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sparkle9510 · 5 years ago

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Baby Robins and Tiny Ladybugs Ch. 1

Okay, it’s been years since I actually wrote fanfics so let’s see how things goes from here. I’ve been reading a lot of Daminette and I think it’s really cute. It’s one of my favorite crack ships. (Yes, I get that some characters are ooc but you know what, this is just for fun, so let’s just enjoy it guys xd)

I give credit to @ozmav and everyone else who wrote daminette fics before this cause I probably read it and got very inspired. Y’all are amazing.

With that said, let’s begin~

(Let’s hope the writing makes sense and isn’t too rushed cause I wrote this at 3 in the morning)

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Masterlist

Damian sighed. It’s been a few months since he had become Robin, a few months since his father had died and Grayson had taken on the role of Batman. However, that also meant guardianship over Damian.

It was not... a bad thing, so to speak. Under Grayson’s tutelage, Damian is learning a few new skills. However, his upbeat attitude and lack of firm resolve to end people will probably be the end of him. After all, Grandfather and Mother had taught him that lethal actions are faster and more efficient to end crime. If only Father and the fake heirs he had taken in could understand.

However, his heroic alter ego was not the reason for his annoyance. Currently, they were on a business trip in Paris. Grayson thought it would be beneficial for him to experience what it would be like, which Damian believe it would be. He was to inherit it (after he gets Drake’s name off from being heir to the company) once he was older. If only that was the case… No, he ended up being pushed aside, deemed “too young” by the business partner they were meeting. Now, he was stuck wandering around in the hotel.

Might as well explore, Damian tsked. Grayson wouldn’t mind. He knew Damian knew how to take care of himself. Turning around, he walked off, down the hallway. He passed by a huge room, seeing a short Asian woman and a huge French man set up baked goods. With no doubt this was the destination of the gala that will be held tonight. Before he could continue his thoughts, he soon felt a huge force rush into him and knock him onto the floor.

“S-sorry!” the girl in front of stammered. “Way to go Marinette, your clumsiness strikes again.”

“I would say,” Damian huffed. “Do refrain from knocking people over.”

“Here, lemme help you up,” the girl reached out with her hand. “I’m Marinette Dupain Cheng.”

“I don’t need help from elephants who cannot control themselves from running over others,” Damian pushed the hand away before picking himself up. “Your assistance is not needed.”

“You don’t have to be rude about it,” Marinette frowned. “It was an accident and no one got hurt. You should apologize for being mean.”

“I have no incentive to apolo-” Damian started before his ears was soon pinched and twisted. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Apologize,” Marinette demanded, earning a glare from Damian. “Maman says if you say something rude, you should apologize. So, until you apologize, I’m not letting go.”

Damian muttered a curse, trying to pull himself away, but damn this girl had a good grip on his ear and even tightened it.

“What was that?” she raised her eyebrow.

“...I apologize,” Damian muttered reluctantly after a few moments of failed escapes.

A minute or two passed before Marinette decided to let go, seemingly satisfied with his apology. Damain tsked before rubbing his ears, relieving it from pain.

“Anyways, you’re not from around here aren’t you?” Marinette asked, her expression no longer of annoyance, but of curiosity.

“I do not see the need to inform you of my status,” Damian huffed. “...but yes. My brother is currently negotiating a contract with a potential business partner and I was unfortunately seen as dead weight.”

“Well then,” Marinette grinned, swaying in place, “why not hang with me?”

“For what reason do I need to hang out with some hooligan I’ve never met,” Damian narrowed his eyes, “and someone that is not worth my time?”

“Well, it probably would be nice to have someone familiar with the city,” Marinette huffed in returned, crossing her arms. “and I so happen to be the perfect candidate, so not a waste of your time.”

Damian glared at the girl. She refused to budge from her offer to show him around. Sighing, he crossed his own arms and agreed.

“Perfect!” Marinette grinned, grabbing his arm. “Let’s go!”

-----

Damian had to admit. The girl was not as useless as he had thought. She did know her surroundings and gave him adequate info about each place. She showed him her school, the hotels, the Louve, the stores, the parks, anything that she knew, she ranted about in details.

And running around with her was surprisingly tolerable. Putting her first actions aside, she was not as rude or aggressive as he had thought. And she had even gotten him to open up a bit about himself as well.

“What’s your name?” She had asked him while giving him the tour. “Sorry, after all this, I forgot to ask.”

“Damian,” he replied. “Damian Wayne.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Marinette smiled. “Bad first impressions aside. I hope you find Paris.”

Damian was a bit stunned. He wasn’t exactly polite either, but she still had put in some effort to ignore that and continue talking to him. She didn’t even have a big reaction after hearing his last name. Did she know about how influential his name is? Did she not care? She didn’t pry for a lot of information as well and left many things alone. Perhaps she was not that type of girl.

“What kind of places do you like to go to?” Damian’s mouth moved before he even realized what he was going to say.

Marinette looked a bit surprised, but took it in stride.

“I love going to the park or the museum to get inspiration,” Marinette grinned. “I love clothes, and I can’t draw well yet, but I want to be a fashion designer. There’s also a fabric shop I like going to cause of that.”

“Where’s the fabric shop?”

“Down the street over there! Would you like to come? It’ll be nice to have someone to go with.”

“Don’t you have friends who would accompany you?”

Marinette frowned and looked away.

“...I don’t exactly have friends,” she spoke quietly. “Chloe usually keeps everyone away from me that I can’t make friends.”

“Oh,” Damian simply said.

He inwardly cursed at himself. She says she’s being bullied, but all he can do is say ‘Oh’? He should probably do something. What did Grayson always do?

“You’re mistaken,” he fumbled a bit. “Since you’ve been gracious enough to spend some of your time to show me around the city, I guess you could say we’re more than acquaintances. You’re more tolerable than most I have met in my life.”

Damian felt his cheeks get a bit red before looking away. However, it didn’t take long for his attention to turn back when he felt her grab his hand.

“Thanks Damian,” Marinette smiled brightly.

He couldn’t help but notice her eyes were very vibrant and filled with life.

“It’s nothing to be grateful about, Marinette,” he replied, choosing to use her first name. “Now let’s head over to the shop. I only have a limited time before I must return.”

-----

“So, how do you like these crepes?” Marinette asked.

The two were at a small cafe, eating a bit of lunch. In an hour or so, they would have to return to the hotel they left. Damian, to return back to Grayson and Marinette, back to her parents.

“It’s adequate,” Damian shrugged.

“Are you sure it’s just okay, Damian?” Marinette smiled. “They’re one of my favorite!”

Staring at the food for a sec, he pushed his plate onto Marinette.

“You can have the rest,” Damian said nonchalantly. “I believe you would enjoy it more than I would.”

“If you’re sure,” Marinette pouted. “but you have to have my Chocolate Mousse.”

With that, they exchanged their food and ate them. Though at some point, they did steal the other’s food to take a bite once again.

-----

“That was good,” Marinette hummed. “Though I guess it’s time to head bac-”

Before she can say any more, she was interrupted by a shout. They both turned to the side to see someone running towards them. The stranger had dark baggy clothes and a hat covering his face. In his hand was a purse, the purse of the woman he just robbed.

“Stay back,” Damian started, but before he could continue any more or get into action, Marinette was already on the move.

She raced to the man and easily slipped under to trip him before wrapping her body around to restrain him. Her flexible and graceful act had Damian stumped and still, however the criminal’s grunt of surprised pain gave Damian a quick wake up call to get into action as well. As the man got up, Marinette slammed him down once again before grabbing his right arm and pulling it back. She then began leaning down to try to hold him there, but she was just 10 as well, too young and lightweight to keep him there. There, Damian went and kicked the guy in the head, knocking him unconscious.

“Angel, are you all right?” Damian asked, checking to see if there was any wounds.

“I’m okay..?” Marinette was a bit shocked. “Angel?”

“Ah,” Damian’s face grew red once again. “I apologize. Your behavior today, how kind you were after I was rude to you and how righteous and graceful you are reminded me of an angel. I won’t call you that if it bothers you.”

“N-no no!” Marinette stuttered. “It’s fine! I don’t mind! I’ll just find a nickname you’ll be okay with too.”

“That sounds fair,” Damian nodded before turning towards the woman rushing after them. “Mademoiselle, I believe this belongs to you.”

“Thank you,” the woman sighed in relief. “I wouldn’t know what I would do without this. Thank you both!”

-----

“I guess this is it,” Marinette smiled sadly. “Our only day we could ever speak or see each other?”

“Maybe not,” Damian smirked.

He pulled a napkin he took earlier and a pen he kept on him. Writing down his contact info, he gave it to Marinette.

“You can talk to me on this,” he told her. “Feel free to talk to me anytime about anything. Though if the talks end up being irrelevant or nonsense, I’d have half a mind to end it all.”

“Thanks for everything, Damian,” Marinette hugged him before walking off. “I’ll be sure to contact you soon!”

Damian nodded and watch as she disappeared from view. As the only person he had as company, she ended up not being as bad as he would believe her to be. And she had somehow managed to worm her way into his soft spot, certainly faster than how Grayson and Pennyworth were, albeit reluctantly so. Perhaps what Grayson was teaching him had a bit of meaning. There were more to life than just the legacy and what the League of Assassins had taught him.

“Little D!” Grayson grinned. “How was exploring Paris?”

“It’s none of your concern, Grayson,” Damian replied curtly. “Though it wasn’t intolerable.”

Masterlist

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Well I hope you guys liked it xd. I have some more ideas so maybe I’ll write more, but exams are coming and I’m gonna be busy for a bit. Though if I’m hit with procrastination, I’ll see if I can come back to this.

Have a good day y’all!! <3

#daminette #marinette dupain cheng #ml #miraculous ladybug #maribat #maridami #alya salt #lila salt #no adrien salt though guys #fanfic #Baby Robins and Tiny Ladybugs #childhood friends au #I need to find a better title #not beta'd #hopefully it's good #my fanfic #edit:#not that salty after all #class sees sense after a while

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ask-the-monochrome-boys · 8 years ago

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An anon asked for refs of me and the laptop was bein’ a prick, so here they are for those of you who wanted to draw me (eeeeee I’m so excited!) I sometimes switch the style of the facial expression, but now you have refs for two of them at least!

Note: For color purposes, I have dark hair (think dark brown/black) and hazel-green eyes, and generally wear deep blue or black clothing. Oh, and I’m a sun-tanned latina bab :’’

-Mod Rose

#ooc post #mod rosie #eeee babs #draw me like one of your french girls

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sammysdewysensitiveeyes · 4 years ago

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"Come now, be a man. It's not a real party if you don't do something that scares you or scars you."

Pyro looked at Shaw, then back into the room. Blinking did not clear the image. There was a bear stretched out in front of an ornate fireplace, lying on it’s side in a pose that Pyro had learned from the Internet was called “Draw me like one of your French girls.” The bear wore a comically small bow tie. Or perhaps it was a normal-sized bow tie on a massive neck.

Pyro looked back at Shaw.

“What’s wrong? You said you liked them big and muscular.”

Pyro continued looking at Shaw.

“It’s not a real bear, of course. It’s a shape-shifter. And he identifies as male, if that’s your issue.”

Pyro looked back at the bear. It waved a massive paw at him, and winked.

“Is this a prank?”

“I don’t waste my time with pranks, Allerdyce. I’m a busy man. Now, do you want to fuck this bear or not? Where’s your sense of adventure? I thought you loved excitement?”

“Is that a video camera over there?” Pyro pointed at the far corner.

“Those are just closed-circuit security cameras, just in case something gets out of hand.”

“Are you, in fact, planning on filming me having sex with a bear then uploading it online to humiliate me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. That kind of petty nonsense is something Shinobi would do. There’s no profit in that for me. No, if I used the video for anything, I’d sell it to fetishists online.”

“Wait, I didn’t sign up for that, Shaw!” A surprisingly human voice with a surprisingly Russian accent came out of the bear’s mouth.

“i didn’t say I was going to!” Sebastian protested. “I have some respect for you, even if I have none for Allerdyce, here. I was merely trying to arrange a tryst that you both might find pleasurable. Then perhaps Allerdyce would drop some of his unreasonable hostility towards me.”

“No, this isn’t going to work. The mood, it is ruined.” said the bear, lumbering through the door towards them on all fours. “And he clearly doesn’t want to.”

“Um....no offense,” Pyro said. He reached out to pat the bear on the head, then snatched his hand back as he realized the gesture might seem rather condescending.

“None taken. You want go find some champagne instead? And in the main room, they have those smoked salmon hors d'oeuvres.”

“Are you going to stay in that form?”

“I like this form.”

“..........Yeah sure, why not?”

“Never mind then, you ungrateful cowards,” Sebastian muttered.

(OOC: The bear was going to be a random shape-shifter, but when I googled “Marvel shape-shifting bear” I found there actually is a mutant with that specific power called Ursa Major, who is part of the Winter Guard along with Darkstar. So that’s who it is. NOT Snowbird, I wouldn’t do that to her.)

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maxdark158 · 5 years ago

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PART TWO OF BEING INSPIRED AND WRITING ANYWAY

PLEASE check out the amazing @ozmav my friend!! AMAZING!!

Characters are probably OOC because MLB is a kids show and you guys liked stressed and cursing Damian so I kept that going even though it’s probably OOC

Angel in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Ao3

Demon in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Ao3

Fanart for AiG: Riddler ~ Joker thank you @thegreysman

Please tag me in any fanart you draw for this guys ^^

oooOOOooo

Damian tried to ignore his phone after checking it for the thirteenth time. But who was counting?

He was, actually. Because it seems the stupid worry feeling will never fucking go away! It took root, and it’s only growing. Damian wondered if drinking weedkiller works on emotions. The bitches.

He wasn’t even that worried initially! Sure, he wanted his An- Marinette to text him when she got to the hotel, but that was just… a friend thing. It’s what friends ask! And they were friends.

Damian wasn’t worried on the car ride to the manor, he had only checked his phone once then. When his father questioned him about The Riddler incident, he was thoroughly distracted and didn’t check at all. After he left the room he checked twice in one minute just to make sure he didn’t miss anything in the first check.

He checked sparsely while training briefly, adding up to eight… okay, maybe not so sparsely. But at this point the awful god damn plant had grown a mouth and it was gnawing on his sanity, bugging him every moment of peace he had.

Damian was getting really fucking sick of this whole worry business. It was awful! Why did Grayson partake in it for so many years? Why did anyone?

He was beginning to understand his classmates’ sense of humor now. But “I want to ka-shoot myself,” was not as funny as they thought it was.

Damian was so busy thinking about worrying and getting more worried – the fucking circle of life – that when he checked his phone for the fourteenth time, he realized he missed a message from Marinette.

Angel: I’m at the hotel now.

Thank fuck. Damian banished all the worry from his mind – leave, motherfucker – and typed out a response.

Damian: That’s good

Damian: Did you get in trouble?

Wait fuck the worry wasn’t gone. He wanted to smack the phone against his head. Or break his thumbs for typing that without his permission.

Angel: Professor Mendeleiev must’ve been tired or something.

Angel: She didn’t leacture

Damian bit his lip. Marinette needed to work on her English.

Angel: Lecture?

Damian: *lecture

Angel: Quiet, English is hard

He could fucking understand that! It may have been long ago but Damian had to learn once too, ya know.

Damian: Understandable.

Damian: In my original question I meant any of your classmates btw

Holy fucking shit his thumbs would be cut off by sunlight he swears to all the justice league members-

Angel: btw?

Angel: Oh by the way

Damian: yeah

Angel: I’m good at text slang in French, okay

Damian: I don’t doubt you

He really didn’t. Marinette seemed intelligent if The Riddler incident had anything to say about it.

Angel: Anyway Alya tried to bother me but I’m good now

He frowned. Alya? She hadn't told him about her.

Angel: Professor Mendeleiev told her off for bothering me after my ‘traumatic’ encounter with a Gotham villain

Damian: Speaking of, are you SURE you’re alright Angel

Damian sighed, letting his head drop. Okay, fucking fine he was still fucking worried and he hated it. His thumbs weren’t to blame, his fucking emotions were.

He pulled up Google to look up liquid weedkiller when his Ang- Marinette texted back.

Angel: I’m fine

Angel: I’ve survived akuma for three years, I’m not about to let some riddle fanatic with terrible clothing choices ruin my day

Damian: His clothes are that bad?

Good, subject change. Maybe he can stop fucking worrying.

Angel: Too much green, for one

Angel: Green shouldn’t be used in large portions when it’s that bright of a shade

Angel: Also the cloth itself was cheap, but the kind of cheap meant to look expensive if you don’t know cloth good

Damian frowned. That was so fucking obvious. Surely she didn’t actually make that mistake…

Damian: *well

Angel: Whatever

Angel: Also his hat didn’t match the type of suit he was wearing

Angel: If he wants to go old fashioned he should at least match the time period

Angel: Longer coat, more layers

Angel: He is an atrocity

Her comments were appreciable though. He could see where she came from.

Damian: he is

Angel: If I had time to cry then my tears would had been blood

Damian: *have

Damian grinned. If Marinette didn’t want her fucking grammar fixed she should learn how to spell in English.

A different motherfucking bitch of an emotion appeared at that thought. He didn’t like that one either. It made him feel bad for being mean.

Angel: istg

Damian: It appears you’re learning

Angel: Yepp

Damian: Also the Gotham news posted an article online about you

Might as well bite the bullet, right?

Damian: “Unnamed Teenager From France Holds off The Riddler Until Batman Arrives!”

Angel: Wait what?

Angel: But we both held him off?

Damian: I was kind of useless, you did most of the work

God damn it! Damian thought he told that emotion to get the fuck out! He was fucking Robin he isn’t useless, he just happened to not be needed at that exact moment.

Damian: I left shortly after you solved his riddle because the Robins had arrived

He grumbled to himself. He hated emotions. It wasn’t like he hadn’t ever felt them before, but they were easier to ignore. This girl made them hard to ignore, and Damian wasn’t sure why.

He did know that he fucking hated it.

After a moment, he realized h- Marinette hadn’t replied for a few minutes.

Damian: You there?

Angel: Yeah. I was just reading the article

Good. He didn’t want anything to happen- motherfucking dammit.

Angel: The Riddler was bad at hand to hand combat. It was easy to take him down with the practice I have from Paris

Damian: I bet.

He saw the time on his phone. Marinette had more field trip stuff tomorrow morning, right? Shouldn’t she get to bed?

Damian: It’s getting late, Angel. We should go to bed.

Damian: Goodnight

Angel: Goodnight

Angel: Also I’ll find a chat name for you soon, promise

Damian’s smile felt weird on his face but unlike the god damn worry and fucking other emotions, he didn’t hate the feeling of it.

After replying, he prepared to get dressed for his patrol as Robin.

oooOOOooo

“Sooo, Robin,” Drake dropped down next to him. “Want to share why you were at that ice cream parlor with that pigtailed French girl?”

“Fuck off,” is Damian’s extremely eloquent response. He can say it in many different languages.

“Wait, Demon Spawn has a girlfriend?” fucking Todd over the fucking comms in his fucking awful Red Hood suit. At least his current helmet didn’t have the fucking lips.

“No, I don’t-“

“I’m trying to figure that out, Red Hood, so would you kindly butt out of the conversation.”

“Of course Red Robin, good luck getting anything out of him though.”

“I don’t have a fucking girlfriend you numbskulls,” Damian hissed through the comms.

“Wait what’s this about a girlfriend, Robin?” Grayson’s overexcited cheerleader voice screamed. Damian wanted to rip out his eardrums.

“Red Robin, I thought I instructed you to leave him alone about this,” finally, his father, for once being a fucking voice of reason, speaks on the comms.

“Bruce you said I should wait until he admits to having a girlfriend,” Drake sounded too smug, Damian wanted to cut it off his masked face. “We know that isn’t going to happen.”

“I hate this fucking family,” Damian hissed.

oooOOOooo

Marinette hadn’t missed her field trip this time. Or had she? Maybe she slept in really fucking late. Damian didn’t know. He didn’t know what her sleeping schedule was like.

She could have also been captured or killed. Those were not fun thoughts. The fucking worry was back, like a virus. Damian anxiously awaited his weedkiller.

She likely wasn’t kidnapped or dead. His father would have known by now and would have told him. He hopes. If his father didn’t tell him he’s a fucking asshole.

“Master Damian.”

“Yes?” he turned around to face Alfred, grateful to be away from the god damn brain-eating plant in his head.

“I simply wanted to prevent you from walking into that wall,” Alfred gestured behind Damian.

He glanced and – yep. Fucking hell. He almost walked into a wall because of the god damn weed of an emotion forcibly taking his mind hostage.

He was having a grand ol’ time.

“Perhaps you would like to go for a drive?” Alfred asked, a single brow raised.

Damian hesitated. “Alright. Where do you want to go?”

“We can figure it out in the car, Master Damian.” Alfred went to grab the keys and his shoes. Damian checked on when his weedkiller would arrive.

A week.

Fucking fuck fuck.

He should have paid for one-hour shipping.

“Are you ready to go, Master Damian?”

“Yes.”

Alfred didn’t try to talk to him during the drive, for which Damian was grateful though. He hated this emotion thing, and people forcing him to talk made it so much worse.

His phone buzzed. Damian pulled it out and checked it.

Angel: Kill me now

His eyes widened. What happened? Is she okay? Did someone- god fucking motherfucking dammit bitch.

Damian: What’s wrong?

Stupid god damn worry.

Angel: We have to all get lunch as a class before I’m free

Angel: I’m in the group with Liar Rossi

Damian raised a brow. Marinette hadn’t told him much about this girl in her class, but he knew she lied and nobody but Marinette knew she lied.

He didn’t like her.

Angel: Death would be sweatier

Damian: *sweeter

Angel: Rude

Damian: Anyway

Damian: You can’t die yet

Damian: We still technically didn’t get ice cream

Absolutely wonderful excuse you fucking asswhipe. Damian should be a politician with that reasoning.

He looked around, recognizing the streets. They were a bit weird from the actual street instead of the rooftops, but-

Damian: Also you’re at the Gotham City Heroes and Villains Museum right?

Angel: Yes I am

Damian fought to keep the smi- self-satisfied smirk off his face. Bingo.

Damian: I’m nearby

Damian: I can pick you up for lunch

Angel: OMG really? Please do I’d really really like that

Damian: omw

“Alfred,” Damian leaned up toward the front seat. “Head to the Gotham City Heroes and Villains Museum? I’d like to pick someone up.”

“Of course Master Damian,” Alfred’s tone didn’t betray anything about his thoughts, but for some reason that was calming to him.

The car drive to the museum was fairly short, if Damian was honest. They were only a few minutes away to begin with anyway.

When they arrived, Damian saw a redhaired girl with glasses yelling at his An- Marinette. At Marinette. He couldn’t hear what Marinette had said, but it must have been good. The red-haired girl’s jaw fucking dropped. The people behind her looked fucking dead.

Priceless.

Marinette saw him and he waved. Alfred unlocked the door, and Marinette got in. She didn’t look back at her classmates' faces as Alfred drove away.

Shit. Something must have happened. He wasn’t good with emotions though, after all he ordered weedkiller to see if he could get rid of fucking worry.

So, Damian Wayne did what any Wayne would do when faced with emotions.

Ignore them.

“Where would you like to eat, Angel?” Damian asked.

Shit, fuck, too insensitive.

Marinette shrugged. “I’m not sure, I don’t know what’s here.”

She sounded so goddamn miserable-

Damian frowned. “Angel, you okay?”

Fucking shit, stupid mouth. Learn the fucking rules. He should be banned from fucking talking.

“I’m okay,” she mumbled. “I’ve got a lot on my mind right now.”

Damian wanted to press the issue but decided against it. If he was happy when Alfred didn’t make him talk feelings, maybe Marinette would be too.

He was a friend first – wait first before what, exactly?

“Alfred, can you take us to the nearest,” he glanced at Marinette. “four-star restaurant?”

“As you wish Master Damian.”

He hoped Marinette didn’t feel out of place, but he wanted to lift her spirits. She deserved to smile – that was a weird fucking sentence what the fuck?

Damian is pretty sure he’s losing his marbles.

“I know,” Marinette suddenly blurted out. “I know you’re Damian Wayne.”

Fucking fuck fuck.

Shit. She’s probably pissed he didn’t tell her-

“I just want you to know that doesn’t change anything. You’re still my friend, and I don’t care who your dad is and who you are.”

Damian gaped at her for a moment before shaking his head. He should have fucking told her, he’s an ass. “I’m sorry you had to find out on your own. I should have told you-”

Marinette interrupted, “you didn’t have to. You don’t owe me that.”

He was confused. What?

She didn’t want to know who he was right off the bat? She was okay with that secret?

“As a stranger or even a friend, you don’t owe me any details about who you are. Ever,” Marinette told him. “You’re allowed to keep secrets and not tell me things you aren’t comfortable sharing. It isn’t fair of me to demand you tell me everything.”

Holy fucking shit.

This… this woman…

“Thank you,” he said earnestly. “I… nobody’s ever said secrets are okay…”

Marinette shrugged. “I can’t help if I feel left out, but forcing you to tell me everything isn’t how friendship is supposed to work. If you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay.”

Damian’s smile was small, and it felt a bit out of place on his face. He couldn’t find it within himself to care.

“Perhaps instead of a restaurant, I can take you both to the mansion for your lunch?” Alfred, the god damn traitor, suggested.

He wanted to say ‘have you lost your god damn marbles, Alfred?’ but he didn’t.

Instead, he said, “You sure Alfred?” like a fucking loser.

Marinette glanced at him. “You don’t have to if you aren’t comforta-”

“No, it’s not that,” he assured. Why would she think he was uncomfortable? His brothers were menaces, but he was used to them! Marinette, however... “My brothers can be… rambunctious.”

Drake and Todd were going to have a fucking field day, especially after what they pulled last night over the comms. He was lucky Grayson was working today. But those two motherfuckers…

Marinette smiled. “I can handle them if that’s the only reason you’re nervous.”

Damian thought for a moment.

Fucking fuck fuck.

He hoped she could. Because if they caused her any unnecessary harm or discomfort he would murder their asses.

With pleasure too.

But one look told Damian that he wouldn’t need to. This girl was going to be the death of him. He hoped the weedkiller was miraculously early.

He sighed. “Alfred, please talk us to the mansion.”

“My pleasure, Master Damian.”

Fucking fuck fuck.

#daminette #Marinette #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #marinette x damian #damian wayne #damian wayne au #marinette dupain cheng #maridami #damimari #maribat #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #batman #batman fic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction

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pandemonshq · 5 years ago

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Welcome, Destinee, please grab your stake on your way to your tumblr to play Daphne Greengrass here at Pandemons. We were thrilled to see how you created a brilliant family history and dynamic for Daphne—the divorce, her family connections, and how her history feeds into her choices. And her job as a translator? Inevitably going to get her (and you) broiled in more trouble than expected here.

Your request for michaela conlin. // jessica henwick FCs have been accepted.

OOC

Name: destinee.

Preferred Pronouns: she/her, they/them

Age: twenty-four.

Timezone: est.

Activity Level: if you to ask me for one of those out of ten scores i’d probably give myself about a six. i really enjoy roleplaying but i have some chronic problems that occasionally put me out of commission. i’m typically online in the late afternoon and at night.

IN CHARACTER INFORMATION

Character’s Name: daphne greengrass.

Bloodstatus: pureblood.

Birthday: october 4th, 1979.

Gender and Sexuality: cis female, bi-romantic, demisexual.

Former Hogwarts House: slytherin.

Infection: no.

Faceclaim: michaela conlin. // jessica henwick.

SHORT HEADCANON TOPICS

Occupation:

translator.

daphne has always been a bright girl, though she was never the type to flaunt it. she was never the type to draw unnecessary attention to herself, preferring to slip by in the shadows - she was perfectly content to let others take the spotlight, and the blame.

still, she did love to know things. she was quite fond of history, and loved to know the stories behind mysterious artifacts and lost treasures. on sleepless nights, she has always been found curled up in the corner of a library, reading whatever happened to catch her eye.

it was her desire to read books and inscriptions that lead to the discovery of her talent for languages. she taught herself what she could for awhile, and then she turned to her parents, begging for lessons in any language that could be taught. her parents shrugged their shoulders, and let their daughter do as she pleased. unsatisfied with simply learning french and german and russian and latin, she threw herself into the study of ancient and beast languages, and found herself among one of the few with an affinity for such things.

daphne dreamed of putting her talent to good use - of traveling the world writing journals, or translating ancient inscriptions for cursebreakers. but then her parents announced that they’d found her a husband, and daphne put her dreams on the shelf to be the lovely, loyal housewife she was expected to be.

one of the first things she did after her divorce was finalized was dust off those dreams of hers. daphne has translated ancient texts and read the inscriptions of golden sarcophagi. she has translated for ministry officials as they delicately negotiated peace with magical beings, and been the helping hand to reunite frightened tourists with their lost children. she’s quite proud of her skill and of her work.

Marital Status/Ships:

daphne remembers clearly how it felt, to sit in the common room surrounded by happy, giggling girls and not understand. whenever her friends would gossip about boys, or gush over an attractive stranger, daphne would sit in silence. she learned fairly quickly that her friends found it odd that she didn’t seem to like boys, so she learned to smile and pretend to get it, but most of the time she just didn’t. when one of her friends had confided in her that she liked girls, daphne wondered if that was perhaps why she didn’t get it … but then, she found she didn’t really understand when her friends gossiped about girls, either.

pansy would talk about draco more often than anyone wanted to hear, and for long time, it went in one ear and out the other for daphne. but then she met him, and an offhand remark became the odd conversation became a friendship. and daphne finally started to get it. because she liked draco. more than she liked anyone - or, more accurately, differently than she liked anyone else. the trouble was that pansy liked draco, and pansy was the leader of their little clique. daphne had always been taught the importance of social circles, and so she never said a word.

daphne met a girl in the library in her fifth year; a ravenclaw with a thirst for knowledge that rivaled her own and a delightfully snarky attitude. they started dating in sixth year, and their relationship held strong through the turmoil and tragedy of the war and it’s aftermath. but then her parents reminded her that she wasn’t a child anymore, and it was time she started looking for an appropriate match. daphne crushed her own heart in her hands and ended the relationship, and she quietly fears that she’ll never recover.

daphne is still raw and aching when she finds out about astoria and draco. it brings a flash of old feelings to the surface, but once more, she stomps it down. she puts on a smile, and she supports her sister at every turn. it isn’t too long after that her parents nudge her in the direction of the wizard they’ve deemed her proper match - a frenchman with a handsome face and a flawless pedigree. daphne hopes something will spark between them, but it never really does. she marries him anyway, because it’s what her parents want.

the marriage is a disaster. they have nothing in common, except for regrets. they argue over what restaurants to visit, how daphne should do her hair, whether daphne should be allowed to work. he sleeps around, but truthfully, she couldn’t care less. the moment she finds out she’s pregnant, she’s more than happy to kick him out of her bed entirely. she’s only obligated to supply him one heir, after all.

their daughter is born, and daphne falls in love. cynthia instantly becomes the center of her whole world. her husband is not so impressed. he insists he wants a son, but daphne isn’t having any of it. the relationship devolves even further, and daphne sees less and less of her husband as the months roll by. cynthia is three years old when things hit a boiling point. her husband strikes her during an argument, and daphne is enraged. she draws her wand and forcibly hurls him out of the house, and sends his things flying after him. daphne will put up with a lot of things for the sake of her family’s reputation, but not this. he returns to france, and daphne at last feels free.

romance is the last thing on daphne’s mind these days. a single mother with a career doesn’t have much time to fuss about those things, especially when they’ve never been particularly fussed in the first place. now that her sister has fallen ill, she has even less time to think about it. she has to be there for her daughter, her sister, her nephew, and for draco. just because she isn’t thinking about it, though, doesn’t mean it might not surprise her. old flames and new could be hiding around any corner.

MULTIPARAGRAPH OR MULTI-POINT TOPICS

Family

Father | Nestor Greengrass. the greengrass family is one of the truest, purest bloodlines around, and sure, that’s something to be proud of - but more importantly, that’s something to take advantage of. nestor is as crafty as a salesman can be, and he knows how to market himself and the shop. he’s carefully crafted and maintained the ideal reputation; the perfect balance of shady and trustworthy. money is truly his main motivation for nearly everything he does. he’s always encouraged his children to be intelligent, sly, and greedy. he’s certainly a selfish man, but one that does care for his family. whether or not he cares about them more than he cares for himself, though, is rather hard to tell.

Mother | Meilin Greengrass. meilin has certain expectations. there are ways that people should and should not behave. there are obligations that people must fulfill, and duties they must complete. of course people are not perfect. little mistakes may be made from time to time. the young will stray from the path every now and again, but they simply need to be guided back into their place. she has always fully expected her daughters to fall perfectly in line - and the fact that things are so imperfect? that their perfect perfect reputation has been blemished? it infuriates her.

Sister | Astoria Malfoy. daphne’s relationship with her family is a bit … complicated, but she has always loved her little sister with all of her heart. from the time they were small, daphne has always tried to look after astoria, to be the best big sister she can be. she’s always wanted to be someone astoria could look up to, and it’s motivated her a lot in her life. when she found out her sister had fallen ill, she was devastated.

Daughter | Cynthia Greengrass. daphne never really thought much about being a mother. she supposes she’s always been a bit mother; she can recall the many times her sister would roll her eyes and say, “okay, mom” or the way pansy would sometimes groan and snap “you aren’t my mother.” she’s always known that she would have kids one day. it was one of her responsibilities, after all. continue the family line. but she still didn’t really think about it. even throughout her pregnancy, daphne didn’t really think of herself as a mother. she felt more like a bloated bus than anything else. but then she held her daughter in her arms for the first time, and it felt like the world shifted. her daughter is her sun and her sky and all of the stars. she would do anything to keep cynthia safe, and to make her happy. and if anyone were to threaten her sweet, wonderful little girl … she wouldn’t rest until they paid for it.

Childhood/Hogwarts

most people would say knockturn alley is no place for children, but to daphne, it’s simply home. she had spent her early years young and fearless, running down cobblestone streets, dodging the hags that often lurked in the crowds, admiring the dark artifacts her father sold, spying on the illicit clinic her mother ran. perhaps it warped her perspective a bit; perhaps she doesn’t always fear things that she should; but no one can deny that it’s blessed her with nerves of steel.

daphne is a little surprised to be sorted into slytherin. she had thought herself a bit more like her ravenclaw mother than her slytherin father, but she fits easily into the ranks. daphne attaches herself to pansy parkinson within the first few weeks of their first year. pansy is a bigot and a bully and a pureblood, and daphne knows immediately she wants to behind her and not in her way.

daphne makes friends and she gets good grades, but she’s never the center of attention, and that’s the way she likes it. it’s much easier to get away with breaking rules when people are paying more attention to the troublemakers; and people are much more forgiving when they have a worse example to compare you to.

hogwarts becomes a home away from home for her. she finds a sense of peace and simple joy there that she just doesn’t have at home. she loves her parents, she truly does, but that doesn’t mean they were truly good parents. her mother’s presence feels almost crushing sometimes; like her expectations have a physical weight and they’ve perched themselves right on daphne’s lungs and when she fails it feels like she can’t breathe. no one looks at her like they’re waiting for her to fail at hogwarts.

that peace is shattered by voldemort’s return. she watches the people around her change; sees the way the pressure warps and twists them, the way some of them just crack and chip away. suddenly it feels like everyone is watching everyone all the time; constantly on a knife’s edge. she knows what side she’s supposed to be on, but she can’t help but just want it all to end, no matter who wins.

daphne tries to be the sturdy one. she tries to be there for people, do whatever little thing she can for them. sit with them, talk with them, bring them tea, steal sweets from the kitchens. she knows how the rest of the school has started to feel about slytherins - even the ones who don’t deserve it. if no one else will be here for them, she’ll do it all herself.

Post Hogwarts

daphne is exhausted and the world around her is in shambles. she tries to be there for her family and for her friends - for the ones that are left, as they try to put the pieces back together. it doesn’t feel like enough. she doesn’t feel the same anymore. she can’t imagine how the others must feel. the ones who were truly in the middle of it.

she finds happiness in the brief moments she can spend alone with her girlfriend, just the two of them, peaceful and quiet. her mother tells her it’s about time she end her little fling, and daphne’s heart sinks to the floor. her mother reminds her that she must have known this relationship wouldn’t last long. her girlfriend was a half-blood, after all, and not fit for marriage. daphne does as she’s told. her girlfriend doesn’t understand, and daphne can’t blame her.

she sinks into a deep depression after the messy end of her relationship, and finds that she can’t stand to be alone with her thoughts - or with her mother. she starts making anonymous donations to charities and to projects to help rebuild. she throws herself back into learning languages and reading books. she avoids the world.

it’s astoria’s announcement of her engagement to draco that shakes daphne out of her daze. she has a few mixed emotions. it feels a little odd to see her sister engaged to her old crush; it feels a bit painful to see her sister engaged at all, after the end of her relationship. but more than anything … astoria didn’t tell her. all of their lives they had trusted each other with everything, and yet her baby sister hadn’t told her she was going to be engaged? for a moment, she’s angry. and then she realizes that it’s her fault. she’d been pushing her sister away without even realizing it.

daphne puts all of her energy into working through her depression after that. she’s determined to be there for her sister, come hell or high water. she reappears in the social scene, starts to go out with friends again, and ignores her mother a little less.

she’s introduced to her future husband not too long after her sister’s engagement, and they attend the wedding together. astoria doesn’t like him much, but daphne thinks he’s tolerable, and their mother seems very keen that they date. daphne regrets not taking her sister’s doubts more seriously, looking back on it.

daphne is a reluctant and miserable housewife for the course of their marriage. the birth of their daughter brightens her life; she loves being a mother. but she only hates her husband more.

the day her divorce was finalized she used her wand to send up fireworks in the street and laughed like she hadn’t laughed in years. she was free, and goddamnit, she was going to be happy.

she loves her work, and she loves her daughter. being a single working mother suits her far better than being a married housewife ever did. she’s happier than she’s ever been in her life … and then her sister falls ill, and daphne wonders if the sky will ever stop crashing down on her.

Current

daphne only really has one priority these days, and that priority is her family’s well-being.

daphne tries not to worry cynthia. she’s only a child, after all. she should be enjoying her time at hogwarts, not weighed down by tragedy. she knows she can’t keep cynthia completely in the dark; she’s a smart kid, and she’s very close to her cousin. still, daphne can ease her mind with sugar coated words and gentle promises … even if they so often taste like bitter lies.

whenever daphne has the time to read, she spends it pouring over anything and everything that might possibly help her sister. her reputation and skill set gives her access to a lot of unusual material, and she hopes one day it will help her dear sister.

she spends a lot of time with her daughter and with scorpius, always happy to look after her nephew or offer a helping hand to her sister and her husband. she loves scorpius as much as she loves her own daughter, and she’s promised her sister she would look after him.

she’s also promised to look after draco, and that’s proving much more of a challenge. she worries about him getting into trouble, crossing the wrong line, catching the wrong person’s attention. she wants to protect him, like she promised she would, but at the same time - how could she ever ask him to take a step back? she’s as desperate to cure her sister as he is; but she doesn’t want to lose him in the process, either.

Plots

i would love for daphne’s talents as a translator to come in handy for a plot, or plots. it’s an interesting passion of hers, and i love the idea of people coming to her to translate old writing, or ancient inscriptions, or people or magical beings.

daphne was the absolute mom of slytherin, but she also dropped off the map for awhile after the war. i would love to have her reconnect with old friends, or at least try to. bonus points if daphne still gets to mother them.

give me messy, complicated relationships please. romantic and platonic. i’m here for that shit.

potentially interested in the absolute panic of daphne being temporarily infected but we’ll see how things go.

daphne’s got a lot of money to throw around and i like the idea of someone approaching her to invest in something - some kind of charity, big event, business. they would need to win her over, of course, but it’d be interesting to have daphne really show her social/business/money skills.

daphne’s wanted to have more kids ever since she had cynthia, so that might come up at some point. whether she goes through with it, and how she goes about it, would depend entirely on how things end up happening in the roleplay.

Other

usually i have a pinterest board read before hand but it’s 2 am right now and i need to crash, so here is where the pinterest board will be. hopefully i put some stuff in it before y'all see it but if not … i’ll link it again later or something.

#urinfected

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winterslcdy · 5 years ago

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FIRST OF ALL HAPPY NEW YEAR LOVELIES !

I am starting the new year writing again. Which is very good ! I joined a group rp and hopefully this will get me back to Alys and my multimuse. It feels great to have muse and roleplay again ! Once I’m more confident I can be back.

#draw me like one of your french girls (ooc)

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callheavens · 6 years ago

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OOC: I don't know if that's okay with you, if not just skip this request. Eichi comes across his girlfriend's sketchbook and sees a sketch of himself in a black nightie (lingerie)

Eiichi, could you bring me some medicine on your way back from rehearsals?

Sure, anything else?

Nope! That’s all, thanks Love

You coughed and set your cellphone down on the table near the couch where you were spending your sick day. The headache was atrocious and your sinuses congested, but still you made an effort to spend your time productively. Wrapped in your blankets, you set a fresh sketchbook in your lap and stared at the blank page before you. The mechanical pencil in your hand hovered hesitantly. Drawing was a hobby you hadn’t had much time for recently and your skills were getting rusty. For starters, you didn’t know what to draw. You wanted to be better at drawing people, but drawing yourself seemed too vain, anyway, you would start with the basic shapes and see where you wound up.

You started with an oval for the head, then a cylinder for the neck. You thought it looked masculine, so you continued and gave your drawing a wide upper frame that tapered to a pleasant-sized waist ratio. Then you drew the arms, and redrew them, and erased them and drew them again in a different pose. The most important part was the face and so you sketched the eyes, but they looked sharply at you, and suddenly you realized who you were drawing. A smirk appeared, then the glasses and a tiny dot near his lips. You snorted as you continued this caricature of your boyfriend. Your pencil was uncontrollable now, as was your laughter, though it hurt and soon turned into a coughing fit. Your masterpiece was complete. Your body ached and you shivered, so you scooted down and laid on the couch, pulling the blanket towards your chin. You flipped the sketchbook over and left it on your stomach. Without warning, you fell asleep.

Eiichi arrives some time later with the medicine you’d asked for. He knocked on your door, and when there was no answer he used the spare key you gave him.

“I’m here.” He closed the door behind him and looked around your apartment. “Hello?” Something that sounded like sheets of paper fell to the floor. He leaves the medicine on the counter and head towards that sound which came from your living room.

Rounding the corner, Eiichi finds you asleep on the couch. A sketchbook lays haphazardly on the floor underneath your dangling hand. He picks it up and leafs through it, white page after white page until he finds your drawing.

His nose crinkles in disgust. “What the…?” He looks sharply to you, but you look so innocent while you sleep, not to mention red-nosed, that he says nothing further. He just closes the sketchbook shut and heads straight to your bathroom to shower and change out of his workout clothes.

You wake up when you feel the couch shift with added weight. Someone sat down by your feet. *Eiichi’s back!* you think and sit up to greet him, rubbing the nap from your eyes. When you finally focus on him, you can’t believe what you are seeing.

“Eiichi?! What? NO! Take it off! You’ll ruin it!” You yell at him, your voice hoarse and shrill. He just smiles wickedly while wearing your favorite black lace nightie, though unsuccessfully. It doesn’t fit his muscular torso and so he was only able to pass one arm through the armhole, and the other is peeking from under the bottom of the hem. One false move and the lace will rip. Your eyes are open wide in terror and but then what he says next has you coughing and laughing on the floor.

“Draw me like one of your French girls.” His voice is husky, but you know he’s just teasing you, so you tackle him.

Let’s just say, that what followed was an excellent life drawing lesson opportunity, and he owes you a new nightie.

Our amazing and talented artist friend @impossiblemart drew us this beautiful sketch. Please enjoy and check her out!

#utapri #utapri heavens #uta no prince sama #otori eiichi #utapri rp #utapri roleplay #heavens #watch it get flagged for inappropriate content #too much skin tone #eiichi otori #utapri scenarios

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