#Paris is an emotional hostage

[princess-of-the-corner]

My problem with Adrien's actions in Syren isn't his feelings, but the timing. Paris is flooded by an Akuma attack, thousands of people are DEAD and will stay so unless the Akuma is defeated, and THAT is the moment he threatens to quit unless Plagg tells him about the Guardian.

He's literally holding the city hostage for it.

He's literally fucking not he's doing the exact fucking opposite and the fact that I have to say this fcukign AGAIN about a years old episode is getting on my nerves so let's go over several facts here

1.) There is literally nothing Adrien can do right now.

Adrien already tried fighting Syren the old-fashioned way without the power-ups. He got his ass handed to him. So did Ladybug. That's why Ladybug fucked off to ask Fu if he had any ideas. If Adrien tried to do something again, he'd lose to Syren and get his Miraculous taken.

The only thing he can do is sit and wait for Ladybug and hope that she may have something for him to do. Which, for all he knows, she won't! Adrien doesn't know about the power-ups so Ladybug's probably going to come back with another Hero who has some water-themed powers who can save the day single-handedly!

2.) He's trying to do what he can

The whole GODDAMN POINT is that Adrien wants to help! He wants to do something! He thinks that if Plagg gives him all the information that Ladybug's being given, he may be able to find a solution and be a better and more useful Hero.

What else is he supposed to do right now? Jump in and fight Syren? I relegate you back to point #1! Think of a plan? He doesn't have all the information which is why he's trying to get Plagg to tell him!

3.) this is not the first time he's been relegated to uselessness.

Syren is early on but it's part of a long string of episodes painting Chat as very useless for anything other than Ladybug's emotional support cheerleader.

Adrien is making a point of how he isn't needed. Clearly! He can't do jack shit against this Akuma! He's just gonna sit on the rooftop looking pretty while Ladybug brings in yet another Hero to help where he can't. Chat is just one of many tools to her. What's the point of him when she has /better/ tools that are getting the job done and he's not even given basic respect?

4.) He's not even taking Chat Noir out of the equation.

Yes, Adrien threatens to quit as Chat. But he quite literally says why does it matter? Ladybug can just give the Miraculous to someone else! He doesn't matter! Not here, not in other fights! His presence means nothing to her outside of being a tool which can be replaced incredibly easily as shown with the other Heroes!

5.) This is not the first time Adrien has asked for answers!

Adrien has been begging everyone he can for more information in much nicer ways. But yes he finally hit a breaking point when it's thrown in his face how utterly he doesn't matter to the fight at all and all he can do is sit there and contemplate the situation instead of doing anything helpful because! Again! There's nothing for him to do! As the previous points show that fighting the Akuma is a bad idea and he can't make a better plan if he doesn't have more info!

It's not like he 'picked the worst time', he's been asking for a while now and is yet again asking and saying 'hey shits fucked I might be able to help if you tell me about it!!!"

All this to sum up is I want a genuine answer about what Adrien was supposed to do while Syren was happening that doesn't boil down to 'he should shut the fuck up about wanting to be an equal Hero Partner who is given info so he can handle things! How dare he want basic respect for the job he's doing! He should just sit and look pretty whule Ladybug handles everything until she needs her tool- i mean, until she needs him to use Cataclysm on something'.

[mayasdeluca]

Station 19 Season 7 Episode Info

7x01 ‘This Woman’s Work’ Written by: Henry Robles (5x05*, 5x17*, 6x02, 6x15*) Directed by: Paris Barclay (1x01, 1x02, 1x10, 2x01, 2x08, 2x17, 3x01, 3x02, 3x07*, 3x16, 4x01, 4x03*, 4x13, 4x16*, 5x13, 6x10*, 6x15*) Synopsis: Andy steps into the station's captaincy as Jack's life hangs in the balance. The team is called to a hostage situation. Natasha fights for her career, and Maya and Carina make a choice.

7x02 'Good Grief’ Written by: Meghann Plunkett (3x04, 3x12, 4x06*, 5x06, 5x15, 6x12) Directed by: Tessa Blake (2x03, 2x16, 3x06*, 5x11) Synopsis: Ben and Theo respond to a challenging Crisis One call, and Jack struggles adjusting to his new reality. Maya and Carina treat a nanny with a surprising diagnosis. Travis finds a surprise at Dixon’s wake, and Vic joins Beckett at a family funeral.

7x03 'True Colors' Written by: Staci Okunola (5x10, 5x17*, 6x09, 6x17) Directed by: Peter Paige (4x14*, 5x02, 5x08, 6x02, 6x07*) Synopsis: The Station 19 crew struts their stuff at the FABruary Winter Pride parade, where Maya encounters someone important from her past. Carina looks to Bailey for support, while Travis and Eli arrive at a crossroads.

7x04 'Trouble Man' Written by: Mellow Brown (6x05*) & Sybil Azur (new writer) Directed by: Stefania Spampinato (!!!!!!!!!!) Synopsis: The Station 19 team faces a grueling 24 hour shift that threatens to split them apart. Andy must make an impossible decision; and Maya and Carina navigate new parenthood.

7x05 (100th Episode) 'My Way' Written by: Emily Culver (4x10, 5x04, 5x09, 6x04, 6x16) & Alex Fernandez (6x10*) Directed by: Daryn Okada (2x10, 3x12, 4x12, 5x05, 5x15, 6x06) Synopsis: Andy Herrera earns her captain’s stripes as she fearlessly leads her team during a life-or-death emergency at Seattle’s most beloved landmark. Vic struggles with emotional burnout, and Maya helps Carina navigate some difficult news.

7x06 'With So Little To Be Sure Of' Written By: Rochelle Zimmerman (4x09, 4x15, 5x03*, 5x11, 5x16, 6x06, 6x11) Directed By: Boris Kodjoe Synopsis: With both Vic's job and Crisis One in jeopardy, a flashback shows how the program has changed the lives of the team and the local community. Meanwhile, Ben keeps a secret from Bailey.

7x07 'Give It All' Written By: Heidi-Marie Farren (new writer) & Leah Gonzalez (5x07*, 6x08, co-wrote 5x16, co-wrote 6x17) Directed By: David Greenspan (3x08*, 4x10, 5x07*, 6x13*) Synopsis: The crew responds to a call at a local park, only to have their assumptions challenged by the Tulalip Tribe when they arrive. Meanwhile, Maya confronts her past, and Carina goes on the offense.

7x08 'Ushers Of The New World' Written By: Shernold Edward (new writer) & Beresford Bennet (co-wrote 6x11) Directed By: Letia Solomon (new director) Synopsis: Station 19 uses its clinic to care for asylum seekers who have been bussed in from out of state. Meanwhile, Natasha gets a visit from her sister, and Vic receives surprising news.

7x09 'How Am I Supposed To Live Without You' Written By: Zaiver Sinnett (4x03, 4x15, 5x08, 5x14, 6x07*, 6x15*) Directed By: Tessa Blake (2x03, 2x16, 3x06*, 5x11, 7x02) Synopsis: When a wildfire threatens Seattle, the crew must jump into action to save their city. Meanwhile, as the station undergoes changes, Andy contemplates the future.

7x10 'One Last Time' Written By: Zoanne Clack (6x18*) Directed By: Peter Paige (4x14*, 5x02, 5x08, 6x02, 6x07*, 7x03) Synopsis: As Station 19 continues to battle an existential wildfire, the team grapples with the possibility of a future that will be changed forever.

(* = episode that includes multiple and/or good Marina scenes)

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Ramon Antonio Vargas at The Guardian (10.19.2024):

The former US marine Paul Whelan says basketball champion Brittney Griner provided “great help” to him by advocating for his freedom from Russian captivity after she was released. “Within days of her getting home, she was talking to people about how they could support me, and she had people making monetary donations, sending cards, sending letters, offering all sorts of support,” Whelan said in an interview being aired on CBS’s Face the Nation at 10.30am ET on Sunday. Whelan told the news program’s host, Margaret Brennan, that he became emotional when he saw Griner on television participating in the Paris Olympics upon his arrival at Maryland’s Joint Base Andrews after a complex prison exchange between Russia and the US resulted in his release. “It was one of those incredible moments when you’re … finally connecting things,” Whelan remarked in a clip previewing his conversation with Brennan, which was billed as his first news media interview since Russia released him.

Russia accused Whelan of being a spy and jailed him in December 2018 while he was traveling for a friend’s wedding. Though the US dismissed the allegations as bogus, Russia convicted Whelan and – in June 2020 – sentenced him to 16 years in prison. The fates of Whelan and Griner became tied to each other in February 2022, when the collegiate, WNBA and Olympic champion basketballer was arrested in Russia after agents allegedly found vape canisters with cannabis oil in her luggage as she traveled there to play during the American off-season. She later pleaded guilty to drug charges and received a nine-year prison sentence. However, in late 2022, the American government exchanged Russian arms dealer Viktor Bout as well as drug trafficker Konstantin Yaroshenko to get Griner and marine veteran Trevor Reed back to the US. The US said Russia refused to include Whelan in either deal.

Whelan later said that the US had “basically signed a death warrant” for him by twice agreeing to prisoner swaps that omitted him. Griner subsequently shouldered an active role in rallying support for other Americans detained in foreign countries. She has collaborated with Bring Our Families Home, a campaign launched in 2022 by the families of American hostages and detained persons wrongfully held overseas. And she has spoken multiple times with Joe Biden to ensure the president and others in important positions keep detainees in mind. In August, a deal among the US, Russia and five other countries resulted in Whelan being freed from Russian custody alongside Wall Street Journal reporter Evan Gershkovich, who had also been held on espionage charges that the American government deemed meritless. Griner hailed the releases of Whelan, Gershkovich and the others as “a great day”. When Whelan saw her on television after returning to the US, Griner had helped the American women’s basketball team defeat Belgium en route to what was her third consecutive Olympic gold medal with the group.

On CBS’s Face The Nation Sunday, Paul Whelan credited Brittney Griner for his help in returning to America.

From the 10.20.2024 edition of CBS's Face The Nation:

[dootznbootz]

hello hi hello i am here to hold out my little bowl and ask for a 'penelope abducted' snippet please

*coughs up blood and places strange, radioactive goop in your bowl* 🙃

I wouldn't say it's a snippet but it's more of a

SCRIPT

with some "writing" slapped in between. (there's a reason why I take forever to write things :'D Or then they end up like this)

I don't have a reason for Paris kidnapping Penelope, this is more to just explore characters and their emotions as I LOVE THAT SHIT. Honestly, this whole thing doesn't make too much sense plotwise lol. Don't think about the logical shit, JUST SIT BACK AND FEEL THINGS. This unedited af and it's basically first draft, so while I think the concepts are okay, the writing is sloppy.

This is a younger Hector, why he's a lil bit more unsure. Odysseus and Penelope are around 25-26. Telemachus isn't here yet. Realistically, Hector would be dead, but I REALLY want a certain conversation between them >:)

Honestly, writing this made me weirdly learn I write more/better when the text is smaller :P BUT I'm sorry anon, I'm sending out what I got when I didn't do that. as..you sent this a while back and I should get on it. I also tried not to "headhop" as I know that's "not a good writing habit" but oh my fuck. Take me outside and shoot me in the backyard. It's AGONY and feels so fucking BORINNNG to write. What's the point if I don't know every single DETAIL?!?!? kljhuytdfuyghk

ANYWAYS

Warnings: Miscarriage mention, violence.

Andromache whimpered as the man, Aethon of Same, he had called himself, pulled the knife closer to her throat. Smoke and screams sounded from outside as whatever godlike blasts went off once more as King Odysseus ran through Troy.

Hector felt anger and despair surge through him. For every blast, another sibling of the fifteen taken hostage dies. His throat burned.

(More stuff. Don’t wanna do now. Aethon pulls a "whoops. I missed." and cuts Andromache's collarbone to get Hector to comply.)

“I am without weapons, let her go now.”

Aethon nodded, only to push her into the arms of the other two men with him, held once more.

“You said you would-”

“Let her go? I did. She’s simply no longer held by me. You will guide us, and if you try to lead us astray, my soldiers here will not miss Lady Andromache’s throat like I did.”

“You are without honor! There is no reason to do this. I will show you to where Lady Penelope is, you didn’t need to take my wife-”

His words were cut off when a large hand cut off his words by grabbing his neck, the sounds becoming a squeak as it left his mouth.

Gray eyes burned into him as they got closer to his face. “There is no honor in kidnapping a queen while she recovers from a great pain either! Barely back on her feet and taken from her home.” Aethon hissed, trembling with a barely restrained rage. He breathed slowly, before letting go. “Simply repaying the favor...I will not repeat myself; You will show us where she is.”

Hector started to walk forward, restrained as he was. He remembers how Penelope spoke with such warmth for her husband. “Does your King approve of your methods?”

Aethon chuckled darkly, flicking the dagger between his fingers before tossing it to one of the men who held Hector. “Why do you think he sent me? Move along, Prince of Troy.”

(Stuff happens. Cassandra is muttering to everyone that no one will be hurt as long as they did as told, (no one believes her).One of Hector's brothers tries to step in only for Aethon to pull a one-punch-knock-out like he does with the Irus in the Odyssey as a beggar. One of Hector's sister-in-laws is naiad-born, he gives her a look, not realizing Aethon noticed her ears as well and is letting this happen. Aethon knows about Naiads just as much.)

Hector lifted his head as much as he could with how he was restrained, and gathered strength in his voice. “Lady Penelope! A man by the name of Aethon of Same is here to escort you!”

No reply. All that could be heard is more screams outside as another blast as loud as thunder went off. Another sibling is now dead. He tried to focus on the task.

The door was somehow blocked from the inside, despite how much she raged at being blocked in there by Paris himself. 

Hector started to shift his shoulders a bit. Fear gripped him as he glanced over to Andromache once more, still crying and bleeding from the wound on her collarbone. Her dress now sticking with red as blood seeped through. 

He looked forward again. “Lady Penelope,” Louder this time. “Are you in there?”

No reply. There seemed to be shuffling but he could not truly tell with how his ears were ringing.

Hector turned his head around to look at Aethon, the brutal man, hoping to make him understand that he was trying. That she should be here. 

From under one of his brother’s helm, sharp gray eyes flicked from the door back to Hector. His strong arms were tense as they crossed over his chest. It disturbed Hector how it fit him as if it were his own. A flash of light went across his hard face as another blast happened close by. He was unfazed

Hector was about to plead again, for the man to let Andromache go and take him if he felt the need before Aethon lifted a hand for him to be silent.

Aethon stood in front of the door then, eyes looking down towards the crack at the bottom of the doorway as he watched for movement. He frowned when there was nothing. He took a deep breath and leaned forward a slight bit, “Queen Penelope! We are here to take you home!”

A quick “Oh!” and a crash of pots sounded. 

Aethon’s eyes blazed and teeth gritted as he grabbed and rattled the door handle. “Penelope!”

He panted hard, the door handle now bent from his strength. He began to frantically throw his shoulder into the door, ramming himself and charging like that of an angered boar. 

“Penelope! Are you hurt?” His voice strained. Hector wonders if this man was related to Penelope in that he was so informal.

Another blast sounded and another shuffle and crash sounded from inside the room. Aethon swallowed a breath and he growled as he savagely rammed again. One hand going to undo the strap of the helm he wore, he pulled it off his head, revealing a tight braid of auburn curls on his head. Aethon began slamming the helm into the hinges of the door until one came off. The dented helmet in his hand, he once more barreled into the door. This time it worked. 

Aethon frantically looked around the room before an “Odysseus!” sounded from his left to which he turned swiftly to. 

The fear on Aethon's face turned to joy as he called her name back, lifting his arms to wherever she came from to pull her to him. Her bare feet dangled a short bit as she rested her chin on his shoulder and clung to him, before he sank to the ground. His knees barely missing the shattered pottery. A sob of relief escaped his lips as the lady kissed his face between comforting words.

It suddenly clicked into place. This wasn’t just a devoted captain to a king, this was a devoted husband. 

King Odysseus.

Hector could only watch in confused awe at the scene that unfolded. This man, this king, was weeping. To any outsider, it would look as though it was he who was being rescued. The strong shoulders that burst through the oaken door now shook with sobs. His fingers, ones that had bruised his own neck, were now caressing Penelope’s back, trembling as they combed through her hair. For her or his comfort, Hector did not know. 

Penelope soothed, a tearful smile on her face as she scratched at his scalp in small circles as he cradled her. “It’s okay, I’m here. I’m not hurt. He didn’t touch me”

A whimper escaped him. He lifted his head from her bosom and tears hung from his lashes. A hand, blood already dried from the broken jaw of Thoon, gingerly touched her abdomen.

Penelope’s face twisted up and more tears fell from her silver eyes as she told her husband something Hector couldn’t hear.

Hector realized that it had be begun to rain, what had soft pattering became a downpour, as though the couple’s tears had been what filled the clouds themselves. It put out the fires. 

“Andromache!” Penelope gave her husband a knowing yet disappointed look, a few surprised blinks from red rimmed eyes as a response. She took some raindrops on her fingertips from outside. “Let her go. Now.”

The men released Hector’s wife, who immediately went to touch the wound on her collarbone, wincing as she pressed her hand to it. Hector lunged from the men holding him only to be restrained further.

Penelope started to stand, only to be stopped by the shards that still littered the ground. Odysseus, his eyes and hands never leaving her, lifted her up as he walked across the room. The sandals on his feet protecting him.

Andromache shied away a bit before Penelope grabbed her hand as water went to her wound, sealing it as though it had never been there. 

Hector felt sharp eyes upon him and looked back at Odysseus. It…truly was hard seeing him as the same man who had cut Andromache. Once hard as flint gray eyes were now red from tears, calm and calculating. Two trails went down his ashen cheeks and revealed freckles Hector didn’t notice before.

Odysseus took Penelope’s hand and placed it on the collar of his armor for her to pull away. It now being pulled away, he easily reached in and grabbed a damp parchment. Sweat smudged it but it was clearly a map of Troy. Some circles on the map made Penelope shift and give her husband a questioning look only for him to shrug. She gave a glare, he responded with a smirk.

“Your siblings are still alive,” he started quietly. “I swear upon Almighty Zeus that your siblings are still alive upon the ship. At most some have a headache.” He gestured with his head towards the window, a curl that had been tucked by his wife fell from behind his ear with the movement. "If you want your siblings back, my men, my queen, and I will be treated as guests until we leave…after this storm ends, hopefully.”

Hector was about to yell, to call him a liar, before Penelope interrupted. “They are alive, Hector.”

Striking silver eyes were now piercing through him, though not cold, they didn’t hold the same warmth as before. Her cheeks still damp from tears yet her mouth set in a fine line. One hand reached up and held her husband’s face, who gazed at Hector with the same expression. 

Was this what Paris meant when he said that Lady Penelope should be nobody’s wife? The cruelty he spoke of...?

“The rain started as soon as we were reunited. The fires are put out by Lord Zeus... Hector, I would prefer if your siblings joined us with a feast.”

(More bickering talk shit. blahblahblah. Hector realizes that while Penelope was "nice" while in Troy, She does so many tricks that no one realizes, as she's trying to stay alive while waiting and Paris is scared of her as Aphrodite isn't here. Hector realizes that she's just as cold and that Odysseus is "just a guy" in way. Realistic? No. But I want Hector alive so then a certain convo can happen >:)

(Again, this is unedited. :'D so yeah. it's not great right now)

She sat up to look back at him, his eyes already looking watery still but she would let him decide if he would share with her or not. 

Penelope didn’t have to wait long as he relaxed his shoulders and took a deep breath, once more shoving his head under her neck, like how Anthos would shove her little body against Penelope’s for pets. 

Odysseus took peace in this silence, her chilled body against his own once more. Her being taken from him was a fear he had never experienced before. (more stuff)

“I hate that we're trapped here until...Whatever it is the gods want us here for is done."

"I know. We should be in our palace, in our nest...But we're together... And we have their favor as of now...They didn't even notice what we've taken yet."

Odysseus smirked, reassuring Penelope a little bit. She waited more for what was really bothering him. (more stuff)

"The Timing of everything…It frightens me.”

“Timing?” 

He nodded. “First, our…Our loss,” His voice cracking at the end, his warm palm pressed against her lower belly. She swallowed the lump in her throat, pushing her own pain down in hopes he would continue. 

“Then the Pirates, and then among them that…Paris, taking you away. I couldn’t hear the gods. I-” Tears started to spill now, finally flowing from the dam he had put up. “I am always so afraid of losing you after each loss. I never thought…I never thought I could ever possibly lose you like this. That the gods decided that I’ve caused enough pain and that you’d be best with another husband…”

(more sappy crying. When am I not making shit sappy and weepy?)

She chuckled, “You came with so few men and thought you had the gods against you and you still come to get me? You really are a silly man.”

Hector is alive for a conversation that will be better than this.

Hector watched as King Odysseus’ smile shined as he watched Lady Penelope race across the pasture; a request she had before they would leave.

Hector knew she had good horsemanship, remembering the day she first tried to leave for the shores only to be returned. But he was surprised the King of Ithaca agreed, even more that he wasn’t with her as well, as he has been woven to her side since he came. 

And Hector couldn’t help but be angry once more. 

How was this smiling, doting man the same man who terrorized his city?

“Spit it out.”

Odysseus still watched Penelope as she laughed as she rode one of Hector’s large dapple grays. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know what you’re thinking about. Spit it out.” 

Hector huffed and shook his head at the king. How could he even start?

“Even if the messenger you apparently sent did get to us, and we were too late, as you thought…Why was your first plan of action to terrorise us?”

Odysseus twisted a ring he had on his finger, seemingly amused by Hector’s question. “Prince Hector, I had to make sure you wouldn’t say no when I asked again.”

“Would you have even asked?” Hector hissed, bracing his shoulders a bit.

Odysseus chuckled. “You got me there.”

Hector seethed. “I will admit that Troy did the first offense and I am very grateful that everything went peacefully, but to retaliate to such extreme-”

“To even compare what your brother did to what I did is stupid,” His hands gripped the fencepost, knuckles white. “Be thankful Troy still stands, Son of Priam.”

Hector was taken aback by the venom in Odysseus’ voice, having not heard that since the very same white knuckled hands had held his throat…

Hector keeps forgetting Aethon and Odysseus are the same man.

Odysseus turned his head back around towards the pasture as he heard Penelope’s laughter, his shoulders easing as she raced by. 

“What would it take for you to do what I did, Prince Hector?”

“What?” 

Odysseus stood up straight, waiting until Hector looked back at him before he continued. “Maybe you wouldn’t be able to come up with the same plan,” -he ignored Hector’s rolling eyes- “But what would have to happen for you to ‘go mad’ as you said? I held back and you still think so lowly of me…Do you think you’re above it?”

Odysseus stood right in front of him, those flint eyes seeming to pry him open. “Or…Do you even know what would make you do that? Do you think you have something so important to you that you’d defy gods just to make things right again?” 

More (hopefully) quality stuff will replace this. But I LOVE the thought of Hector (and many of the Trojans) falling for the two's charms only to suddenly remember. "Wait...You guys are violent as fuck". Also How "Odysseus would sacrifice all of Ithaca for Penelope and Telemachus but I don't think Hector would do the same for Andromache and Astyanax" which klsjdf dklsjf kl FUCK YEAH. I SO BADLY WANNA COOK WITH THAT!!! I JUST NEED to get more good ingredients :'D

Notes/reasons/just more stuff

While I don't have a reason as to why Paris kidnapped her, I desperately didn't want Paris to TOUCH her as holy shit, I'm tired. So I had to think of something that was realistic that would make it so that he couldn't and well, Odypen already experience some miscarriages over the years and with the potential angst??? Yeah. :'D Also she scares Paris. He USED to have long hair. (Penelope doesn't have a goddess making her be nice)

Odysseus' plan is supposed to be sloppy kind of. I'm also not a fucking battle strategist. I'm making this up. He doesn't have a huge army and is so so terrified and angry. He basically rushes out (despite being told not to) on one of the pirates boats (undercover in a way). They DID send a messenger but we know he's violent. Basically a few of his men snuck into Troy and quickly stole some armor and snuck around using the fires (idk olive oil) as a distraction. Honestly he's fucking lucky. He's not the experienced and calm(ish) man he is in the Iliad and the Odyssey. His plan is relying mostly on fear.

Penelope did try to sneak out once on horseback and that's why she's like "I wanna do that again. I can't on Ithaca. I wanna have one more chance to do it"

I kind of plan for Penelope to kind of be seen as "kinder" and they use that to their advantage.

I kind of want Penelope and Hector/Andromache to bond over fertility problems as idk, drama and why she cares for them, AND they're barely at 2 years into their marriage and get SO MUCH more shit for it because... Priam is a fucking RABBIT of a man (no hate against him but Idk how tf he can MOVE. He is trying to create his own army)

I so desperately wanted to switch to Andromache's POV so often as I kind of want to compare the two couples and how they relate to one another. but that's the headhopping in me :'D O: We'll be leaving now. P: Not without compensation. Later on P: "YOu didn't see that amazing cauldron they have?!" O: "Penelope, I was a bit preoccupied and freaking out. Besides you were the treasure I needed to bring back home- OH MY GODS" P: I KNOW?!?! You're such a sweetie. 😘

Also Penelope, pulling some jewelry out: I grabbed these. I think this one will fit your middle finger. Odysseus, 🥹: Penelope, you are what it means to adore.

Anon, I'm sorry it's not really a snippet but I hope you still enjoyed :'D Sorry about the radiation I put in your bowl 😅

[hellishere7980]

IMW Chapter 13

Batman had seen a lot of great warriors and fighters in his career as a vigilante. He fought alongside many of them in the Justice League, and had fought against many others, and through all of that experience he was able to give an estimate on how skilled someone was by watching a single fight. Batman could confidently say that this heroine was on par with himself. Batman hadn’t had time to think and process it before the Watchtower delved into chaos once more and he snapped, telling everyone to be quiet and focus on the information. They would have time to talk about it all at the end but understanding everything was more important at the moment. The Flash snickered to break the silence, making a smart-ass comment about how he must not know anything about the Paris situation compared to them considering he was being “a grump” and Batman only had to send the metahuman a glare for the hero to stop talking. The Flash was right, he didn’t have a clue what was going on and he wanted to know everything before they discussed it, but he wasn’t about to tell any of them that. After this, it showed a news broadcast in which Lady Miracle declared her new persona and revealed that Paris was free of Hawkmoth, Mayura and Shadowmoth's reign of terror. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After the Justice League meeting winded up, it was decided that Wonder Woman would reach out to Lady Miracle to see how to proceed afterwards. All the magical users of the JL were excited and desperate to meet Lady Miracle since her magic was ancient and concerningly bottomless.

The Bats returned to the cave. Dick and Jason turned towards Bruce. Jason- YOU SHIPPED HER OFF TO KEEP HER SAFE AND SHE HAS BEEN HELD HOSTAGE BY A TERRORIST!

Dick- YOU SAID YOU WERE KEEPING AN EYE ON HER! Bruce, we trusted you to keep Isabella safe. You sent her away, but instead of protecting her, she was thrown into a warzone. How could you let this happen?

Bruce- Richard, I thought it was for the best. I wanted to shield her from the darkness that consumes our lives. I made a grave mistake.

Jason- GRAVE MISTAKE, MY FOOT! YOU HEARD WHAT THEY SAID, PEOPLE HAVE DIED! SHE HAS DIED! BROUGHT BACK TO LIFE AND DIED AGAIN! YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE BUT I DO! You call yourself a protector, but you left Isabella vulnerable. She should have been under our watch, not left to FEND FOR HERSELF! And you saw the court proceedings too! YOU SAW HOW THAT SADISTIS TARGETED HER, STALKED HER, MADE HER LIFE HELL!! DEMON-SPAWN TELL ME IF SOMEONE TORE UP YOUR SKETCHBOOK WHAT WOULD YOU DO? Damian (calmly)- Stab them and assure them that they do not need their limbs so much. Jason- SEE! SHE HAD HER ENTIRE WORKS SABOTAGED! SHE WAS BULLIED AND DID NOT GET AKUMATIZED ONCE! YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS? SHE LOCKED HER EMOTIONS AWAY JUST LIKE WE ALL DID EVEN MORE SO!

Damian- Father, who is this Isabella?

Bruce sighed heavily- Isabella is my daughter, born out of a past relationship. I kept her hidden, thinking it would keep her safe.

Jason- We ALL saw how that turned out.

Damian- Father, I am your true son, yet you sent away this Isabella? Why?

Jason- ‘cuz he is a DOUCHEBAG! I’m going out for some air.

Dick- Me too

Jason/Dick’s POV His little sister had died. She had DIED! The whole point of staying away and making sure no one could ever connect with them, was to ensure her safety. Instead she had died! She had died repeatedly, and he had been none the wiser. She had died, and HE HADN’T BEEN THERE! She had been hurt, and he hadn't protected her. She had suffered. His stomach twisted at the thought, as the bitter thoughts of self loathing threatened the pit madness again. He could already see the tinge of green creeping into his vision.

After Bruce left in a hurry, Alfred explained it all. Isabella or as Alfred liked to call her- Miss Bella was the biological daughter of Bruce. As long as she was here, she was kept within the confinements of the Wayne Manor despite everyone but Bruce’s views. She was however shipped off to Paris without any forewarning when Jason died, was not allowed to attend his funeral and in their opinions, horribly treated by Bruce.

When Bruce returned, he looked like he had been crying. He turned to Tim.

B- Please find her.

Tim sighed.

All of them surrounded Tim as he sat down in front of the Bat-computer and started searching. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. They found basic school records and stuff and soon a court recording came up. And a new link towards Marinette Luscinia.

Dick- What the hell is this?

Tim- It looks like… A COURT SUIT?! Jason- WTF!? Tim- Lemme pull up a summary. … … … After 2 hours of pure research and horror. Alarm sounds in the cave. Computer Voice- Justice League meeting now. Wonder Woman is returning to the Watchtower with Lady Miracle. Bruce- We will get back to this when we return.

Watchtower All the league members arrived and stood according to their ranks in the main room. Lady Miracle’s power, her magic filled the room. Every eye within the room turned to them as they emerged from the portal. Wonder Woman went and stood with the JL. Lady Miracle’s magic flowed around them like a breeze that whispered through the Watchtower. The woman stood strong in armour, lined in black. It was cut for easy movement, and fitted to accentuate the woman's form. Her suit revealed the slight but hard muscle of her arms. The base layer was scaled fabric of black and gold that shimmered metallic in the light. But it moved with the woman, like a second skin, as she stepped forward in armoured boots, also of black. The woman's features were hidden by black mask lined with gold that covered half of her face. Her midnight black hair was pulled back. However, what they found the most hypnotic was her eyes. They practically glowed inside her dark mask. Like sapphires tinted with gold sparks. She walked towards them with confidence. Superman stepped forward.

Superman- Greetings Lady Miracle!

Lady Miracle- Bonjour Superman. Wonder Woman stated you wanted to talk about the events that transpired in Paris?

Superman- Indeed.

Lady Miracle- Very well. You may ask your questions.

Superman- Do you mind carrying this discussion in the meeting room?

Lady Miracle- Not at all.

All the leaguers and Lady Miracle proceeded to the meeting room. After taking their seats, Batman began.

Batman- Lady Miracle we wish to know your account of what happened in Paris all these years first and then, we can move on to the other questions?

Lady Miracle- If that is what you want.

Martian Manhunter- When and how did you get your Miraculous?

Lady Miracle- I got my miraculous on the day Stoneheart attacked. I was just an untrained civilian. I *deep breath in* was a terrified little girl who was told that it had to be me no matter how much I disagreed. Previously I was told that I was not cut out to be a hero. So, that contrasted *chuckle* I didn’t have training. I didn’t have a mentor and I was a clumsy, anxious thirteen-year-old. I didn’t meet the Grand Guardian until months later when I was already established and trusted by the people of Paris. I had to make a decision to be Ladybug or let someone die, and I chose the former. I don’t regret my decision. I knew I had made the right choice as I stood against Hawkmoth on the Eiffel Tower, but a thirteen-year-old should never have been forced to make that decision.

Red Hood- Who would be stupid enough to tell you that you can't be a hero? You totally rocked out there!

Lady Miracle- You would be surprised.

Zatana- Could you explain the powers of the miraculous more? Majority of the magical users here have been told that they were a myth.

Lady Miracle- The universe with the creation of the Kwami of Creation, my first Kwami, Tikki. It was followed by her counterpart, the Kwami of Destruction, Plagg. After them came the Kwami of Time and Evolution, Fluff and with her birth, time was also born. The other Kwami’s followed afterwards. Kwami are proper gods or concepts. For millennials they existed peacefully. Each Kwami gave rise to their creations and blessed souls. These souls held a part of the Kwami’s themselves called their Chosens. I am one of them. I will get back to that later. As time went on a True Guardian bound these gods on their demands to pieces of jewellery thus, the miraculous came into existence. Then he fell in love and started a family on Earth, as he swore to protect the miraculous, the miraculous were grouped into miracle boxes, the most powerful being the mother miracle box. The one in my possession. It holds the kwami’s of Creation, Destruction, Action, Illusion, Protection, Emotion, Transmission, Time and Evolution, Repetition, etc.

There was silence within the Watchtower as the Justice League and Young Justice, all of the leaguers sat mystified by the knowledge and the younger ones were openly gaping.

[streets-in-paradise]

The Curse of Poseidon - Paris x Helen Merman AU

Troy (2004) Oneshot

Requested by @blackheart-beauty

Word Count 2 K

Warnings: Implied smut. Merman AU. Movie canon divergences, Paris travelled to Sparta without Hector ( like it happened in the og story). Agamemnon and Menelaus seek to exploit the protectiveness Priam shows towards Paris for their own benefict. Greek mythology adapted narratively as source to build the merpeople lore. Inversion of the mythical Paris vs Menelaus dynamic where the king becomes the transgresor of xenia by purposely damaging his guest.

Summary: King Menelaus wants to make peace with Troy, but his brother has other plans and under the pretext of a diplomatic visit Prince Paris gets kidnapped as a very misguided attempt to get Troy under control. However, the plan of the Atreides finds a very unexpected flaw in the most guarded family secret of the line of Laomedon and its up to Queen Helen to discover it.

Note: Sorry this is coming hiper late, it took me a while untill going back to it. Thank you for your super patience and hope this has turned out as you wanted it :)

After decades of failed incursions and pointless hostility, the Atreides’ opinion on what to do with Troy was divided. The eldest wanted to insist on a military conquest of the enemy territory to the last greek breath, while the youngest was growing sick of the situation and desired to make peace. King Nestor of Pylos, the arbitrator between both, managed to conciliate their viewpoints proposing them to ideate a strategy that could possibly mix threatening force and diplomacy. 

Unfortunately, the brothers came up with the most terrible combination. Simulating the proximity of surrender, the spartan king convocated a representative of the asian royal house to discuss the terms perfectly aware that Prince Paris would be the chosen one. Greeks weren’t the only rivals of Priam and it was well known that his heir was dedicating his life to keep their borders safe, leaving the younger brother as the only possible candidate and perfect target. The rumors that lingered on greek shores proclaimed him the useless member of the royal family, a naive hedonist living for fun under the protection of his father’s power. Still, it was easy to infer that such incommensurable spoiling had to come from the deep appreciation Priam had for him. Perhaps not the favorite of the kingdom, but tenderly beloved by his father, Paris was pivotal to break the will of the trojan leaders starting with an emotional manipulation of the king. 

The prince fell like a fish in the net, a false pirate attack by disguised mycenaean soldiers ordered by Agamemnon took him away from the defense of his companions and when the few survivors arrived in Sparta with him they were all taken prisoners. While Paris remained in full custody of the king, some of the others were sent back to communicate the news to Priam. His son was a hostage in the spartan palace and the demanded price for his freedom was his scepter and the sword of the brother. Paris would be restored once trojans would submit to the mycenaeans and accept Agamemnon’s command of fighting for him whenever called. 

It was the perfect plan in the mindset of two brothers capable of doing anything for each other. Testing the love of the family promised to be more effective than keeping measuring the strength of their army and stumbling upon the unassailable walls of Troy. However, when the news began to spread all over the country other greek voices manifested concern. Tireless guardian of greek domestic diplomacy, Odysseus called the insane scheme a misguided attempt led by prideful desperation. Although trojans tended to prefer peaceful routes for conflict solving, their army wasn’t remarkable in vain. Thinking of an easy way to achieve their ambitions, the Atreides risked the possibility of bringing the powerful trojan fleet to their domains and into the heart of Greece. Winning over the prisoner prince hoping he would contribute to the containment of the situation was the only shot to prevent the inevitable backlash. 

Fortunately, the king was heard and some of his recommendations were followed. Paris was receiving treatment of guest within the limits established by his captivity. He was also allowed to enjoy the company of Queen Helen, a kind figure meant to evoke positive feelings in him and possibly facilitate his cooperation. That was perhaps the instruction Menelaus showed himself more reluctant of, but the ithacan instructed her directly to secretly disobey her husband if it was necessary. To the king he only revealed surface lies, leaving her in true command of her part. He told her to seek a true connection with him deep beyond the basic kindness barrier, to be his only friend during the times of hardship creating in him a sense of loyalty to her that could protect all greeks if war would reach their shores. 

No one could have possibly prepared her for what she would discover in him. More than a friend, or a mere confidant; her moments to be with Paris became the highlight of her days. She could tell it was the same for him, his face transformed around her and the sorrows would disappear to manifest a pure enlightenment. They were falling in love, finding mutual shelter in an imprisonment that felt shared. Ever since she married the spartan king no one had possibly understood her as well as him, the prince was a partner to share her life with during her formally acceptable captivity. 

The first time he stole a sweet untimely kiss from her was more worth living than full years alongside her husband, it went far over from just making things bearable. He felt it too and seeing his growing feelings required inspired him to indulge her with a dangerous confession even more reckless than his love. 

“ Helen, I love you, but there is something you have to know about me before deciding if you can truly bless me with your affection.” He sentenced, self restraining his passion. “ A dark secret seals my fate and it shouldn’t have surprised me that disgrace has followed me crossing the sea. Only Aphrodite has been merciful when she put you in the way of my suffering.” 

The queen smiled and caressed his face. 

“ My fate is sealed and forever tangled with yours, my love. Whatever this means, I will gladly share it with you and keep it well hidden.” 

He gave her a half smile, keeping himself hopeful before announcing a cryptic message within a subtle instruction. 

“ I have been cursed from birth, ...  only the touch of the sea reveals it. “ 

He didn’t have to explain further for Helen to put hands at work, since she quickly came up with an idea to satisfy her lover’s request of testing the supposed curse. She told her husband that Paris commented with sadness about his impossibility to bathe in the sea, traditional custom of the trojans, and the response of Menelaus was making servants carry marine water from the nearest shore available into the palace as an ironic mock for him. Under his expressed command they filled a pool with the salt water in a painfully laborious task designed essentially as a power imbalance based prank to emphasize the duality of Paris’ condition as a restrained guest. 

When the slaves finished the work, Helen was left to play a parody of a traditional hostess meant to watch over the bath. It was exactly what she wanted and she obtained it easily because she knew her husband better than what he could ever imagine she did. 

Paris contemplated the water with unusual nervousy, which she found quite adorable on his part. The fright in his face satisfied Menelaus enough to leave them alone, but he could have never possibly known that it wasn’t inspired by him. Fear of rejection, sorrow to the idea of losing the only comfort fate had left for him while also knowing that he owed his beloved complete honesty on the important matter. It was part of who he was, dreaded perhaps, but it had to be revealed. 

She offered him help to remove his clothes, but he declined and quickly did it on his own as she sat at the edge of the pool. Immediately afterwards he smirked at her from afar and dove. Her eyes went wide and not only for observing the incredible beauty of the sweet trojan prisoner, but due to the exposing action of the water in him. Paris swam towards her, but only the upper side of his body remained as the man she knew. The rest of him was completely transformed, with bright blue scales instead of skin and a fishtail replacing his legs. Seeing that her shock didn’t look like disgust encouraged him and he positioned himself right in front of her, observing her expression with equal curiosity. 

“ This is who I become when my skin feels the contact with the domain of Poseidon. The sea awakens it. I managed to reach your shores as a man only because I was struggling to keep myself dry from the water surrounding me.” He began to explain to her. “  It’s a bloodline curse, everyone in my family has suffered from it since the times of the foundation of Troy. “ 

“ It’s nothing to be ashamed of, it's said that Menelaus’ family was also cursed by the unspeakable crimes of his ancestors. “ She attempted to comfort him, still in awe. “ Tantalus killed his son and fed the gods with his flesh to test their omniscience. I doubt that whatever yours did could be worse than that.” 

He chuckled and leaned his elbows against the marble at the edge of the pool, right next to her sitting spot. 

“ He refused to pay for the construction of our walls. I guess you must have heard my city is a famous fortress, but nobody told you how the fortification was built.” He continued, adopting the demeanor of a tale narrator. “ Legend claims Zeus sentenced Apollo and Poseidon to serve the trojan crown as punishment for conspiring against him. They were slaves of the king for seven years and in that lapsus they built the walls, but when the time was over they reclaimed payment for that particular work. The king refused and the god of the sea took his revenge cursing his entire bloodline. An eye for an eye: since he served as slave of the trojan royals they would become his slaves. That’s why we all become merpeople when his water gets to touch us. Despite he commands all sources of water, we remain slaves only of the sea."

" It's beautifull … for a curse. " She purred with admiration. " Tantalus' curse turns his descendants into murderers of their children, what you have in comparison is a beautifull miracle. "

The illusion in his eyes was making her heart melt.

" Do you really think that?"

She began to play with the wet strands of his hair.

" I do. You are even more beautifull to me ríght now than what you were when you arrived to my palace. "

His lips parted in adoration while listening to her.

" … A handsome merman prince, the love of my life. "

Paris felt an insane amount of gratitude that he couldn't even put into clear words. No one had ever made him feel so happy about the curse conditionating his lifetime, so bright and loved that he felt his heart about to explode inside his chest.

The most beautifull woman in the world, flawless judge for his monstruousity, dictaminated him worthy of her love. His silence began to worry her, but it didn't last for long.

The prince began to roam her exposed leg with his lips, tracing a path of kisses while the tips of her toes were still touching the water. The imaginary road had only one possible clear destiny and she closed her eyes for a brief instant when she felt him reaching her thight.

It made him stop, and the sudden interrumption got her eyes back on him to discover an inquisitive stare.

" Don't you want to look at me?" He asked her with naive sounding sweetness. " You made me feel blessed and now i just want to make you feel good. "

She giggled in approbation and his inmediate response was burying his head searching for the sweet spot between her legs.

It made her feel like a virgin, exposed and vulnerable to the fact that no one had ever pleased her like that. All his lovefull devotion was being expressed in such intense act and she couldn't even gift him a full loud moan on fear of being discovered.

Her legs were shaking, feet touching the water causing a bit of splashing following his rhytm and with that he was perfectly satisfied.

[josefavomjaaga]

Hi, i have seen in one of your posts that once Napoleon intended to take Eugene's family hostage. Why was that? Their relationship is always potrayed as good so why would be plan to threaten his stepson. I always had a feeling that napoleon's relationship with his stepkids are not as amazing as potrayed

(Now look at me. Barely three weeks have passed, and I'm already getting back to you... I'm sorry. I suck.)

I've written a bit about this before, so with your permission, I will mostly summarize and link to older posts for the details.

For context: This happened in late February 1814, with allied forces invading both France (where Napoleon was) and Italy (that Eugène obstinately had refused to leave). But it goes back to autumn 1813, when German newspapers openly started to speculate about Napoleon's two "Italians" - Murat in Naples and Eugène in Milan - both abandonning Napoleon and joining the Allies.

To some degree, spreading such rumours surely was a deliberate political move, an attempt to sow distrust among the enemy. (And it worked. Hortense already wrote about offers being made to Eugène weeks before he actually received them...) But to some degree, they were based on facts. Murat really was negotiating with the Austrians and would come to an agreement with them. And after the Battle of Leipzig in October 1813, Eugène's father in law King Max of Bavaria had spoken very much in favour of his son-in-law and tried to score a few points for him with the Allies. Resulting in the offer made to Eugène in November 1813 ("leave Napoleon, get a crown!") that Eugène, however, refused.

But the distrust in the French camp seems to have been very real. In some aspects, Eugène may have looked like the most likely candidate to leave Napoleon's side:

Napoleon had dumped Josephine.

Napoleon had broken his promise to make Eugène the heir to the Kingdom of Italy.

Eugène had been very irritated about the way Napoleon critisized his actions in Germany in spring 1813.

Eugène was related to one of the monarchs in the Allied camp, even best buddies with his father-in-law, and likely to be received well among the Allies, probably better than Murat.

So when Eugène did not immediately follow Napoleon's order to evacuate Italy (no matter his reasons), Napoleon already felt the need to bring out the heavy emotional artillery: Both Josephine and Hortense were told to write to Eugène and to tell him to obey to this order (an order that neither of the two ladies had any knowledge of, by the way). This in turn wounded Eugène deeply; he felt that, while he was doing everything in his power to help Napoleon, and refusing very real advantages offered to him for the sake of loyalty, he met with nothing but distrust and ingratitude.

So, Napoleon in Paris thought: "The boy is up to something down there in Milan, he's going his own ways, I cannot control him as I would love to." And Eugène in Milan thought: "The Emperor is ungrateful, and no matter what I do and how often I prove my loyalty to him, he will never believe me, let alone thank me for anything I do."

Let's add that Auguste, Eugène's beloved wife, was pregnant again. And briefly after the letters Josephine and Hortense had written to him, that he clearly saw as a sign of Napoleon's distrust, Eugène received the following missive from his Imperial stepfather:

Napoleon to Eugène. Château de Surville close to Montereau. February 19, 1814 My son, the vice queen must immediately go to Paris for her delivery; my intention being that under no circumstances she should remain in a country occupied by the enemy: therefore, make her leave immediately. [...]

Frankly, when I read that order in the course of Eugène's correspondence, right after the incidents explained above, my first understanding was precisely like theirs: that Napoleon wanted to get a hold of Auguste and the children, in order to assure Eugène's obedience.

If that really was Napoleon's intention? I do not know. Quite possibly not. He was always telling women to come to Paris in order to have their babies. Josephine and Hortense had already asked if Auguste would leave endangered Italy and come to Paris. But such an explicit and abrupt order, in that tense situation, did indeed look like a threat. Plus, Eugène and Auguste may have had a bit of a bad conscience, too, as Eugène had contacted the Austrians and asked them to guarantee the personal security of his family in case something happened to him - and that was something he apparently had not told Napoleon about. Napoleon most likely had learned of it anyway.

Anyway, this resulted in an exasperated Auguste writing a letter to Napoleon, in which she finally allowed herself to let loose all her grievances against him, on behalf of herself and on behalf of her husband. I have quoted it in full in the course of this post. Here are some highlights:

Auguste to Napoleon. Milan, February 27, 1814. Sire, Eugène has just communicated to me the order given to him by Your Majesty: it surprised me greatly, for I did not expect that after all the proofs of attachment Eugène never ceases to give you, you would also demand of him to risk the health and even the life of his wife and children, the only asset and consolation he has in this world. If he does not speak on this occasion, it is for me to do so.

("If he doesn't speak up on this occasion" - insert a slightly annoyed "as usual" 😁.)

Without doubt I know his and my duties towards Your Majesty. We have demonstrated this to you often enough, and we have never failed to do so; our conduct is known to all; we do not resort to intrigue, and we have no other guides than honour and virtue. It is a sad fact that our reward has been nothing but sorrow and mortification [...] What have I done to deserve such a harsh order of departure? When I got married, I never thought that things would come to this. [...]

Remember all the bullshit you promised me in Munich in 1806? Well, I do!

In spite of this I will obey your orders, I will leave Milan if the enemies should come here; but my duty, my heart, makes it a law not to leave my husband, and, since you demand that I risk my health, I want at least to have the consolation of ending my days in the arms of the one who possesses all my tenderness and who makes all my happiness. Whatever his fate will be, I will share it, and it will always be worthy of envy, since we will be able to say to each other that we have deserved a happier one, and that we will have a conscience without reproach. [...]

Napoleon's reaction to this missive (and a similar from Eugène) seems genuinely confused (see the link above) - "What's up with you two? What have I done this time? All I said was: Come to Paris!" - so maybe he really never had the intention Auguste and Eugène read in this order.

But who knows. If there was ever a human who qualified as a "political animal", it was Napoleon.

I hope this is still of interest to you after all the time it took me to come up with this answer, and thank you once more for your interest in "the boy".

[marjaystuff]

Guest Review: Embers in the London Sky by Sarah Sundin

Revell Pub

Feb 6th, 2023

Embers In The London Sky by Sarah Sundin is a very riveting and compelling novel.  In many ways it is relatable to what is going on today.  Sundin takes readers on a journey along with the characters and they experience all the emotions. 

“While I was researching Until Leaves Fall in Paris I read how the refugees fled from the Nazi armies in Belgium, Netherlands, and France. There were over a million on the road where some thrust their children into cars, figuring they would have a better chance than on foot. After the exodus they could not find their children and read about the many classified ads looking for their children.  This broke my heart. I used this to write the story.”

As the German army invades the Netherlands in 1940, Aleida van der Zee Martens escapes to London to wait out the Occupation. Separated from her three-year-old son, Theo, in the process, the young widow desperately searches for her child, while working for an agency responsible for evacuating children to the countryside.

“Aleida has an abusive husband who is ashamed of their three-year-old boy because he is missing some fingers. She lost her son when her husband thrust the child into a passing car while she was sleeping. Her husband dies in an air raid before he can tell her who has the child, so she has become very anxious. She is quiet, controlling, determined, and direct. Aleida is also intense, persistent, and wounded.” When German bombs set London ablaze, BBC radio correspondent Hugh Collingwood reports on the Blitz, eager to boost morale while walking the fine line between truth and censorship. But the Germans are not the only ones Londoners have to fear as a series of murders flame up amid the ashes. 

“After the bombs started falling some parents still said no because they were being asked to send their child to a place they have never been, with people they did not know.  That takes an incredible amount of trust.  Then there were the children sent away with some who had a great experience because of the kind and understanding foster-type parents they stayed with. But there were others who had issues because they were urban children, many from the lower classes being sent into a rural middle-class environment. They had culture shock not to mention neglect and abuse, fortunately less common.” 

The deaths hit close to home for Hugh, and Aleida needs his help to locate her missing son. As they work together, they grow closer and closer, both to each other and the answers they seek. But with bombs falling and continued killings, they may be running out of time.

This is a compelling and riveting story.  It is relevant today as those families still search and hope for a reunion with their loved ones who were taken hostage by Hamas.

[usmaradiomagazine]

🔴 𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐈𝐑 - Tuesday 6 February at 7:00 pm (CET) on usmaradio.org

𝟭𝟲𝟱: 𝗙𝗹𝗼𝘆𝗞𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵𝗶 𝗙𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗚𝗮𝘇𝗮_𝗣𝗿𝗼𝘅𝘆𝟰𝟬𝟰 [59 min] Two shows produced by radioart106 for the radia.fm network and a short break between the two containing sounds from demonstrations in Israel calling to stop the war on Gaza.

Floy Krouchi  Voices in my head  (in a no man's land) 2022  (electronics, voices, transformed field recordings)

"A dry landscape of rocky mountains, transforming slowly into a pure white desert. No water, 

No trees around, one floor's beduins habitations, campement for the goats, under the strinking sun.

The road belong to the Power but the landscape belongs to the people, to the rocks, to the sand...

We have left the flags in No Man's Land" 

Floy Krouchi  is a sound artist, composer and bass player from Paris, with mixed origins. She exclusively used her voice as the material for this piece, together with sounds recorded, generated and transformed in the so called "Holy Land" during various stays. The plurality of registers of the same voice, from melody to pure some objects or noises  is used as a metaphor of the complexity of identity. 

Free Jerusalem, Radical Bloc, Anti Occupation Bloc

Snippets from demonstrations with police brutality in Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. Calling to stop the genocide, lift the siege, immediate and permanent ceasefire, hostage deal, end the occupation, and free Palestine. January 2024.

@free_jlm @radical.bloc.tlv

Proxy_404 Midnight Echoes:  A Sonic Journey Through Overthinking 2023

Midnight Echoes explores the theme of overthinking in silence, delving into the sounds that haunt restless nights. It combines samples, field recordings and experimental techniques on DJ decks. The piece consists of four parts, each representing different aspects of overthinking. The first section sets the foundation of the piece, representing the hypnagogic state as fragmented memories and snippets of conversations. The insomnia presents itself in the second section that delves into an inner monologue, where racing thoughts and self-doubt intertwine. The soundscapes transition between calm moments of introspection and frenetic bursts of chaotic energy, reflecting the ebb and flow of overthinking. Sonic elements overlap and collide and heighten the sense of restlessness until the final section introduces a shift towards tranquility. The journey transitions from dissonance to harmony and ends in acceptance and finding peace within the chaos of overthinking. 

The overall aim is to offer a cathartic and introspective experience, inviting listeners to confront their own inner dialogues and find solace within the power of sound. 

proxy_404 is a multifaceted artist hailing from Berlin, Germany, with a captivating blend of Ukrainian-Russian and Turkish heritage. As a psychotherapist, DJ, radio host, and community events organizer, they find inspiration in the intricate workings of the mind and the depths of human emotions. proxy_404 fearlessly explores music, pushing boundaries and embracing experimentation. Their sonic landscapes resonate with raw emotion, thriving on the unexpected and the beauty of imperfections. As a DJ, their carefully curated sets transcend genres, captivating audiences with thought-provoking experiences. Their role as a radio host extends their reach, sharing diverse shows and fostering a supportive community. As a psychotherapist, proxy_404 navigates emotions, providing a safe space for exploration and healing. Their art and community work combine music, psychology, and human connection, continuously challenging conventional norms to inspire personal and collective growth.

@linktr.ee/proxy_404 ↪ Radioart106 explores radiophonic works of worldwide radio artists. Radio art is a subset of Sound art where radio art is produced for the medium of radio and is specifically intended for broadcast. A new radio work will be aired every first Tuesday of the month at 7:00 pm CET on usmaradio.org

[newstfionline]

Tuesday, October 24, 2023

Americans, Weary of Foreign Conflicts, Face Another (NYT) Since the Hamas attack on Israeli citizens two weeks ago and Israel’s subsequent bombing campaign on Gaza, protesters have flooded American streets. Emotional debates have deeply unsettled Jewish and Palestinian communities here and divided college campuses. Threats against synagogues and mosques have spiked, and a 6-year-old Palestinian-American boy in Chicago was stabbed to death. In a poll released by Quinnipiac on Tuesday, nearly two-thirds of voters said supporting Ukraine was in the national interest, and more than three-quarters felt that way about supporting Israel. But in dozens of interviews in key swing states, many also expressed trepidation as they considered the widening conflicts in the Middle East and Europe. Some questioned how deeply the country should be involved. Disgusted with the political process and chastened by a chaotic withdrawal from a bruising 20-year war, many said their impulse was to turn inward, away from mounting international tensions and toward problems, such as inflation, that are closer to home.

The 100-year-old railway Mexico hopes will rival the Panama Canal (The Week) The Mexican government is reviving a century-old railway line between the Gulf of Mexico and the Pacific Ocean, in the hope that the route can one day rival the Panama Canal. The restoration is part of a “bold bid to steal container traffic” away from the waterway, said the Financial Times. The project “seeks to capitalise on multinationals’ desire to be closer to the US” as well as the periods of low water levels in the Panama Canal as the region suffers “increasingly frequent droughts”, said the paper. The interoceanic railway will run for 303km across Mexico’s narrowest point, with the main line running between the port cities of Salina Cruz, Oaxaca, and Coatzacoalcos, Veracruz. The revival of the railway line means that a ship could “unload its cargo from one side, send it by rail across the Isthmus, and reload it back onto another ship on the other side”, thereby providing a new route through which international freight could flow, explained Mexico News Daily.

European cities see vigils to oppose antisemitism and rallies seeking relief for Gaza (AP) Thousands of people joined vigils in Berlin and London on Sunday to oppose antisemitism and support Israel, while in Paris and other cities, thousands of pro-Palestinian demonstrators demanded a cease-fire and relief for people in the besieged Gaza Strip. Some of those who gathered in front of Berlin’s Brandenburg Gate carried Israeli flags or posters with photos of some of the more than 200 people seized by Hamas as hostages during the militants’ deadly Oct. 7 incursion into Israel. “It is unbearable that Jews are living in fear again today—in our country of all places,” President Frank-Walter Steinmeier told the crowd, estimated at 20,000 by organizers and 10,000 by police. “Every single attack on Jews, on Jewish institutions is a disgrace for Germany. Every single attack fills me with shame and anger.” Sunday’s rallies came a day after tens of thousands of pro-Palestinian demonstrators—100,000 by police estimates—marched through the British capital to demand Israel stop its bombardment of Gaza, launched in response to Hamas’ brutal incursion.

China crackdown on cyber scams in Southeast Asia nets thousands but leaves networks intact (AP) Zhang Hongliang, a former restaurant manager in central China, took various gigs in and outside China to support his family after losing his job during the COVID-19 pandemic. In March, a job offer to teach Chinese cooking at a restaurant led him into a cyber scam compound in Myanmar, where he was instead ordered to lure Chinese into giving up their savings for fake investment schemes via social media platforms. Zhang is one of tens of thousands of people, mostly but not all Chinese, who have become ensnared in cyber scam networks run by powerful Chinese criminal syndicates in Southeast Asia. Regional and Chinese authorities have netted thousands of people in a crackdown, but experts say they are failing to root out the local elites and criminal networks that are bound to keep running the schemes. When scam operations are shut down in one place they often just resurface elsewhere. The problem is an embarrassment for Beijing.

Iranian teenager Armita Geravand is 'brain dead': state media (Reuters) A teenage Iranian girl, who fell into a coma earlier this month following an alleged encounter with officers over violating the country's hijab law, is said to be "brain dead", Iranian state media reported on Sunday. There have been concerns by rights advocates that 16-year-old Armita Geravand might face the same fate as Mahsa Amini, whose death in the custody of morality police last year sparked months of nationwide anti-government protests that posed one of the boldest challenges to Iran's clerical rulers. Iran has denied that Geravand was hurt after a confrontation on Oct. 1 with officers enforcing the mandatory Islamic dress code in the Tehran metro. Iran's theocratic establishment has imposed restrictions on women's dress since a popular revolution deposed the secular and Western-backed Shah in 1979. Women are required by law to cover their hair and wear long, loose-fitting clothes. Violators face public rebuke, fines or arrest.

Hezbollah and Israel exchange fire and warnings of a widened war (AP) Hezbollah announced the deaths of five more militants as clashes along the Lebanon-Israel border intensified and the Israeli prime minister warned Lebanon on Sunday not to let itself get dragged into a new war. The tiny Mediterranean country is home to Hezbollah, a Shiite Muslim political party with an armed wing of the same name. Israeli soldiers and militants have traded fire across the border since Israel’s war with the Palestinian group Hamas began, but the launches so far have targeted limited areas. “If Hezbollah decides to enter the war, it will miss the Second Lebanon War. It will make the mistake of its life,” Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu said Sunday as he visited troops stationed near the border with Lebanon. “We will cripple it with a force it cannot even imagine, and the consequences for it and the Lebanese state are devastating.”

In Northern Gaza, the Price of a Ride South Is Out of Reach for Many (NYT) As Israel’s military ramped up its warnings for civilians to flee northern Gaza, many people there said that doing so was not an option because of cost—and that it was no guarantee of safety. The Israeli military said Saturday night that it would intensify its already punishing bombardment of the besieged enclave ahead of an expected ground invasion. In Arabic-language leaflets dropped over Gaza on Saturday, it reiterated calls for people to move south, warning that anyone who did not “may be considered a partner in a terrorist organization.” But Amani Abu Odeh, who lives in the town of Jabalia in Gaza’s north, said that the danger of Israeli airstrikes on the road had pushed up the cost of travel. Drivers were now charging between $200 and $300 to take a family south, she said. Before the war, the same trip cost about $3 a person. “We can’t even afford to eat,” Ms. Abu Odeh said. “We don’t have the money to leave.” Instead, she and other members of her extended family have hunkered down together in one home. Even as Israel has told Gazans to head south, airstrikes have continued to hit that part of the enclave. And an Israeli military spokesman, Rear Adm. Daniel Hagari, said on Saturday night that Israel would “deepen” attacks on Gaza overall ahead of the “next stages” of the war—a reference to a widely expected ground offensive. That—coupled with the escalating humanitarian crisis across the enclave—is one of several reasons some families say they are staying put in the north.

Middle East War Adds to Surge in International Arms Sales (NYT) Just days after the assault by Hamas ignited a new war in the Middle East, shipments of American weapons began arriving in Israel: smart bombs, ammunition and interceptors for the Iron Dome missile-defense system. In President Biden’s planned meeting in Israel on Wednesday with Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, more military aid is a likely topic. The conflict between Israel and Hamas is just the latest impetus behind a boom in international arms sales that is bolstering profits and weapons-making capacity among American suppliers. The surge in sales is providing the Biden administration with new opportunities to tie the militaries of other countries more closely to the United States, the world’s biggest arms exporter, while also raising concerns that a more heavily armed world will be prone to careen into further wars. Even before Israel responded to the deadly Hamas attack, the combination of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and the perception of a rising threat from China was spurring a global rush to purchase fighter planes, missiles, tanks, artillery, munitions and other lethal equipment. The surge in sales is also being driven by the rapid pace of technological change in warfighting, pressuring even well-armed nations to buy new generations of equipment to stay competitive. Worldwide military spending last year—on weapons, personnel and other costs—hit $2.2 trillion, the highest level in inflation-adjusted dollars since at least the end of the Cold War, according to the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute, which prepares an annual tally.

In Global Conflict Zones, Hospitals and Doctors Are No Longer Spared (NYT) The explosion at the Ahli Arab Hospital in Gaza City on Tuesday was the latest in a growing series of violent incidents involving medical facilities in conflict zones, which together have taken an enormous toll on vital health care infrastructure and staff in violation of what was once a bedrock aspect of international law. Over last two decades, as the principle of sparing health care workers and facilities has continually eroded, the most dangerous incidents have been carried out by state actors, said Michiel Hofman, who is an operational coordinator for Doctors Without Borders in Sudan and a veteran of medical aid delivery in Afghanistan, Yemen and Syria. Yet Article 18 of the First Geneva Convention, ratified by United Nations member states after World War II, says that civilian hospitals “may in no circumstances be the object of attack, but shall at all times be respected and protected by the parties to the conflict.” Article 20 of the convention says that health care workers similarly must be protected by all sides. “The willingness of states to push the boundaries of international humanitarian law seems to have accelerated,” Mr. Hofman said. “It’s the states that have explicitly signed the Geneva Conventions, and states usually have far greater military power and especially air power.”

A Paris store let customers steal shoes—if they could outrun a pro sprinter (Washington Post) While shopping recently at a Paris running store, a customer stopped in front of a security guard and asked to take a selfie with him. While the security guard was distracted, the customer’s friend grabbed a hat from a nearby table and sprinted out of the store. Realizing he had been duped, the security guard chased after the thief and caught them a few seconds later. But the guard wasn’t upset; instead, he smiled. Employees at Distance, a running store with locations in Europe and Africa, told customers last month that they could steal any item featuring a tag that read, “ROB IT TO GET IT.” But there was one condition. Distance hired one of France’s fastest sprinters, Méba Mickael Zeze, as its security guard that day. To steal an item, customers had to outrun the 29-year-old, who once finished the 100-meter dash in under 10 seconds. Zeze caught 74 customers; only two got away with free merchandise. After leaving the store, Zeze said he got a massage and took an ice bath. He would return to training the next day in hopes of qualifying for the 100- and 200-meter dashes and the 4-by-100-meter relay in the Olympics. But he was exhausted. “It was a long, long, long day,” Zeze said.

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Honey Covered Teeth and Blood-Stained Knuckles (A Bee Doesnt Always Lose Its Stinger)

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/OB2FLho by SovereignVoidDragon Damian Wayne is transferred to Paris, France after a few tough years of schooling. Weirdly enough, sending the emotionally stunted boy to a city being held hostage by an emotional terrorist was somehow one of Bruce's better ideas. Words: 2335, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Series: Part 3 of Monkey Bars, Turtle Shells, Bee Stings, and a Dash of Luck Fandoms: Miraculous Ladybug, Batman - All Media Types, DCU Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Damian Wayne, Nino Lahiffe, Lê Chiến Kim, Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Marc Anciel, Alix Kubdel, Miraculous Ladybug Ensemble, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne Relationships: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Damian Wayne, Nino Lahiffe & Damian Wayne, Kim Le Chien & Damian Wayne, Marc Anciel/Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Nathaniel Kurtzberg & Damian Wayne, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Miraculous Ladybug Ensemble Additional Tags: Soft Boi Damian, but not in the traditional sense, no romantic relationships, except for marc and nathaniel, bc i love them, Bee Damian Wayne, Alix cameos are mostly from the future lol, shes cryptic and loves it, Boys in Skirts, Fluff, class salt, i will dehydrate you with salt only to then give you a cavity via fluff youre welcome, light Bruce Wayne Bashing, for myswlf, for myself, OOC characters, its a fanfic it'll be like that lmao, this is purley self indulgent], its my fic i make the rules, i am falling asleep as i write this, Not Beta Read, Lila Rossi Bashing, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Bashing, just a little, Platonic Soulmates read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/OB2FLho

[princess-of-the-corner]

I ended up thinking about Hawkmoth with good publicity again & had thoughts.

So, it was agreed Fu needs to change his entire methodology. His foe knows he exists & has some estimation as to an identity. He knows Hawk Moth want the Ladybug & Cat. He knows the man has connections in the city and is building both a fanbase by orchestrating disasters to play hero, so he can use his followers to eventually flush Fu out of hiding.

Long story short, he cannot keep all the Miraculous, nor can he risk putting Tikki & Plagg into the field. He also needs to find people who, rather than being cinnamon roles are those with little respect for authority or a willingness to break and bend the rules as necessary. He needs a team of infiltrators, saboteurs and fighters.

With that in mind he chooses: (I use my 12 Kwami lore, sorry XD)

Chloe, as she was often used as Hawk Moth's favorite hostage and is aware of his con. He entrusts her with Mulo both to help protect her identity as both civilian & agent and for infiltration and battles. With the power of Multiplication & Duplication, she takes the name Mademoiselle Millions!

Chloe uses her skills in ballet, gymnastics and general athleticism to orchestrate incredible combo attacks. Also like, sends tins versions of herself elsewhere or whatever, she thinks spy work is lame & has seen 'way' more than she ever wanted when looking for Hawk Moth.

Luka is chosen in large part because of his soul song ability, it helped him parce that Hawk Moth was not someone genuine. What's more, raised by ANarka he has a healthy disrespect for authority and his skills with empathy and calm head make him a good counter to some of the Butterflies inate powers.

He is entrusted with Dusuu and with the powers of Evocation & Transmutation, he takes the name Erymathy From kari-go). Luka uses these powers to enhance or weaken his surroundings, strengthen his allies or weaken his enemies, and to change the elemental nature of objects as necessary. Its useful for infiltration.

Juleka, like her brother, she has a healthy lack of trust in authority figures and is far mroe willing to go to extremes as she deems necessary. She is also surprisingly fearless in the face of monsters, even of social situation cause her dread.

Entrusted with Longg, she wields the Miraculous of Storm & Power, as Draconyx. SHe is an ideal partner for the Peacock which can radically dversify her elemental combinations allowing for greater versatility or more overwhelming power as the situation demands.

Alya is a reporter and while at first enamored with Hawk Moth, hshe sought to uncover his identity despite him stressing people should not. She also jjumped on toe 'conspiracy' theory that Hawk Moth was a thief with great interest, not outright distrustful, her commitments to the truth at any cost suits Fu's needs well.

Thus she was entrusted with Kaalki, the Kwami of Action & Migration, to assist her in infiltrating and intel gathering. Alya took on the name Troades (A Trojan Horse reference) and has sworn to get to the bottom of things no matter what. & if she becomes an acclaimed reporter, hero and all around stunner in the interim, she & Kaalki won't complain.

Fox: Fu would have liked to hand out the Fox, the powers of Mirage & Materialization, when used correctly could pull images and emotions from even Hawk Moth and help uncover his identity. However that Miraculous was lost sometime ago, though it seems to be making its way back to Paris in the hands of one, Volpina.

Tiger: I am unsure who I'd give Tiger to, my shortlist is, Kagami (Cos of course), Alyx (She can work) and Mylene (She is a protestor after all) But its hard to make any of them fit quite as I'd like. Though if Mylene was picked she'd go by Sabertooth to honor an extinct animal.

Still, he doesn't need to hand them all out right away so there'd be some wiggle room. Marinette & Adrien are off the list due to their respective respect for authority (Meaning she would struggle to see HK as a villain unless he does so in front of her) or controlling parents making the work harder.

I imagine Fu is a bit more involved in trying to designate tasks and serve as mission control, though he may need to move in & hide with his old flame to hide out from Hawk Moth and his followers. Also, a team made up of people with a lack of respect for authority is not exactly easy to control!

Who knew!?

XD

Oh!

Honestly I'm voting for Sabertooth.

[dissapointeddruid]

Regarding the first point, would you prefer i deny people die? I won't. People die in Gaza. Civillians, IDF soldiers, terrorists they die. I wish it eould be done, byt if it stops now it will only happen again the next time Hamas attacks

Since you're not into proof, here's some:

Terror Tunnels :

Tunnels under Shifa hospital:

"As is so rarely the case in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, this answer truly is black and white. Either there is an underground series of tunnels below the hospital. Or there is not."- CNN

CNN visited the exposed tunnel shaft in the Al-Shifa Hospital ... https://www.cnn.com/2023/11/20/middleeast/gaza-tunnel-shaft-al-shifa-hospital-intl-hnk/index.html?shem=ssusba

"The only country that condemm 18 years old as terrorists"

Teen terrorism inspired by social media is on the rise. Here's what ... https://www.nbcnews.com/think/opinion/teen-terrorism-inspired-social-media-rise-here-s-what-we-ncna1261307?shem=ssusba

UPDATE: A teenager arrested by Counter terrorism detectives has ... https://news.met.police.uk/news/teenager-arrested-by-counter-terrorism-detectives-474206?shem=ssusba

Swindon Teenager Sentenced for Terrorism Offences https://www.counterterrorism.police.uk/swindon-teenager-sentenced-for-terrorism-offences/?shem=ssusba

Three ISIS-supporting teens were arrested for planning to attack the ... https://www.i24news.tv/en/news/international/europe/1697992691-three-isis-supporting-teens-were-arrested-on-suspicion-of-planning-to-attack-the-israeli-embassy-in-paris?shem=ssusba

"Many hostages saud good things until blocked by the media"

(Here's mostly the thai hostages since you don't seem to care about them all)

Freed Thai hostage returns home in emotional reunion after Hamas ... https://www.nbcnews.com/news/world/freed-thai-hostage-returns-home-emotional-reunion-hamas-release-rcna127544?shem=ssusba

Thai workers held hostage by Hamas describe kidnappings and ... https://www.pbs.org/newshour/show/thai-workers-held-hostage-by-hamas-describe-kidnappings-and-recovery-after-release?shem=ssusba

Freed Hamas hostages, attack survivors face long psychological ... https://abc7chicago.com/israel-terror-attack-hamas-hostages-in-gaza-released-thursday/14125456/?shem=ssusba

Stories of torture, torment revealed by Israeli children kidnapped by ... https://www.foxnews.com/world/stories-torture-torment-revealed-israeli-children-kidnapped-hamas-terrorists?shem=ssusba

Hamas burned child hostages with motorcycle exhaust pipes to 'mark ... https://nypost.com/2023/11/30/news/hamas-burned-child-hostages-with-motorcycle-exhaust-pipes-to-mark-them-drugged-them-to-keep-them-complacent-families/?shem=ssusba

Several of the israeli that were considered hostages by Hamas were also found or reported dead inside Gaza, including 2 children under 4. You can figure out the rest

I won't be surprised if years later we find out from leaked documents that the 8 day truce's only purpose was to try and make the public forget about Gaza and reduce people's anger at Israel

And I'm afraid that maybe it worked. Less and less people are watching Gaza now.

Because How else can you explain the audacity to kill 1000 civilians in 24 hours , starting minutes after the truce ended at midnight?

They planned this.

Do not stop talking about Palestine

Please...

[amberwild420]

OSB, TSF (pt. 56)

masterlist

The reality

(I apologize for ghosting out for a while. I was nearing the end of my internship and I had to work the whole shift constantly, so I‘m sorry for the delayed update. Here are the promised updates. After today the updates had been shifted to daily)

The class was quick to gang up on the new pair.

 What is wrong with you?

Lila is so nice to you but you are so mean.

He’s just as mean as the bullies we deal with.

He is just as sick as Mari-trash.

He’s simply colder than Fox.

  The two looked at each other as if asking what the hell that was. Kaylan who silently looked at the commotion made by the everyday liar, met the steel blue eyes, who happened to question her about what they had gotten themselves into.

 Taking a deep breath, Kaylan looked at the crowd.

 Shut the hell up!

 All noises ceased and the akuma class looked at Kaylan who glared at them coldly.

 If you’re done. Leave. Make so much of a squeak and I’ll cut your tongues out.

 Some covered their mouths and other paled and shivered before scattering. Marinette and Chloe took the pair away from the class and Kaylan followed them.

 Jon looked at the girl before smiling awkwardly.

 Thank you for saving us. That was …… nuts? I’m Jon.

 Kaylan.

 With a brief introduction, they took the pair to bakery.

 I don’t know when we started the role of caretaker.

 We don’t need caretakers.

 Damian hissed at the black haired girl who simply shrugged. Marinette awkwardly introduced everyone. Just when they reached the bakery, Kaylan squealed and launched at the nearby person, who happened to be Luka.

 With the speed of flash, she started telling him how excited she was and how she had some good news to share. Luka only chuckled and answered some of the rapid fire questions. Kagami got hugged as well.

 The American pair looked baffled at the mood swing and discreetly asked the duo beside them if it was a daily occurrence.

 She excited for some reason. Why don’t we all sit inside and see what’s happening?

 Marinette suggested and despite the refusal of the two boys she pushed them towards the bakery. Kaylan was barely keeping herself. She even went to hug Sabine and Tom who were happy to hug her back and thus everyone sat down with the treats in the middle.

 So yesterday I got a call……..and ………

  *cue dramatic music*

 They scouted me! I’m going to voice act in the miraculous animated series!

 (Just pretend there is such series. The animated series is based on the real life akuma attack and thus Luna is also a character.)

 The group of French friends was quick to let out a cheer and hug her. Many congratulations passed around. Damian and Jon just awkwardly looked at the group. Just as they separated Marinette ran towards the counter and brought a batch of cupcakes and macaroons.

 Now……..      Kaylan sat and looked at the new pair with them.    …..I believe a welcome and a few instructions are in order.

 The rest of the people sat and looked at them. Marinette shook their hand before introducing all of them to each other. The instructions surprisingly turned towards the akuma attacks and how to avoid being in danger while the heroes fight with their undivided attention.

 Damian hated to admit that this group of people was more tolerable compared to the lower IQ creatures that he is forced to call his classmates.

 Jon was quick to strike a conversation with the group. He and the blue eyed baker’s daughter were like two suns shining brightly enough to blind them.

 I should keep in mind to bring my sunglasses from now on.    Kaylan squirted her eyes as if it is physically paining her to look at the pair of suns.

  Chloe snorted before closing her eyes and looking away. It was clear she agreed with that statement.

   Luka strung his guitar and smiled while Kagami nibbled on the macaroons, listening and sometimes answering to some questions.

  previous

next

[jinx-jade]

And they were roommates

For @the-coffee-fandom

It had taken five years to defeat Hawkmoth and retrieve the missing miraculi. Five long years of fighting, planning, and bottling up emotions, but at last, it was finally over.

Despite the dramatics of each minion created over and over again in Hawkmoth's image, the end of the Parisian hostage situation was a quiet affair that was handled quickly and without some large announcement. In fact, no one had been made aware that they were once again free to feel and experience emotions without the need to worry about possible possession by an evil butterfly.

The threat simply ceased to exist overnight. Gone forever without any hint as to how or why. The only people who knew at what moment Hawkmoth's reign of terror truly came to an end were Hawkmoth, the man himself, and those who helped to decide his punishment for the misuse of multiple miraculi.

For the spotted heroine, it felt as if a weight had been lifted off her chest. Her duty, the one thing she had promised to all of Paris at the beginning of the war, was finally fulfilled. And just as she had proclaimed, Hawkmoth had been the one to hand over his miraculi of his own accord, having only needed a little push in the right direction.

The push, in this case, was offering to heal his comatose wife, for a price, and it was a price he was more than happy to pay. All that was needed was for Hawkmoth, the elder Agreste man, to give up not only his miraculous but also the ability for his wife’s and his own bloodlines’ to wield, hold, or claim any object inhibited by a kwami as their own. It had only taken a simple blood pact that had been created by previous guardians as a way to banish those seen as unworthy from the temple, to make this rule a reality for both the Agreste and the Graham de Vanily bloodlines. However, it was this blood pact that led to the accidental half-reveal between the two Parisian heroes, when the black cat, peacock, and butterfly miraculi all reappeared inside the miracle box as soon as Ladybug honored her side of the deal.

"No no no no no-" The bluenette mumbled under her breath in a panic.

Reaching into the miracle box with shaky hands, Marinette picked up the ring that had once belonged to her partner; former partner. She slid the ring onto her finger, watching with a held breath as the kwami of destruction and ill fortune manifested before her.

“Pigtails? What happened? Where’s the kid?” Plagg questioned, looking around the remains of a familiar pink room that held more packed boxes than it held personal items.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Marinette whispered, raising a hand to her mouth in growing horror.

Plagg zipped over to the bluenette, hovering in front of her.

“What- is he? He’s not-…” The black cat stuttered, unable to continue his sentence.

“No Plagg, he’s not dead,” Tikki reassured her other half, despite how her head hung low, and her voice held the same tone she usually used whenever they were grieving the loss of one of their wielders.

“Then where is he, Sugar cube, and what’s wrong with your bug?”

Tikki shook her head, floating slowly over to her other half’s side, grabbing his paw, she led him to the opposite side of the room. Leaning in close, the kwami of creation and fortune whispered just loud enough for the other to hear.

Plagg chuckled, a low and dark sound in the dimly lit room at the news of Adrien being alive but unable to wield a miraculi ever again. He floated over to Marinette’s side, gently wiping away her tears, even as they continued to fall.

“It’s alright pigtails. You didn’t know.” The black cat kwami murmured as Marinette continued to cry apology after apology.

At some point late at night, during the early hours of the morning, the three of them fell asleep, curled up together in the mess of pillows and blankets that had been haphazardly thrown together in a pile on the floor. It was a mess, but to be fair, so were they. And the next morning, a few hours after the three had fallen asleep, Marinette got up just long enough to ask her parents to call her out sick and grab some food and snacks for herself and the two kwamis.

When it was time for lunch, Sabine brought up a bowl of soup and bread, placing it at Marinette's desk.

“Sweetheart? Are you alright?” The older woman asked, taking a seat next to her daughter among the pile of fluffy objects.

“...No. I’m not.” The bluenette admitted after some gentle nudges from the red kwami.

"Did the Hawkmoth confrontation not go as planned?" Sabine inquired, only to receive a half shrug, half shake of her daughter’s head.

"Hawkmoth isn't a threat anymore, and the bloodline punishment worked," Tikki explained in her wielder's place.

"Oh? Then what's bothering you, dear?"

Marinette blinked up at her mother with teary eyes.

"Hawkmoth was Gabriel Agreste…and I know it's stupid- but with the type of punishment used, Adrien can't be Chat Noir- or use any of the miraculi- and I just ripped away his ability to use any of the miraculi and he's always said it was his freedom, and I ripped that away- he was my best friend for years, mama- and he was an amazing partner and I-... I don't know-..." The bluenette trailed off.

"Oh, sweetheart, you were going to ask him to be your life partner, weren't you?" Sabine guessed correctly, earning a nod from her daughter.

"Marinette, the thing about life partners is that they are always harder to find than they seem, and often aren't the first person you consider." The older woman points out gently. "I know some of the other priests and priestesses say to settle down with your best friend, but sometimes, you need someone who understands you in a way that just a friend isn't capable of."

"You and papa make it look so easy with your fairytale love story. " Marinette mumbled with a pout, which earned a chuckle from her mother.

"We're far from perfect, but we communicate with each other, and that is the key to any good relationship, platonic or romantic. Besides, Tom was actually my third potential suitor." Sabine whispered conspiringly.

"Really? I didn't know that!" Marinette says with wide eyes, earning another round of laughter from her mother.

"Mhmm, and with each suitor I thought, this is it, this is who I want to share my soul with," Sabine says, shaking her head with a huffed chuckle.

"The first one was a childhood crush from my prayer group, I was eleven or twelve at the time when everything was still some fantasy dream you only hear about. The second was my best friend when I was seventeen. Just like you, I thought it would be amazing to settle down with my best friend for life, but then I left the temple. I left home and I found someone who understands me without the need to speak. Someone willing to put in just as much effort and energy into the relationship as I was, despite how easy it felt. And while the elders had been hesitant to allow our union, it helps that your father was able to learn some of the basic magic skills. " The older woman explained.

"The elders wouldn’t allow you to take Adrien as your life partner even if he had the chance to agree to the terms of courtship. They won't even consider him a potential suitor with his inability to wield a miraculi in addition to his lack of magic, " Sabine continued. Running a hand through her daughter’s messy hair, she gently began untangling the knots as she went.

"It's just so dumb. I understand the rules and traditions, but for whatever reason, I still wanted to pick the one person who I'm not allowed to pick." Marinette pointed out with a huff, wiping at her watery eyes. "I've seen the alternate realities where we had gotten together, and they all ended in apocalyptic circumstances! I shouldn't have even entered this stupid, stupid crush for as long as I have!" The bluenette groans, burying her face into a nearby pillow.

"It's not stupid, sweetheart, just a case of puppy love. It will fade." Sabine cooed, wiping away the tears that threatened to fall.

"The kid was your best friend within the safety the mask provided. It was understandable for you to grow attached." The black cat kwami murmured from where he was curled up on Marinette’s shoulder. "Hell, I know I did. He might not have been one of my kittens, but he sure was one of the best wielders I've had in a long while."

Sabine hummed in agreement.

"It probably didn't help to have him wielding the complementary miraculous to yours. There is a reason that tethered miraculi are usually used by tethered souls. The fact that you're not romantically involved with anyone would make it easier for the ladybug miraculi to alter your emotions to fit that of someone who is tethered to the other." Tikki pointed out, causing the bluenette to groan.

"Don't you just love magic?" Marinette asked sarcastically, earning a light swat on the arm from her mother.

"Come on, get up and eat. Your food is probably cold by now." Sabin says, prompting another groan and a round of grumbled complaints as Marinette sluggishly pulls herself out of the fluffy pile of pillows and blankets.

"...how about we take a trip to the temple for your birthday?" Sabine suggested after a few moments of thinking.

"It would be nice, but we don't have time, mama. Next week is finals and then I have a plane to catch right after school on the last day." Marinette reminds her mother.

"I'm sure we could work it out with your teachers, maybe come into school early on Monday, take all of your tests, and then we'll leave for Tibet." The older woman explains.

"Yeah, that could work." Marinette hummed in agreement, and that's exactly what they did.

Sabine set up the tests with Marinette’s teachers, and the bluenette came in early Monday morning to take all of the tests. Once they were complete, the Dupain-Chengs took a much-needed trip back home to the Tibetan temple.

Despite the bluenette’s protests, the elders had put together a welcome ceremony that began the moment the Dupain-Chengs helicopter had settled down on the landing pad. Practically every villager was gathered, waiting patiently, or impatiently if one was referring to the children, in neat rows with a clear pathway from the helicopter pad to the main temple. Those who were lined directly along the path held unlit candles cradled in their hands, offering them in Marinette's direction with their heads bowed in a show of both greeting and respect.

Looking away from her people, blue eyes locked with her mother’s dark obsidian eyes. Marinette sighed, taking the first step out of the flying vehicle. Sparks of light shoot out in waves of swirls from where the guardian had stepped causing a surge of energy to wash over the temple grounds. The wick of each candle offered to the guardian caught fire as she walked by them until eventually, every candle was lit with flickering blue flames.

When the Dupain-Chengs reached the main temple, they were greeted by seven of the nine court elders. Each one of the elders took the time to bow their heads with their fisted hands placed over their hearts. Marinette dipped her head in return.

The trip only lasted six days, during which, a majority of the bluenette's time was spent meditating, speaking with the elders, and participating in quite a few required ceremonies. Marinette, as per tradition, held a banquet in the lotus garden courtyard during the evening of her second day and last day back at the temple. During the banquet, the guardian performed a large tea blessing ceremony. The tea leaves were mixed into a few cauldrons full of low-boiling birch water while she whispered prayers to each kwami, calling on each of their souls to protect her people from harm. A few batches of this particular tea were made in order to have enough for the whole village.

The day Marinette returned to Paris with her mother and father was the last day of the school year. Despite the lack of classwork to do, classes continued as they would any other day of school. Most classes were spent talking about what everyone had planned for the break, or where people were going to school the following year. And of course, the Akuma class couldn’t stay on topic for an entire day’s worth of conversations about the future. A majority of the class was gossiping about the dramatic reappearance of Gabrial Agreste’s supposed late wife, who was very much alive.

According to the rumors going around, Adrien was taken out of school a few days early to spend time with his mother. This meant that Marinette wouldn't have to see her former partner, who held quite a few of her almosts that ended as nevers. She was glad to not be forced to see what effect, if any, the loss of the blond's miraculous had on Adrien. It definitely made it easier for Marinette to accept her decision to follow one of the elder's advice and move on from Paris as a whole.

There was a taxi waiting outside of the bakery when she got there. Her luggage was already packed inside and her parents were chatting with the driver while handing him some pastries and a cup of coffee. Marinette smiled, hugging her parents tight as they whispered goodbyes and wishes for safe travels.

An hour later, blue eyes stared out the window at the retreating image of Paris.

It was an eight-hour flight, but thanks to the time difference, only two hours had passed by from when she left Paris to when she landed in Gotham. Another hour or so was used to grab her luggage and eat an early dinner at one of the food stalls outside of the boarding area. Marinette should have known better than to stay at the Gotham airport for longer than she needed to, and based on the screams that had started only moments after the bluenette had sat down with her food, it was a lesson she was going to be learning the hard way as gas started to fill the area.

All of a sudden she was back in Paris. Her former partner was dressed in all white with blue eyes instead of green. They were surrounded by dead civilians and dozens of akumas hovering around Chat blanc, waiting for her akumatized partner to give them orders.

One of the akumas tried to grab Marinette, only for her to leg sweep them, taking their akumatized object and dismantling it. More akumas seemed to notice Ladybug after that first one. The akumas were rushing in her direction, away from the dead remains of the city’s people.

Everything that happened next was in quick succession. The time from the first akuma take down to the next one, and the next one, and the next, seemed to blur together until the reserve team of miraculi users had entered the fight.

Once all of the Akumas were taken care of, one of the other miraculi users approached Ladybug with caution. A quick pinch to her neck later had Marinette’s vision blurring and her knees give out. The teammate that had been approaching with caution darted forward to catch Marinette just before she could hit the floor.

"Miss, can you hear me? Are you alright?" A masked red, black, and gold hero questioned in a tone of voice the bluenette recognized as one usually used for akuma victims.

"Mmhm." Marinette hummed, blinking hard as she attempted to take back in her surroundings. "I'm fine, err, I'm okay." She reassured the vigilant, cringing at the way her voice cracked.

She was helped over to one of the medical teams by the vigilante who had caught her, Red Robin, if she remembered correctly.

The paramedic checked the bluenette over for any injuries that needed to be treated. To everyone's surprise but her own, Marinette was deemed fine and uninjured by the medicinal professional.

One of the cops came over to take her statement, and with a sigh, Marinette explained what happened to the best of her ability. Her explanation was met with a look of disbelief.

"From what the few people visually unaffected were saying, you’re the one who took down the majority of these guys, and now you're saying you couldn't hear anything and were visually hallucinating?" The cop that was taking her statement said with a raised brow, causing Marinette to snort.

"I'm from Paris, France. We pretty much thrive off functioning properly while suppressing emotions, and in all honesty, this was probably the equivalent of a small-scale akuma attack." The bluenette says with a shrug, watching the cop nod his head in sympathy.

"You're a long way from home." The cop pointed out, flipping his notepad shut.

"Am I free to go?" Marinette asked, not acknowledging the cop's last comment.

"Hm? Yeah, you're free to go." The cop said with a nod of his head, walking off to question someone else.

Gathering her luggage, Marinette left the airport, flagging down a taxi. One stops by the curb only a few seconds later. It's not a relatively short or long ride from the airport to Marinette’s college dorm, about a half-hour trip total. Checking in with the front desk took another twenty or so minutes before they gave Marinette her dorm key and sent her on her way.

Unsurprisingly, the bluenette was the first one to arrive at her shared dorm room, having arrived about a month early. A quick look around the apartment-style dorm showed that she would luckily only have one roommate. The kitchen had cabinet space and an island bar, with a fridge, a stove oven hybrid, and a sink, but no dishwasher. There wasn't a dining area, not unless you want to use the living room entryway area, which was a big empty space at the moment. The hallway across from the kitchen leads to three doors. One to the left, which was a bedroom, one to the right, another bedroom, and one at the end of the hall, which was the bathroom.

After one more check around the dorm, mainly to look for any hidden cameras, while also placing protection wards, and signal disruptors, Marinette finally began unpacking. Opening the pocket dimension she had used as storage, the bluenette started putting away her kitchenware in their proper cabinets and drawers. A towel was put on the counter next to the sink, in place of a drying rack she needed to buy. The fridge and pantry were next on the list of things to unpack, with a list made of what she had forgotten and needed to get from the grocery store. Then was the bathroom, which she stocked with towels, toilet paper, and other necessary products.

The last things to unpack were for her bedroom. She had left it last for a reason, and that reason was procrastination.

It took a while to assemble her new bed, desk, and dresser, but the easier tasks, part of setting up her room, could only be accomplished after those were done. She ended up taking a break to eat a few snacks since her dinner had gotten interrupted earlier that evening. After her long drawn-out snack break, Marinette eventually got everything unpacked and set up properly.

Having completed everything she needed, Marinette promptly crashed onto her bed to sleep off the jet lag. The next few days were spent resting and building up a new storage of emergency energy in each kwami's specialized area and subareas of power. She didn't leave the dorm for three days, allowing each kwami to explore and bless their new home for the upcoming school year. On the fourth day, Marinette finally left the safety of her dorm to run some errands, like finally buying a dish rack, and getting more groceries.

Slipping her shoes on, Marinette walked out the door and down to the lobby while double-checking the list on her phone.

"Pardon, excusez-moi." The bluenette says, stepping off to the side with a twirl, just barely avoiding walking into someone.

Damian rolled his eyes at the French girl’s pointless apology, continuing his walk over to the front desk. After about a half hour of the fool behind the desk floundering at his job, he finally handed the former assassin his dorm key.

Taking the elevator up to the seventh floor, Damian made his way to his overly expensive ‘assigned’ dorm. The term ‘assigned’ was used very loosely whenever money got involved. Seeing as the former assassin still has the habit of injuring people who enter his personal space, Bruce had thought it best to insure that Damian would be put with as few people as possible.

Opening the door to his dorm, Damian walked in, not yet removing his shoes, he instead opted to survey the area.

There were dishes in the kitchen and food in the fridge and pantry where Damian had expected to find empty space. A scoff left his lips as his annoyance with the simpletons kissing up to his family name began to simmer under his skin.

Moving down the hall, he opened one of the doors, and as expected, it was empty of everything except a cheap bed and nightstand. The door at the end of the hallway was a bathroom that was already stocked with products. In contrast to the room he had just seen, everything in the bathroom looked new and expensive, with glass jars full of different creams and soaps.

The last door was the one across from the bedroom, and when Damian opened it, a few thoughts switched gears and clicked into place.

This room was another bedroom, except it was fully furnished with pastel pinks, sage greens, cream, and gray. The cheap bed and nightstand had been replaced with higher-quality items. A new bed, desk, dresser, and some other decorative furniture had been arranged neatly in the small room.

The reason that this room was different from the other room was that his roommate had already moved in. The kitchen and bathroom items that had originally felt like someone added them in to earn favor from the Wayne family, no longer bother him in the way that people fawning over him or his family does. No, now it bothered him because his plan to come to the dorms early and not have to deal with people was ruined by his unknown, singular (thankfully), roommate.

With a sigh, Damian continued as if his plans hadn’t been interrupted, pulling out his phone to scroll through it idly. He received a message from the moving company twenty minutes later and had to meet them down in the lobby to escort them up.

A total of one hundred thirty-seven minutes, or two hours and seventeen minutes later, Damian was escorting the moving workers out of the building. And once he was no longer responsible for any visitors, Damian went back to the quiet of the elevator, ready to collapse onto his new bed or break in the speed bag that had just been put up.

Either one will have to wait until he is back in his room, which can’t happen until the elevator doors open to allow him in.

“Ah, good evening.” The French girl from earlier greeted him, with her hands full of shopping bags, waiting, just like him, for the elevator doors to open.

Damian nodded his head instead of returning her greeting, not caring enough for a proper ‘Hello’. However, unlike his idiotic siblings, Damian was unwilling to tarnish Pennyworth’s name as an etiquette teacher with his own lack of care for being a ‘proper gentleman’, and so, he gave a nod in acknowledgment as a compromise.

The elevator arrived at the ground floor. Its heavy metal doors slid open along its mechanical rail tracks.

Both college students walked inside the elevator.

Damian went to press the button for the seventh floor, only for the French girl to press it first. The two young adults glanced at each other for the invasion of space, but otherwise, they stood in silence, waiting for the machinery to reach the desired floor.

A ding from the elevator signals their arrival, and they both step out through the metal doors, beginning the walk down the hall to their respective doors.

Except, instead of going their separate ways to their own dorms, they end up at the same door.

“Eight-three-one?” The girl asked, having pulled a key from her bag, showing off the tag designating it as this door's key.

With a tired breath, Damian did the same, pulling his key out to show the girl, his roommate it seemed, his same key and tag.

“Mhm.” The girl hummed after examining the tag on his key, she gestured to the door. “If you won’t mind.”

“Wouldn’t or don’t, not won’t,” The former assassin corrected off-handedly, unlocking the door to their shared dorm apartment and pushing it open to allow the girl inside.

“Ah! Merci.” The girl thanked him, walked inside, and placed the bags on top of the kitchen island.

“Have you looked around and unpacked?” She asked while sorting through her bags, putting the food away in its proper area, and leaving the non-food objects inside one of the bags.

“I have.” Damian says, and after a moment of thought adds on, “I do apologize if I disturbed any of your belongings while looking around and unpacking. I was originally under the impression that I had arrived before any potential roommates. However, that assumption was quickly proven incorrect after checking the rooms.” the former assassin explained.

Looking away from her groceries and up at him with eyes that are an unnaturally bright shade of blue, the girl offered him a slight smile, more so an upturn of her lips than anything else.

"You are an honest person." The girl points out with a nod of her head as if Damian had passed some kind of test.

"It's not so much honesty as it is an unwillingness to waste time on useless sugar-coated words." The former assassin corrected, which earned something a little closer to an actual smile from the girl.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and you?" The girl introduced herself, glancing in his direction.

"Damian Al Ghul."

Marinette hummed in acknowledgment, looking away from her newly introduced roommate to grab the last bag full of the remaining non-edible objects.

"Eat whatever you like." The bluenette says, gesturing at the fridge. "We can figure out the rules of coexisting tomorrow since it's so late." She suggested.

"That's reasonable enough." Damian agreed as Marinette disappeared into her room.

The bluenette leaned back against her closed bedroom door as it closed, forcing herself to take a deep breath in an attempt not to panic.

When Duusu flew over to check on her, Marinette cut the peacock kwami off with her index finger pressed to her lips in a silent gesture for quiet. It was only after a few moments of silence that Marinette pushed herself up off the door, moving to check over the protection wards, adding a sound concealing effect to them. Once that was done, she turned to face the curious, hovering kwamis.

“What’s the likelihood that his last name is just a coincidence?” The bluenette asked them, but they only looked at their guardian in confusion.

“Well, I’m not sure, Miss! What’s his last name and who are we talking about?” Ziggy asked before any of her siblings could.

“My roommate. His name is Damian Al Ghul… that's just a coincidence, right? He's not here for the miracle box is he?” Marinette asked, flopping back onto her bed.

“Depends on what you are considering as a coincidence, pigtails, and I'd say is a fifty-fifty shot on whether or not the kid's here for us,” Plagg says with a shrug, joining Marinette on top of her bed comforters.

"I'm confused. I thought the Al Ghuls were in an alliance with the order." Daizzi voiced, lowering his paw from where he had once been raising it in an attempt to catch everyone's attention.

"They are- well, sort of? It's more of an agreement to not act with hostile intent towards each other." Marinette attempted to explain.

"Why aren't we in an actual alliance with them? Wouldn't that stop them from taking us?" Duusu questioned, looking from one kwami to the next.

"To have an actual alliance with the Shadows, both organizations would have to be on what they perceive as equal footing." Marinette sighed. "With the Order having a box full of gods at their disposal, the Shadows would want at least half of you." The bluenette explained.

"Oh- oh dear... I can't imagine that would end well." The peacock kwami worried.

“If he was looking for the mircauli he wouldn’t have stopped in the doorway after only a glance inside your room. Well, that and he wouldn’t have been allowed into the dorm as a whole if he had ill intent.” Orikko pointed, earning agreement from some of the other kwamis who happened to be out and about.

“With how out of balance your luck is, it wouldn’t be that bazaar if the kid was just like you.” The black cat kwami states lazily, earning a raised brow from his guardian.

“What- an unwilling heir to an ancient organization?” Marinette questions sarcastically.

“Exactly!” Plagg grinned.

“You never know, '' Trixx shrugged. "I bet a box of berries that he is. Why not test him? See if he recognizes the League of Shadow’s symbol. If he does then he’s likely a descendant of the old demon, and if he doesn’t then it really is just a coincidence.” The fox kwami suggests.

“I’ll think about it.” Marinette yawned. “Now off to bed. All of you, we don’t need a repeat of the wobbly tower incident.”

The kwamis laughed in amusement at their guardian's half-hearted glare but complied with her instructor nevertheless.

The next morning Marinette got up, grabbing a change of clothes before heading down the hall for a shower. She thinks over Trixx’s proposed idea as the steam begins to fill the room. Every possibility of what could go wrong ran through the bluenette's head faster than she could process them. Maybe Marinette was overthinking things. It’s just a symbol. She could write it anywhere in his line of sight, and see if he recognizes it or has a reaction to it.

Stepping out of the shower, Marinette began drying off, applying lotion to the newly dried surface before getting dressed. She wiped an area of the mirror clean of water vapor in order to check her reflection. And as the steam began to cover the reflective glass again, an idea pops into Marinette’s mind.

With a steady breath, she gathers a small portion of Longg’s elemental energy, using it to keep the layer of water vapor in place as she draws. Once Marinette finished drawing the symbol she locked the energy in place, adding a conditional unlocking sequence. The trigger for said lock was for someone other than Marinette to see it. Then the water vapor would be free to disperse on its own.

After one more steady breath, the bluenette grabbed her dirty clothes and stepped out of the bathroom, making a b-line to her bedroom. The clothes were unceremoniously thrown into the hamper in Marinette's closet. And just as she was about to leave, a glint of light caught her eye from the top of her dresser.

Looking over the object, Marinette could only sigh.

“Which one of you took this out of its box?” The bluenette questions with furrowed brows, having not seen any of the kwamis out of their box.

There was a purple blur as one of the kwamis flew over to the object that should have been tucked safely away in its box.

“I thought… you could- perhaps, use it?” Nooroo mumbled, unsure of his decision. “Ah- not that you need extra protection! Just… for evidence? If he is the Shadow’s heir, he would recognize this and- uhm… yeah.” The kwami trailed off.

Marinette offered the butterfly kwami a genuine, albeit, a bit sad-looking, smile.

“Thank you, Nooroo. I’ll hold on to it for now.” The guardian says, grabbing the piece of jewelry.

It was a deceptively fragile-looking thing. A thin, dainty chain that replicated a serpent in appearance and held one singular, very important pendant. She ran her hand over the intricate metalwork. Taking a slow, steady breath, Marinette brought the piece of jewelry up, draping it around her neck in its proper place. The pendant fell into place at the hollow of her throat as the clasp, the snake's fangs bit her finger, drawing blood to the surface.

In the seconds after the clasp bit her, the silver chain came alive, and like the serpent it appeared to be, it coiled its body into a tight circle, securing the choker in place. And just as the dainty silver chain had come alive, it turned still, content to rest in its rightful place. The bluenette's hand rested lightly on top of the pendant before thinking better of it, removing her hand and deciding to pay the pendent no more mind, Marinette walked back out of her room to go make breakfast.

The dorm was quiet aside from the eventual sound of one of the doors from the hallway opening. Light footsteps walked farther away, towards the bathroom at the hallway's end. The bathroom door creeks. There's a pause, or perhaps it wasn't a pause, but the actual effort put into making himself as silent as possible.

"Breakfast is ready if you like Chausson aux Pommes. If not, you can fend for yourself." Marinette informs her roommate the moment he stepped out of the hall.

"You took a shower this morning." Damian pointed out as one of his hands rested on a hidden weapon.

"I did." Marinette agreed, pulling the tray of pastries out of the oven. "What of it?" She inquires, setting the food on top of the stove.

His hesitation was all the confirmation Marinette needed.

"I left the bathroom as clean as it had been when I entered. Well- minus the steam of course." The bluenette challenges with a raised eyebrow.

Blue eyes met green, and for a moment, time froze creating their own little bubble, but all too soon the bubble broke and time resumed. A blade flew straight at Marinette only for it to stop mid-air, being snatched up by a wave of her hand, creating the image of her having caught the blade at a lightning-fast speed.

"Really?" Marinette asked unimpressed. "That was a little rude, but I'm assuming based on your reaction that your name isn't a coincidence, and you are that Al Ghul."

"Tch, what do you want?" Damian demanded more than asked. "Did my mother send you?" He inquired with a scowl. A glare was pointedly sent in her direction.

"Merde, now I'll have to stop by the store to pick up berries for Trixx" The bluenette huffed, Turing over the blade in her hand. A movement that caught Damian's full attention.

"No your mother didn't send me, I've never even met the woman, and what I want is to have a normal school year for once in my life," Marinette mumbled, placing the blade on top of the counter, she slid it over to the green-eyed boy.

Damian grabbed the weapon immediately, rounding the island, he pinned Marinette in place with a blade to her throat.

"Are all assassins like this? Attack first, question later? Or I guess it would be, ask questions never since the person would be dead." The bluenette mused.

"I won't ask again. Who sent you?" Damian growled impatiently, pressing the blade harder against her skin. Which to his surprise didn’t draw any blood.

"Do you recognize my pendant?" Marinette asked in place of an answer. She watched as green eyes trail away from her face and down to her necklace.

At first, there was nothing, no recognition, but the intricate pattern held his attention in the way that something you once knew a long time ago would. A flash of an old memory surfacing in his mind causes the former assassin to lower his blade from her throat, not yet releasing his hold on her.

"The order? What business do they have with me? I'm no longer a part of the league." Damian states with narrowed eyes.

"No business at all. Simply my unusual luck deciding to mess with my new school year. Like I said before, I'm just here for a normal school year after the hell that was Lycée in Paris." Marinette shrugged as best as she could.

The sound of a tea kettle whistling filled the air interrupting their conversation.

The former assassin loosened his hold, and hesitantly he let the guardian step away from him and over to the stove. She turned it off and opened the lid to the kettle, allowing the water to cool for a minute or two.

“Are you planning to stand there all day and starve, or are you going to join me for breakfast?” Marinette inquired with a curious tilt of her head.

Damian scoffed, rolling his eyes, but nevertheless, he took a seat at the kitchen island. The bluenette nodded her head, pleased with his decision. She turned back to the tea kettle, added the tea leaves to the strainer, replaced the lid, and left them to steep.

“So what brings you here, Mr. I'm not part of the league?” Marinette asked, leaning back on the counter. Blue eyes once again met green.

“What are you doing outside of France with Hawkmoth active?” Damian questioned in return, causing blue eyes to look away.

“He isn’t,” Marinette answered, turning back around as she moved the kettle onto a serving tray.

“What do you mean he isn’t? If he was apprehended the Justice League would have been informed.” The former assassin frowned.

“Who would have informed them? Ladybug? Chat Noir?” The guardian asked sarcastically, plating the Chausson aux Pommes, she moved them onto the tray with the tea.

“Look, there are no mircauli active. None. If you wish to inform someone, be my guest, but there are no and will be no active miraculi. Not of a while…” The bluenette trailed off, placing the tray of tea and pastries on the island, she takes a seat beside the former assassin.

“And who are you to make that decision?” Damian inquired as the guardian put a silver plate and teacup in front of each of them, pouring the steaming liquid into both cups and placing a few pastries upon their plates.

“Me? Oh, I’m just the unwilling heir to an ancient organization and guardian of a box full of gods.” Marinette shrugged, taking a sip of her tea. “Now would you like to continue this conversation about my, and subsequently, your, heritage, which would lead us to the next conversation about co-existing rules, or would you like to eat while everything is still hot and then talk?” She asked, placing her tea down to pick up her pastry.

“I see you’re not one to sugarcoat things either,” Damian noted with an arched brow, wrapping a hand around the warm cup, his eyes trailing back to the herbal liquid with suspicion.

“It’s not poisoned, you know.” Marinette pointed out. “It would one, mean I just drank poison, and I’m not stupid enough to do that, antidote waiting on standby or not. Two, it would ruin my normal school year before it even started. And three, it would be against our people’s neutrality agreement.” The bluenette lists, raising a finger with every point made.

“And I’m supposed to believe that you would abide by that old agreement?” Damian questioned in disbelief.

“Oh, you don’t have to believe anything. That’s the beauty of blood pacts. They can’t be broken, knowingly or not.” Marinette states, gesturing to the blade and where it had somehow not cut her neck.

"My grandfather didn't make his deals based on trust, he made it based on his knowledge of unbreakable magic pacts." The bluenette shrugged, grabbing her cup, she took another sip of the herbal liquid.

“What happened to your accent?” Damian questioned curiously. She had a heavy French accent before, but now, it sounded different. Her words were pronounced the slightest bit off. She still had an accent, but now Damian couldn’t place where it was from. It was as if a single note was out of tone, making it stand out amongst any voice he had ever heard before.

“The food’s getting cold.” The bluenette pointed out as if Damian hadn't said anything at all, blue eyes catching green for just a moment. The corners of her eyes crinkled in amusement.

With a sigh, he lifted the cup to his lips. “We’ll eat, then talk.” The former assassin decides before finally taking a sip.

The two heirs ate their breakfast in silence. Not a comfortable silence, but also not an uncomfortable silence. It was simply, silence. And when they finished eating, the two got up from their seats, brought their dishes to the sink, and began cleaning up.

“... you never answered what you’re doing here Al Ghul? From what I’ve heard, you’re the current Robin, and I really can’t imagine you sitting in one place for an entire school year. At least not at a high security, practically close campus where you can’t leave for patrols or missions.” Marinette comments, placing the dry dish down to pick up a newly washed one out of the dish rack.

“This dormitory is outside of the main campus, meaning it would be child’s play to leave whenever I so desired, and I would be more than capable of acting as Robin without compromising my studies.” Damian scoffed.

The bluenette hummed, laying the rag over the dishrack to dry.

“So you were benched then?” The guardian mused, leaning back against the counter.

“It’s none of your concern, Dupain-Cheng.”

“Good thing I’m not concerned. I’m merely curious, and because we have to live together for a while, I’ve deemed this information important for me to be aware of.” Marinette states, crossing her arms over her chest.

More silence filled the room, and once again, it was neither awkward nor comforting. The longer the silence stretched out, the more apparent it became that it didn’t lean one way or the other. There was no comfort provided by the presence of someone who was technically an ally, and there was no unease at the presence of a stranger.

“The co-existing rules, what are yours?" Damian eventually asked instead of answering her question.

"Mm, I have a few main ones, like staying out of my personal space unless I allow you there. Clean up after yourself, and no inviting people over." Marinette states lazily. "We'll need to figure out food and chore arrangements too, but those are my main rules."

"Am I correct to believe that these rules go both ways" The former assassin inquired, receiving a nod of agreement from the bluenette.

"Then I will be expecting you to abide by these rules as well. They are adequate for the time being, however, I reserve the right to alter or add to our current three rules." Damian states impassively.

"So long as we discuss any new rules before they are created. I won’t have a problem with that." Marinette agreed.

When they moved on to food arrangements, Damian was forced to explain that he didn’t know how to cook. Marinette had raised an eyebrow at the former assassin but didn’t say a word about why he would be lacking such a basic skill. Instead, she told Damian that he either needed to learn, or he would be buying take-out food whenever it was his turn to take care of meals. He had agreed but informed the bluenette that the last time he had cooked, it ended with him being banned from the kitchen at home. Marinette had huffed out a tired breath before agreeing to teach the former assassin how to cook so they wouldn’t be stuck with take-out food for half of the school year.

At some point during this conversation, Marinette had gone to her room to retrieve a notebook and pen to help keep them organized.

"Where'd your necklace go?" Damian asked with a raised brow.

"I took it off."

"Why?"

"Because wearing it means I'm presenting myself as the Crowned High Priestess to the Order of Guardians, and while the title is helpful in some cases, I'm not a fan of wearing it." The bluenette explained, earning a nod of understanding from her new roommate, and the topic was dropped.

The two heirs went back to discussing their schedules and ended up writing them down in order to figure out who would be cooking when, and to their surprise, a good majority of their classes were with each other.

“Huh. I had originally thought that one of us would have had to make the meal and store it for the other due to my night classes. Both of us having class at the same time as each other will make meals more convenient at the very least. At the worst, we’ll be sick of each other from nearly twenty hours of constant co-existing.” Marinette pointed out, earning a glare from her roommate.

It was decided that Sunday, Tuesday, and Friday would be Marinette’s days to cook. Monday, Thursday, and Saturday were Damian’s days, while Wednesday was either leftovers or fend for yourself. Chores were assigned using the simple rule of, if you make a mess, clean it up, and, if you see something’s wrong, fix it.

With their rules established, the two heirs separated to continue going about their day in their individual rooms. In the first few weeks of co-existing in general, the two kept to themselves, staying tucked away in their rooms unless otherwise necessary. They interacted mainly during meal times, where a majority of Marinette’s entertainment came from watching the former assassin fail at simple cooking tasks.

“Okay, okay, stop. This is just sad.” The bluenette huffed in amusement, leaving the safety of her barstool, she joined him in the kitchen, walking over to the sink.

“You’re going to need a lot more seasoning than that,” Marinette informs him while drying off her freshly washed hands and snapping on a pair of gloves.

“The recipe says-” Damian began, which led to a half-hour debate about when you should and should not follow recipes, and when it was better to deviate from what the text says. Marinette explains that the rules for cooking are a lot more forgiving than the rules for baking, causing Damian to ask what the point of the rules was if they were just going to be broken.

“Some people just like things a certain way. For example, back in my home village, the food is rich and flavorful without being heavy and dense, but here in America, most of the flavors are barely there, the foods oily, or it's an imitation of a different culture's foods.” Marinette explained, clicking the stove buttons over to off.

She turned to grab the plates only for Damian to already be holding them in her direction, waiting for the bluenette to take them.

"Thank you." Marinette hummed, grabbing the plates.

Luckily for the two heirs, Damian was fast at learning his way around the kitchen. It was obvious that his lack of cooking skills wasn’t from a lack of trying, but more so from a lack of being taught. By the end of their first month of co-existing, he was proficient enough with cooking that Marinette was more so supervising than actually helping with meals. He wasn’t at the level where he could cook any meal he wanted without a recipe yet but for half a month of learning, Damian had about six different dishes where he only needed the recipe cards as a reminder of the listed ingredients and measurements.

Before they knew it, it was the first day of school and they now had to attend their new classes.

It was definitely interesting to be in close quarters with the same person every day of the week. Except, unlike in the dorm where they could hide away in their separate rooms, they could no longer do that during school hours. Now, the two heirs were constantly in the same enclosed space with each other, with multiple other humans surrounding them, for multiple hours of the week.

On the bright side, the classes they had at night were quieter than the ones they had during the day. The people in the nighttime tended to be a lot quieter and less nosey than the daytime students. It was to the point that some days when Damian and Marinette got back to the dorm after their morning classes, neither of them would say a word to each other for hours unless it was truly necessary.

Their reluctance to speak along with living in the same dorm apartment for a little over three months had the unique side effect of being able to read each other’s body langue and react to it automatically. When they did speak to each other, it was usually in the quiet of night over topics that had to be put into words for the other to understand and wasn’t something they had talked about before.

“Are we ever going to put something there?” Marinette inquired, staring at the large empty area in the entranceway, holding her warm cup of tea to her chest as if it would magically spread its warmth through her chilled bones.

“What do you purpose we put there?” Damian asked in response, earning a shrug from the bluenette.

They sat in silence, enjoying their last few moments of peace before they had to leave their dorm and head to class.

When the time came, Marinette washed out her cup, wordlessly grabbing Damian’s from his hand and doing the same, placing both washed cups onto the dish rack to dry. The former assassin slipped on his shoes, then tossed the guardian her coat and scarf before leaving the dorm. He walked down the hallway, arrived at the elevator, pressed the button, then waited for the machine to arrive. The bluenette appeared at his side a few seconds before the doors opened, and they both stepped inside.

Walking from their dorm apartment to class wasn’t as quiet as it normally was. More whispers and gossip were filling the air as students walked by. A few of them glanced at Damian then went back to whispering among their friends. The class was the same as usual if you were to ignore the other students speaking, which Damian and Marinette already did on a regular basis anyway.

The class ended and one brave soul got up, abandoning her stuff at her seat, and walked to the back of the classroom where the two heirs had just finished packing up and were about to leave.

“You’re Damian Wayne, right?” The girl questioned, earning an unimpressed raised brow from the former assassin.

“It’s just that my friend mentioned hearing you went here and what classes you were in, and I realized that you were in my class, so I just had to see if it was true for myself, ya know? I mean, I can’t believe I didn’t recogni-”

“Shut up,” Damian commanded, cutting off the girl’s rambling as he pushed past her to the front of the classroom.

“Hey! You can’t speak to her like that!” One guy yelled out, grabbing the back of Damian’s shirt.

In a quick set of movements the guy who had grabbed the former assassin was pinned to a desk with his arm held at an angle where the smallest movement could snap the bone like a toothpick.

There were a few more outcries from the surrounding students but none of them stepped forward, having heard what the girl had said earlier.

“Al Ghul, we’re going to be late for our next class,” Marinette reminded the former assassin in French rather than English as she walked up to him. Making sure to keep her hand within his line of sight, she gently tugged on the edge of his long sleeve shirt. The switch in language caused a collective lag in the rest of their classmates' brains.

The former assassin tsked, releasing the guy with a shove causing a loud pop of a joint dislocating and a cry to be heard.

“Come on.” The bluenette urged switching back to English, she continues walking towards the door with the fabric of his shirt fisted in her hand.

They didn’t end up heading to class, instead, Marinette takes them to one of the empty school gymnasiums and rolls out one of the sparring mats. Removing her bag, coat, scarf, and shoes, Marinette stepped onto the mat, gesturing for him to do the same. He does, eventually, do as instructed, with some reluctance and a huff of disinterest.

Marinette wastes no time at all, pivoting on one foot she lands a solid kick to his chest, knocking the wind right out of him. Damian stumbles but recovers quickly, grabbing onto her foot, he swipes the other out from under her. The bluenette catches herself in a roll, hooking the leg that had been caught, around the former assassin, dragging him down to the ground with her.

The spar continues until one of them pins the other and they can’t escape, being forced to tap out. In this case, the spar continued until Damian finally conceded and stopped struggling against the bluenette.

“Feeling better?” Marinette asked with heaving lungs, taking in deep uneven breaths.

“I thought we weren't able to harm each other?” Damian asked in place of answering her. His voice sounded just as breathless as Marinett's own.

“We can’t.” The bluenette agreed, rolling off of the former assassin to lay beside him on the floor like a starfish. “You won’t find a single bruise on you.”

Damian huffed but didn’t argue the point any further. Instead, he used their current lack of conversation to take in some much-needed deep, calming breaths.

“...we should get a sparing mat for our dorm.” Damian decides, after a few moments of silence.

“Alright.” The guardian agrees, letting them fall back into the comfortable quiet where only their heavy breathing and beating hearts could be heard.

They have to get up eventually, Damian helping to pull Marinette to her feet only for her to stumble and crash into his chest.

"Oof- sorry, I stood up too fast." The bluenette apologized, straightening herself to stand on her own.

Damian hummed but didn’t otherwise acknowledge that she had said or done anything as he walked away to gather his stuff. Marinette turned away from her roommate and did the same thing, gathering her extra layers, her school bag, and slipping her shoes back on. The bluenette then walked over to where Damian was waiting by the doorway. She blinks in surprise when the former assassin grabs her by the wrist and starts walking back to the dorms.

It was unusual for them to actually touch one another for any longer than a few passing moments. It was even more so for Damian to be the one initiating the physical contact, and for it to not be in a violent way. Thinking it best not to make a big deal out of something as unimportant as the former assassin grabbing her wrist, Marinette allowed herself to be led back to their dorm, quietly staying at Damian’s side.

They ordered a few things for the dorm the next morning and continued with the school day just like usual. There were still whispers from gossiping students, but the teachers didn't say anything about the incident from yesterday, only sparing a glance at Damian as he walked to his seat. A few days later, when everything arrived at their dorm they began putting it together.

"Are you still okay with me calling you Al Ghul with everyone else calling you Wayne now?" Marinette asked, tearing off a new piece of black electric tape.

"That is who I introduced myself as." The former assassin said with a frown.

"Then why don't you correct others when they call you Wayne instead of Al Ghul?" The bluenette questioned curiously.

"Leave it be, Dupain-Cheng." Damian snapped, indicating that he didn't like their current topic; they should end that topic there.

"...it was the dean's daughter by the way," Marinette mentioned off-handedly in an attempt to steer the conversation into safe territory. This earned a glance and a raised questioning eyebrow from Damian.

"The one who essentially told the whole school that your last name is Wayne and you go to this college. It was the dean's daughter." The bluenette explained, double-checking that the mat was now firmly secured to the flooring.

"You know that how exactly?" Damian inquired skeptically.

"...I have enhanced hearing on occasion," Marinette mumbled, leaving the living room turned-trained area in favor of making herself some tea in the kitchen. The topic of Damian’s preferred last name and Marinette’s occasional metahuman abilities was forgotten for the time being.

Once the sparring mats were set up, using them became just another part of their day. The entryway living room area that had once been completely empty now served as Marinette and Damian’s practice and training area.

They trained with different types of weapons, sparring against each other, and if only one of them knows how to use it, then they teach the other one. When they aren't using weapons they'll spar without them, working on their techniques, trying to make their movements as fluid as possible.

The area is also used for weight lifting and endurance, stretching, and meditating. The last of which, Marinette had to walk Damian through how to do it properly and to say the former assassin was annoyed would be a bit of an understatement.

"I don't see what's wrong with my way of meditating. It works perfectly fine for the job that's intended." Damian scoffed, eyeing every movement the bluenette's hand made as she carefully rearranged his body to sit how she wanted it to.

"What's wrong with it, is that you're just pushing all of the negative energy out and not taking any in. To properly meditate you need to be doing both simultaneously." Marinette informs him only to receive an unimpressed huff for her troubles.

Damian closed his eyes, breathing in slowly through his core, and exhaling just as slowly and steadily. He pushed away every negative thought, allowing his mind a moment to be empty, unthinking, for the time being.

"Al Ghul," the bluenette begins, interrupting his umpteenth attempt at meditating properly.

"Open your eyes and look at me." She instructed sitting cross-legged a few inches in front of Damian, waiting for his cooperation.

"Look at me." The guardian repeated in a softer tone, watching as the former assassin's eyes opened at the gentle command.

Green eyes meet blue ones, and for the second time since the two heirs meet, time seemed to freeze, creating their own little bubble. A pause in time to allow one heir to stare into the other's soul and vice versa.

Her eyes had a glossy sheen to them. Not quite watery enough where she always appeared to be on the brink of tears, but to the point that her eyes look like water itself. The light reflected little glimpses of silver across the ocean as if it was the moon shining its light over a body of water.

Damian takes in another breath cleaning off his paintbrush. He stepped away from his painting to take a better look. The entire thing was made from different shades of blue. Even the areas one would assume white or black had been used were painted in blue, and blue alone.

A knock on his door broke Damian away from where he stood staring at his painting. Walking over to the door, he opened it, revealing, unsurprisingly, his roommate on the other side.

"Are you heading home for break or staying here?" Marinette asked without waiting for his usual questioning eyebrow raise.

"Why do you need to know?" Damian asked in response, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Because I need to go shopping, and what I plan to get varies between having one mouth to feed and having two mouths to feed," Marinette answered pointedly, earning a huff from the former assassin.

"You're not going home for break?" Damian questioned curiously, leaning his weight against the doorframe.

"Nope. Thanksgiving is an American thing." The bluenette shrugged.

"And? It's still a school break. You can do as you please with the time off." Damian reminded her.

"Mmhm, well, I'm definitely not going back to Paris, but I'll think about visiting home for a little while. Now stop sidetracking the conversation and say whether you're staying or leaving." Marinette states with narrowed eyes.

"I…have yet to decide." Damian eventually admits, averting his eyes away from her bright blue ones.

"That's okay. You still have a day or two to decide. In the meantime, why don't we go spar." The bluenette suggested, offering her hand out to the former assassin, waiting for his response. When Damian rolled his eyes and didn't snap at her, Marinette grabbed his shirt sleeve and pulled Damian out of his room and down the hall.

They sparred with each other for who knows how long; until they were both out of breath, laying on the mats. A forearm rested over Damian’s eyes while Marinette just stared at the ceiling.

"You should go home, even just for an hour or two," Marinette recommends, sounding as if she had just run a marathon.

"No." Damian groaned, letting his arm drop from his face down to the mat with a solid thump sound.

"Because you're still mad at them?" Marinette inquired, only to receive a loud smack of a hand hitting the mat in warning from the former assassin.

"Fine, how 'bout another round?" Marinette asked, pushing herself to sit up on the mat, and glancing over at Damian. "Maybe you'll finally be able to beat me." The bluenette jokes, earning another groan from the other heir as he sat up on the mat with a shake of his head.

"The fact that you can best a highly trained assassin during every one of our spars is concerning," Damian states plainly as he stood up and moved over to the kitchen.

"You're a highly trained former assassin, Al Ghul." Marinette reminded him, following Damian into the kitchen. "I mean, sure you're still a vigilante, but you hold back too much in your attempts to be less lethal. You weren't trained in incapacitation and capture. You were trained in elimination and maybe information gathering." The bluenette explained, taking the glass of water the former assassin was offering her.

"You're saying I should stop holding back." Damian voiced in confusion, lowering his glass away from his lips.

"Yes and no." The bluenette hummed. "I'm saying that you need to learn how to properly do the task at hand. You need to forget what you were taught as an assassin and relearn what is needed to be a vigilante." Marinette informed him, taking another drink from her cup.

"You are aware that I was already trained to be a vigilante." Damian pointed out.

"While that might be true, the person teaching you was clearly training you on how to use less lethal force, and not how to properly fight as a vigilante." Marinette countered, setting her glass down

"So what, I wasn't taught anything but how to pull my punches? If that's so then who in their right mind would teach me to actually fight? You?" Damian scoffed with a roll of his eyes.

"Sure. We already spar and teach each other weapons. We could easily add in proper vigilante training." Marinette shrugged, washing out her now empty glass before placing it in the dish rack.

"However…" the bluenette trailed off with a slight upturn of her lips.

"What do you want?" The former assassin states more so than asks.

"Go home for Thanksgiving day. You can ignore your family and hide out in your room all you like, but you have to stay the whole day and eat with everyone." Marinette instructed, ignoring the glare being sent her way. "You can leave as soon as the clock strikes midnight if you want. I'll even pick you up on my bike so they won't know you're leaving till you're gone." The bluenette offered.

Blue eyes met green with a glint of amusement.

"Come on Al Ghul, it's your family event and I already let you drag your feet for three hours. It's past time to go." Marinette called from where she was leaning against the doorway.

"I can't be late if the only one expecting me is Pennyworth." The former assassin snarked, meeting the bluenette at the door.

Marinette raised a challenging brow, jingling her keys as her roommate slipped on his shoes.

"Why I ever agreed to this I will never know." Damian sighed.

"I think it had something to do with not wanting to continue getting your ass kicked by someone almost a foot shorter than you." Marinette reminded him with a poorly concealed, small but genuine, smile as she tossed him a protective jacket.

"Dupain-Cheng," Damian calls in warning while the bluenette ignores him and turns away, walking through the doorway.

"Al Ghul." Came Marinette’s answering call as she turned around, walking backward down the hall. Her hands clasped behind her back, keys clinking together with each step.

Damian rolled his eyes, grabbing his unused set of house keys before trailing after his roommate and her taunting key jingles until they reached the elevator. The two heirs waited patiently for the machine to reach their floor, stepped inside, waited for it to reach the ground floor, and stepped out. They made their way to the underground student parking garage a little ways away from their specific dormitory, and over to a sleek, matte black motorcycle.

"To review, you can either hide away or hang out with your family, but you have to eat with them, and I'll pick you up at twelve o'clock midnight." Marinette reminds her roommate, handing him a helmet from one of the storage bags.

"Those are the terms we agreed upon," Damian states plainly, putting the helmet on and sliding the face shield into place.

"Alright, let's go." The bluenette huffed, waiting for her roommate to climb onto the bike.

With both heirs situated on the motorcycle, Marinette revved the engine and they were off, racing out of the garage and down the streets. A few traffic laws were ignored in favor of speeding over to the other side of the city. Although, there was nothing anyone could prove seeing as the guardian's magic ran interference, providing anonymity on any camera feed where they should have been caught. The wind whistled as their hearts raced with the adrenaline rush of weaving through traffic at such high speeds in comparison to their usual day-to-day activities in college.

They ended up taking a few detours around the city, delaying their arrival by a few minutes, not that either heir minded. It was as if they hadn’t sped around at a speed that was definitely over the legal limit when they eventually arrived at the gate of Wayne manor. Damian removed one of his hands from around Marinette’s waist to reach into his pocket, clicking the entrance key attached to his house keys as the bluenette slowed the motorcycle's approach. The speed reduction allowed the gate time to open, letting the bike through without the need to come to a complete stop.

Marinette drove the bike down the long pathway past the gate and around the large circular fountain. She circled the old water structure before coming to a stop, shutting off the engine in front of the manor’s front steps.

“Go on. I’ll pick you up at midnight.” Marinette says, gesturing at the door nonchalantly only to suck in a quiet but sharp breath in response to the former assassin tightening his grip on her waist.

“I’ll be holding you to that. Don’t be late, Dupain-Cheng.” The other heir hissed with no real heat behind it, releasing his hold on Marinette as he climbed off of the bike. Damian removed his helmet, tossing it to the bluenette, who caught it easily and put it away in one of the storage bags.

“Oh look, someone’s at the door.” Marinette pointed out with, what was obviously, a fake surprised gasp before revving the engine of her bike and zooming away from the manor, leaving Damian stranded.

“Hey, Dames! I thought you weren’t coming?” Jon greeted, grinning as the former assassin made his way up the front steps.

“I’m here, am I not?” Damian responded, walking past the half-Kryptonian and into the foyer.

“Yeah, you’re here, but who dropped you off?” Jon asked, only to be ignored by the former assassin who was walking away from him.

“Hey! Wait up Dames!” The half alien called out, following his younger friend into the dining hall where the rest of their families were gathered, serving their food and pouring drinks.

For a moment, as the former assassin walked into the room, everyone seemed to pause, chancing a glance at the newcomer. A majority of them looked surprised by the appearance of Bruce’s youngest son, while a few of them seemed unbothered as if they had already known that he was going to show up.

"Uncle Dami!" Mar'i called out excitedly, predictably tackling Damian into a koala hug. "Dad said you weren't gonna be here, but I said you had to because it’s thanksgiving time and I was right!” The half-Tamaranean laughed in triumph.

“Mar’i, come along little bumgorf. You may play with little D after you have eaten.” Kor’i instructs, ushering the little half alien to her seat at the dining table.

“Awww, but Uncle Dami only just got here!” Mar’i whined, releasing her grip she returned her feet to the floor, walking over to take her seat as Mar’i’s mother placed the half Tamaranean’s plate in front of her.

“And it is only noon. You will have plenty of time to play with little D after you have eaten. Alright, little bumgorf?” Kor’i reminded her, receiving a pout from Mar’i but a nod of the half Tamaranean’s head nonetheless.

“I am pleased you made it little D. Mar’i was upset upon hearing that you might not be coming for the thanks of givings.” The Tamaranean woman explained with a smile, ruffling his hair before going back to grab her own dish of food for lunch.

Damian scowled, fixing his hair. He glared at his oldest brother, taking in a deep breath, even, breath, calming his already buzzing nerves. Something told the former assassin that this was going to be a long day.

By the time midnight rolled around, Damian had to carefully extract himself from a rather chaotic game of monopoly that was more swearing than actual negotiation and business deals.

“Where’re you heading?” Connor asked from where he had settled on an armchair away from the chaotic game fighting; next to the doorway.

“Where do you think?” Was the former assassin's sarcastic response as he slipped on his shoes and jacket.

“I think you’re leaving with that motorcyclist that just pulled up,” Connor answered honestly with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Then you aren’t as idiotic as you look.” Damian scoffed walking into the foyer, he opened the front door, ignoring the questioning calls from the family members that had followed him out of the living room.

“You’re late.” The former assassin states, walking up to the motorcyclist's side.

“It’s eleven fifty-nine. I’m technically early.” The bike rider pointed out jokingly, tossing a helmet to Damian that he caught with ease.

“Let’s go.” The assassin heir ordered, climbing onto the back of the bike, and off they went with a rev of the motorcyclist’s engine, without so much as a glance back at the family members that now stood in the manor entryway from where they had been investigating what the youngest Wayne had been up to.

The manor faded into the distance as the two roommates sped through the city, making their way back to their college dormitory, or more specifically, the parking garage of their college dormitory. The bluenette parked her bike in the same spot she always does, shutting off the engine.

“You didn’t tell them that you weren’t spending the night, did you?” Marinette asked, removing her helmet, she looked backward, over her shoulder, as she stayed straddling the seat.

“It was none of their business, so why would I?” The former assassin scoffed, removing his own helmet and placing it in the appropriate storage bag. He did the same for the bluenette’s helmet, taking it from her hands, he climbed off her bike and put it away.

“You don’t. It would have just kept your overly paranoid family from worrying.” Marinette shrugged and climbed off her bike.

“Come on. We still have to grab our stuff from the dorm before heading out.” Marinette reminded her roommate, only to receive a roll of the eyes from him.

“I aware, Dupain-Cheng.”

“Then let’s go.” Marinette hurried, grabbing onto the edge of Damian’s sleeve, having made sure to have kept her hand within his line of sight. The bluenette tugged on the fabric as she began to walk away from the bike. The former assassin followed, falling into step with her, walking side by side as the two made their way back to their dorm room.

They walked into the dormitory, took the elevator up to the seventh floor, and walked down the hallway to the door labeled eight-three-one. Damian unlocked the door, pushing it open, he allowed Marinette to walk in first, following right behind her into their dorm. The two heirs grabbed their bags from where they had been left in Marinette’s and Damian's separate rooms, meeting back up in the middle of the hall, right outside both of their rooms.

“You have everything I told you to pack, Al Ghul?” The bluenette asked, taking out a dark dusky pink marble that had a slight glow to it.

“Of course I do.” The former assassin scoffed with a roll of his eyes.

Blue eyes narrowed at her roommate, looking him over as if to double-check that he had everything without looking in his bag.

"No, you don't. Here." Marinette says, pulling out a black leather cord choker that holds a single metal bead. "It'll translate the langue into one you'll understand." She explains, handing it over to the former assassin and waiting for it to be put on.

"You're wearing that necklace." Damian pointed out, sparing a glance at the sliver serpent and pendant that decorated her neck.

"We are staying at the temple." The bluenette reminded him, grabbing Damian's sleeve once he was done putting on the choker.

“Now we can go,” Marinette muttered under her breath, dropping the marble on the floor. She stomped on it the second the marble hit the floor.

One moment they were in the hallway of their dorm room, the next, they were standing outside a large decorative yet sturdy and protective gate.

“We aren't in Kansas anymore, Al Ghul,” Marinette joked, pushing the gates open with what was definitely an inhuman amount of strength. “Welcome to the Order of Guardians.” The bluenette says, gesturing for them to keep walking.

The Order was both exactly what he expected and nothing like he had thought it would be. The buildings, clothes, accessories, and food were all clearly of Asian descent, but from which specific area was hard to pick out. If Damian were to take a guess he would probably say that this village took its culture from a little of everywhere that surrounds it. It’s a large gated village that surrounded a large temple. There were a few smaller temples as well, scattered around the village, but that wasn’t where the two heirs were going. They were heading straight for the main temple.

Villagers that the two heirs passed on their way to the main temple were whispering among themselves. A few recognized the bluenette for who she was and bowed their heads when she walked by. Others pointed out their very obvious outside clothing, wondering what brought the outsides or who let them inside the village.

“High Priestess?” One of the guards standing outside the main temple door greeted them questioningly.

The bluenette tilted her head to the side curiously, once again grabbing onto her roommate’s sleeve.

“Sheng, I wasn’t aware that you finished your training.” Marinette greeted in return, bowing her head ever so slightly.

“That’s because I just graduated, today’s my first da-” The first guard was cut off by an elbow to his side from the second guard that had been standing on the other side of the doorway. “err I mean, greetings High Priestess, I shall alert the elders of your arrival.” Sheng greeted her properly, ducking inside the temple to do what he said he would.

The second guard chuckled.

“Forgive him, High Priestess. He still has a lot to learn.”

“I’m not a fan of formality and you know it, Qin.” The bluenette huffed. “While it is nice to see the both of you, I do have to go greet the elders and introduce my guest,” Marinette says, tugging on said guest’s sleeve.

“Of course, High Priestess, pardon the interruption.” The older guard, Qin, apologized with a fist over his heart and a bow of his head.

Marinette sighed and led Damian into the temple.

“Is that how I should expect most interactions, here, to go?” The former assassin asked, glancing at the bluenette.

“Oh no.” Marinette snorts. “It gets worse.” She says without any further explanation, guiding them through the maze that was the temple halls.

Eventually, they come to a stop outside a large door that had two guards standing on each side. All four guards bowed with a fist placed over their hearts.

“I hope you remember your manors from your time with the Shadows, Al Ghul,” Marinette mumbled under her breath, just loud enough for Damian to hear as one of the two closer guards pushed the door open, holding it to allow the two heirs through.

The room on the other side of the door held a long, tall table with all nine elders sitting in their designated spots. Each elder looked between the two as they entered the room and the guard closed the door behind them.

“High Priestess, it is an honor and a surprise to have you with us this afternoon.” The elder in the center of the long table greeted her with a bow of his head, and the other elders followed suit, bowing their heads.

“Junior Elders Lu, Zen, Lei, Zhao, Fu, Tao. Elders Fang, Tang, and High Elder Cheng.” Marinette greeted with a bow of her head. “I thank you for your greetings and wish you Tikki’s blessings and Plaggs mercies.” The bluenette offered, raising her head.

“And we thank you for your kindness, High Priestess.” The elder that sat in the center of the table, High Elder Cheng, said in return. “How long will your visit be?”

“My guest and I will be staying in the temple until noon this coming Monday,” Marinette answered, causing attention to shift to her roommate.

“And who is this guest of yours, High Priestess?” High Elder Cheng questioned with a raised brow.

“This is Damian Al Ghul,” Marinette introduced, pleased with the slight head bow that the former assassin was willing to offer.

“Al Ghul, you say.” High Elder Cheng repeated with an impassive facial expression.

“I assure you High Elder Cheng, while I am that Al Ghul, I don’t intend to cause any trouble,” Damian explains easily, unbothered by the skeptical looks the other elders were giving him.

“...well, so long as you aren’t causing trouble for the order, we take no issue with your being here, Al Ghul.” High Elder Cheng decides, sending a look to the one or two other elders that looked like they wanted to protest. “Please, enjoy your stay.”

With that, the two heirs took their leave from the room full of elders. Marinette used the next three days to run Damian through all of the basics. She would make him restart whatever lesson they were working on if he used a move or technique outside of the skill set Marinette taught him.

While he was making progress, it was slow and repetitive with how often they would have to restart from the beginning. The few breaks that the two heirs were forced to take for meals, sleep, and the two lotus ceremonies on Saturday and Monday were most likely the thing keeping the former assassin from snapping at the guardian for making him restart. Which, to be fair, was actually his own fault and Damian knew it, even if he didn’t want to admit it out loud.

A few hours after Monday’s lotus ceremony it became noon, meaning it was time for them to go back to school. If Marinette and Damian were lucky, then they would end up falling asleep as soon as they got back to their dorm, maybe getting six or seven hours of sleep before they actually had to go to class.

It was midnight when the two heirs arrived back in their dorm room. They took turns using the bathroom to shower and brush their teeth, changing into pajama clothes, and attempting to sleep. As it turned out, lucky they were not. Neither of them ended up falling asleep, tossing and turning in their beds, unable to fall asleep. Instead, the two heirs ended up in the kitchen, a kettle of water had been set on the stove for tea, and now they sat at the kitchen island, waiting for it to boil.

“So, how did you like staying at the temple?” The bluenette asked, not bothering to lift her head up from where it rested on her crossed arms that lay on top of the counter.

“Small talk, really? That’s unlike you, Dupain-Cheng.”

“And yet, here I am doing it, so answer my question.” Marinette huffed, rolling her head to the side so she could glare at Damian.

“It wasn’t horrible.” The former assassin answered halfheartedly.

“Al Ghul.” Marinette groaned.

“What?”

“Just answer the question.” the bluenette huffed.

“I did.” Damian pointed out with a smirk, earning another glare.

“Fine.” The former assassin conceded. “I disliked the way everyone would act around you. It reminded me too much of how people from the league would act around my grandfather, mother, and I.” Damian shrugged. “Otherwise it was alright. The foods and drinks were good, the clothes were comfortable and well made, although, the large number of accessories and jewels they would put you in for the ceremonies seemed a bit much,” he admitted.

“Mmm, yeah I agree about the accessories, but I can’t really complain. Most, if not all of the things that they decorate me with are what’s expected of the crowned High Priest or Priestess to wear, although, the Priestesses usually end up with more decorations and feminine outfits than the Priests, who get boxier, more masculine outfits.” Marinette explained, only to be interrupted by the screech of the tea kettle.

They do end up falling asleep eventually. It just so happens that they fall asleep in their third class, not during the hours they spent talking about the annoyances of clothing that was chosen for them, and the way that they had to act and talk as the heir of their respective organization. In all honesty, a majority of the time before school was spent talking about what their families expected of them for being born to their specific bloodlines, and how exhausting it all was.

No one bothered to wake the two sleeping students up, not even the teacher. Instead, they were woken up by the loud, obnoxious school bell, signaling the dismissal of any currently active classes. Both heirs jolted awake at the sound, looking around the classroom, taking back in their surroundings.

Marinette groaned, dropping her head back onto Damian’s shoulder.

“Get up. We can sleep once we’re back at our dorm room.” The former assassin reminded her, jerking his shoulder to force the bluenette off of it.

"Al Ghul, we’ve been up for the past twenty-four hours and only just got an hour, hour and a half of sleep.” Marinette pointed out, dropping her head onto the desk.

With a sigh, Damian stood up, grabbed their school bags, and crouched down next to Marinette’s chair. He grabbed her arms and draped them over his shoulder, prompting the bluenette to blink at him a few times before piecing it together by herself.

“You don’t have to-” The bluenette attempted to protest only to be interrupted.

“You’re right. I don’t. However, I’m already offering, so just climb on and shut up.” Damian instructed, and after a second more of hesitation, Marinette climbed onto his back.

“Thanks,” Marinette mumbled into his neck, her head lolled to the side, resting on his shoulder as she drifted back to sleep.

Damian carries her back to their dorm room, dropping their bags off by the door. He brings the bluenette over to her room but stops in the doorway a moment after having opened the door, debating whether entering her room to put Marinette on the bed would be considered entering Marinette’s personal space without permission. Then again, Marinette was currently asleep on his back with her head tucked to his neck, so he wasn’t quite sure what did and did not count as personal space at the moment.

“Ya gonna stand there all day kid?” A voice from inside the room asked, causing Damian to take a step back in caution of the possible threat.

“Jeez kid, no need to be so stiff.” The voice laughed as a small floating black cat-like creature came into view.

“Plagg, stop scaring him. We’re supposed to play nice, remember?” A new voice scolded the cat-like being, as a red bug of some sort with a black dot on her forehead zoomed up next to the first voice.

“Yeah, well, you’re scaring the kid just as much as I am, so it’s fine, Sugarcube.” The black cat-like being point out with what seemed to be a shrug.

“Right,” the red bug winced, turning her attention to Damian. “I’m Tikki, kwami of creation, fortune, and order, tethered to the ladybug miraculous. It’s nice to meet you.” The newly introduce kwami greeted him. “Come in, you can just put Marinette on her bed, she won’t mind.”

“Okay.” Damian nodded skeptically, stepping into the room, he walked over to the bed, and sat down on the edge, removing Marinette’s arms from around his neck, he got up and gently laid the bluenette down onto her side.

A few more flying creatures came out of nowhere and flew over to Marinette. The beings landed on the pillows, and blankets, some even landed on the bluenette herself, and curled up, seemingly joining Marinette in her sleep. Seeing as none of the creatures were hurting Marinette, Damian stepped out of the room and across the hall into his own room, where he promptly collapsed onto his bed and stared at the ceiling until he fell asleep.

Damian ended up sleeping until the alarm letting him know it was time to leave for his first night class went off. A whole seven hours of sleep later, Damian still felt exhausted but got out of bed nevertheless. He changed into a clean set of clothing before leaving his room and heading for the kitchen to throw together a quick meal, only to find out that his roommate had already made food.

"It was my day to cook." Damian pointed out but didn't protest the warm plate or cup he was handed.

"And I got more sleep than you and have energy reserves I can pull from. Besides, It's one meal." Marinette shrugged, taking a seat next to him with her own warm plate of food and cup of tea.

"Then you won't mind me making breakfast in the morning," Damian asked, raising a challenging brow.

"Be my guest, but I will warn you, we need to make a run for the grocery store after tomorrow's morning classes," Marinette informed him, letting the conversation trail off from there as they continued eating.

Once they were done, Damian took to cleaning the dirty dishes, while Marinette dried the dishes he put in the dishrack and put them away.

"What are kwamis, and why haven't I heard of them if they are tethered to the miraculi?" The former assassin asked, watching out of the corner of his eye as his roommate almost dropped the plate she had been drying in surprise.

"Which one was it?" The bluenette asked with a tired groan.

"What?"

"Which kwami introduced themself, I'm assuming this was when you dropped me off on my bed."

Damian gave a nod of his head in confirmation.

"Tikki was the one who introduced themself after scolding the one they called Plagg."

Marinette rolled her eyes with a shake of her head, used to the antics her kwamis usually got up to.

"Yeah, go figure it would be those two." The bluenette sighed, picking up a new dish to dry off. "To answer your question, a kwami is a god of an abstract concept, and while there is an unknown number of kwamis, there are only nineteen that have been tethered to the pieces of jewelry you know as mircauli," Marinette explained, putting the dish away and grabbing the next one.

"The reason that no one outside of the Order knows about the kwamis is that the guardians have worked incredibly hard to keep it that way. Our job as guardians is to protect the kwamis because they are, in essence, slaves to the wielder of their specific miraculi, and when a guardian fails to protect the kwamis, we end up with a situation like what happened in Paris." The bluenette informs him, grabbing the last dish that needs to be dried off from the dishrack.

"I can see why the creatures that power the miraculi being slaves to the wielder would be kept a secret." The former assassin acknowledged, letting the conversation trail off from there as they moved on to getting ready to leave for class.

Now that Damian knew about the kwamis, Marinette saw no reason why they would need to continue to be locked up in her room, so she allowed them free range of the dorm apartment, which may or may not have been a mistake. One thing was for sure, their dorm was now always buzzing with movement or chatter. The once quiet apartment was no more as the kwamis flew about the dorm but mainly stay in the kitchen where they discovered that Marinette's roommate would give them snacks and treats if he saw them in the area while he was there.

Another month goes by and their school was let out for winter break. The topic of whether or not they would be going home was once again brought up to each other. However, this time the topic was brought up in a completely different way than it had been for thanksgiving break, it was brought up by Damian instead of Marinette.

“What are you doing for break, and would you be opposed to being kidnapped?” The former assassin questioned, taking a seat at the kitchen island, watching the bluenette move around as she prepared their dinner.

“Uhm… I wasn’t planning on going home this break, and what exactly do you mean by being kidnapped?” Marinette asked in return, only spearing a glance at her roommate before going back to work.

“...My family keeps asking about who dropped off and picked me up from the manor for thanksgiving. So far, I’ve taken to ignoring them or temporarily blocking them. However, I figured it would be best to just introduce you so they would stop with their insistent messages." Damian explained, resting his chin in his hand as he leaned against the countertop.

"Oh, that's what you meant by kidnapping? I thought you meant by one of the rogues, or your mother's side of the family." The bluenette laughed, earning a roll of the eyes from the former assassin. "Sure I'm fine with meeting them. What day were you thinking?"

"From the twentieth to the seventh."

Marinette paused mid-chop, looking up at Damian with furrowed brows.

"That's the entirety of winter break." The bluenette pointed out, earning a raised brow from the former assassin.

"Technically that would be four days into break, not the entirety of it." He corrected, causing Marinette to set her knife down instead of throwing it like she most likely wanted to.

"Al Ghul," Marinette said in a tired, clipped tone, narrowing her eyes at her roommate.

"Yes, Dupain-Cheng?" Damian answered.

Green eyes met blue in amusement.

"Let me get this right. You want me, to meet, and I'm assuming stay with, your family for the entirety of winter break?"

"Again, not the entirety of break, but otherwise, yes that would be correct."

Marinette groaned, breaking eye contact to instead stare up at the ceiling.

"It's for all but four days, Al Ghul. It might as well be the entirety of it." She pointed out in annoyance, glaring at her smirking roommate. "Wait a minute- you're just asking me to come meet the family you're still mad at, so you don't have to interact with them, aren't you?"

"So what if I am?" Damian inquired.

The drop of his previously playful tone caused the bluenette to once again meet his eyes.

"That would be fine, so long as you're aware that I will be clinging to you the entirety of my stay, and I mean that both metaphorically and physically," Marinette informs him. "I hate large crowds of unknown people in unknown places, and usually use magic as a comfort, but I'm not risking it in a manor full of bats so I will be using you as a substitute."

"...fine, so long as you give your usual warnings beforehand, I have no problem with it, seeing as the whole reason you will be in that position is that I'm using you." The former assassin conceded.

"Cool, so is there anything I'll need to know or..." Marinette trailed off, picking the knife back up to continue making dinner.

"It might be beneficial for you to be aware of both the Christmas and new year galas you'll be attending with me." Damian pointed out, rubbing the back of his neck.

The abrupt silence of multiple kwamis was so loud that it could be heard as Marinette slammed the knife back down onto the cutting board.

"You're finishing dinner," Marinette states, leaving the kitchen, she disappeared into her bedroom with the slam of her door.

The same kwamis that had yet to make a noise, burst out into rounds of laughter and cackling as some of them went to go check on their guardian.

"Fair enough." The former assassin sighed, stepping down from the kitchen island stool, he rounded the counter and moved over to the sink, washing his hands before walking back over to where the abandoned cutting board sat. He picked up the knife and continued where his roommate had left off.

A few minutes later, a door down the hall opened with a squeak of its hinges, and the bluenette reappeared, walking over to stand in front of her roommate with a pout. This earned her a questioning brow from the former assassin who turned off the stove and stepped away from the hot surface, which just so happened to have brought him further into Marinette's personal space. Taking that as an invitation, Marinette leaned her forehead against Damian's shoulder and just stayed there.

"I'm upset about having to go to a big event full of suck-up rich people," The bluenette admitted as Damian wrapped his arms around her waist, just enough to clasp his hands together. "It's fine, I can do it easily, and have done it in the past. I'm just not a fan of them."

Damian hummed in acknowledgment.

"I could see about having both of us miss the galas?" The former assassin purposed. "I'm more than okay with having an excuse not to attend those events."

"But your family will be attending them?"

"Yes, they will."

"Won't they be upset if you ditch it?" The bluenette stressed.

"It's more likely that they would be annoyed that I have an out, and they do not," Damian explained, pulling away from his roommate, signaling that he was done with physical contact for the time being. "Quit worrying, Dupain-Cheng. Dinners ready." He says, grabbing out two bowls to serve their food in.

The first few days of break come and go until the day Damian said he would be returning to the manor arrived. Both heirs double-checked that they had everything they needed before heading down to the student parking garage.

This time they would be traveling separately, Damian in his car taking their bags, and Marinette on her bike, just in case she wanted to leave at any point during her stay. Which the former assassin gave full permission and encouragement for her to do so if she starts to feel overcrowded or trapped, or even if she just wanted to go out and do something on her own because she can.

They leave for the manor, and despite Marinette's ability to slit lanes, weave through traffic, and speed, she arrives after Damian. His car pulled through the gate and up to the garage instead of the front door. Her bike pulled up behind him a minute or two after Damian was already out of the car and being ambushed by his siblings.

"Hey, you're the one who picked demon spawn up last time." The tallest of the brothers, that seemed to have been waiting for their arrival, pointed out.

"And what of it?" Marinette questioned curiously but uncaring as she removed her helmet. The three brothers seemed to collectively do a double take as she stepped off her bike and put her helmet away in its proper place.

"I was just curious who would be willing to pick the brat up that late at night." The tallest shrugged. "Nice bike, by the way."

"Mm." The bluenette hummed, attempting to grab her bag from Damian, only for him to sidestep her and raise a brow in her direction.

"I can carry it myself." Marinette huffed, walking after the former assassin, unintentionally, or perhaps it was intentionally on Damian's part, leaving the three brothers behind in the garage where they had clearly been waiting with the sole purpose of ambushing their younger brother when he arrived.

"I'm aware." Damian shrugged, moving the bag just out of her reach once more as they headed inside.

"Master Damian, welcome home." An old English man greeted, then turned his attention over to Marinette. "And you must be Miss Dupain-Cheng. It's a pleasure to have you staying with us. I am Alfred Pennyworth, the family's butler."

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng." The bluenette greeted with a bow of her head.

"I trust that you will show your guest to her room and around the manor, Master Damian."

"Of course, I can, Pennyworth. Come along, Dupain-Cheng." Damian tsked, leading her past another group of who she assumed to be more members of the former assassin's family.

They walked up to the second floor, ignoring the Wayne family's curious stares, and down a long hall, took a left, walked a little further, and stopped outside one of the doors.

"This is where you'll be staying while we're here," Damian informs her, opening the door to show her inside, as well as dropping her bag off beside her bed.

"My room is the door across from yours if you need anything." He said while gesturing to the door he was talking about. "Any questions?"

"Yeah, one. Is your family just going to stare at me like I'm some kind of alien the entire time, or just until we're properly introduced?" Marinette asked, taking a seat on her bed, she patted beside herself for the former assassin to do the same, and while he tsked in annoyance, Damian complied either way and sat down beside the bluenette.

"Truthfully, I have no idea." He shrugged, earning a hum from his roommate.

“Okay then.” Marinette sighed, standing up off the bed with a stretch of her back. “You can either help me fix this place up or start working your way through your meditation exercises. It’s your choice.” She says, closing the bedroom door.

Damian rolled his eye but picked one of the choices offered to him kicking off his shoes the former assassin moved to sit with his legs crisscrossed, hands resting palms up on his thighs. He breathes in at a slow, even pace while Marinette moves around the room, placing her protection, concealment, and silencing wards that she had prepared the night before so it would be easy to set them up. She used a storage bead made from energy pulled for Wayzz's specialty and sub-specialties to simplify the process while boosting the overall integrity of the spells.

With that taken care of, Marinette moved on to unpacking her clothes and toiletries. A majority of the clothing went to hang up in the closet with her shoes, with a small portion of them folded and placed in drawers. Soaps, hair products, dental care, makeup, and herbal remedies were put in what she deemed the correct location to store these items during her stay.

Once that was taken care of, the bluenette grabbed her sketchbook, and some drawing utensils, taking a seat on the bed in the corner created by having it pushed up against two walls. The movement disturbed where the former assassin sat, and while he did turn his head ever so slightly in her direction, Damian didn't open his eyes or otherwise acknowledge her presence. More importantly, he didn’t move to break from his meditative state.

It was about three hours later when one of the Waynes finally came knocking on her door. The bluenette not bothering to look up from her book, placed a hand on one of the wards, temporarily disabling the silencing charm.

"Come in." She called, dropping her hand off the ward and onto her sketchbook.

One of the brothers from earlier slowly opened the door until they could see each other.

"So this is where you're hiding out." Damian's brother observes, looking around from where he stood, leaning against the doorway.

"Well yeah. It was the quietest place where all of my drawing supplies are, so it made the most sense to stay here instead of making a mess somewhere else. That and this place is full of strangers." The bluenette informed him, innocently blinking up at Damian's brother from her spot on the bed. She was completely ignoring the fact that he was most likely talking to her roommate and not her.

"Ah, right... I'm Damian's oldest brother Richard Grayson, but I go by Dick." Damian's brother, Richard Grayson, introduced himself.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng." The bluenette introduced herself in return, looking away from her roommate's brother and back at her sketchbook, done with their conversation. The room fell back into silence.

"...So, how do you two know each other?" Richard asked, once again breaking the room's silence.

"What do you want, Grayson?" Damian states more than asked, finally giving up on his meditation to glare at his eldest brother.

"Oh, so you're done ignoring me now?" Richard inquired, receiving no other answer than the continued glare from his youngest brother.

"Alright, fine," The eldest sighed. "Alfred sent me to say dinner's ready."

"Thank you for letting us know. We'll be down in a bit," Marinette informs him, shooing Richard away from over the top of her sketchbook.

The bluenette only waited until the door closed to turn her attention away from the book and over to her roommate.

"Are we going to be down in a bit?" Marinette asked.

Blue eyes met green with genuine curiosity.

"We are." Damian sighed in defeat, uncrossing his legs, he got up off the bed.

"Okay, then let's go," Marinette encourages, leaving her sketchbook and drawing utensils on the bed, she grabs the sleeve of his shirt, giving a small tug in the direction of the door, they started heading down the hallway, and took a right, went down to the first floor, and walked into the dining room.

A few of the Waynes look to see who was entering the room only for their eyes to trail over to where Damian's roommate was holding onto his sleeve. It's a slight change in body language, but something that the former assassin catches with ease, glaring at each family member. Damian eventually sighs and nudges his roommate.

"Hello, I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Al Ghul's roommate over at G.U." The bluenette introduced herself, walking the rest of the way into the room, Damian leads them over to their seats.

"Wait- really? Blink twice if he's holding you hostage or kidnapped you." The only brother from the garage ambush that had yet to speak, says in such a serious tone that Marinette starts to laugh.

"I mean- technically I was willingly kidnapped?" The bluenette says, earning a glare from her roommate.

"What? That's literally the terminology you used." She pointed out in her defense, which earned a pointed look and an eye roll from the former assassin.

"I'm right, and you can't just roll your eyes every time I am."

"Seeing as you are hardly ever right, I believe I can."

"Uh-huh." The bluenette narrowed her eyes.

"Lemon muffins." She pointed out with a raised brow.

Damian opened his mouth to say something, but his roommate beat him to it, holding up a finger for each thing as she began listing off seemingly random things."Umbrella, headphones, power outage, throwing knif-"

"Okay, you've made your point." The former assassin cut her off.

"Have I, though?"

"Yes. You have." Damian conceded, rolling his eyes.

"You did it again," Marinette smirked, pointing at her roommate with her fork, which earned a side glare and a huff as Damian turned away and went back to eating his food.

"...Well, that was an interesting conversation. Care to explain it for those of us that have no clue what just happened?" A blond girl asked while a few of Damian's family members seemed to second that idea.

The two heirs looked at each other and came to a mutual decision.

"Nope!" "No."

"Aw, not even a little explanation?" She tried again.

"See, I would, but then again, I don't know you, and I have to live with him, so it's a no." Marinette shrugged in a what can you do shrug.

"Oh yeah- sorry, I'm Stephine Brown-Wayne, Cass's- oh uh, Cassandra Cain-Wayne's wife." The blond introduced herself, and the ravenette next to her after a nudge from her wife.

"I already introduce myself, but this is my wife Kor'i and our daughter Mar'i," Richard informed her.

Each Wayne took the time to introduce themself. From oldest to youngest it was Bruce Wayne, the head of the family, and his wife Selina Kyle-Wayne. The unofficial daughter Barbara Gordan, who was a family friend. Then it was Richard and his family, Cassandra and her wife. The second eldest son, Jason Todd, who was rumored to have died a while back, and based on the corrupt life energy clinging to him, the rumors were most likely true. Lastly, it was the second youngest son, Timothy Drake-Wayne, whose husband and his family were visiting their grandparents, so she would have to meet them at a later date.

By the time introductions were over, Marinette and Damian had finished their food and were able to make their escape from the dining hall. The pair left, taking their finished dishes into the kitchen and never returning.

"Ten bucks says they made a run for it." Jason wagered as Kor'i and Dick took Mari away to get ready for bed.

"That's a loser's bet, and you know it." Stephanie snorts with a shake of her head.

"At least we know he's making friends." Barbara pointed out.

"He's made a friend. Singular, not plural, and apparently she's his roommate." Tim notes, leaving to most likely head down to the Batcave.

They eventually all make their way down to the cave. Not for patrol, no, it was to look over the profile Barbara and Tim had started compiling after dinner was over.

"Wait- she's the girl from the Scarcrow incident at the airport?" Dick questions in surprise.

"Yep. She looked familiar so I ran facial recognition through Gotham security cameras, and here she is leaving the airport the day of the attack." Tim explains, switching to the security feed inside the airport during the attack. "And here she is with the same outfit, skin tone, and hair color."

"For whatever reason, the cameras couldn't focus on her face enough for any of our software to recognizer her during our first few look-throughs, but with the facial recognition we traced her back to the airport." Barbara continued.

"Past fighting experience?" Bruce asked with an almost bored tone of neutrality.

"uh- yeah, sort of. She's from Paris, specifically a group of school kids known as the Akuma class, so she's ended up in the middle of a lot of akuma attacks. She was also one of the temporary heroes that got exposed," Tim informs them, pulling the appropriate tabs up on the computer.

"Which one?" Stephine asked in excitement at potentially having another female vigilante.

"Multimouse. She was a literal one-woman army with the ability to create temporary clones that disappeared in a cloud of smoke if they got too damaged." Barbara explained, showing a clip of the pink and grey mouse-themed vigilante going to town on an akuma three times her size.

"Damn." Jason whistled in appreciation, "Her technique is solid, and she's not afraid to fight dirty or hit hard. She knew how to fight before being thrown into a mask. No question about it.”

“That’s not even the most interesting part,” Tim states, finally pulling up Marinette’s personal file.

“She was born in a small village called, Ta-to-sa-so-ke Lo-me-na-la-re, which is the noted pronunciation of the village, by the way.” He explained, stumbling over the name. “I can’t find any translations for the original writing, so it’s safe to assume that this langue is most likely native to this village- but I’m getting sidetracked.”

Tim clicked a few things on the screen, he highlighted the seal that had been stamped onto Marinette’s documents and made them bolder in color so it would be easy to see the image as he adjusted the lighting and contrast of the stamp.

“Voila, the league's crest,” Tim says with lazy little jazz hands. The silence that followed was unnerving.

Patrol went on as normal when the time to head out came. The only real difference was that now all of the bats were the tiniest bit distracted. All of them wondering the same thing.

“Did Damian know that his new friend was, potentially with the league?”

They never ended up asking him as the next day was more chaotic than usual with everyone was rushing around to get ready for the gala. Damian and Marinette were nowhere to be seen for a good portion of the day and it wasn’t until Alfred made the last call to start getting into the limo that the two finally reappeared, both fully dress and ready to go.

With all of the Waynes pilled into the limo, they started the drive over to the venue.

All and all, the night was pretty tame. No one attacked the gala. All of the Waynes were on their best behavior. Really, the biggest thing was that Damain ‘Ice Prince’ Al Ghul-Wayne has a date to the gala, which the Waynes already knew about and had figured during the course of the evening that Damian had most likely invited his roommate, someone he seems to be comfortable with having lived with them for half a year already so that she would act as a deterrent for all of the rich heiresses, and it worked.

Marinette didn’t even seem out of place walking around on Damian’s arm, whispering and laughing with each other, almost as if they were in their own little world. And despite the Waynes' original thinking that Damian probably didn’t know that she had been with the league, it was quickly made clear that he did indeed know, after a longer conversation than they thought would happen, Cassandra gave the all-clear.

When the night ended the Waynes went back home.

This had probably been their calmest gala event. Nothing had gone wrong, their biggest worry was who would be winning the bet of tomorrow’s headline would be since they all knew it would be something revolving around Damian’s ‘mysterious’ date. So now each and every one of the Wayens was wound up, waiting for something to happen, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Morning came and each Wayne made their way into the dining room to eat breakfast, doing their best to ignore the nervous buzz in the air as they waited for the stragglers to join them. Eventually, the girl in question comes walking backwards into the dining hall with Damian a few steps behind her. They were evidently having a conversation during their walk, but cut it off with a slight smile and a roll of the eyes as the realization that they were at their destination settled in.

It was silent as the two sat down. Then, Marinette’s small smile grew into a poorly concealed smirk. She grabbed a muffin and handed it to Damian, who took it without a second thought, taking a bite of the baked good only to choke on it a moment later.

Damian threw the muffin at Marinette, glaring at her with no real heat behind it.

“Hey! No throwing food!” The bluenette laughed, being a complete hypocrite as she threw the muffin back.

Alfred cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention to him before a food fight could break out, knowing how this family is.

“Master Damian, what’s so wrong with the muffin that you’ve decided, throwing it was the best course of action?” The pseudo-grandfather inquired with a raised brow.

Instead of an answer from the youngest Wayne, there was a round of laughter from Cassandra who had a muffin in her hands that was clearly missing a bite. The ravenette gestured for her wife to take a bite, and she does, then promptly starts laughing, which makes the rest of the Waynes curious. One by one, they each ended up with a muffin of their own, well, all but Damian who was totally not sulking in his seat, and definitely wasn’t waiting for the opportunity to make a run for it.

While they didn’t understand what had the two women laughing as hard as they were, the muffins were still really good.

“Would you like a muffin Mr. Pennyworth?” Marinette offers with a smile that was just a touch too sweet.

“I suppose I could indulge just this once.” The butler sighed, taking the offered muffin.

He takes a bite.

“My, these lemon muffins are quite good. Would you be so kind as to share the recipe with me? I have a feeling that they will make a wonderful addition to the breakfast spread, so long as they don’t all end up on the floor.” Alfred says with a pointed look at Bruce’s youngest son.

“Of course, thank you for letting me borrow the kitchen this morning.” Marinette cheered, purposefully ignoring the loud thunk of her roommate’s head hitting the table.

“You told Cassandra and Brown, didn’t you.” Damian accused her, and rightfully so since she did in fact, do just that.

“Whatever gave you that impression?” Marinette asked, blinking innocently, she spared a glance at the two women who started cackling again.

Other than that strange start, breakfast continued without any more events, with the exception of Marinette and Damian leaving briefly to go grab cleaning supplies, clean up their mess, and put the cleaning supplies back away.

Winter break continued. They celebrated Christmas, went to the new years gala, celebrated New Year's, and then the two heirs returned to their dorm apartment to continue the rest of the school year.

January went by in the blink of an eye. Nothing notable happened that month.

February turned the school campus into a bigger gossip mill than usual, with who’s dating who and who’s potentially going to ask who out. Marinette and Damian did their best to avoid all of it, even if they did somehow end up with hundreds of candy grams between the two of them.

March was another boring month, or, well, it was a sort of boring month. There was a weird thing that happened with green smoke bombs and glitter that no one ever figured out who was responsible for it.

April there was an easter egg hunt where you could get extra credit for certain classes. Damian and Marinette teamed up to get their schedule’s eggs a collective thirteen times. It was because of this that they had to announce a last-minute rule that you could only collect one egg per class on your schedule. That didn’t mean that the two heirs didn’t get all of their points, on the contrary, they had an ironic one hundred ten percent in each of their classes now.

May had another school break, and this time they went to the Guardian temple instead of Wayne manor. During this break, Damian spent the majority of his time training while Marinette spent it working as the Crown High Priestess. They didn’t actually get to see each other much or that often, which was definitely strange when they were so used to seeing each other every day.

June is finals season so while the two heirs do get to see each other, they’re both overly busy with schoolwork and don’t have time to just sit down and meditate together or spar. To no one's surprise, they both pass their finals with flying colors. The school year was finally over and let out for the summer. Marinette and Damian were given their warning to either sign up for another year in the doors or start packing, but of course, instead of figuring that out, the first thing the two heirs do is start sparing now that they finally have the time.

It was a good way to get out all of the energy they had stored up, and boy did they have a lot of energy. If it wasn’t for the old blood pact keeping them from injuring each other, they would definitely be covered in large patches of ugly bruises. Eventually, Damian is able to pin Marinette.

“Alright,” The bluenette breathes out, sucking in another gasp of air. “You win.” She admits in defeat, letting her head fall back onto the mat as she stops struggling, looking up at Damian with breathy laughter and a bright smile.

For a moment blue eyes met green, and neither one of them could tell you who leaned in first, just that they did. Their lips met for nothing more than a brush of skin, but then they did it again, and again, and again. A slow and sweet experiment as they leaned into the other’s touch before finally breaking away for a more steady supply of air. They stayed where they were, laying on the sparing mats, foreheads leaning against each other, their hot breaths fanning across the lips of the other.

“This can’t be a one-time thing, Damian, I’m not allowed to date around.” The bluenette reminds him as blue once again meets green.

“I’m aware,” Damian murmurs, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “And it’s not.” He answers, getting pulled into another breathless kiss as Marinette rolls them over with a giggle, smiling down at her roommate.

“I’m assuming we’re dorming together next year too?” The bluenette double-checks.

“Of course.” Damian huffed with a roll of his eyes, pulling her back down for another kiss.

[comics-and-fanworks]

ML/DC Bio Mom (Starfire Part 2)

TW for swearing, mentions of suicide, bullying, minor violence

~~~~~~

Marinette’s soon-to-be former class watched in horror as she left with her bio parents. She wanted to leave Paris?? Why?! She was their Everyday Ladybug, they needed her! Who would plan their trips, run their fundraisers, help with their events, and so much more? They began talking amongst themselves, why did she want to leave, and what could they do to convince her to stay? The only two who didn’t look surprised about this development were Kim and Nino, Marinette’s only two allies left in the class. They new Lila was a liar, Marinette didn’t have a mean bone in her body, and they decided to stick by their childhood friend’s side even when it cost Nino his relationship with Alya and Kim his friendship with Alix and Max. They were currently texting Mari a play by play of their classmates’ plans, and soon their lack of shock was picked up on.

“What’s with you two? I thought you’d be more disappointed since Dupain-Cheng is your childhood friend,” Chloe snapped. Nino and Kim looked up from their phones, “Seriously? Why wouldn’t Marinette wanna leave? Our city is currently being held hostage by an emotional terrorist, and with all the shit you all have been putting her through-” “We haven’t done anything! MARINETTE is the one putting Lila through shit and you two took her side!” Alix shouted, cutting Kim off. Adrien could sense things were going south and tried to step in, “Guys come on now isn’t the time! I’m sure Mari-” “No dude, now’s the perfect time since we’re all here. Let’s start with the most recent examples shall we? Lila you said that Marinette’s parents never wanted to see her and that they gave her up because they hated her, then how do you explain the reunion we just saw? You also said she spent the summer doing sketchy things well why do Kim and I have texts from her all summer showing off the complete new wardrobe she had to make? How could she be doing illegal stuff when she was barricaded in her room making clothes?” Nino snapped. He had hit his limit, and so had Kim. Before Marinette asked them not to say anything, because she didn’t want their standing in the class to suffer any more, but they figured that since she was leaving, it was time. Marinette had also informed them about Adrien an his High Road advice, and Nino was almost akumatized. How could his best friend claim to care about Mari when he was fine watching her suffer? As Lila was attempting to think of a response, Juleka beat her to the punch.

“I just texted Luka... He told me that the time she wasn’t spending designing, she was hanging out with him, Kagami, Kim, and Nino. There’s no way she could’ve been doing anything illegal, she has an alibi.” Lila could tell her hold on the class was slipping, “But, but she sent me such awful texts! See! I have them here!” Lila showed her phone conversations between herself and a number, the class, save Nino and Kim, voiced their rage at Marinette. “She told me to kill myself,” Lila wailed, “And that the world would be a better place without me!” Alya shot Nino a nasty glare while going to comfort Lila, the turtle and monkey miraculous wielders were about to respond, when Sabrina piped up, “That’s not Marinette’s number Lila. Her number’s in the class group chat and it doesn’t match,” Lila froze, and so did her fake tears, “Oh... well maybe she has a second phone! That has to be it cause I can’t think of anyone else who’d say that stuff to me!” “We’ll find out,” Sabrina said as she hit the dial button on her phone. The whole table went quite as a phone in Lila’s bag started ringing, and before she could act, Kim swiped it and pulled out the backup phone. He declared triumphantly, “Looks like Marinette isn’t the one with two phones! The numbers match, which proves Marinette didn’t send those texts, you sent them to yourself and tried to frame her! You’re lying!” Finally it clicked for their classmates, if Lila had lied about Marinette’s parents, her summer activities, and her supposedly sending Lila awful texts, what else could she have been lying about? Adrien felt the need to step in, “Guys I’m sure it’s all just a big misunderstanding, there’s no need for any of this!”

“Really dude? We just proved Lila was lying about Marinette, and we have proof she was lying about other things Marinette supposedly did as well! Stealing an answer sheet? It went missing AFTER the test, and we had all seen her studying for weeks! Stealing the pendent? Her locker has no lock on it, and Alya has proven that it’s super easy to break into the lockers at school. Not to mention it was on top of all her things, if she really took it don’t you think Marinette would have hidden it better? And pushing Lila down the stairs? Well check this out,” At Nino’s cue Kim played the video on his phone, it clearly showed Lila walking down the stairs, sitting down, and wailing. “It’s amazing what a request for information can get you these days huh?” Kim laughed, before returning to a serious demeanor, “And that’s not even the worst of it. Adrien knew Lila was lying the whole time. He knew she was manipulating you all and hurting Marinette but instead of supporting Mari, he decided to try and gaslight her into staying quiet,” Adrien’s voice saying, “As long as you and I both know,” echoed around the now silent table. “And here I thought you were a decent person Adrien, if not a little sheltered and naïve,” Nino sighed, the lack of ‘dude’ drove home just how disappointed he was. 

As the class sat in shock processing everything they had just learned, Nino and Kim stood up to leave. Looking back Kim said, “I’m glad Mari’s getting the hell out of here. With all the shit you all have put her through, bullying her, destroying her things, and trying to ruin her reputation it’s amazing she hasn’t been akumatized yet! Come on Nino, let’s go help her pack,” With that the two boys left their classmates, who watched as they walked away, “We should give our evidence to Mari’s parents so they can go after the school,” was the last thing they heard from Nino as the two exited the cafe and headed towards the best bakery in Paris.

When they had arrived, Marinette, Tom, and Sabine had just finished explaining everything to Mari’s bio parents, including Hawkmoth and that their daughter was a superhero. While Koriand’r and Dick were both incredibly proud that their daughter was following in their footsteps, it pained them to hear what their baby had to go through. It pained Koriand’r the most to learn just how much Marinette had to repress her emotions. Tamaraneans were naturally in tune with their emotions, since that was the source of their power, and while they were very expressive in those emotions, they still learned to control them. To hear that her daughter had to repress her emotions to the point of barely feeling anything practically put her over the edge. The only thing keeping her grounded was the knowledge that if she lost control, she would be akumatized and would have to fight her daughter and husband. As they pulled their daughter into a hug, the bell over the door rang, and in walked two of her classmates. Dick remembered Marinette telling them about the two boys standing in the doorway, and that they were her only allies in the class. The taller one, Kim if he was remembering correctly, spoke first, “Hey Mari you may wanna put your phone on silent for a good while... Or change your number! We told them about Lila and Adrien, and well, Chloe never hid her bullying so they already knew about that! Our guess is in about five minutes once the shock wears off and they’re done yelling at Lila, Chloe, and Adrien they’re gonna try and message you to convince you to stay.” The two helped themselves to pastries Tom offered, and the boy with the red baseball cap, which Dick assumed was Nino, continued, “Anyways don’t let them effect your decision dudette, you’ve suffered enough, besides you won’t have to worry about Hawkmoth if you’re not in Paris! That doesn’t mean we want you gone dudette, we’re just worried what’ll happen if you stay.”

Marinette smiled, she was surrounded by people who loved her, and wouldn’t judge her for whatever decision she made, and while she’d love to stay with her adoptive parents and her friends, she knew that she needed to go with her bio parents for her own wellbeing. “I, I think it would be best if I went to Bludhaven. I’m really scared of what would happen if I stayed.” The group around her nodded, in complete understanding. “I still wanna come back and visit Maman and Papa though, and Nino, Kim, Kagami, and Luka too,” Marinette said. Starfire and Nightwing nodded, “Of course Baby Bird! You can visit whenever you want, and if you can’t make it to Paris, we’ll make sure they can make it to Bludhaven. We’ll cover flights and all that stuff, don’t you worry!” Dick hugged his daughter, even though he never wanted to leave his Baby Bird again, he would never keep her from Tom and Sabine. Sabine lit up with an idea, “Why don’t you have a sleepover with Luka, Kagami, Nino, and Kim? That way you could spend time with your friends before you head to America, and that would give the adults time to take care of things with the school. We need to beat some sense into that nasty woman who calls herself a teacher and your useless principal,” The other adults nodded in agreement, while the kids in the room cheered.  

Kagami and Luka arrived shortly after with their parents. Sabine and Tom had called and explained the situation. Much to their surprise, all of Marinette’s friends’ parents had agreed to let their children stay until she had to leave, their only request was to meet Mari’s bio parents so they would know who would be watching their kids when they went to visit Mari in America. As Mari and her friends ran upstairs to begin their sleepover, the parents got to talking. “So my name is Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne’s son, and this is my wife Koriand’r! It’s nice to meet you all!” “Hello! It’s nice to meet you! Your kids have been amazing friends to our daughter, and words cannot describe how much we appreciate it.” As the gathered parents were sharing similar sentiments, Anarka said what they all were thinking, “You two sound exactly like, and look like the heroes Starfire and Nightwing, ” The two in question paused, glanced at each other, and sighed, “Yeah. We are. The reason we asked Tom and Sabine to raise Mar’i is because my wife’s sister is not necessarily a good person, and threatened to kill Mar’i. We wanted to keep her safe, and we knew that she was safer with them than with us. After dealing with that, we had a few more threats we had to deal with, and by the time that was done Mar’i was already seven. We thought it would be cruel to take her away from everything she’s ever known, so we contacted Tom and Sabine and told them that we were ready whenever Mar’i decided she wanted to meet us. We were surprised to learn everything that’s been going on in Paris, with Hawkmoth, Lila, and her class bullying her.” The gathered parents nodded in understanding, and decided to focus on how to go after Principal Damocles and Miss Bustier. 

Meanwhile, up in her room, Marinette and her friends were discussing what to do about Hawkmoth. “We could take him out now, before I leave,” Marinette suggested. The heroes gathered in her room looked at each other and shook their heads. “No. You’re still in a vulnerable state. You need time to rest and allow your mental, physical, and emotional health to recover before we go after Hawkmoth. With your wounds still fresh we can’t risk you being akumatized,” Kagami said, much to the agreement of the others. They looked over at where they had buried Marinette’s phone under a pile of pillows. It was blowing up with her soon-to-be former classmates trying to apologize and demanding she talked to them. “What if you all kept your Miraculous, so that way if there’s an akuma, you all can stall for time until I can get to the fight,” Marinette suggested. The four heroes agreed, and their respective Kwamii shared the sentiment. “Now all that’s left to do is figure out what to do with Chat Noir. If he finds out Ladybug is leaving the same time I am, he might put two and two together.” The group thought about it for a minute before Luka perked up, “What if we tell him that Ladybug’s family is moving just outside of Paris? That way we can account for you not being here to patrol for a while, and why it’d take you longer to get to akumas. We could tell him that your family was tired of dealing with Hawkmoth and decided to get out of his range, but you convinced them to stay close enough for ‘work,’” The group glanced at Marinette’s door. They half expected the cat hero to show up at that moment. After settling on a plan and making sure everyone had their respective Miraculous, the group settled in to watch movies.

Two massive bowls of popcorn and one romcom later, the group was debating on whether to watch Howl’s Moving Castle or Spirited Away when they heard it: A knocking on Marinette’s balcony door. They froze, there was only one person that could be, and it would be no use claiming Marinette wasn’t home, you could hear noise coming from the room. Before she could react Mari found herself stuffed into her bathroom, “We’ll confront him,” Luka whispered, “You hide here.” From the bathroom, she could hear what was going on, “Why did you expose Lila? She could’ve gotten akumatized!” “And let her lie about our best friend? No way dude. What Lila was doing was wrong! She could’ve gotten Marinette akumatized!” “Marinette’s tough she would have been fine!” The conversation was interrupted by what sounded like a popcorn bowl hitting someone’s head. “Ow! Why did you-” “Just because Marinette is though doesn’t mean she has to suffer so someone else won’t face consequences!” Yep, a brilliant throw from Kagami and rock-solid logic as well. “Well, she- Anyways where is she? She said she was leaving, er, Adrien told me she was leaving and I need to show her that’s a bad idea.” “Why do you care anyways alley cat? Marinette’s just a civilian.” “Cause! She needs to fix the mess she made!” “The mess LILA made!” “Well now the class isn’t talking to Lila or Chloe or Adrien and she needs to come back and say everything’s fine so things can go back to normal! So get out of my way!” It sounded like Chat had pushed his way through her friends, and the next thing she knew, her bathroom door was gone. 

“Marinette! You can’t leave Paris! You have to apologize and fix everything!”  Before her stood a very angry Chat Noir, his belt-tail was swishing back and forth, just like an angry cat. Marinette looked around, she was trapped. The only way out of this would be if any of her friends got the jump on Chat, or she transformed, and she was not about to risk her identity being exposed. “NO! It’s not my fall Lila decided to lie! It’s not my fault Adrien decided to let my class treat me like shit! It’s-” “Adrien did nothing wrong!” “Why are you even taking his side in this?” “Cause he’s my friend and he’s right-” “So you think I should be akumatized? You think my stuff should be destroyed? You think I should be shoved, tripped, have things thrown at my head?” “IT WOULD NEVER HAVE HAPPENED IF YOU HAD JUST TAKEN THE HIGH ROAD! YOU’RE COMING WITH ME AND FIXING THIS!” At that Chat grabbed her wrist and began to drag her towards the trap door. Luka, Kim, Kagami, and Nino tried to stop him, but there was little they could do without revealing their identities. Marinette struggled and tried to break free, wondering why the hell his timer wasn’t done yet. Chat threw open the balcony door and was about to pick Marinette up and leap away... but was met with a readied starbolt right in front of his face. Looking up Marinette saw her bio parents in all their glory. Her mother’s powers were activated, and she was floating just above the balcony. Her hair was literal fire, and she was glowing. Behind her on the railing was her father, batons ready, and looking like he was about to break Batman’s no killing rule. They were not in costume, since they rushed up as soon as they heard their daughter screaming and someone else yelling at her, and quickly put two and two together. Starfire spoke, her voice icy and cold despite the roaring wildfire of rage she felt, “Let go of our daughter. NOW!” Chat quickly dropped Marinette and leapt away, too afraid to fight two adult, trained heroes, and too afraid they’d take his ring. Marinette collapsed into her bio parent’s arms sobbing, while her friends gathered around. They kept watch, waiting to see if Chat would return. The other adults quickly ran upstairs, and Nino, Luka, Kagami, and Kim filled them in one what happened.

“If Chat Noir is bold enough to try and kidnap Marinette, then it’s not safe for her here,” Tom practically growled. What he wouldn’t give to be Weredad right now and pummel that mangy alley cat, but that was not what Marinette needed. Sabine nodded, “We’ll have to speed things up. If her classmates somehow convinced that cat to join them, then Marinette isn’t safe anywhere in Paris. We can’t afford to wait, if he comes back we might not be able to get to Marinette in time, there’s also a high chance she’ll be akumatized in the next few weeks. Her classmates will be hounding her, and now we have Chat Noir harassing her as well.” Dick picked up his phone and sent a few quick texts, “We can have the Wayne jet ready in thirty minutes, and we can leave for Gotham tonight. Bruce is taking care of everything, we’ll stay in Gotham for a bit, and then head to Bludhaven, If that’s alright with you, Tom, and Mar’i.” Sabine and Tom looked at each other and nodded. They hated to see their little girl go, but they knew it wasn’t safe for her in Paris. Marinette’s friends hugged her, and promised they’d come and visit. She also promised her friends and adoptive parents that once things were safe she’d come back and visit, and until then they could video call. She packed her things including the Miraculous box, and then tucked in her bio parent’s arms, she made her way onto the Wayne’s jet. Looking back at her family and friends waving to her (Noting each of her friends had their Miraculous) she waved back. Her bio parents assured her everything would be okay, and that they’d do everything they could to make sure she was comfortable in America. She would be going to a new school, a fresh start. All anyone would know is that she’s from Paris, it was a chance to recover and make new friends. For once she felt hopeful about where her future was headed, and as she thought about all the possibilities, she drifted off to sleep wrapped in her father’s jacket, with her mother stroking her hair.