#assassin marinette

[the-anxiety-ridden-writer]

knives on my body, blood on my hands

Chapter One: The House At The End of The Street, The Cabin Buried in the Woods

THE CLOCK HAS BARELY TICKED PAST NINE O’CLOCK when the last light flickers off. Ink black shadows swell in the thin backstreets whilst gray storm clouds obscure any light coming from the shining moon.

The old town plunges into darkness and hidden within it, a little girl revels in it. Tilts her head back and let’s the beginnings of the storm wash over her, as if the rain water that begins to seep into her very being can wash away the red that has stained her soul.

(It can’t, the blood on her hands will transcend lifetimes)

A bright clash of lightning brings her out of her thoughts. She melts into the shadows and continues on her way, making her way down the street with eerie silent footsteps.

Perhaps a lesser man would have stumbled down the street, unable to walk the burrard street without tripping over himself. But the little girl moves with a silent grace in her step, weaving around the bumps and cracks even when she can barely see the boots on her feet.

The training of her handlers, years spent in the Hydra and The Red Room overcoming her. She could walk the streets - could walk a path around the world and still carry the deadly grace and efficiency that they had beaten into given her.

Besides, the little girl was just The Asset to her handlers, Hydra’s own personal Angel Smerti. She was no man, much less one of low value.

The house at the end of the street is quiet when she enters it. The screams of the lightning hide the soft whine of the window when she opens it and the creak of the wooden floorboards when she lands on them.

The Asset squints her eyes, letting them adjust to the darkness and trail over the bookshelf lined walls. She stepped towards the oak desk, lifting one of the files scattered on the surface. She let her eyes scan the pages within before setting it down, letting the words winter soldier, car crash, two victims and serum mull over in her head before filtering it away for later, a loud clatter pulling her attention to the doorway.

A poison slick dagger is already soaring through the air and embedding itself in the figure before she can fully get a good look at them. The figure - a frail, old man with thinning white hair - stumbles back from the force of the knife, dark eyes widening in fear as the Asset stalks over to him.

She gives him quick once over, letting her eyes roam over the man as his muscles begin to tense up until he can’t move at all, until he is nothing but a mere puppet that the Asset can pull all the strings of. A puppet that the Asset can cut all the strings off of.

She carefully ignores how those last thoughts bring a small sense of dread and horror that pools in her stomach. Turn her head to the voice telling her ‘what’s one more body to add to the pile?’ And the voice asking her ‘just how monstrous have you become?’

(too much, far too much for someone her age)

The man finds his voice, previously lost in a sea of gasps and whimpers, “Please.” he begs, eyes wide, a wrinkled hand pressed to the dagger buried within his stomach.

“Please don’t ki-“ the Asset cuts him off, yanking the dagger out and shoving it into his throat. It doesn’t take long for the old man to leave these mortal planes, drifting off to be judged by an otherworldly being that can distinguish a saint and a sinner and never the between. To the otherworldly being that thinks he has any right to judge the actions of a human being trying to survive.

No, Death has never discriminated between the saints and the sinners.

‘And neither shall I’ the Asset thinks, ripping her dagger from his throat to slip back into the many holsters that cover her clothing.

She lugs the old man into the study, manhandling his body into the smooth leather chair, resting his head upon the oak desk, staining the folders with his blood. She stepped back, observing her work with a critical eye. It almost looked like the poor man had fallen asleep at his desk, if you - you know - ignore the blood.

The Asset eyed the scented candles perched atop one of the bookshelves, promptly labeled Cinnamon Sugar! Warm Spring Sunshine! and Peach! The Asset raised an eyebrow, an idea coming to mind.

An idea that would end in the echoing cries of firetruck sirens throughout the quaint street, the horrified muttering of neighbors and the ashes of an old man's study.

•☽○☾•

IT’S DAWN by the time the Asset makes her way back to where her handler—a sleazy, middle aged man that she hadn’t taken the time to remember his name—is currently based.

The sky is a disarray of colors, the sun spilling a cup of bright yellows and exotic oranges over the previously dark canvas. The Asset finds herself staring up at it, and feels a deep longing begin to stir. For the sky ran everywhere. It ran through the deepest of forests and the driest of deserts and over the endless waves of the ocean. The sky ran everywhere, demanding to be seen and heard and free and the Asset found herself envying it.

Truth be told, there used to be a fire in the Assets soul, before she was called Asset and went by the name that had been sewn into a velvet blanket by a woman that may have cared. It would burn through her veins, close to her heart and on days when her trainers would be harder on her than the rest for her heritage or when one of the girls - a pretty blond who went by Rowena - would make a cruel remark about the shape of her eyes, she’d let the fire consume her, let it burn through her and come out of her mouth, searing into them, until Rowena wept ugly tears into her hands and the trainers unleashed a flurry of punches and kicks before demanding an apology. The Asset can’t remember if the girl with her name sewn into a blanket had ever apologized, had never wanted to dwell too much on those memories.

(she hadn’t, the girl took all the pain and torture with her head held high. she refused to apologize for the fire in her soul. )

The Asset shook those thoughts away as the cabin her handler—Ivan Vanko—had holed himself up in came into sight. Just the sight of it, and the thought of facing Ivan had her straightening her posture, wiping any sign of weariness and schooling her face until there were no cracks in her porcelain mask, nothing for Ivan to dig into to expose all her thoughts.

There’s no noise when she enters, the door shutting silently behind her. She tenses, tilting her head to the side before pulling out one of her knives. Moving down the hall, she keeps her senses sharp, With no idea who she’s up against, she waits, muscles wound tight and her mouth a hard line, eyes darting around the slim hallway walls. She doesn’t have to wait long.

A hand thrusts out of the first doorway to her right, a strong pull has her flying through the air and losing the grip on her knife. Pain erupted in her shoulder but she didn't give it the time of day. Instead she rolls to her feet, springing up and throwing every ounce of her strength into the flying kick that sends her assailant slamming into the wall with a yell of pain.

The Asset lets herself breathe, if only for a second. Her eyes assess her assailant — a well dressed man with balding hair — cataloging every weakness she can find, from the way he favors his right side to the fading bruise on his right temple, while he lay recovering.

This time, when he lunged for her, she is ready.

She side steps his attack, digging her knee into his injured side, and sends a sharp elbow into his already bruised face. A loud crack echoes in the room, and when he stumbles back, a scream of pain that can only come from deep within himself, a small twisted part of her is pleased to see his nose is far from the correct position.

Adrenaline thumps through herself, a synchronized sympathy that plays in tempo with her heart. When both he and his little friend that had been waiting, watching in the shadows of the room lunge at her, she already knows who the victor of this battle will be.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is where their dance begins. Or rather, her dance begins.

She dodges his friend's attack, turning and arching her leg in the air, slamming it into assailant number two — a short woman who was barely taller than The Asset — side. It leaves her stumbling back, groaning as she falls like a corpse into the glass table in the center of the room.

The Asset grunts as strong arms encircle her, lifting her up, up, up. She grunts, moving her arm up and once again digging her elbow in his face. It connects with his eye this time, the action leaving him stumbling back, clutching his hand to his eye. The Asset doesn’t give him time to recover, doesn’t have enough sympathy, enough empathy, enough mercy in the body that has been crafted with the fists and guns and needles of the men and women who have used her, trained her, killed her.

It’s why the dagger slips so easily out of its concealed holster and into the man's chest. A cry of agony is silenced with the arc of her leg, her foot connecting with his Adam's apple. He toppled over, hands held to his chest as if he can relieve the pain that she has brought to his body.

She stared him down, the soft creak of wood under her foot echoed like screams around the room. She plants one foot on his chest, pressing down as she pulls the dagger from his chest, baring her teeth behind her ninja-esque mask as he screams.

She leaves the man there, bleeding, beaten, broken and goes to find her handler.

AN: I don’t know what this is, but it’s dumb. I’m also dumb tho and I’m thinking of adding on.

Special thanks to @unmaskedagain , @nightlychaotic and @nobodyfamousposts for introducing me to maribat. I love all of your maribat posts.

Tag list: @avengerthewarrior , @nightlychaotic

[lily-drake]

Previous

Ao3

This is part 4 of my Assasin!Marinette au based around @bambicambi ’s prompts. Thank you for reading!

Lesson 4: Only Entrust Your Secrets To Those You Find Worthy

Prompts:

“Okay, okay, listen, listen,” Marin took her brother’s face into her hands and stared intently into his eyes, “I’m not a good person. I will never be a good person. I am not you. You are not me. Stop. Trying. To. Change. Me.”

She smiled sharply at him, waiting for his response. She’s tired. She is very tired. She has tried, so many times, to change for him. To change her whole world view and be ‘herself’. She has tried to let her guard down, to let her real thoughts be known, and to stop pretending. But shes tired of trying to be something she’s not.

She can’t stop pretending, she can’t stop being alert, she can’t voice her thoughts, and she can’t change for him. She has tried and failed to change for him. She loves her brother, so much, but she can’t be what he wants her to be.

“Ukht..”

She slowly let go of his face, ignoring the urge to flinch at the name. She calls him Akhi. She calls him Damian. She calls him Little Brother. She does those things. He never does. He only ever calls her Marin. Her name. Never Ukht. Never little sister. Never nicknames.

Her natural reaction was to lash out. To be bitter and mad and to put up a wall and keep him at a distance. It’s a defense mechanism. But shes been taught to do the opposite of her natural reactions. So… she grinned.

“Akhi.”

She could see the signs in his face, in his body language, in the way he’s breathing. He knows she’s putting up a show. He knows. He sees right through her.

But at the same time he doesn’t. She’s fine with that.

“Ukht.”

—————

Damian: ...what??

Jon: she completely changed-

Damian: her molds.

Jon: no. no, you don't understand. Her heart beat was beating unbelievably fast and them once she shrugged it went from 100 to 0...

Damian: what are you saying.

Jon: I'm saying thats... not normal. She could change her heart beat by will, Damian!

Damian: i can do the same.

Jon: no you can't.

Damian: I can? We were trained to-

Jon: yes and no, there is a difference between you two, Damian. Her's was completley natural. Completely. I could tell-

Damian: isn't everything natural-

Jon: Damian!

Damian: I'm just trying to understand, Jon.

Jon: her heartbeat. Went from 100 to 0. It was like she completely changed into a different person.

Damian: I explained to you already, Jon. Those are her molds... they are similar to different people.

Jon: ... that's messed up.

Damian: I agree.

Jon: so messed up.

Damian: yes.

Jon: I hate the league.

Damian: as do we.

——————

Marinette: *crying* ...

Tim: *sitting beside her* ...

Marinette: ...

Tim: do you ever think about whether or not what we're doing is worth it?

Marinette: *whispers* yes.

Tim: *grabs her hand* what do you feel about it right now?

Marinette: *curls around herself* that it's so unfair and so not worth it.

Tim: *squeezes her hand* I know.. *sniffs, hoarsely* I know it doesn't feel worth it at the moment…

_____________

Damian stared out the window of the small car occasionally picking at the strap of his bag.  It was complete silence for the majority of the ride, only the sound of the car moving on the road and through traffic could be heard.  That was until Grayson cleared his throat and asked,

“You doing okay?”

Damian simply rolled his eyes, never taking his gaze away from the window.

“I’m fine Grayson.  She can take care of herself.  Besides, she’ll contact me when she’s ready.  She would never abandon me.”

He clenched his fist around the strap of the bag ignoring the thoughts saying, ‘but didn’t she just do that?’ or, ‘she’s already gone.’  No, she did what she felt she needed to do for survival.  Father had threatened her and-and he had pushed her too far.  Their fights resurfaced and he bit his lip to hide his sorrow and frustration.  One fight specifically came to mind, and now it would forever haunt him.

*

“Okay, okay, listen, listen,”

Marin took her brother’s face into her hands and stared intently into his eyes,

“I’m not a good person. I will never be a good person. I am not you. You are not me. Stop. Trying. To. Change. Me.”

She smiled sharply at him, waiting for his response.   He could see the tired look in her eyes, the bags that colored under her eyes from her sleepless nights.  She was waiting for him to refute.  He believed she could change, that she was a good person, that she could drop the molds completely.  He believed that one day she could push through the trauma and be herself and let her guard down.  They weren’t in the League anymore, their father would keep them safe and away from them.

“Ukht..”

He began but stopped seeing the small glint of fear in her eyes.  Did she not like it when he called her sister?  Did he do something wrong?  He continued to stare at her, her face not body betraying how she truly felt about the name.  Slowly she let go of his face and took a step back with a sigh replying,

“Akhi.”

He continued to watch her and saw the ever so slight twitch of her fingers and knew she was either frustrated or nervous.  She was putting her walls back up, using a mold.  It wasn’t Marinette, but he could tell she was using one of them.  He saw through her act, saw that she was trying to shove everything down and hide again, he knew that she was still pretending in front of him, and it hurt.

“Ukht.”

He said one more time and watched as she walked out of the room.  She was done with the conversation, but it certainly wasn’t the last time they had it.

*

That was one of their more civil conversations about that topic, sometimes they got heated and there was lots of yelling.  He wouldn’t be surprised if the others had heard them argue about it those few times.  Dick didn’t say anything else but looked rather tense and kept glancing at him.  He could see the worry and pity in his eyes and it irritated him to no end.  He was fine, he knew she would be fine and that she would come back when she was ready, she always came back in the end.  She was too strong to ever fall at the hands of anyone, she just needed time to find who she was….without him.

He didn’t know how long they had driven when they began to drive up to a large ‘T’ shaped tower.  When they stopped he quickly hopped out of the car and saw a bunch of other teens and Jon jumping excitedly in place.  He looked to his other side and saw his brother Grayson shake hands with a tall lady with orange skin, fiery red hair, and glowing neon green eyes.

“This is Damian, Damian this is Koriand'r, also known as Starfire.”

The lady bent down and gave him a bright smile that he despised,

“Hello Damian, it’s nice to meet you.”

She stuck out her hand for him to shake, but he just glared at it and turned away.

“I’ll be in my room.”

As he walked to the entrance all of the other children parted, except Jon who just followed him.

“So..”

Jon began once they were in the elevator,

“Where’s Marin?  Is your dad finally beginning to-”

“She left.”

Was his brief response as he crossed his arms and glared at the door.  Silence filled the small space for a few brief moments before he nervously asked,

“Like on a mission?”

“No, father… ‘tested’ her,”

He said placing air quotes around the word, “tested”,

“It was too much and she ran away.  She said she was going to go back to the league and that she left with Todd.”

The silence that followed was so tense it was almost suffocating.  He glanced over at Jon when he heard him breath a sigh of relief.  Damian raised a brow in question at his friend’s companion’s reaction.  He gave a shy smile and rubbed his neck in an awkward motion before replying,

“I checked for her heartbeat and found it.  She’s with Jason, but she isn’t with the League.”

That’s right, Jon has super hearing, he could find her and tell him!  He turned to face his friend and demanded,

“Where is she?!”

Jon gulped and shook his head as a shiver ran down his spine.

“I’m sorry Damian, but have you met your sister?  She is worse than you, if I told you..”

Another shiver ran down his spine as he hugged himself,

“I’d rather keep my life and not be tortured by her.  You didn’t hear the threat she told me when we first started hanging out.  She’ll tell when she’s ready, until then, I can’t say anything.”

Damian glared at him but knew that he was right, that didn’t mean that he would give up.

“I have kryptonite in one of my pockets.”

He threatened as they stepped out of the elevator that was now open to the hall that led to the rooms.

“Yea well Marin told me that she would…”

He stopped and paled,

“you don’t want to know.  How are you considered the violent twin?”

“She always uses her molds.”

A short pause,

“Right.”

Was Jon’s reply.  Jon remembered when he had been talking to her about school work and her molds.  She had been nervous, her heart rate had spiked, then it… just…..changed.  He had talked to Damian about it right after.

*

Damian had looked at him weird when he had asked what was wrong with Marin and if she had some kind of condition.

“...What?”

He had asked with a raised defensive brow and he could see his hand reaching for his katana.

“She completely changed-”

He began in a non accusing manner raising both of his hands up in an act of surrender.  Damian quickly relaxed immediately responding,

“Her molds.”

As he looked back down at the book he was currently reading.  Jon raised a brow and quickly said getting closer to Damian trying to get him to understand what he was trying to convey,

“No.  No, you don’t understand.  Her heartbeat was beating unbelievably fast and then once she shrugged it went from 100 to 0…”

He began to trail off as Damian let out a sigh and looked back up at him.  Raising his brow once again he asked,

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,”

Jon said trying to emphasize his words for his friend to understand what he was trying to get through to him,

“That’s… not normal.  She could change her heart beat by will, Damian!”

Damian rolled his eyes returning to the book offhandedly replying,

“I can do the same.”

Jon sighed in frustration replying,

“No.  You can’t.”

“I can?”

He replied in a sarcastic question,

“We were trained to-”

Jon then interrupted him, understanding what his friend meant.

“Yes and no, there is a difference between you two, Damian.  Hers was completely natural.  Completely .  I could tell-”

“Isn’t everything natural?”

He offhandedly asked.

“Damian!”

Jon yelled, crossing her arms and glaring at him slightly.  Damian sighed once again and closed his book completely and looked him in the eyes.

“I’m just trying to understand, Jon.”

“Her heartbeat.”

Jon said slowly emphasizing his words,

“Went from 100 to 0.  It was like she completely changed into a different person.”

Damian glared at the wall past Jon’s head and said as he steepled his fingers together.

“I explained to you already, Jon.  Those are her molds…”

He paused for a moment before continuing,

“They are similar to different people.”

Jon was processing what he meant and he felt his heart sink as he thought about what his friend must have gone through to be able to do that.

“So messed up.”

He whispered as he stared down at the ground beneath them.

“Yes.”

Damian simply agreed, slowly opening the book back open and trying to find the page he left off on.

“I hate the league.”

Jon spat.  He had seen all of the scars and injuries that littered her body.  There were so many, he often wondered how she was still alive.

“As do we.”

Damian whispered as silence filled the room they were in.

*

They had arrived at Damian’s room and Jon sat on his bed while he watched Damian unpack.

“She’ll come around when she is ready Damian, we both know it, she’s too loyal, especially to you.”

Jon quietly said as he watched Damian place a dagger on a holder with the utmost care onto the wall.  Damian didn’t say anything and he only knew Damian had heard him was the slight nod he had given him.  Quickly Damian turned and started stalking to the door,

“I demand you show me where the training facility is.”

He called as he left, Jon gave him a sad smile and quickly flew over to him and led him to where the training room was.  He knew that his friend needed to let go of the pent up rage and aggression that he was obviously hiding, so he wouldn’t say anything more about the topic.  Instead he rattled on about how they would both be able to carpool together to school, and about some of the missions they had gone and that he would be a part of, and about how cool the others on the team were.  Hopefully he would be able to make a good impression for them so that they won’t meet the end of Damian’s blade for their first meetings.  He had been there and done that, and even if the sword he had couldn’t hurt him, it still scared him to no end.

__________

Damian had found his new team…...interesting to say the least.  They were similar to his family, but also very different in the way that they interacted.  Beast Boy was his least favorite on the team, but he could turn into animals, so he was adequate he guessed.

Next was Blue Beetle, he was very powerful but relied too much on the alien stuck to his back to protect him.  He needed more training and to learn more self reliance or else he would end up dead.  Not to mention that he did not have full control over the thing, that could be his downfall one day if it got upset and attacked leaving Jaime vulnerable to an attack.

Raven was a very interesting character, and one that he respected.  She mostly kept to herself, but he didn’t trust her.  She held too many secrets, she was too much of an unknown for him to feel comfortable around her.  She could put them in danger because one day the magic she has won’t be enough, or it could lead to their doom.

Starfire was too cheery.  She doesn’t completely comprehend things or think through things like she should.  She didn’t look into any of their pasts, didn’t put up any contingencies, she just led blindly and that would weaken their team.  It didn’t help that his brother Nightwing had an all too obvious liking for her.  Subtlety was never his strong suit.

Damian watched in silence as his new team interacted with each other.  He needed to find their weaknesses and study them so that he knew what to do in case they turned on him for any reason.  He could tell that Raven was studying him too, she was aware and absorbent and slow to trust, he respected that.  Better to be weary and live than be trusting and be dead.  They didn’t talk to each other, but there was silent respect that passed between the two that both could feel.

His thoughts wandered back to their father and what he was doing and if he was trying to find Marin.  There was a part of him that wished he was, but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it wasn’t true, but he didn’t want to believe it.  Their father would not be like their grandfather, he wouldn’t be like Mother, or her old handlers.  He would do what was right, and that would be to find his sister, his daughter, and try to bring her home after asking for forgiveness.  It was all wishful thinking though, he knew it was, but he could imagine that’s what was happening.  In reality Drake and Gordon were probably the only ones looking, Pennyworth probably already knows where they are or will know very soon.  Alfred knows everything and while frightening at first, one would get used to it after years of living with him.  It didn’t help that Kent knew where she was but refused to tell him.  Not to mention that she was with Todd of all people.  No, it did not hurt him that Todd was more trusted in her eyes than he was, he didn’t care, but one bit.

He needed to clear his mind, this kind of thinking was never good and would cloud his judgment.  He could not make a mistake, he was above it.  Quietly he stood and walked to his room where he practiced his forms.  It was relaxing, almost therapeutic the way the sword moved with him.  It was an extension of himself and he felt naked when he did have at least one of his katanas with him.  The movements started out slow, but the racing thoughts only grew louder.  He wasn’t good enough, he wasn’t trusted.  He thrust his sword forward making a whooshing noise, his grip tightened on the hilt.  He was a failure, he helped break her, he didn’t help her in the way she needed it.  Fast, his forward thrust harsh and promised a painful demise if someone was in front of it.  Self deprecating thoughts were too loud in his head, too much, he had never felt this way before and it was overwhelming.  The sword escaped his grip seamlessly flying through the wall where a startled cry sounded.

“Watch it dude!”

Beast Boy yelled as he banged on the wall harshly,

“You could hurt someone with that.  Hasn’t your mother taught you not to play with knives!”

He rolled his eyes at that.  It was quite the contrary actually, he was encouraged to play with them.  Tasked to find the most comfortable weapon for training so he could carry out his tasks flawlessly.  He turned to stare out the window, ignoring the sword still embedded in the wall.  It was dark, the moon was out, but it wasn’t full.  Clouds covered the skyline covering up the few stars that were able to shine through the light of the city.  He looked down and saw Raven in front of a fire meditating, he didn’t know what to feel about her.  He had hacked into the database, but there was nothing about her, no information, only that she wasn’t from this world.  That could have fatal consequences, not to mention she was a magic user which made her all the more dangerous as magic was spontaneous and hard to plan around.

He hadn’t realized he had been walking towards where she had been outside until was in the tree line watching her.

“It’s rude to stare.”

Damian’s glare grew, he didn’t understand her and it frustrated him to know end.  He needed information on everyone, but he just couldn’t seem to get any on her.  He stepped out into the light of the fire and stared the girl down.  She hadn’t opened her eyes or even flinched, meaning she could sense other presences.

“What are you even doing out here?”

He demanded as he stared the girl down.

“Meditating, anything beyond that is none of your concern.”

He grit his teeth in frustration.

“Everything here is my concern, just like it should be yours.  You're hiding something.”

She opened one of her eyes and looked at him before dryly replying,

“So are you.  We all are.  It’s none of your business what until it’s time to be said.”

His glare deepened as Raven simply closed her eye and resumed what she was doing as if he was never there in the first place.  He growled and stomped away.  It was his business, secrets equaled faults, faults equaled failing, failing equaled death.  It’s why Marin had to leave, she kept secrets, she wouldn’t let anyone know anything, it created problems, it created a rift, then she left.  If he could get the others to trust their secrets to him then he could keep the team together, there wouldn’t be any betrayal.  How would he do it was the question, maybe he could get Grayson to gather the information and report it back to him.  Maybe, just maybe, he could finally do something right.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *

Tim stared at the blank screen in front of him.  He looked at the tracker on her Hummingbird uniform and noticed it was atop a building, he highly doubted that was where she was.  She was too careful, she planned more than him, her mind was constantly on high alert and paranoid.  They were similar in a way, where his goal was to never make a mistake, hers was to always be perfect.  Most people would think it was the same, but there was a difference.  She and Cass got along really well together, the three of them seemed almost inseparable.  He realized that Cass didn’t know what had happened, she was currently on assignment with Kate and Steph in Hong Kong.  He had often heard Damian and Marinette arguing, he tried not to eavesdrop……, buuuuuut he was curious.  Damian had been loudly yelling about her being herself and not “Marinette”, she was yelling about how he should stop trying to change her, and that she was a terrible person.  Of course he knew she was acting when he first met her and when he watched her interact with the others, there was no way someone from the League of Assassins, especially born and raised there, just came out of that unscarred both mentally and physically.

Bruce had told him his suspicions of her and told him to be on the look out for if she would try to harm them in any way.  The more he was around Marin though, the more similar they seemed.  Both had the same sleep schedule, which is to say they didn’t sleep at all.  He could tell when she was plagued by nightmares by how glazed her eyes would be, they both were driven by caffeine, they both had a more calculative way of fighting; she was better at striking and fast acting than him though, his goal was to never make a mistake, hers was to be perfect.  Those were two different things, yet they were still similar in a way that only Marin, Cass, and Tim would know.  She wasn’t a threat, not once had she ever acted out physically on them, but she had said and acted in a completely different way before.  Tim bit his lip realizing what she must have been doing.  Marin didn’t show much, she was guarded and knew how to keep herself in check at all times, but sometimes her fingers would twitch ever so slightly, or her nose would scrunch up a bit, or her eye would twitch ever so slightly.  She had tiny tells, tells you would need to pay close attention to to even notice they existed.  He had seen them, and they happened frequently when she had changed so suddenly.  Now that he thought about it, and adding some of the information he got from their fights, it was her trying to be herself.  They pushed her away though by leaving her alone, by Bruce never talking to or acknowledging her and her efforts, by attacking her for no reason.

He typed at the keyboard harshly as his thoughts flickered around.  Dick and Damian were lucky to be able to leave in his eyes, Tim wanted to be searching for his little sister, the only one, besides Cass, that truly seemed to understand him.  She constantly was someone else around them, she didn’t like to be herself.  There was something she hid from, it wasn’t just them, it was something else.  No doubt things from her memories, if memory served him correct she was considered one of the league’s best field agents.  She didn’t talk about it much, but what little he’s gotten she was tasked with things that not even Damian has been through.  Ra’s was sexist, she was born first, she was their experiment to see what was enough or too much for the future heir of the League, for Damian.

There were a few nights that stood out to him, when she would reveal small things to him knowing that he would be able to piece what she said together eventually.  One night though, one night stood out to him the greatest.  He could never forget it, because it was the first time he had seen her break, her guard had dropped.  No one else was in the house besides Alfred, but he was in the batcave monitoring the others on patrol.  Tim had been benched for a stab wound he had gotten about a week prior, and because no one could tale or follow Marin, she was benched too.  They had been in one of the main rooms resting on the couch, Tim working through some cold cases and Marin just staring blankly into the distance.  She had been eerily quiet, and he was getting worried because usually she would talk or joke with him, even work with him.  She just sat there though, and that was never a good sign.  He looked over at her and noticed her sleeve was pulled up, which was very rare as she always wore long sleeves and refused to show her upper arms.  From the light of the computer he could make out scars, old ones, but painful ones.  He hadn’t realized what he was doing until he touched her arm and traced the length of it. Her sleeve was rolled to her elbow, but he could tell that the scar went farther up which was scary considering it also rounded almost her entire arm.

“What happened?”

*

He asked breathlessly, he couldn’t take his eyes off of it even if he could barely see it from the dull light his laptop provided.  He heard her suck in a sharp breath and was quickly snapped out of his trance.  He looked up at her face and saw her eyes glaze over in what appeared to be held back tears.  When she opened her mouth all that came out was a soft sob, and by her reaction to it she did not intend for it.  Tears fell down her cheeks and Tim didn’t know what to do.  She was always so well composed, always wore a smile, even if it wasn’t real, she never let her emotions get the better of her.  He knew that it was only a matter of time until her bottle finally cracked, especially since she could never let it at the League.  She was like everyone in the family in the way they compartmentalize everything until they just couldn’t take it anymore.  Marin didn’t say anything after that, but the tears kept flowing down her cheeks as she finally just let herself feel.  Tim didn’t move, but stayed by her side knowing that even a silent companion could help.  A few minutes of silence passed them before Tim whispered out,

“Do you ever think whether or not what we’re doing is worth it?”

There was another few moments of silence before Marin whispered back,

“Yes.”

He looked back down at her arm and saw her tracing different scars she no doubt memorized on her skin.  Gently he took her hand trying to show her that he would be there for her, that he would be her brother no matter what.

“What do you feel about it right now?”

Marin brought her knees up to her chest, she wasn’t faking, she was allowing herself to be vulnerable.  She had never had this opportunity like this before, it was new, and she didn’t really know how to feel about it.  She didn’t know how to respond to the question either.  She often thought this in the league, she thought this after she had finished her mission, she thought this when a target had been dealt with at her hands, she thought this as she stood next to her father that never acknowledged her existence, she thought this when Damian tried to get her to stop pretending, she thought this often, but she didn’t really know what to feel now.  Though, when she thought of all the blood her hands have been stained with, as she thought about how different she was from her brother and his expectations, as she thought about her handlers and her training, as she thought about how little trust her father had in her, she had her answer.

“That it’s so unfair and so not worth it.”

Tim had watched her while she thought. Her face was blank for the most part, but he knew what to look for, the little things that gave away what she felt.  Her answer though, he understood it.  He had lost his parents, while they weren’t the best and constantly neglected him, they were still his parents.  Jason and Damian had tried to kill him multiple times, Dick had simply rejected him when Bruce had disappeared, he had thought his teammates had died multiple times only for it to be a trick, not to mention the Joker Jr. incident.

“I know...”

He could feel his own tears start to well up in his eyes and had to sniff a little to make sure he didn’t let his nose run.  He squeezed her hands a little tighter trying to convey his understanding and care.

“I know it doesn’t feel worth it at the moment…”

*

He took a deep breath getting his words in order so he could do something right and comfort her.

“I promise though, one day when you find out for yourself what you truly want to do and be, that everything that has led up to that moment will make it seem like it was worth it.  Things for you, and you especially have been challenging and just horrible.  You are not like Damian, and I mean that in so many ways.  He shows his emotions, he is not afraid to let them out, but you, I can by the way you talk and the actions you take, that you just can not.  You have been trained to change, to adapt in a way that he does not understand.”

He paused, gauging her reaction and letting her process his words before continuing,

“It definitely doesn’t seem worth it now, and maybe it may never be worth it.  That is for you to decide, and only you.  One day you’ll be able to escape and leave, find yourself, make a name for yourself by yourself.  Marin, you’re more than your scars, more than the training you were forced into.  Fate has a weird way of messing with us, so it may seem worth it now, but I promise you, it will be.”

Marin stared into his eyes, and it felt like he was staring into his very soul trying to figure out the hidden motive behind his words.  Truth be told, there was none, he respected her too much to trick her.  She was his little sister after all, and he would protect her with everything he had.  After she had found what she was looking for he wasn’t expecting to be pushed onto his back on the couch.

“You all need to stop trying to tame me, I’m the tiger here.  Damian is the house cat, and while he will accept it I will destroy you all.”

Tim blinked in surprise, a smile soon taking over his face as he realized what was happening.  Quickly he grabbed her wrist and dragged her down with him, but that backfired as she proceeded to roll and shove him off the couch as she stole his laptop and began to work on the cases he was working on while in his spot.

“Go to bed Timothy, it’s been four days.”

She said with an eye roll as he continued to just lay on the floor and glare up at her.

~~~~~~

He hadn’t realized how lost in thought he had been until he felt someone poke his side and he jumped.  He turned and glared at whoever it was only to see Babs.  He gave her a sheepish smile and went back to typing up the report he was working on on the Batcomputer.

“Think she’ll come back?”

Babs whispered.  The Marin and Babs were never very close, but they were close enough and enjoyed messing with Damian when able to.

“Honestly, I don’t know.”

Tim began pausing his typing but letting his hands hover over the keyboard.

“I just hope that whatever she decides to do now that she’s away from B will make her happy and that it will be worth it to her.”

Babs silently nodded and stared at the giant screen before them.  After a few moments of the tense silence she asked,

“Want to leave this to B and help me mess with Bruce’s stuff?”

Tim smiled wickedly.  Oh, they would do more than mess with his stuff, he drove their baby sister away from them.  Bruce would regret all of his life choices once they were through, especially when they contacted the girls about the situation, which he would leave to Babs.  All Hell was about to break loose, and it would all be Bruce’s fault.

Next

[maribat-fic-library]

Hello, I don’t know if you found this already but I am looking for a fic where Marinette is Damian’s slave from the league and she is scared of Jason and I think it ended up with Timmari. Do you think you could find it?

I Would Like One Family Please by Celestial_Void_the_3rd

[icerosecrystal]

The Eldest Al-Ghul Wayne - Prologue

Marinette Al-Ghul Wayne was a mistake. Those were the words that her grandfather had ingrained in her head from a young age. At the age of 25, Bruce Wayne, her father, was seduced by Talia Al-Ghul. During the time she was pregnant, Talia and Ra’s made many plans about how her heir would take over the League of Assassins. When the time came for Talia to give birth, the baby arrived not a male, but rather a female. Ra’s was furious with the development, storming off after informing Talia to name the mistake whatever she saw fit. 

After that, Ra’s found no use in Marinette. Deeming her unworthy of her blood, and so, she was tossed aside. Her mother took pity on her, teaching her in secret about how to wield many different weapons. The training was harsher than most would have endured, but her mother wished for her to survive as an assassin. Talia wished for her daughter to prove her worth, so she taught Marinette the secret of the Miraculous. These were ancient jewelry that belonged to the Order of Guardians, a group that was originally in relation with the League of Assassin, but later went their separate ways. 

By the age of four, Marinette had exceeded the expectation of her mother and had managed to complete training generally used for assassins at the age of nine. But it was at that age that Ra’s took an interest in her once again, not as his heir, but rather to see what she was capable of. And so, she was sent on many missions. Most of them, she completed easily. But there were a few exceptions in which she got greatly injured or died on a mission. And each time, Ra’s would begrudgingly throw her in the Lazarus Pit after an endless amount of begging from Talia. 

One day, when Marinette was five almost six years old, her mother came back from a mission. When Marinette went to greet her mother, she found something floating in a test tube full of green goop. Her being the curious five-year-old that she was asked, “Mother, what is that thing floating in the tube?”

Talia looked over to her before answering, “Why Marinette, that is your little brother.”

Marinette upon hearing this grew worried, would her mother leave her for dead once her supposed brother was born? Marinette silently left disregarding the slightly disappointed look Talia sent her way. If she was to be replaced, she might as well do all she can to make it count.

Marinette trained harder than she ever had before. She realized that becoming the only one in the league fluent in the guardian’s tongue would solidify her worth. If she was the only one capable of reading, writing, and speaking this language, Ra’s would have to think twice before getting rid of her. And so for months on end, she studied the books, the language, everything about the order. And by the time a month was left for her brother to be born, she knew every little detail about the order. 

Marinette was now aware that the Lazarus Pits were created from Plagg letting out a huge amount of destructive energy from his being, creating the Lazarus Pits. It was meant to save one of Plagg’s chosen that he had grown attached to. Not willing to let the human, his chosen go, he purposely released the destructive energy. Plagg had tried to keep it a secret, but his chosen saw it as a miracle that needed to be shared.

Plagg’s chosen then informed Ra’s. That was how Ra’s became aware of the Pits and misused them. As Marinette continued reading more about the order, she continuously grew disgusted with both the order and the league. They had misused the god-like creatures known as kwamis and their gifts so much and so often. These Kwamis were unable to disobey their master's command, they were slaves in all but name. ‘What a sad fate for a god.’ Marinette wasn’t able to look at anything the same way anymore. Now each time she was thrown in the Lazarus pit she felt guilty to be using it for her gain. Each time she saw Ra’s misuse a gift of the kwamis, she felt an undeniably large amount of anger towards him. 

It was a normal day like any other when her mother found her sulking about what the league did. When Marinette asked her mother why the league would do such a thing she replied in a very harsh tone, “You will not question the authority of me nor your grandfather. If we did not use the pits you would already be dead. Would you want to be dead, Marinette?”

Marinette angrily yelled, “I would rather be dead than misuse something so precious!” It was then that she felt a sharp sting in her cheek. Her hand flew up to cradle her cheek while looking at her mother in disbelief.

Talia didn’t acknowledge anything rather gritting out, “You will NEVER speak like that to me EVER again! Do you understand me, Marinette?!”

Marinette nodded numbly, before rushing off. The slap didn’t hurt at all, but Marinette felt betrayed. Throughout her life, her mother was always there for her. Even if she sometimes didn’t show it, Marinette knew that her mother cared about her. But now, she wasn’t so sure.

As she continued running she stumbled across the room in which her baby brother was in. She quietly crept inside the room making sure no one was inside. When she confirmed that there was no one there she walked towards the tube. Inside the tube, Marinette saw her baby brother, he seemed to have tan skin much like their mother, a stark contrast to Marinette’s paler skin that she inherited from their father. Her baby brother also had black hair like their father, similar to her own but lighter. Her own hair was such a dark black that it looked blue when any source of light was shining on it. She couldn’t see his eyes as they were closed but she wondered what color they would be. 

As she gazed upon him, Marinette made a decision. No matter what would happen, she would always be there for her baby brother. She would give him the love and support she had always wished she received as a child. He deserved that much. As Marinette stepped closer to the tube, she put her hand against the cool glass leaning her forehead against it as well. She then closed her eyes and softly whispered both to herself and her baby brother the words that she had wanted to say for a long time. “You will never be alone, little one. I will be there for you, every step of the way to offer you all the support and love you will ever need. I will always protect you… akhi.”

Taglist: @jinx-jade, @legodetectivemalsblog, @moonlightstar64, @our-preciousss

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

[jinx-jade]

Marie Anne Cain Part 1: Trial by Fire

Marie Anne Cain had been created for one purpose.

She was created as a backup plan in case her older sister Cassandra Cain fails her given task of guarding the Al-Ghuls.

If her older sister were to fail then it was her job to become a perfect weapon, ready to be used in whatever way the wielder desires.

At least, that's what she had heard from the other League members.

Marie Anne Cain was kept in isolation for the most part.

One room.

No bed.

Dried-out dirt floor.

No windows.

One door.

No light sources.

The only contact with other humans she would receive was the nurse assigned to her, the assassins who would randomly attack her, and on the rare occasion, her father.

The nurse was in charge of taking care of her injuries, giving Marie 'new' clothes, and any other hygiene tasks.

The nurse never talked.

She had been ordered not to talk just like the assassins had.

It really didn't matter that no one talked to her.

The red and black bug talked to her while she slept.

So did the black cat.

And the green turtle, the yellow bee, the orange fox, the purple butterfly, and many other little different colored creatures.

The League had decided that while her older sister Cassandra would receive training, she would only learn from trial by fire.

If she wished to learn how to fight, then Marie Anne Cain had to learn by observation, and by trial and error. No one would teach her.

She couldn't learn much from the assassin that kept attacking her because they always killed her too quickly.

So the little creatures that talked to Marie in her sleep brought people to teach her.

The red and black bug brought an Amazon Queen named Hiyppolyta. She taught Marie how to speak in her tongue and fight like her sisters.

The black cat brought a fallen king named Arthur. She taught her court etiquette and how to belong at a table of men who believed you to be nothing or believed that you had simply gotten luck on your side.

Each of the different colored creatures, the kwamis, brought someone to teach her, the kwamis' former chosen.

One of the times after training with kaalki's former chosen, Marie Anne had ended up in a garden.

Marie sat in the Garden admiring the plants until the League guards took Marie back to her 'bedroom', receiving punishment in the form of only getting a quarter of her food rations for the next month.

On the bright side, Marie had received a visit from her father.

He had asked how she got out of her 'room', but he received no answers.

The kwamis had told her not to speak to anyone in the League.

After the first incident, Marie became a lot more careful about leaving her 'room'. Getting the random teleportation under control and only ever leaving her 'room' once a week to gather information about what's been going on in the place outside her 'room'.

One of the times she snuck out Marie Anne saw her sister for the first time.

She had been six at the time, her older sister being eight, and seemed to be about to go on a mission, her first mission if the talk of the League was to be believed.

Marie wondered when her first mission would be.

Mare wondered when she would get to prove herself to her father's approval and be allowed outside of her 'room'.

It didn’t happen the way she thought it would or the way she wanted it to.

She had heard bits and pieces of what happened to Cassandra Cain, her older sister.

She had heard stories about how Cassandra had abandoned the League, becoming a traitor. 

Marie hated it.

The more she heard the whispers of the League members the more she disliked the League, and the more she was angry on Cassandra’s behalf.

Her father had claimed her older sister to be a disgrace to their bloodline, and she hated him for it.

Marie Anne had died multiple times from her father’s orders and from the many trials he had her face, but Marie had never hated him for it.

However, calling Cassandra Cain, her older sister, a disgrace? That was a line he shouldn’t have crossed.

From that point on the trials got harder, a consequence of the difficulty was the death rate increasing.

Not for Marie Anne Cain.

No.

The deaths were the assassins who aimed to kill her.

She had felt horrible about her first kill but the kwamis had been quick to reassure her that it was a necessity of life. Queen Hippolyta and King Arther agreed that sometimes you must take a life so that you can survive.

When she was seven, a year after Cassandra’s disappearance, a group of twenty assassins attacked her without warning.

She had, of course, come out alive, with only a single cut on her right cheek. The cut following the same pather as her cheekbone.

She had noticed that there had been two additional people in the room, both of the people simply watching as if this was their own personal entertainment, so she had paid them no mind.

That was until she recognized them.

The additional people?

Her father, and Ra’s Al-Ghul.

Once the fight was over, Marie Anne fell to one knee, with her head hung low, offering her weapon, the weapon she had taken off one of the assassins to Ra’s following the etiquette she had seen other League members perform.

Ra’s let out a pleased hum.

“She will do.” Ra’s states before leaving the room.

Marie’s father seemed pleased with himself as he ordered her to stand and follow, leading her to a new room.

Inside the room was Talia Al-Ghul holding an infant.

“The Demon Head has granted you the honor of protecting and guarding his heir with your life.” Marie’s father informed her.

She gave a firm nod before bowing to the Demon head’s daughter and the Demon head’s heir.

[jinx-jade]

A Demoness’s Angel Chapter 1

Talia awoke from her unconscious state. She slowly opened her eyes, only to see a woman cleaning, stitching, and wrapping her injuries.

The last thing the assassin could remember was the league members rebelling against her. They seemed to believe her being a woman makes her too frail to lead them.

With Ra’s being dead and Damian’s refusal to come back and lead them, Talia’s death was inevitable.

Yet here she lay, on a soft bed, having her supposedly fatal injuries taken care of and healed.

The woman taking care of Talia has bright blue eyes that seem to almost glow a shade of purple. Her hair appeared black but would shine shades of blue. She seemed to be human, but there was something ethereal about her.

“These are some rather nasty injuries you have. Mind telling me where you got them and who gave them to you?” The woman asked, her voice was soothing to the assassin’s ears in an almost familiar way.

She had an accent that Talia couldn’t place and didn’t even look up from the bandaging to know she was awake.

Talia didn’t answer or even talk to the woman, despite something in her saying she could, that she was safe here.

Where is here?

There are in some kind of plant room library mix, books lining the walls, and plants that seem to be more than decoration scattered around the room.

“Not in the mood to talk?” The woman questions. Having finished treating her wounds the woman used her now free hands to lift Talia’s head by her chin, forcing her to make eye contact.

As they held eye contact Talia recognized the woman.

“Annette?” Talia questioned her voice shaking the slightest bit, unnoticeable to most but not to her.

“I will ask you once more. Who did this?” Annette asked, her voice sharper and far more deadly than Talia remembered.

Instead of answering Talia removed the hand that had been keeping her in place and pulled Annette into a hug. Talia flinching slightly from the movement upsetting her newly wrapped wounds but ignored the pain in favor of greeting her old friend.

“You left the league to find your mate decades ago. I didn’t think I would ever get to see you while you were still breathing.” Talia spoke into Annette’s neck.

Annette simply combed her hands through her old friend’s hair in a soothing motion. She then removed herself from the hug, taking the space in the bed next to Talia. Annette pulled the assassin into her arms in a more comfortable position that wouldn’t upset her injuries or cause pain.

“I did end up meeting him,” Annette said after a few moments of silence.

Talia didn’t speak or ask any questions, but Annette knew that just meant she was curious and listening.

“We became friends and at some point we became lovers.” Annette continued telling Talia about the person on the end of her string, but something about the thought of Annette having a lover twisted her stomach the wrong way.

“Somehow, my soulmate and I became heroes in charge of a city’s protection, sometimes it was the whole country, sometimes it was the whole world.” Annette laughed at how strange it was to go from being an assassin to being a hero.

“But we both know that good things never last.” Annette states with a humorless chuckle.

Talia looked up into the bluenette’s eyes from her head’s spot on Annette’s shoulder.

“Heros always do what’s best for the majority. They believe that fate chooses them to play some kind of god, picking who will live and who will die. So when the fate of the world was on the line and all he had to do was sacrifice one person to save the rest, he did. He sacrificed me, his soulmate without a second thought, not even bothering to look for another way.” Annette says with an almost bored tone of voice, leaning her head against Talia’s.

“You’re lucky to not have a bonded, Malak.” Annette lets the old nickname roll off her tongue without a second thought. “It means that you don’t have to be betrayed by the one person who’s supposed to value you above everyone else.”

Talia stayed quiet, contemplating if maybe she was lucky to not have a mate. It was common to learn in history that one soulmate kills the other, or they die from a decision the other had to make. Most stories had the same part in them, similar to Annette and her mate, the hero sacrifices them for the greater good of the world. The stories always say how sad the hero is about losing their mate, but somehow the stories still end with a ‘And they lived happily ever after’.

Maybe it was a good thing to not have a mate.

Wait.

“If you were sacrificed then how are you…”

“Alive?” Annette cuts off Talia’s question.

The assassin gave the bluenette a glare for cutting her off, but there was no heat behind it so the bluenette just laughed.

“I’m not the most… human… person anymore. The funny thing is fate or more accurately, balance decided that it will be my job to decide whose time it is to move on to their next life, and who still needs more time. I have essentially become a grim reaper.” Annette informs her with a smirk.

“That doesn’t answer how you're alive… am I alive?” Talia questions with curiosity.

“ We are not dead. We are in fact very much alive, just… immortal? While I’m essentially a grim reaper you, Malak, have become my little helper. A guardian angel to be exact.” Annette claims before laying them down from their previously seated position.

Annette held her close without upsetting her wounds.

After the room had fallen into silence, Talia looked towards Annette only to find that she had already fallen asleep. The assassin let a smile onto her lips, she had missed the late-night talks they used to do in the league.

Talia ended up falling asleep not long after Annette had far too many questions she wanted to ask Annette on her mind.

[jinx-jade]

Angel with Blue Eyes

The poll is now closed.

The results are:

Daminette 32 votes

Biodad Bruce 19 votes

Adopted Marinette 11 vote

___________

Looks like this will be a Daminette fic!

[jinx-jade]

Mari Al Ghul Can someone write this?!?

Mari al ghul. Eldest child of Talia al ghul. Eldest bio-chlid of Bruce Wayne/ Batman. Older sister of Damian al ghul

DC universe has a hard time with the time line so these are the ages I believe are correct for this to happen.

Bruce is 25 when Talia is pregnant the first time. Ra’s wanted a male heir, that didn’t happen, so when Bruce is 31, Talia seduces him and is then pregnant with Damian.

This puts a six year difference in age.

When the league falls Mari gets “crushed” under falling ruble, “dying” at 16. Damian is 10 when he gets introduced to a 41 year old Bruce.

Dick Grayson is 23

Jason Todd is 19

Tim Drake is 17

Mari did not die under the ruble, she was rescued by her godmother, Sabine Cheng. Mari ends up living with her godmother for two years due to the fact that she is still a child legally.

During the time Mari lived with the Dupain-Cheng’s, she was called Marinette.

Marinette is given the ladybug miraculous, and NOT skin tight spandex with poke-a-dots!!! Marinette goes by Malak Aldam, blood angel (in Arabic).

The retrieval of the butterfly and peacock miraculous ended up taking the two years she had to live with the Dupain-Cheng’s. It would have taken less time if she was told everything BEFORE it became a problem. 

After a year and a half of Hawkmoth, Marinette became the Grand Guardian. Once this happened, “Malak Aldam” is able to take full control of the situation. Malak Aldam removes the media block about Hawkmoth, letting the world know what’s been happening in Paris. She then sends all tourists home and closes the border. The Justice League was given a keep out order, if they did enter Paris, they will be removed by force and jailed.

This ended up taking the other half of the year (about six months) to take him down. Once Hawkmoth is taken down the Justice league immediately asked for a meeting with the Ladybug welder.

Malak Aldam arrives at the JL meeting by magic portal (thank you Kaalki). They do introductions, but when Malak Aldam introduced herself Robin translated this for everyone else (Blood angel).

Malak Aldam gave them a debriefing of the situation and how it was resolved. At the end of the meeting Red hood, Robin, and Batman recognize the LoA fighting style and asks Malak Aldam who trained her. 

Malak Aldam raised an eyebrow. Telling them that her mother and grandfather trained her, before she started living with her godmother two years ago. (Robin realize his sister didn’t die two years ago.)

Red hood and Batman not knowing about Robins realization, ask who her mother and grandfather are.

Malak Aldam gives them a knowing smile while saying, Ra’s and Talia Al ghul. At his sister’s confirmation, Robin tackles her into a hug.

Everyone’s very confused.

Malak Aldam just laughs.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Can someone write this?

I just do outlines, cause I can’t write!?!?!?

This is now being written by myself and @icerosecrystal

[jinx-jade]

Fic-Idea

Can someone write a fic were Marinette grew up in the League of Assassins as Damian’s twin or older sister or something?

Maybe through in some childhood best friend Nino (he’s an assassin too or maybe more like Marinette’s bodyguard?).

The idea of Nino being Marinette’s assassin bodyguard popped into my head and I would love for someone to write it, or send me in the direction of fics like this.

Jinx-Jade