised me, loved me, and then they believe someone else over me. At first, they started neglecting me, but then Lila came over one day and told them that I had given her death threat. After that, they kicked me out. I didn’t tell anyone not to feel weak. Now, here I am.”

Marinette finished talking and cried, letting loose all of the tears she had been holding in, but she then stopped. Enda looked at Marinette and told her something that shocked the daylights out of her, “Just because your Ladybug, that doesn’t mean you can’t let loose your emotions. If you bag all of it up, you will be at a larger risk of an akumitization. But, if you let your emotions out little by little, you won’t be as subjected to an akumitization.”

Marinette started stammering out excuses, shocked that Edna had figured it out, “O-oh I’m not Ladybug, I-i’m too clumsy to be her. L-ladybug has to be someone a-amazing to do what she d-does.”

Before she could continue, Edna held up her hand, effectively shutting Marinette up. “Marinette, darling, you don’t have to lie to me. Only an idiot would not be able to figure out your Ladybug. You look so much like her. (I did watch the NY special. And they did say that the magic of the miraculous is interfering with finding the identity of the heroes. But let’s pretend that the magic isn’t interfering, and everyone is just clueless. Well, they are clueless, but more clueless if possible.) Anyways, the reason that I was seeking you out in the first place was that I wanted you to be my apprentice. Would you like that?”

Marinette nodded, unable to speak. It was like a dream come true to her. When she rejected Audrey’s offer for an internship, she still had a reason to stay in Paris. Now that she had nothing left, this was the perfect way for her to get a new start, to leave her old life behind. Plus, who in their right mind would turn down being the apprentice of Edna Mode. Not an intern, an apprentice.

Edna clapped her hands together after Marinette gave her consent for being an apprentice. “That’s great, darling. Go pack everything you need. We’re leaving tomorrow at 6:00 AM.”

Marinette nodded, “Where will we be living?”

“Gotham City, New Jersey.”

(Time skip of a year)

(Edna’s POV)

It had been a year since Edna had gone to France to seek out Marinette or MDC. Since then, they moved to Gotham City, and Marinette made a name for herself there. She was an incredibly talented and a hard worker. She worked well under pressure and took criticism well. A lot of times, Marinette’s designs would bypass even her own. It would surprise Edna, but she was proud of her little coccinelle. She wanted to adopt Marinette, but she first wanted Marinette’s approval. For all Edna knew, Marinette wouldn’t want to have a parent figure again after what happened with her parents. Even if Edna didn’t adopt Marinette, she wanted Marinette to be the heir to Mode companies.

Today, Edna was meeting up with Bruce Wayne. He wanted him and his sons to get some suits, so today was the fitting. Marinette was with another client today so, she wouldn’t be meeting them. She heard the doorbell rang. That must be them, she thought. She opened the gates for them to enter the premises. A minute later, they were knocking on the front door. She let them in. When Edna saw them, she huffed at the height of all of the Wayne boys.

She went up to Bruce and beckoned him to bend down. Once he did saw, she greeted him with a kiss to each cheek and exclaimed “, Darling, I’m so glad that could make it. It’s so nice to see you and the rest of your boys.”

Bruce cleared his throat, “It’s nice to see you too, Edna. So, are we just doing measurements today, or are you also going to give us a design for the suits?”

“Ah, Bruce dear,” Edna started, “Art takes time. Plus, my amazing new apprentice will be designing your suits.”

Dick and Jason started laughing. “Look Bruce,” Dick guffawed, “She’s pulling a Bruce.” Tim laughed along with the other two, while Damian looked to be seconds away from smiling.

Bruce sighed, rubbing his forehead, “I’m sorry about them, Edna. You would think that a grown 30-year-old man would have some respect. I swear he has the maturity of a five-year-old.”

Edna waved him off, “Ah, it’s no harm done, Bruce. Dick is also right. I fully plan to adopt my apprentice. I only need her approval before I do so. I mean, she did turn eighteen only recently.”

Bruce looked shocked at this revelation, as did his sons, who were joking, not thinking in the slightest that it could be true. The great Edna Mode had never taken in an apprentice in her life, nor would she ever think of adopting someone. It was so out of character for her. “What happened to the girl that you feel this way,” Bruce asked.

Edna sighed, “Other than being a brilliant designer, who designs could rival my own, my little coccinelle has had a hard life. There was a girl who lied about her. This girl made all of her friends bully and isolate her. The worst part was when my coccinelle’s parents believed the liar over their daughter. They threw her out. When I heard about her designing from Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale, I went to Paris to seek her out. When I went to her bakery, her parents were rude. I called and asked Jagged where she could be. He gave me her address. When I went there, she was a mess. I offered her the apprenticeship, she accepted. And a year later, here we are.”

The Wayne’s looked shocked at this. They then snapped out of it and, Edna then took their measurement and took note of any extra preferences they might have. She also asked what color they wanted for the suit jacket, shirt, and pants. Edna then asked whether they preferred a bow tie or a necktie. Finally, she asked what color they wanted the lining of their suits to be.

On their way out, Bruce asked Edna, “Would you and your apprentice like to come to the Wayne gala in return for making the suits in such short notice. Oh, and it is in two weeks.” Edna agreed and saw them out. Once they left, she sighed deeply. She then smiled to herself, thinking about Marinette’s reaction to the gala and having to design Wayne’s suits.

(Marinette’s POV)

Marinette was having a mental breakdown. WHY? Because Edna decided that having Marinette design Wayne’s suits was a good idea, as was going to Wayne Gala. So right now, Marinette was having a meltdown. And what was Edna doing? She was watching Marinette become a stuttering mess and trying to figure out how she was going to do something like this.

“Marinette, calm down! Just do your best and, you’ll figure the rest out,” Edna told her.

Marinette nodded and went to her room to start planning the designs and creating them. For almost two weeks, she worked tirelessly on end to complete the designs, and make a dress for herself. And by the day before the gala, Marinette had completed the suits. Alfred came to Edna’s manor to get them for the Waynes.

Once Alfred picked them up, Edna went to Marinette’s room and knocked. Once Marinette said to come in, Edna opened the door and walked in. Marinette looked at Edna, wondering why she was here. But, she then asked a question that Marinette so happy, “My little coccinelle, would you like it if I adopted you?”

Marinette couldn’t answer from happiness. Instead, she jumped on Edna with tears in her eyes and kept on chanting, “Yes, yes, yes!” They both sat like that until Marinette fell asleep, happy that they were now legally going to be family.

On the day of the Wayne gala, Marinette wore a burgundy dress with silver details on the upper part of the dress. She wore silver shoes that had a glass flower on the toes and a silver handbag. Marinette, also matching silver earrings and a necklace. She decided to let her hair loose into beautiful waves.

Edna wore a simple black dress with some white pearl details along with a black handbag with silver and black shoes.

They then left for the Wayne gala. Once they arrived at the Wayne gala, they spotted the Wayne’s wearing Marinette’s amazing designs.

Once the Waynes spotted Edna, they walked over in hopes of meeting her apprentice. Edna saw them coming and Marinette to them. “Boys, this is my apprentice Marinette Mode. Marinette, this is Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian.”

“Wait, so you legally adopted her?” Tim asked.

“Yes, I did, yesterday,” Edna replied.

Marinette smiled brightly at the Waynes and said, “It’s nice to meet you all. I hope that you like the suits that I made.” The Wayne’s gave their gratitude for the suits. They then all dispersed, except for Damian. He was still staring at Marinette, as Marinette was staring at him. They both started talking at the same time,

“Hi, it’s nice-”

“Hey, I rea-”

They both laughed, and Marinette said, “You go first.”

“I was going to tell you how fond I am of this suit. You did an acceptable job.”

“Thank you,” Marinette muttered, “I was going to say that it’s nice to meet you. So tell me about yourself.”

And the pair went on to talking about anything and everything together. Marinette couldn’t keep her eyes off of him. How his beautiful tan skin glistened in the light. How soft his dark, silky hair looked, and his eyes. Oh, his eyes were the best part, a perfect balance between jade and emerald green, giving it a shine, but not making it look toxic. He was so handsome. As she continues talking with him, she realized, she liked him, she wanted him to kiss her, hold her. But they had just met. Little did she know that Damian had similar thoughts running through his head.

(3rd person POV)

Damian thought that Marinette was absolutely beautiful with her silky raven hair. Her pink pouty lips along with her glistening bluebell eyes. Her fair skin was showered with little freckles that made her even prettier. Words could not describe how beautiful she was.

From an outside view, Marinette and Damian were looking like lovesick fools. Laughing, talking, never leaving each other’s side. By the end of the night, they separated with each other’s phone number, and a promise to meet again for a date.

(Time Skip of three months)

(Marinette POV)

It had been three months since the gala. The day after the gala, Damian took her to Gotham park for a nice picnic. On their second date, they went to the rooftop of one of Bruce’s buildings and watched the sunset from there. Their third date was the date where Damian asked Marinette if she would like to be his girlfriend. He took her to an expensive restaurant and after they walked on the pier. There he took out a necklace with a silver chain and “I love you for always and forever” written on it. The pendant was in the shape of a heart.  He gave it to her as he asked her to be his girlfriend. She jumped on him kissing him with so much force and passion and then pulled away, breathing out a, “Yes!”

Since then, they had been inseparable. Damian and Marinette told each other everything. Well, almost everything, she still hadn’t told Damian about being Ladybug. And Marinette knew he was also hiding something the way he would get bruises for no reason. She didn’t know what he was hiding until she stumbled across something when she was at the Manor one day.

She had gotten lost again. The Wayne Manor was huge. Marinette knew she was going to get lost, but she always had someone to help her. Marinette then heard some noises. She stumbled towards the noise. The sight that she was met with made her head throb. There in front of her were the occupants of the house. But not as the Wayes. No, they were there as the Bat-Family. The Waynes were the BAT FAMILY! Of course, she would end up falling in love with a vigilante.

Once they caught sight of her, all noises ceased. They didn’t do anything until Damian let out a feeble, “Beloved?”

Marinette turned her attention to Damian, “When were you going to tell me about this? And no, I am not mad. But you should have TOLD me. I shouldn’t have had to find out by myself.”

Damian sighed and told her, “I didn’t want to endanger your life.”

She snorted, “Yeah, like I don’t do that daily.”

“What?!” Everyone screamed at the implications that she was giving.

“Yup, I’m a hero from Paris. Tikki, Spots on!” She then transformed into Ladybug. Once Marinette transformed, she looked at the opened mouth vigilantes. “In Paris, my old partner and I protect the citizens from a guy named Hawkmoth, who preys off of people’s emotions to turn them into his minions, I’ve been fighting him for about four years now. I did send a message to the Justice League, but Green Lantern told me to stop prank calling. I’ve been fighting him by myself for two years because my old partner was harassing me.” She then went on to explain different akumitizations and went more in-depth about her powers.

“Spot off”, she said. She held her hand out and let Tikki sit in it, “This is my kwami Tikki, she is the one who lets me turn into Ladybug.” Everyone, surprisingly, took her reservations well.

By the end, Batman told her, “We would like to help you defeat Hawkmoth. We can start by uncovering who he is. We can do that by taking his voice and running it through some voice scanners until we find a match.” Marinette nodded, happy that they were getting somewhere.

She pulled up a video of Hawkmoth speaking while telling Batman, “By the way, Mom’s going to be here in ten minutes.”

They looked at her, bewildered, “What do you mean?”

She rolled her eyes and handed them her phone with the recording, “What I mean is that she knows that you are the Bat-Family. She figured it out like she figured out my identity.” They all nodded, dumbfounded that someone knew their identity.

Tim or Red Robin ran the voice through the scanners before they found a match. “Gabriel Agreste”, Marinette breathed, “I suspected him before, but he got akumatized. He must have akumatized himself to throw off suspicion.”

That’s when Edna arrived, “Did you figure out Hawkmoth’s identity”, Edna asked. Marinette nodded and pointed to the screen. Edna looked at it and scoffed, “Of course it’s Gabriel. I always knew he was a psychopath!” Marinette started laughing at Edna’s reaction and hugged her. Edna’s face softened, and she stroked Marinette’s hair lightly.

The bat family watched the scene with growing bewilderment. Damian cleared his throat, bringing the attention to him. “As much as I love to see how much my angel’s and Mode’s relationship is growing, we have more pressing matters. How are we going to catch Hawkmoth.”

Marinette thought about it before saying, “A distraction.” She turned to Edna, “Mom, you are going to set up a meeting with Gabriel and distract him. While you’re doing that, we’ll break into the house and go to his hideout. Actually”, she turned to Tim,“ Tim, could you look into the security cameras and see if there is any footage of him disappearing in some way. Or could you get a layout of the house?”

“Done and done,” Tim answered. They watched Gabriel push three specific buttons on Emile’s portrait, which Marinette took note of. They then saw him disappear underneath the ground. Tim pulled the layout of the house up. “This is the layout, based on it, we can conclude that he was going to the room beneath the house.”

Marinette nodded her head, “Okay, this is perfect. Once we sneak in there, we’ll look around, gather some evidence, and then sneak up on Gabriel and take the brooch from him.”

Everyone cheered and then left to do their own thing. Damian stopped Marinette from leaving. He pulled her to him and said in a sexy, gruff voice, “I’m glad that I know every part of you now.” He then dove for her lips, prompting a squeak from Marinette. After a few seconds, she relaxed in the kiss, pulling Damian closer by wrapping her arms around his neck. He put one hand around her waist, and the other one was in her sweet-smelling raven hair. The kiss felt amazing. His warm, soft lips against her luscious, sweet ones. Her lips tasted sweet like sugar, making Damian want to kiss her longer and harder. But, humans need to breathe. They pulled away panting heavily, faces flushed in passion. They stared into each other’s eyes for a little bit before kissing each other once more, this one being chaste rather than hot and heavy. They then let each other go and went to prepare for the demise of Hawkmoth.

The next day, they followed through with the plan. Edna first entered the house and talked loudly to Gabriel, demanding that he bring his son and Natalie to the meeting so that they can all catch up. Once the occupants of the Agreste household were out of the way, Ladybug and the Bats made their way to the picture of Emile. There they pressed the exact buttons and went underneath the house. There they found hundreds of white butterflies along with a horrifying sight. Emilie Agreste being preserved in a coffin and in what looked like to be a coma. Marinette was convinced that she could heal Emilie, went up to the coffin, and set to work. She closed her eyes and put her hands to the outside of the coffin. She then let her power flow through her body until they were at her hands. She then kept her glowing hands to the coffin until she heard a cough. She opened her eyes to find Emilie sitting up, looking around in shock, “Where’s my husband?” she asked, “Where’s Adrien?”

Marinette put her hand to Emile’s shoulder, “We’ll explain everything to you after ma'am. But, we first need to do something.” She walked over to the platform and rose herself to the upper floor, along with everyone else. She then saw Edna, Gabriel, Adrien, and Natalie already there. Everyone positioned themselves and got ready to attack. At the count of three, everyone moved. Marinette grabbed the brooch from Gabriel, Bruce grabbed the peacock brooch from Natalie, and Damian grabbed the ring from Adrien. The Agreste’s and Natalie turned to the heroes in anger, but then froze when they caught sight of Emilie.

Emilie, now understanding that her family must have done something bad, for these people to take away their miraculous, started sobbing. Marinette went up to her and comforted her while telling her everything that she missed. Edna called the police, while the Bat-Family made sure that not of the Agreste’s nor Natalie escaped.

(3rd person POV)

When the police arrived, they were surprised to find that designer Gabriel Agreste, his son, and his assistant were guilty of the terrorism in Paris. They were going to jail. Then, reporters arrived, broadcasting the defeat of Hawkmoth to the world, but then Gabriel said something that made some happy, while it froze the blood in many others, “Lila Rossi was also part of this! She was an accomplice to my schemes! Lila was trying to push Marinette Dupain-Cheng to an akumitization because I realized how powerful of an Akuma Marinette would become. So Lila went to great length to make her suffer, but then she left Paris, and I wasn’t able to akumatize her. If you should be arresting anyone else, it should be Lila Rossi!”

In her house, a liar was growing pale as the authorities banged on her door. When she didn’t open up, they kicked down the door and arrested her. Lila then let out a scream that the whole world would have heard.

When the government saw that two accomplices for Hawkmoth were in the same class from Francios Dupont Highschool, they had to school investigated. They investigated both the principal and Madame Bustier. They found out that both would take bribes and were enablers. They then investigated the students in Madame Bustier’s class. They found that the students were being sued which wasn’t that bad. But, they were being sued for slander, defamation, and more, by not only Edna Mode but also Bruce Wayne. The government looked at security cameras and found many forms of breaking and entering, abuse, bullying, and found many forms of slander online. All of the students along with the teacher and principal were going to have to serve jail time. But, it would be nowhere as long as Lila’s, Adrien’s, Natalie’s, or Gabriel’s jail time.

(Marinette POV)

Marinette was staying in the Grand Hotel when her ex-parents came knocking at her door. They were all smiles, “Marinette, now that we know that we actually raised you right, you can come home with us!”

Marinette just scowled back at them, “As much as I appreciate the offer, you aren’t my guardians anymore. Edna Mode adopted me and I am legally Marinette Mode. Have a good day!” She then slammed the door shut in their faces. She leaned her head against the door and sighed deeply.

She felt a pair of arms wrap around her and kiss her neck gently, “You going to be okay?”

Marinette turned around and smiled at him, “Yeah, I am.”

Five hours later, when Marinette turned on the news, it showed Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng going to jail. They were charged for child neglecting and abuse. Marinette shook her head, chuckling, knowing that it was Damian who did this. She inhaled deeply, oh well, all’s well that ends well.

(Time Skip of 15 years)

A thirty-three-year-old Marinette put the baby in her hands down in the crib. After everything that happened in Paris, Damian and Marinette had continued dating. Damian proposed on their one-year anniversary and the got married a year later. They now had an 11-year-old daughter named Amira Beth Wayne, a 6-year-old boy Grayson Abbas Wayne, and 1-year-old Sadiya Cathy Wayne. Marinette was now the CEO of Mode Companies, while Damian ran Wayne Enterprises along with Tim as Co-CEOs. As Marinette looked at her children she couldn’t believe that she managed to have such a good life. She felt Damian behind her so she leaned back into him. He kissed the back her head and whispered huskily in her ear, “I love you and I promise that I and the kids will be by your side. Forever and always.”

Marinette snuggled into Damian and squeezed his hand whispering, “Forever and always.”

#mlb x dc #maribat #miraculous ladybug #batman #damianette #daminette #damian x marinette #marinette x damian #damian wayne #marinette dupain cheng #edna mode #the incredibles #batfamily #sabine and tom salt #salt #lila salt #alya salt #adrien salt #marinette deserves better #marinette gets adopted

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

Treasure Hunter AU

I binged watch the Mummy trilogy while i had no wifi/internet for a while and I had an idea for a treasure hunter Mari with Daminette.

--------

Damian was bored.(age: 22-28 years old.)

At a gala party.

Meets Marinette who was equally bored.(abt the same age as D)

He finds out she was the finder of this famous artifact on display.

-----

Damian tugged at his collar, scanning the crowd. His father needed a plus one to show up with and everyone else were busy.

He grabbed a champagne flute and made his way to the edge of the room.

He found a woman in a black evening gown, looking as bored as he felt. short dark hair. Blue eyes.( I suck at describing people after the third time doing it. It feels overrated)

"Hello, stranger. You bored with mingling in with the assholes on their high horses?"

"Should I be offended?"

"We will see. Depends on you."

"How about you? A beautiful lady like you not kissing up their asses to climb the social ladder. That is strange."

She made a face. "Trust me. I don't want to be here but my friend wanted family time so I came in his place. What about you? Why are you here?"

"I am pretty sure my father wanted someone to get him out if the vultures came too close."

"Vultures, adept descriptions. I am glad no one realized who I am yet or i would be in their claws."

"Who are you representing, anyways?"

"Myself but Adrien or Kagami usually comes in my place but tonight, they have their son's play to go to."

"Adrien and Kagami. Aren't they the Agreste-Tsrungi?"

"Yep."

"You are the Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Globe trotting Treasure hunter and also world-class designer, MDC."

"Now you know. What's your name, handsome stranger?"

"You don't know?"

"Hey. Like you said globetrotting treasure hunter. I am not up-to-date on the news front. And when I am in Paris to do designer stuff, i am too busy to look at the news."

He gave her his hand, "Damian Wayne. Son of Bruce Wayne who is a billionaire and owns Wayne Enterprise."

She shook it.

"Pleased to meet you."

She stills design but like sent her designs to Adrien at least once every month, who had rebranded Gabriel to Miraculous Designs.

Some ppl thinks he did it to spite his father, who is in jail. Adrien and Mari has a partnership thing.

Mari also makes clothes but for a few months. And the rest of the time is spent travelling.

Exclusive designs from MDC are rare but the designs hand made by her are rarer so they are like a really big deal. They have the most amazing details. Really expensive and limited edition.

The rest of the time Mari spends finding Miraculouses (Miraculi ?) lost in the world so if she happens to find a few priceless artifacts that aren't the Miraculous. She donates it.

Alix helps and sometimes go find them with her.

She has Tikki and Plagg and maybe Wyazz all the time to look for curses and counter it.

She has also met John Constantine. They have an arrangement of sorts. A few magical artifacts that doesn't have to Miraculous business are given to him in exchange for any miraculous stuff he has or found.

Adrien funds her trips.

He is married to Kagami.

Kagami goes with Mari and Alix for a few months sometimes. Adrien likes being a stay at home dad.

Their kid is named Marin/Martin because it was Mari who got them together.

The few trips Mari dragged him on was enough to make him stay behind and run the business.

(Back to the story) Damian fangirled a little because Mari had been doing stuff like this since she was 18.

It was an amazing reputation she has.

She invites him to her next trip after questioning his skill sets.

------

"Are you good with heights, dark scary places and adventuring into the unknown?"

"Yes"

"You any good with guns, swords, knives, booby traps and keeping calm under pressure?"

"Yes. I have many experiences with them."

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Yes. Why are you asking me this?"

"Wanna join me on my next trip to the jungle of China? There are myths about some hidden temple."

------

Damian was a little conflicted.

He hadn't have the chance to explore the world much. He had been somewhere else for a mission (for the League of Shadows or JL business) but never for pleasure.

Being a vigilante by night and working at Wayne Enterprise by day gets a little boring after some years.

His brothers had a chance to travel the world on their own for a while. Sure, for reasons other than sight-seeing and looking for something to break out of the rut he was in. But still.

This was an exciting opportunity but a tad suspicious.

-----

"Why me?"

She looked surprised at that.

"Oh. Well, my friends enjoy coming with me on my adventures, treasure hunting and all that every now and then except Adrien but they have other things in their life to come with me all the time. I can mostly survive on my own most of the time but it gets lonely travelling on my own and it's nice if someone is there to watch my back. I understand if you don't want to come. It's just that I enjoy your company and you aren't like those assholes on their high horses. My gut feeling says I can trust you. You are not after the treasure or see it as one big game. You are looking for an escape. You would definitely catch me if I fall. As you know from my choice of friends, i have a bad habit of pulling rich kids from their stuffy lifestyle and take them on potentially life-threatening adventures." She joked. Then she lowered her voice, "Besides, it might be handy having a former assassin around."

She said in Arabic.

His hand went to his hidden knife and found it not there.

"Looking for this?" She said, holding it.

"How much do you know?" He hissed back in the same language.

"Relax," she gave back the knife, "my mother was one and I have accidentally came across a few in my adventures. I know one when i see one. I took a stab in the dark with your middle-eastern background. Speaking of, you know Talia Al Ghul by any chance."

He narrowed his eyes.

"She's my mother. Why?"

"You look like her. Met her a few times. Nice lady but scary. Mine's Sabine Cheng, goes by the Blue Reaper." She said it so casually like their parents weren't dangerous deadly assassins and had normal jobs.

"You aren't normal, are you?"

"What gave it away?"

"That you willingly gave away blackmail material to me."

"Normal people don't have assassins for mothers. And you and me aren't exactly meeting the minimum standards for normal. Besides, I just told you a family secret that you would have found out anyways with a through background search and a little digging. So far all I know about you is that your parents are Talia Al Ghul and Bruce Wayne-I wonder how an assassin got together with a billionaire-, you are a former League of Shadows assassin, you are great with weapons, keeping secrets and so far meeting the criteria for an adventure buddy. That's all I swear. And that you have some pets. A cat, maybe."

"How you know about my cat?!"

"Cat hair on your clothes." She was good. "If it will ease your mind about me, you can ask me 5 questions that I will truthfully answer. "

"So why are you doing this?"

"That's question 1. Well, I really want whatever this is between us to work. Partners, Friends, Companions, Comrades. Whatever you want to call it. Like I said, I get lonely sometimes and need some human interaction to at least keep myself sane. You looked like you want to be somewhere else and I thought this is perfect. I am not going to tell anyone about you or push you to join me. I swear on my mother's sword."

"Are we killing anybody?"

"Mostly I try to avoid that as much as possible. Sometimes I get into situations with no other alternative. " She looked away guiltily.

"Fair enough."

"Not judging me for that. That's a first for me."

"I am a former assassin and have killed before. I have no right to condemn you for your past."

"How much are you willing to tell me about this hidden temple?"

"That has to do with a secret. I would tell you more when there are less ears around. But this temple was said to hold a magic jewel that grants some powers and it is located really deep in the jungle. Getting there might take months."

"You forgot to mention that last one."

"Oh yeah. You think you can get away for some months. This kind of stuff usually takes a while. Like I said before, no pressure. Anyway, 2 questions left."

"What's my salary?"

"Aren't you a billionaire?"

"My father is. I have a trust fund and I get a salary for doing my job at the company. You are lucky that I just finished with most of my assigned projects so I might be able to come."

"I am so sorry about just assuming things about you. You can say no to the offer. The temple is said to hold some other treasures but I mainly want the jewel. We could auction off a few bits and pieces. I usually just donate them to museums and universities or sell them to those who really appreciate the history. I would also pay for the entire expenses for the trip."

"Can I think about this?"

"Sure. Here's my number. I leave on the 1st of next month. Gimme an answer a week before that so I can make the proper arrangements. It has been fun talking to you, Damian."

She walked away, going towards the buffet table.

------

Back in the car on the way home to the manor.

Bruce asked, "Who were you talking to for that long?"

"Who?"

"The one that gave you her number."

"Oh. MDC. She invited me to join her in China next month to find some hidden temple."

"She did?"

"Yes. Not only that she found out about mother and know what I did before I came here. She doesn't know about Batman, Robin or Crow. And she said she wasn't going to blackmail me but just wanted a companion to go with her. Ideally, it would be best to silence her before she digs any further into me but I trust her. I sincerely believe that she meant it when she said that she's not going to tell on me. And I am really tempted to take up on it."

"What do you want to do?"

"On one hand, i would be gone for months so there won't be Crow in Gotham for a while and I have a few projects I need to finish up. On the other hand. Father, I have been a vigilante for over 10 years now and I haven't really done much out besides that, school and now work. I have appreciated all you have done for me over the years. But I want to go with her. Do something that is not connected to Batman or Wayne or Al Ghul. Just a little something different for myself."

"You can go if you want. I am not going to stop you. I will make arrangements so the projects would be done by someone else. The others can cover your patrols. You are still young so it is understandable to want some fun every now and then."

"Thank you, Father."

Bruce put his hand on his shoulder.

"I am proud of you as Crow and as Damian Wayne. But if you want to go find some hidden temple in China just for a break from this life, to be just Damian, go for it. There are worse things you could do. Just tell me if you are going to go on any future trips like that." (I don't know DC much, sorry if that is a little OOC but I like good dad! Bruce.)

-------

Damian dialed the number on the card.

"Hello"

"I accept your offer, miss MDC."

"Damian? Right, text me your email address. I will sent you things you would need to pack and flight details. And can you come by to the Gotham Rose Hotel tomorrow? I will give more details on the temple."

-------

Damian comes by the hotel.

Marinette tells him of the kwamis and miraculous and makes him swear to not tell anyone unless they already know.

The hidden temple actually might have a miraculous.

Damian gets a little interested in the akuma situation she mentioned.

Mari doesn't say anything about it much.

When he got back, he goes to the Bat-computer and did some digging.

Ladybug looks a little familiar. Pulls up younger picture of Mari and look at that, she used to be a superhero.

Wonder Woman was kept informed of things and made sure no one goes to Paris without her knowing.

Zatanna helped capture the villain Hawkmoth and end his 2 year reign.

Fast forward, they are in Beijing now, sleeping off jetlag.

The next morning, They get out of the city somehow to the city limits and somewhere remote.

Mari uses Kalki and transports them to the jungle.

They set up camp. Cue Campfire stories.

-----

"I thought getting here would take months."

"No actually, finding the temple would. According to my research and the map I copied through less than legal means, it is somewhere in this general area. There used to a city around here too and the king or emperor pissed off some powerful priest or wizard, take your pick. There was a curse. The city crumbled down and the temple is the only thing standing because the king went there and prayed to the gods for protection. The one who answered his prayers and protected the temple in doing so the king was pressed into service of the god. The king did everything the god said for a while but later, he started to hate it and began disobeying the orders. The god cursed him for his disobedience. The temple he was protected in became his tomb and he was tasked to protect the chest inside the temple for the rest of eternity. Anyone who opens the chest would gain the ultimate power to rule the earth. Thankfully, we are not after the chest. Some powerful crack-head with a misused miraculous tried to find it and open the chest for more power. But he never returned. My theory is that the miraculous is still in the temple. As long as we don't wake up the king or go for the chest, we would be okay."

"What are the guns for? And How did you get them past security?"

"In case of emergencies, an army of undead was mentioned and guns are surprisingly good repellent. Well, most of the time. It's useless if there is a no weapons can kill 'it' rule. Then, it's just a stress reliever. I kept them in a pocket dimension. Makes it easier to get around."

Damian vowed to never let Marinette meet Jason. Judging by the pile of guns and occasional knives and other weapons she took out of the brown satchel which apparently holds a pocket dimension, Jason would adopt her. He wondered if that was all that was inside in.

-------

They packed up and started searching the jungle for hidden temple.

It was a month and a half before they found it.

They bonded a lot during that time.

They had a moment after drinking a little alcohol which Mari has in the pocket dimension. Or Drank a lot of alcohol and had sex.

It was awkward and they both agree to not talk about it again.

Soon after, they found the temple. But it is still a little far away.

But the temple is not the only thing they found. They also found a campsite with many people milling around. Some of them carried guns.

Somewhat rich bastard who overheard their conversation at the gala. Heard treasure and found out where Mari's next expedition is.

Had the help of some scholar who wants to be famous for the greatest find since King Tut.

They found the temple even though they had no magical help, they left 2 weeks before Mari did, so yeah.

Rich Bastard's name is 'Philip Anderson'(This sounds familiar to me for some reason and I can't find out why.) and Scholar is 'Harry Scott'

They have armed bodyguards and some 'hired' help to get the treasure.

Anderson is still rich but his company had been getting losses the past 2 years and this is a quick, easy get rich scheme.

Mari and Damian: "Rich asshole on his high horse."

Anderson doesn't know about the chest but Mari and Damian thinks he does and it was what he was after.

They set up camp a little further ahead of Anderson's

Unfortunately, they were found by Harry. Somehow.

-----

I am going to continue this when I am more awake.

#damian x marinette #daminette #maribat #mlb x dc #treasurehunter! Mari #explorer!Mari #there isn't much of this

[its-karma-bitches-00]

ENDGAME

Chapter 4: Back to you.

Description: So... I know many Daminette fans don't like Damian being younger than Marinette so 🚨SPoiler AleRT 🚨 Damian is gonna be younger for a while but an event happens that gets their ages exchanged. (Sort of)

Warning; swearing, angst, fluff.

Summary: Where the world reunites with their loved ones..

Previously

"They're back!, They're back!, They're back!" Maps yelled excitedly, almost jumping at him

"Who's back?!"

"The people who disappeared 5 years ago!"

Damian blinked at the short girl in front of him before narrowing his eyes at her "this is no time to play games Mizoguchi."

"I'm not!" Mia huffed "ask anyone else."

Damian looked at her and he knew she wasn't lying, he gave her a small nod before heading back towards the washrooms.

"Wait!" Mia yelled, holding his wrist "Can you drop me to Olive house?"

"No." Damian deadpanned

"Can I at least have your grapple gun?"

"No" Damian sighed "Sorry Maps, I've gotta go"

Mia nodded "fine. you owe me a waffle bar!"

Damian rolled his eyes at her before running back, wasting no time. "Plagg! Claws out!"

"Aw come on!" Plagg hissed, before disappearing into the ring.

***

Damian ran across roof tops, he felt sick. Where they really there? how did they disappear? What if he went home and found out nobody was actually there? what was he going to to say? So many Questions jumped around his head, but he kept moving either way. He jumped over the large compound of his house calling out "Plagg claws in!" His black and green suit dissolved and was replaced with his uniform. He landed on the soft grass smoothly Before running around large fountain in front of his destination.

Damian panted, looking around. Jason's new bike was spread on the ground carelessly, and the car was literally half-hazardously parked.

He ran towards the large doors shoving it open...

to meet his family laughing and crying in Joy.

They were here. They were all here. Dick, Cass, Steph, Alfred, Selina, Kate, Chloe and Marinette.

Damian could only stare, They looked like they never aged a day, except Alfred who seemed to look younger.

"Damian?" Dick asked, a shocked look on his face which quickly dissolved into a bright smile "Oh my god you look so big!" He yelled, tackling him to the ground "Did you miss me?"

"TT, of course not."

"Liar" Tim laughed with tear stained cheeks "he cried everyday for two years."

"I didn't!" Damian hissed, still in the embrace of his older brother. "Uh-huh, sure." Bruce smiled his arms around Selina

"Father!"

"Wait, wait, wait." Chloe interrupted "what do you mean two years? We've just been gone for like, five minutes"

"Yeah! What's with that?" Steph asked in confusion

"You guys have been Gone for 5 years" Tikki said slowly while the others were nodding in agreement

"That's impossible, I was definitely there for 15 hours"

"It felt like five minutes for me" Chloe said as Cass nodded

"You guys sure you didn't hit your heads on your way back?" Jason joked

"Do you remember where you guys were?" Bruce asked

"Yes" Marinette nodded "It was-It was beautiful, it felt like you were in the middle of the universe without any care and so many different colors were there. Just like stars and galaxies"

"The quantum realm!" Fluff exclaimed "of course! Why didn't I think of that?!"

"What's a quantum realm?"

"The Quantum Zone, the realm where all the energy of the universe come from, and the Microverse, which consists of many different sub-atomic dimensions all accessible through the same means as they are in the Marvel Cinematic Universe." Fluff thought out loud

Jason blinked in confusion "I didn't understand a single shit."

"Language" Alfred warned.

"The Quantum Realm is a dimension that can be entered from Earth by compressing a human's mass to a certain point. Entering the Quantum Realm could potentially cause the person who enters it to shrink forever. Due to the nature of the realm, time passes differently and is more fluid. As a result, with the right equipment, the Quantum Realm can be used for time travel though its impossible to change one's own timeline when traveling into the past in such a manner." Fluff continued

"Still don't get it" Jason shrugged

"You would if you were smarter." Damian snorted

"In a simpler way...A person needs to be really tiny to enter the quantum realm and time passes differently for each person" Tim explained

"Ohhhhh, I get it now!"

"So you're telling we've been stuck in time?" Kate asked

Fluff nodded "except for Alfred, who seemed to travel back in time." which made chaos rise.

"You're telling me we've been missing for five years?!"

"Wait so technically I'm the oldest" Jason laughed evilly

"No you're not! I'm still a year older than you!" Dick smirked

Damian almost gave out a smile, until he noticed Marinette sitting silently on the ground staring at her hands. He crawled towards her, out of Dicks grip and sat next to the girl muttering a small "hey"

"Hi" Marinette mumbled back, glancing at him.

"What's wrong?"

"I-it just seems so unreal, five years? That's like my teenage life. Tim's all grown up! How old is he? 22? and-"

"Hey! hey! Calm down, it's fine. if it helps you feel better, You can always taunt them on how young you are."

"-And you've grown up all tall and muscular and pretty-"

"Pretty?" Damian asked, his face turning red.

"The world has obviously changed! I don't know how you lived without Alfred or Me and Selina because you guys don't know a shit about cooking, and why didn't our miraculouses fade away with us? I could've done something to come back earlier"

"Stop it!" He said grabbing her shoulders "you've done the best you could And what really matters is that you're home"

"Oh and you've gotten soft." She gave him a teary smile before Pouncing on him, giving him a bear hug.

He wrapped his arms around her small body, rocking her back and forth questioning "Do you really think I'm Muscular and pretty"

"No!" Marinette squeaked quickly as she pulled away from their hug "I'm just really tired, and floating in space is really exhausting"

"Mm-hmm, sure" he smiled pecking her cheek, which made Marinette melt on the insides "you hungry?"

"Do you even know how to cook?" Marinette asked

"Hey, we learnt a thing or two when you guys disappeared." Damian chuckled, pulling Marinette to her feet while looking at his brothers questioningly, who were busy wrestling on the couch "You idiots need anything from the kitchen?"

"Yesss" Dick grinned "I want cereal."

"Noodles please!"

"Same here!"

                                                           ...

So how was the it ?....

Okkkk, I know it was pretty lame and all, The only reason I posted this was because I've had this draft for some time and I didn't have the heart to delete it because that would mean I only wasted my time. Soooooo I posted it. Kill me. My dignity is dead, I've got nothin to lose.

But if you guys want another chap... just ask 😉... and please comment and vote!

😊✨♥️

Byeeeeeeeeeee

This was taken from my Wattpad account

@Aquaqueen2020

#maribat #daminette #maridami #mlb x dc #tim drake #damian wayne #marinette dupain cheng #marvel endgame #the avengers #5 years later #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #jason todd #mlb #bruce wayne #batfamily #dcau

[nightlychaotic]

I love your fics so much but please lay low at doing the angst(angsty?) especially in daminette but still love it great job for making me cry

Also do you take request? If you are can I make one?

A daminette romance with Marinette as Lady Noire or Kitty Noire going on patrol with Cat woman and Mari accidentally cataclysm Robin's batarang? or katana.And there's a lot of chasing and cussing while Catwoman and Batman are quietly watching while the other vigilantes are laughing and saying it's genetic mainly Jason though

I’m so glad you enjoy my fics! If it makes you feel any better, I tend not to write angst, so there’s that.

I absolutely love this prompt. I did try and write it (though I wrote most of it while feeling lowkey like death, so I don’t know how great this is but....) so I hope I did it justice and that you enjoy!

Genetic

“Cataclysm!” Lady Noire called, on instinct, twisting hand meeting the sword’s blade as it whipped by her. It crumbled to ashes from her touch, her eyes widening as she saw Robin drop the hilt as it crumbled. He glared at her.

“Merde, it was an accident. I swear. That was pure instinct.”

Robin narrowed his eyes at her. She cursed before taking off Robin hot on her heels. Running over rooftops as she ran, a small laugh escaping as she ran. Ears twitching slightly as Robin skidded to a stop on the roof as she extended her baton in the middle of an alley, balancing on it, level with the rooftop.

“Get back here, you alley cat.”

“Excuse you. I am a queen,” she retorted, spinning around.

“Tt. As if a flea ridden feline such as you could be considered a queen.”

“Not all of us can have such a high pedigree like you. And anyways, I thought you liked animals,” she teased, hopping off onto the roof opposite of him. “Or have you taken to naming yourself after some prey for fun?” she asked, grinning.

“Do you think being on a different rooftop will keep you safe from me?”

She flicked her long braid over her shoulder as she turned, glancing over her shoulder at him with a small smirk. “It’s worked so far hasn’t it?”

Robin leapt at her, she narrowly dogged out of the way as he landed on the roof behind her.

“So close,” she replied before cursing as a batarang sliced past her, just barely cutting her cheek. She hissed, putting her hand to her cheek as Robin, tackled her, pinning her to the ground.

She grinned up at him. “What are you going to do now, lil bird?”

He glared down at her. 

She smirked as she flipped their positions and smirked down at him. Braid falling down next to her face as she looked down at him. She felt pleased as she found a faint color making it’s on it’s his cheeks. “What about now lil birdy? Hmm?”

He pushed her off of him, she twisted in the air, landing in a crouch, leaping back as he lunged at her once more.

She bolted, with a soft laugh, as Robin cursed behind, chasing after her once more.

---------------

“Oh my fucking god this is amazing. It’s genetic. B’s taste in women is fucking genetic oh my god.”

Nightwing laughed. “This really is B and Catwoman all over again.”

“Hey, B is it contagious!? Cause the Demon’s fucking going after a cat too! This is fucking gold oh my god,” Red Hood called over at Batman, leaning on Nightwing for support as he caught his breath. “This is fucking amazing. Oh my god.”

Red Robin rubbed his eyes as he watched, taking a second look. “I can’t believe this. He really is going after her.”

Catwoman laughed softly, from her spot next to Batman. “Almost reminds me of us at the beginning, though with a bit less murderous intent.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhmm. Seems like your sons agree with me,” she replied as she gestured towards the three vigilantes dying. Red Hood practically wheezing as he watched, Red Robin recording the two while Nightwing grinned.

---------------

Robin caught up to Lady Noire, getting the jump on her and managing to pin her against a wall.

“Second time tonight,” she observed with a grin.

“Undo your magic.”

“I can’t. Sorry,” she gave a soft smile and tilted her head to the side.

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Can’t. Strictly Destructive. Can’t remake as a cat. Care to let me go?”

“No,” he replied, tightening his grip on her.

“Going to make me go through you?” She asked, before leaning forward and gave him a small kiss on the cheek, slipping out of his grasp and rejoined Selina, giving a small, over the top bow followed by a small salute to Robin before they left, her light laughter echoing slightly.

“Sorry again about the sword. I’ll catch you later, little bird,” she said before she and Catwoman took off. Robin stared after her for a moment, as his brothers surrounded him.

“So your following in B’s footsteps huh Demon?”  

“Tt. I don’t know what you mean, Hood.”

“You’ve gotten yourself a cat too!”

“I have not.”

“Sorry, baby bird, I’m with Hood.”

“The appeal of cats is genetic!” Hood crowed with a laugh. He leaned slightly as a batarang buried itself into the wall next to him. “Hey! Watch it!”

“Then shut up.”

“I’m just saying first B and Catwoman, now you and Lady Noire. It’s uncanny as fuck.”

“Tt.” 

Robin turned away from his brothers’ teasing, glancing over at the direction she’d disappeared, catching a small glimpse of her in the distance, leaping from rooftop to rooftop.

[evera6234]

Gotham’s Salty WIP: Chapter I

RATING: T (Teen for cursing and stuff, this may change)

SUMMARY: 

Basically, the typical Daminette with a bit of lime and spice. Borderline crack fic bc i cant without humor. 

Marinette Dupain-Cheng goes to Gotham whilst carrying three years worth of emotional baggage, what she does with it, we don't know. Does she lug it around? Probably. Does she kick it off a skyscraper? Not probable, but maybe. Does she use it to drop kick an unsuspecting liar. Most definitely.                ~~~> EDITED BY OLLIETHETURTLE ON AO3

Transferred from AO3. 

Lemme know if ya wanna be tagged

OK. Umm.. First fic on AO3. K. We doin this, and we starting with this god awful piece of trash. Yes. Life. Fuck. 

Things ur signing up for:

Big boi Mari & Chloe Friendship Good Vibes TM

My ass shitting on Adrien bc im a salty bitch (and if u aint about that life, its ok. U can leave bc im not interested in fighting with people. No offence or disrespect to adrien stans but yea)

And Adrien stalker moments

Lila and Alya salt (plz see “im a salty bitch”)

Shitty update schedule, if any. I’m counting on yall to harass me to write.

Marinette & Jason “sibling-esque” relationship bc we all need that

An obscene amount of cursing (as you can already tell)

The class will not be  “Our singular communal brain-cell is fucking dead, help.” levels of dumb, but still “I have the IQ of a wet potato sack” levels of dumb.

Eventual negation of canon bc we live that life

“Espresso with a dash of Depresso” Moments TM

I'm originally an MLB fan. So do what you will with that info.

The good old “Ozmav AU” but with some lime and spice

As slow burn as I can

Mental Health stuff and the repercussions of having multiple identities treated completely differently

And the crown jewel of this entire fic… Auntie Harley and Ivy.

And….. sorry…. Ppl will kinda be OOC but im trying my very best. 

Tbh I have no idea where this going rn but... i mean… it going somewhere (specifically hell) because everything does. Leave ideas plz, don’t kill me. Just bully me. 

So yea. Lemme know what u want and if I want to, I might just squeeze it into the fic (if it fit ofc, im not just gonna add random 50 year time-lapses). I'll try my best ;)))) (<-- my quadruple chin)

~

Chloe’s head hangs heavy on Mari’s shoulder as the pressurised air surrounding them vibrates with the sounds… of well… a plane. Chloe had a tough couple weeks; late night combat practises with the new team (LB, Hornet, Viperion and Ryuuko) has obviously taken a toll on her partner. Both wrapped in a thick velvet blanket that Chloe remembered to pack (thank kwami) sharing a pair of headphones, both were lulled into a peaceful slumber.

Alya laughs as Lila tips her small glass of diet coke (that a flight attendant painstakingly poured for her) on a sleeping Marinette’s side of Chloe’s blanket, effectively waking her up. “Oopsies! Sorry Marinette! You see, the cabin air has really been worsening my arthritis. I didn’t mean it! I swear! Cross my heart!” apologized Lila with fake concern as Alya giggles beside her. 

Marinette, literally seeing Lila’s crossed figures behind her back says “At least Chloe is still sleeping, she needs the rest.” Alya, Lila and her empty cup saunter beck to their seats nearby. 

~

Mari and her class finally land in Gotham’s cold December night. Freshly hushed into a private shuttle, the class are driven to their hotel. It is late: around 3:30 AM. With heavy eyelids the class gazed out the bus’s windows in awe. The merging view of traffic and Christmas lights chase them to their residence. No one really remembers or knows what happened that night. Just the feeling of falling, be it into a white fluffy hotel comforter or into the crisp Gotham air. 

~

“Oh! My! Gosh!!!” hears Marinette as Lila on the bus to Wayne Enterprise. “I feel so. At. Home!” In Marinette’s tired ears, there were more exclamation marks. 

“Of course… The only thing that can inhabit Gotham alleyways are cockroaches and villains,” Chloe grumbles beneath her breath, looking out the window.

“What have I ever done to you Chloe?” Lila cries, “I understand why Marinette bullies me, she is a jealous and vile girl. But I thought you, Chloe, want to be a better person, not a bully like that bitch, Marinette!”

“How dare you. How dare you. HOW DARE YOU!” Chloe yells as the recent words loop in her mind, 

“Not gonna call your daddy, huh?” Alya taunts. 

Chloe, with tears in her eyes begins, but is quickly interrupted by Marinette, “No she will not. She doesn’t need to. Chloe grew a lot over the last couple months, I’m so proud of her. She doesn’t need your bitch-ass approval.” Marinette grasps Chloe’s hand which previously wrapped itself around the fabric of Chloe’s heavy caramel winter coat.

“Quiet on the bus!”, A yell came from the front.

“But, Mr. Bus Driver… Marinette is being a…”

“Shut it! Y’all want me to kamikaze this shit into a building? I’m guessing y’all value your lives so shut it!” 

“Ms.Guardian, can I please have a cookie?” Pollen softly asks from the inside of Chloe’s giant white faux leather handbag.

“Shh… Pollen! Now’s not the time!!!” stresses Tikki.

“Please Ms. Guardian!!! I’m so so so hungry. This bag isn’t very warm and it’s taking all my energy to keep warm. A lil blubber wouldn’t hurt…. please!!”.

“Of course Pollen,” quietly respond Mari with a grin, “Here you go.” She pulls out a couple cookies from a Tupperware and hands them to Pollen. “Please share them with Tikki,” whispers Marinette into the bag. 

Marinette and Chloe then hears two tiny “thank you”s followed by the sound that can only be described increasingly aggressive chomping. Both girls giggle quietly.

~

“Welcome to Gotham,” says an unenthusiastic man at the front desk. “Congratulations, you are…” He checks his computer. “On time? Interesting.”

“Yes, we are aware,” grumbles Mrs. Bustier, already done with the man’s attitude.

“Okay so before the tour starts I’m doing to need the student who set-up this field trip to sign a couple forms and stuff. Here ya go.” The man pushed a thicc pile of paper into the teachers hand. 

“Oooh! That would be me sir!” Lila chirped, intercepting the papers before skipping back to her posse of her’s. A few seconds after beginning to fill out paperwork Lila cries “Ouch! My wrist! My arthritis! Can someone help me filling out all these form.” 

“I’ll fill them out, I’m only going to need your signatures,” offered Max.

“Thank you Max, you are so sweet!” Lila complements. 

“Of course, your arthritis was badly affected by the altitude yesterday, you shouldn’t be staining your wrist so early!” Max blushed. 

“Maribug, you gonna to say something?” 

“Nah, just watch. Entertainment without a Netflix membership.”

#dcu x mlb #dc x miraculous #daminette #maribat #marinette deserves better #chloe redemption #ozmav #ml salt #adrien salt #alya salt #lila salt #chloe sugar #we love chloe in this house #aunty harley and ivy of ya'll stick around #cross-posted on ao3 #miraculous salt

[batsandbugs]

Help (I Need Somebody) Help

AN:Hey everyone! Hope you’re doing well, here’s chapter two of my wrong number daminette AU. I had a lot of fun with this, enjoy!

Chapter 2

Damian held back an unimpressed sigh when two goons rushed him. Their stances were off balance, and he could smell the stench of alcohol wafting off of them.  A low sweep to their legs had both tumbling to the ground. If he had a dime for every lowbrow thug who thought they had a chance at beating him, he’d be richer than his father twice over.

It wasn’t his fault the brain lacking buffoons hadn’t figured out they had a snowball’s chance in hell to beat him in the seven years he lived here. Damian certainly wasn’t going to be the one to tell them different now. He needed some sort of stress relief after Alfred banned swearing in the house.

He flipped another grunt over his shoulders, an audible crack of a broken bone soon followed.

His mask hid a glint of amusement that was surely gleaming in his eyes, but he kept his face an annoyed scowl. The last thing he needed was word getting back to his father for finding pleasure in the suffering of others. Even if the whole reason they were out tonight, punching up a contingent of near brain-dead loons, was to stop a sex trafficking ring. It was times like this where he seriously considered the validity of his father’s no-killing rule; surely some scum wouldn’t be missed.

He whipped around to punch another man, nearly a foot taller than him and thrice as wide, across the face. Blood spurted from the thug’s nose as the behemoth fell to the ground. Good. Damian jumped back and flipped himself over to roundhouse kick another goon. Another satisfying crack, and the last of them had finally fallen to his superior skills.

Easy.

He waited for the warm glow of satisfaction after a fight well fought, but all he received was the familiar rush of adrenaline and the delicious burn of his muscles tensing for another go.

Unfortunately, all too easy.

Damian didn’t sigh, he was too disciplined for that, but the low-level grumbling in his mind, and the displeased sneer were all too indicative of his problem.

He was utterly unchallenged.

It wasn’t that he enjoyed getting beat to hell and back. He wasn’t a masochist (although, the same could not be said for the rest of his family, if anyone asked him (which, of course, they didn’t)). It was just… after three years with the Titans, constantly stretching to prove himself, pushing his abilities to keep up with those endowed with advantages he simply didn’t have, Gotham felt… lacking in comparison.

And with the Titans all but formally disbanded, Gotham was all he had.

Well… that wasn’t entirely true. He could follow Cyborg and Blue Beetle and join the Justice League. He had enough blackmail material on all the core members needed to vote him in if his father protested. It would be a welcome change; higher level threats and off world missions, if only there wasn’t the pesky problem of dealing with other heroes.

He would be the first to admit that in his younger teenage years his anti-socialness was a bit… problematic, but he’d grown past that. Socializing with the Titans had been difficult at first, but by the end he could say he was more than an acquaintance with them – even if he wouldn’t go so far as to call all of them friends. But even if he had gotten used to them, it still took three years. At least in Gotham his potential partners were all known quantities. Even if he disliked half of them on his good days.

“Robin, do you read?” called his father on the comms. He shook away his distracting maudlin thoughts.

He raised a hand to his comm. “All clear southside Batman, making my way to the roof.”

“Negative, Hood is already there. Red Robin needs help releasing the captives – cops will be here in fifteen.”

Damian bit back an irritated sigh. “I’ll be of more use-”

“Robin, that’s an order.”

The words wrapped around him, restricting in their resoluteness. He glared down at the unconscious thug and gave a swift kick to the side resulting in an incoherent groan. Gritting his teeth, he muttered, “Yes, Batman.”

His comm feed dropped off.

The resulting string of swear words he uttered in Arabic would have cost him two hundred dollars in the swear jar. Damian just didn’t give enough of a fuck to bring himself to care.

-0o0-

Damian didn’t slam his bedroom door shut, but it was a close thing.

Between avoiding his father, deflecting the inane chatter of his siblings, and dealing with the GCPD, all of whom were either corrupt, uncaring, or ridiculously overworked, he had been ready stab someone, repeatedly, consequences be damned.

And that discounted dealing with the inconsolable sobbing women they rescued from the shipping containers. The sight of dozens of girls packed together like cargo, most of them his age, if not younger, would be enough to throw even the most experienced off their game.

Damian lived through some truly horrid things growing up in the League. He killed a grown man before he lost his first baby tooth. Suffered through endless hours of training with painful consequences upon any sign of failure. He had been beaten, starved, tortured, and pushed to the extremes of what a child could endure, but the utter horror and disgust he was faced with tonight, well…

At least the suffering he’d endured had a point.

Rubbing a towel through his still damp hair, he collapsed on top of his bed with an exhausted groan. The shower did little in relaxing his tensed muscles, his bed a welcome retreat after being on his feet for hours. Reaching out blindly he grabbed his phone off his bedside table. Going to bed would be the better choice, but it was Saturday, so he didn’t really give a damn.

His phone flicked on and he was taken aback by the notification awaiting him.

40 unread messages

He raised an eyebrow. That was odd. Not completely impossible, but odd. He did have acquaintances who would text him, Jon and Garfield came to mind, but it would be one or two messages at the most. Maybe a missed call if it was something extremely important.

He unlocked his phone.

Tapping on his messaging app, he saw that the messages all came from an unknown number.

That raised even more concerns, considering anyone who had this number were people he should already have programed into his contacts.

This put Damian’s suspicions on high alert.

Cautiously tapping on the text stream, he began reading.

        - As long as you’re not an evil villain running around in a purple suit or a bitchy Italian transfer student I figure you won’t care about what I have to say

         - I haven’t slept in two days. My brain is buzzing. And between my insomnia and four years of repressed anger generated by existing in the same city as an emotional terrorist who uses magical butterflies to turn distressed people into monsters, I might come off a bit incoherent

Before Damian could stop it, a small laugh of amusement passed his lips. This person was either really high, or entirely serious.

His finger hovered over the delete button. This had nothing to do with him. The person admitted they were texting a random number to blow off steam. He should just let it go and get some sleep.

But despite the long drive home, the debriefing, and a shower, the adrenaline hadn’t left his system yet. And the sight of those women in the container wasn’t going to leave his brain for a while. Sleep wouldn’t be coming for a long time yet. Whoever this was, sounded, if not entirely sane, at least somewhat amusing.

Looking back on it, Damian didn’t know what the influencing factor that made him read further. It could have been amusement, or curiosity. It could have been sleep deprivation. It could have been the promise of distraction. It could all of those or none of those, or any combination thereof.

Or it could have been luck.

Pulling up the knitted blanket from the end of his bed, he settled in against his covers, and began to read.

Permanent Tag List 

@theunquiet-dead @loveswifi @fusser90 @animegirlweeb @ihavehomeworkbutistillhere​   @your-resident-chicken-nugget

Story Tag List 

@maskedpainter @ambrosiabcp03 @mystery-5-5 @faunrasthewinterelf @greatcatblaze @shifty-lesbian-retro-goblin @dorkus-minimus @nickristus-dreamer @beautiful-disasters-sunshine @justafanwarrior @lunathealphafemale @dood-space @sdg-art-film-stories @tumbling-down-hills-and-stuff @dawnwave16 @mewwitch

#damian x marinette #maridami #maribat #damimari #mlb crossover #ml x dc #marinette dupain-cheng x damian wayne #marinette dupain cheng x damian wayne #moodboard #damientte #fanfic

[miraculouspenta]

I have a request.if marinette is Jon's twin sister and has no power. Marinette contact justice league for help but she end up being reveal her identity to justice league because jon and Clark knows her and can you make it daminette story

Tale of the Girl Kent

One evening years ago, twin cries could be heard in Metropolis. These cries belong to Jonathan Samuel Kent and Marinette Martha Ella Kent, newborn children of Lois Lane and Clark Kent. They grew up together for quite some time, and people around them could swear they never saw one without the other.

Ever since a young age, Jonathan, or Jon as people call him, discovered that he had inherited his father's superpowers. Flight, super hearing, super speed, heat vision, x-ray vision, and etc. Marinette on the other hand doesn't have these superhuman abilities. She does, however, have an incredibly sharp eye for detail, astonishing creativity, unimaginable problem-solving skills, and an IQ that is already considered a genius, 184. Even though she was born without mystical abilities, Marinette never felt jealous of her twin. Howbeit because of this, her father decided not to tell the rest of the league, short of Batman and Wonder Woman.

When the twins turned nine, Lois and Clark felt like they were neglecting their little girl, focusing more on teaching Jon how to handle his powers. Marinette didn't mind and she had told them this repeatedly.  But then again, they're parents, they're supposed to worry. As a result, they decided to reach out to Lois' old college friend and roommate, Nadja Chamack. They told her of their dilemma and asked if she knew anyone who could and would take care of their daughter. Nadja mentioned a married couple whom she has known since high school. She said that they had wanted a child but the doctor said they couldn't have one. Of course, Nadja also mentioned that the couple were really kind people, they would never take their place as parents. They would, however, be pleased to be their daughter's guardian.

And that's what happened. Marinette flew to Paris the next week to live with her new guardians, leaving a teary eyed father and brother behind, not like they would admit it. She soon found her guardians' names are Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng. She could've sworn she stared at the sun when they picked her up.

As time went by, Marinette got very comfortable with the Dupain-Chengs to the point she slipped and called them maman and papa. She told her biological parents about this and they were glad she felt safe enough to call them that. Both didn't have anything against Tom and Sabine because of that and Marinette was really glad.

Let's jump to when she turns 13. She finds a mysterious box on her desk and opens it. When a flying creature flew out of it, Marinette wasn't really surprised. She had seen weirder things. Then the creature, who she found out was named Tikki, started explaining that she was chosen to be a hero to save Paris. "Figures that I'm made to join the family business," she said. Tikki just blinked, "What do you me-" she was cut off by a shout. "Kim!" a voice roared. "You can explain this to me later, right now just say spots on," Tikki said.

Once the 'akuma' was handled, Marinette told Tikki of her biological family. "Hey Tikki?" "Yeah?" "Do you think I should call the Justice League? Not to ask them for help, more like... Tell them of they are going to Paris to keep their emotions in control? I don't think I can defeat my dad or my brother." "That's a great idea Marinette! Although I suggest that you ask Chat Noir for his opinion first." And here she is now on the Eiffel Tower with Chat, trying to call the League.

Ironically, Superman answered. "Hello, this is the Justice League. How may we help you." "Hello, my name is Ladybug and this is Chat Noir," it felt so weird using formal talk with her dad, "We wanted to inform you of Paris' new situation as of yesterday." At the word Paris, Superman's froze, Mari lives there. "A supervillain has appeared and it turns people into villains to do the dirty work. It appears that the supervillain transforms them if someone has a negative emotion. Hawkmoth, the supervillain, and us get our powers from the miraculi," Ladybug continued knowing that her dad knows about the miraculi. "We came to ask if any of you were to come to Paris make sure that your emotions are under control," Chat said, "We don't need to fight any of you."

"I can accept that, I have heard of the miraculi and it seems reasonable," Superman said, "If I'm correct, any damage should be reversed. No civilians should be hurt, am I right?" "Figures he'd be worried about me," Ladybug mumbled forgetting that her dad had super hearing and pieced everything together. "My cupcake?" he asked. Ladybug's eyes widened before she started laughing, "Damn it, forgot you had super hearing." Superman grinned, "Looks like you're in the family business anyway huh?" "Seems like it."

Chat stood on the side wondering why are the two so comfortable with each other. "Guess I owe you an explanation huh Chat?" Ladybug said, "Superman here, is my biological father and the current Superboy is my twin brother. Unlike him, I didn't inherit dad's powers." Meanwhile, on the other side of the line, Clark called for his son and told him the news. "Hiya sis!" "Hiya little brother!" "You're only older by 5 minutes!" "I'm still older!" Chat laughed at their banter, "I can see that now."

"Just hold on a minute, I can register your partner and change your name and you can zeta on over to discuss this more," Superman said, "Also, I missed you." "I miss you too." Once Superman gave them the okay, Ladybug disconnected the phone and dragged Chat over to the zeta platform (I have little knowledge of this so feel free to correct me) They ended up at the Watchtower and Ladybug hurriedly ran to her father and brother giving them a big hug. "Superman have you seen-" Wonder Woman stopped when she saw Ladybug hugging her colleague. She ran out of the room to grab someone to make sure she wasn't hallucinating, that person happened to be Batman, and wherever Batman goes, 16 year old Robin follows.

"You are seeing this too right? That's his daughter right?" Wonder Woman asked. "Yes I am, and most likely." Meanwhile, Robin was just confused, who was this girl and... Is that a knockoff Catwoman? But since Batman appeared not to think of her as a threat he let it slide, that is until their eyes met. His heart skipped a beat. Her eyes are so beautiful. Superboy heard Robin's heartbeat picking up and smirked because it wasn't only Robin's heart, but also his sisters. Both speeding up but still somehow in sync. They are going to date each other if it's the last thing I do.

1143 words

Longest one shot apart from my secret Santa. Tell me if you want part two.

XOXO ~𝓔𝓲𝓵𝓮𝓮𝓷

#maribat #damian x marinette #damimari #maridami #twin au #platonic marijon

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Crash on the Couch AU

by ew_selfish_art

Now in their mid-twenties, Marinette returns home to their shared apartment to find Adrien cheating. Devastated, she immediately joins a mission in America for the Justice League.

Once the goons are all down, Robin, her long-time coworker (and even though he doesn't realize it yet, admirer) notices something off about Ladybug. He offers her a place to stay while she heals from her heartbreak, and his favor as a very kind Co-worker does not go without hijinks. Identity shenanigans ensue, healthy healing while also grieving the loss of the relationship, and conversations about the future. Feelings also occur between them but... Damian wants to be more than just a rebound.

Side plots include: Tim losing his mind over Damian coming into the office dressing fashionably in MDC and Jason is losing his mind trying to track down the random pixie woman who healed his pit madness.

TL:DR: Marinette crashes on Damian's couch while healing a broken heart. Mutual respect and appreciation thrive here. Sad for a second but gets happier as it goes.

Words: 6649, Chapters: 1/7, Language: English

Fandoms: Miraculous Ladybug, DCU, Batman - All Media Types

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Chloé Bourgeois, Alya Césaire, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir

Relationships: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Damian Wayne, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Damian Wayne

Additional Tags: Slow Burn, starts sad but i swear it ends happily, Damian Wayne Has a Heart, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Needs a Hug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Is a Mess, Started from the bottom now we're here, Friends help friends, no beta we die like jason todd, Daminette, MariBat

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/44209546

#IFTTT #bruce wayne #batman #the dark knight #the cape crusader #gotham #dc universe #ao3 #ao3feed

[novemberandmay]

As She Falls

Daminette Day 27, Falling

Warning: Mentions Suicide, Bullying, Trauma, Kidnapping, Character Death, and Lowered Self Worth

If you are uncomfortable with any of the topics above, please DO NOT READ. You have been warned.

Chapters: Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

—

And as she fell from the roof top, her eyes glistened with tears. At least this way sh won’t get in the way. At least this way everyone’s happy.

“At least this way, everyone’s happy.”

Marinette has been attending Gotham academy for a few months now, but couldn’t make a single friend in that time. Well, unless you counted her desk mate, Damian, but he was more of an acquaintance in her opinion. So as she sat on the top of the roof, she sighed.

“LET GO OF ME! PLEASE, I SWEAR I’LL BE GOOD!”

Making friends wasn’t this hard in Paris, but, well, trust issues probably play a big roll in her friendless status.

But as she developed deeper into her thoughts, the bell snapped her out of her musing.

“I’M GOING TO BE LATE!” She screamed to the sky, hurrying to pick up her stuff. She ran down the staircase, barely making it to class in time.

“MAMA, PAPA! NO-“

As Marinette left her final class of the day, she slipped on a piece of paper. Groaning as she picked herself up, she looked down at the paper now in her hand. It hand her name, but it wasn’t her handwriting. She looked closer, noticing a sentence scribbled on the back.

“Go die loser, no one wants you here.”

It also hand some words scrawled all over it.

“WORTHLESS”

“UGLY”

“USELESS”

“ANNOYING”

Those four being the nicer ones.

Well her being bullied put a pause on a friendship goal.

“Will she live, doctor? Please tell me she will..”

A Few Months Later..

It’s been almost a year since she transferred, but things have only gotten worse. The girls who’ve been bullying her got physical lately, pulling her hair and burning her homework. But she also got a friend! Two of them, actually! Her old desk mate, Damian, and a sunshine boy named Jon! Life was looking up as she hung out with them, enjoying her days of freedom.

Her parents died. All three of them were caught in a fire at their bakery in Paris, she being the only survivor. Marinette had took her break off school to visit her parents, and came back to Gotham an orphan. She was 18, a legal adult, so no one had to take custody of her. She was left on her own, burn scars adorning her body.

“I’m sorry.”

Damian and Jon had noticed something was off with their friend Marinette, but collectively decided to ignore it. It was probably something temporary, she’d be fine in a few weeks.

It was not fine- she was not fine. Her bullies had decided to hire someone to kidnap her, hoping she would learn her lessons after a few days. But she did not return after a few days. It took two months to find her body, her almost lifeless body.

If only the cops had found her sooner.

If only the girls hadn’t hired someone.

If only someone paid attention to her.

If only Damian and Jon didn’t shrug it off.

If only...

When Marinette had returned to school, she was a shell of herself. Jumping at every touch, she closed herself off to everyone. But even with her new trauma, the bullying didn’t stop. Even when she begged them, they didn’t stop. And her friends, Damian and Jon, hadn’t even talked to her, electing to give her some quiet.

So as she stood on top of the academy, one foot already dangling off, she cried. She cried as softly as possible, for her parents, wherever they may rest, for her friends in Paris, who don’t have a clue at what was happening, for Jon, who will feel guilty for ignoring all the signs, for Damian, who she had fallen in love with, who will break down in shock after hearing what happened, and for herself. For the orphan who stands on the top of the school, ready to jump. For the one who lost it all.

She looked up to the sky, thinking only one thing.

“At least this way, everyone’s happy.”

And jumped.

Taglist:

@neakco 

@dood-space 

@jjmjjktth 

@animeweebgirl 

@nickristus-dreamer 

@talushi2002 

@miraculouslydumb 

@daminette-december2019-2020 

Notes: Should I continue this? Or not? Anyways, this is pretty much unedited, and very rushed! Should I add anymore warnings? If so, please comment them below! Have a great day/night y’all! (If I do continue this, there will be way more Daminette, don’t worry. It wasn’t the main goal of this part of the fic, so I couldn’t write much. But I do have ideas! If anyone wants me to continue..)

If you want to be tagged for any of my fics, please comment below! Please mention which one, or if you want to be tagged for all of them!

-November

#maribat #marinette x damian #daminette #mlb x batman #batman x mlb #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #suicidal themes #bullying themes #kidnapping themes #damian x marinette #Daminette december

[thr-333]

Drastic Measures- Part 11

@daminette-december2019-2020

~Snow globe~

Gabriel: Nathalie why haven't you canceled my card?! Nathalie: oh were you going to use that to pay my pay rise for moving to a different continent or to pay my last 6 years of overtime? Gabriel: Nathalie- Nathalie: You’re welcome to do it yourself sir. Gabriel:....... I can’t do anything without you can I? Nathalie: No you cant and make sure to remember that next pay day.

Ao3

First < Previous  > Next

------------

“So why are we here?” Damian asks getting dragged around the mall by the two.

“Because if we’re decorating the pet stores we need inspiration,” Marinette holds him by his elbow in case he tries to escape again, “And Adrien's having fun,”

“Why don’t we just hire someone for that?”

“I haven't found a good babysitter yet,” Marinette smiles as she knows Damian glares at her, “The style of the store is the most important thing, it’s what people interact with the most and a representation of our company,”

“Tt,” Marinette smiles knowing she won. 

They follow Adrien into an incredibly overpriced knick-knacks store, exactly what they’re looking for. She jots down notes in her book looking at the glasswork on the figurines or the beautifully painted porcelain.

“I think every store should have the same color coordination for each section,” Marinette suggests writing down a potential palette based on the plates she was looking at, “So people always know where to find something no matter the store,”

“How many people do you think are going to multiple stores?” Damian scoffs.

“We will be, besides its a decorative thing, a bit of paint on the wall or shelf, hm maybe each section should have a range of shades to keep it from being too samey,”

“I take it you’re in charge of this part now?”

“Guess so,” Marinette hums looking over the shelves for more inspiration, Adrien looking over a large glass sculpture that she may have to talk him out of buying, “So did you talk to Adrien?”

“Oh no,” Damian catches her attention, “He talked I was expected to listen,”

“So you make any decisions?” She spots a little china doll on a high shelf.

“I’m not going to run away if that’s what you’re asking,” Damian reaches over her grabbing the doll before she knocks over shelves trying to jump up and reach it.

“But If you were-”

“I’m not,” Damian hands the doll over.

“But if you were,” He gives her a withered glare, “Where would you go?”

“… Somewhere I can paint I suppose,” He says after some consideration.

“That's a start!” Marinette exclaims, almost dropping the doll.

“I can paint anywhere,” Damian catches it before she can.

“Ah,” They go back to pursuing the shelves, Damian taking it upon himself to hold the delicate decorations for some reason.

“... Where would you go?” He asks eventually, Marinette tries to keep the smile to herself as to not scare him off.

“I used to think I’d like to go somewhere with lots of snow,”

“Is that so?” Damian hums consideringly.

“Yeah but then I came here and realized the cold sucks,” Marinette's jaw actually drops as Damian laughs, not a snort or a scoff and actual chuckle! “Hollll- did you just laugh?! Did I just get you to laugh!? Are there cameras around?! Do you think they’ll let me keep the footage?!”

“Calm down,” Damian places a hand on her head to stop her bouncing,  “Besides I think your friend is about to make a ludicrous purchase,”

“Adrien!” Marinette snaps as he tries to pay for a glass sculpture twice his size, “Can it fit on the back of a motorcycle?!”

“.... no,” Adrien hangs his head like a toddler being told off.

“Then put it down!” Marinette chides dragging him away from the sculpture and out of the store. She already had to fit three on them on hers. Damian is lagging behind, Marinette resigns herself to having to drag them both through the mall like children when he finally catches up.

“Here take this,” She startles a snow globe in a clear box being pressed into her hands, “Now you can look at the snow without getting cold,”

“That's so nice,” She bites down on the follow-up question of where the hell is Damian and what did you do with him.

“No, it’s bribery,” Ah there he is, “Don’t tell anyone I laughed,”

“So you admit you laughed,” Marinette smirks, letting Adrien go look at different stores.

“Besides,” Damian sharply changes the topic, “If you want to see the snow so badly just stay inside a cabin or something,”

“Well maybe you can come with me,” Marinette hums looking at the snowflakes fall over a winter forest, two little people by a campfire, “I bet it would be beautiful to paint,”

“Maybe so,” Damian agrees before giving her a side look, “Also you’re a horrible influence,”

“Who me? It’s not like I gave you the idea to run away,” He had come to her with that all on his own.

“No you didn’t,” Damian easily agrees, walking along with Marinette.

“Well if you’re still in the rebellion mood why don’t you join the pink hair squad?”

“I am not dying my hair pink,” Damian rolls his eyes.

“Just a little bit?” Marinette steps in front of him walking backward.

“No,” Damian brushes past her, Marinette lets him go ahead.

“Adrien I just had the best idea,” Marinette turns to her side where Adrien is not. Marinette looks behind her spotting Adrien in the crowd- getting picked up and carried away by a stranger! “ADRIEN!”

Damian hears her shout bolting forward. Grabbing a baton he apparently had the whole time. 

“Damian, watch out! They might have feelings!” Damian actually stops in his tracks, turning back to glare at her.

“...”

“...”

“Hey guys,” Adrien speaks up, “I’m kind of being kidnapped,”

“Right!” Marinette wipes the grin off her face, punching the kidnapper right on the jaw. He drops Adrien who lands on his feet, “Do I need a child leash for you young man?”

“Please don’t my Father had one of those for me,” Adrien brushes himself off as the kidnapped stumbles to the ground.

“Weren’t you never allowed out of the house?” Marinette asks as Damian steps forward to pull the kidnapper's arms behind their back.

“Exactly,”

“Not that this isn't riveting,” Damian says in the most bored tone, turning to the kidnapped, “Who hired you?”

“Garbeil Agreste sent me to fetch his son,”

“Yeah, here we call that kidnapping,” Adrien snarks back, “Great can’t the guy just leave me alone? What's his problem it’s like-”

“Nope!” Damian drops the kidnapper walking away, “Not today! Not again!”

“... well that's just rude,” Adrien huffs as someone calls the police.

“Don’t worry,” Marinette smiles, “As I was trying to tell you I have a plan,”

 ---

 “MARINETTE!”

“Hm wonder what that could be about,” Marinette flips the page, continuing to read peacefully while seated for breakfast with the rest of the Waynes.

“Dupain-Cheng I know you are responsible for this,” Damian leans over her, still in a towel and dripping wet, oh and with pink hair that bits kinda important.

“You did this to him?” Jason laughs, not so subtly taking pictures with glee.

“Relax it’s temporary dye,” Marinette grabs Damain’s shoulder before he can jump over the table and dismember Jason.

“How temporary?” Damian demands, Marinette just turns to a new page with no drips of water on it.

“Just wash it a few more times and it will come right out,” Damian huffs again stalking out of the room, all eyes on her.

“... I can’t believe you survived that,” Tim says with awe, “Actually even Damians not stupid enough to risk that,”

She’ll ask what he means later.

 ---

 “Temporary Dupain-cheng?” Damian glares at her, still very much pink and still very much angry.

“Alright maybe not,” Marinette tries to suppress a giggle, “It looks good tho,”

“Dupain-cheng you will fix this and you will fix this now,” She’s not lying he does look good and she does blush.

“Well, we could go to the hairdresser-”

“No,” Damian snaps, crossing his arms like it's final.

“Do you trust me to dye your hair myself?”

“Absolutely not,” at least not after this.

“Then you’re stuck like that,” Marinette shrugs, Damian groans sinking into the seat behind him.

“This is all your fault Dupain-cheng,”

“Ha, how long are you going to call me that?” Damian leans forward fixing her with a venomous glare.

“Forever,”

 ---

 “Hey Robin- are you wearing a swimming cap under your hood?” Ladybug cuts herself off trying to take off his hood.

“It’s a lightweight head protector,” Robin grabs her wrist, but Ladybug is stronger.

“Yeah no,” Ladybug pushes his hood off, “It’s a swimming cap, what is killer croc up to something?”

“You’re hilarious,” Robin scoffs looking away as if there isn’t a real smile tugging at his mouth.

“Well I can’t let Chat take all the glory,” Ladybug shrugs coming to sit next to him in what has become their usual spot, “So what's the deal? Gasp did you lose a dare?”

“Did you just say gasp?” Robin asks incredulously, “And no it’s not a dare it’s a rather unfortunate prank,”

“Oh please please tell me they did the same to Batman, Please,” Ladybug his holding both his shoulders, Robin completely turned towards her as she looks at him desperately.

“........ yes,”

 ---

 “Marinette,”

“Yes Bruc-” Marinette chokes then tries to choke down her laugh.

“I feel you may have gotten carried away, I would like to remind you-” 

“So sorry to interrupt,” Marinette interrupts, “But that wasn't me,”

“Are you sure?” Bruce is studying her.

“Yeah I only messed with Damian's  bathroom,” Marinette turns completely towards him, “Were you using Damian's bathroom?”

“No,”

“Then it wasn't me,” Marinette shrugs turning away.

“Then who did it?”

“A true mystery,”

 ---

 “So you’re sure you want me to do this,” Marinette asks again, the dye in one hand Damian sitting in front of her.

“Dupain-Cheng I swear-”

“Ah, if I help you, you have to stop calling me that,” She tells him, pulling the black dye away for extra effect.

“I only call you that because of what you did,” Damian glares at her reflection in the mirror, “If you want to get back in my good graces then do this,”

“Alright, you’re sure you don’t want to keep a little pink?”

“Marinette,”

“Alright, alright,” Marinette ruffles his hair while she can get away with it, “I did like your pink hair,”

“It got in the way of...” He trails off.

“Way of what?”

“Nothing,” Marinette drops it, the topic not the dye.

“Well Damian,” She spreads the dye through his hair, “Welcome to your first step of rebellion,”

Little did either realize how true that was.

--------

no tag list :P

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug fic #miraculous ladybug #mircaulous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #Marinette #miraculous marinette #badass marinette #maribat #ML #MLB #ml fic