#maribat march

[maribatserver]

Maribat March 2025

It's time once again for everyone's favorite month of the year, Maribat March! Whether you're new to the fandom or an established fan, we hope that you'll join us for 31 days of prompts for all of your MLB x DC crossover needs!

Shout out to @newdog14 for designing this year's calendar, and to @izanae and @nottesilhouette for helping her brainstorm prompts to use!

Since reading a prompt list off an image is no one's idea of fun, you can read our full list of prompts is available to read under the cut, as well as our posting guidelines, which ensure that we can find your submissions and promote them! Happy creating to everyone! We can’t wait to see what you come up with!

For Tumblr Posts:

If you’re posting on tumblr, make sure to add @maribatserver and tag your work with #Maribat March 2025 so that we see it, and we’ll reblog your post here. Also make sure that you include “For Maribat March Day #: [Prompt]” for the readers. We also ask that if you’re posting a longer fic, you add a readmore cut, again for the ease of readers or other folks on the blog.

If you’re posting something NSFW, make sure that all your content is hidden under a readmore, and that it is both properly rated and tagged. If it’s not, we won’t be able to reblog it.

For Ao3 Posts:

If you’re publishing on Ao3, we have an Ao3 collection, just like last year. To be added to it, make sure to select “Maribat March (Maribat_March)” when you select the collection you want to add your fic to. For the ease of readers, make sure to include “For Maribat March Day #: [Prompt]” in your summary.

If you’re posting something NSFW, make sure that it’s rated as such, and has all of the relevant tags and warnings. If it doesn’t your work won’t be approved to the collection.

Prompt List

Sleepless Night

Mistaken Identity

Castaways

Despair

Unsweet Revenge

Losing Control

Take Flight

Stolen Sweater

Magical Boy

Son of Batman

Batarang

Girl Time

Eyes Wide Open

I've Got You

Baby Names

Massage

Ghosting

Chronic Pain

Scars

Joke's On You

Marionette

Meticulous Planning

Impulsive

Green Light

Ransom Note

Get Up!

High Road

Alone Together

Apprentice

Ruthless

Death Match

[starwarsmum]

Day 10 of Maribat March is Son of Batman! Second chapter of When a Comet Becomes a Meteor

@maribatserver

“Jesus Dames, you need to lay off the protein because you're getting impossible to carry around like this,” Jon groaned, trying to adjust his grip. 

Out of nowhere, one of the adversaries that had escaped them before collided with them and his tenuous grip was lost. Panic filled him as he tried to throw his adversary aside to catch Damian quickly, but he kept getting blocked. By the time he was free, Damian was much further away and he put on a burst of speed to try and catch up.

He had only flown a couple dozen feet down when he was stopped by an invisible force. He strained against it, his panic becoming overwhelming as he watched helplessly. Damian looked to be unconscious, his body limp as he hurtled down. Everything felt muffled and far away, but he thought he might be screaming. 

If he hadn't been leaning against something he would have fallen out of the sky when he saw something bright red streak towards his falling friend. He held his breath as he watched whoever it was slam sideways into Damian and save him from becoming a grease spot on a pavement. 

Now that he wasn't afraid that Damian was going to become a pancake, he was able to start working out why he hadn't been able to dive past the barrier. Glancing around dread started to pool as he spotted several famous landmarks and realised that he was being kept out of Paris, home to Ladybug and Chat Noir’s team of heroes.

He watched as who he had to assume was Ladybug looked around in confusion, checking Damian over carefully before hefting him onto her shoulders and yoyoing away. He followed her progress over to a tall building with a balcony that looked like it housed a storefront underneath and assumed she must be taking him to get help.

Biting his lip, he decided the next thing he needed to do was speak with Batman

_ _ _

“Hey Jon, mission go okay?” Dick asked when Jon flew into Wayne Manor. He noticed when Jon hesitated and immediately frowned, moving over to the half Kryptonian. “What’s wrong, something not go to plan? Where's Dami?”

“Uh, I-” he stuttered, his panic increasing when Bruce strolled in and eyed him curiously. “The mission was fine, we just- there was a hiccup on the way home.”

“Well, if you need to debrief we should really have Damian's side of things too. Is he in the cave?” Bruce asked, glancing over his shoulder. 

“Not…exactly. I, uh, I kind of couldn't bring him home, and I don't think I can go get him either.”

“What do you mean you can't get him?” Bruce frowned, very much channeling Batman at that moment. Jon swallowed hard and looked at his feet, mumbling something incomprehensible. “Jon, it was meant to be a quick trip - Damian’s supposed to be at school tomorrow and I don't know how you expect me to explain his absence-”

“I dropped him over Paris,” Jon said at last, mouth pressing into a line when Dick jumped to his feet. “He…he fell straight down but then something held me back and I couldn't- I had to watch him fall.”

“Jonathan, is Damian…” Bruce seemed choked up and Jon realised he hadn't told them that Damian was alive and in the care of the Parisian heroes, which he rectified quickly. Bruce and Dick took several moments to compose themselves. “Alright, so Damian can get through the barrier somehow, why don't we just wait for him to come back out? It isn't ideal but he should be able to get in touch with us as soon as he's outside of the area.”

After that Jon was allowed to head home, though Dick made him promise to do frequent flights over France so that they would be quick to help Damian when he needed it.

_ _ _

The next few weeks were torture. Whenever he had a spare minute, Jon was flying around the perimeter of Paris, trying to catch sight of his best friend. Every time he did, he felt a growing sense of dread because he couldn't find him and the magic barrier deadened all sounds so he couldn't even search for Damian's voice or heartbeat. 

When it had been an entire month, Bruce called for a meeting on the WatchTower and Jon had the feeling Wonder Woman was going to be getting a lot more questions surrounding the Paris situation. She had been very tight-lipped about the whole thing and very stern about keeping people out. 

The meeting started as tensely as Jon assumed it would and it only got worse from there. Wonder Woman remained completely steadfast in refusing to discuss all of what was happening in Paris and Bruce was getting increasingly angry at being shut out. Finally he snapped.

“My son fell through the barrier, we have no idea if he is even still alive! You will tell me how to get through it or I will find another way,” he shouted, glaring at her. Wonder Woman seemed perturbed but shook it away and returned a cool stare.

“I'm sorry you cannot reach Robin right now, but there is no way to get through that barrier. It is there to keep the villain in as much as it is to keep the rest of the Justice League out. You must be mistaken.”

“He's not,” Jon said quietly, before explaining what had happened the day Damian had been stranded in Paris. Wonder Woman's face grew thoughtful before grimacing in regret. “Please, I saw Ladybug catch him and carry him to safety but other than that…”

“I'm sorry,” she said again, although it was much softer this time. “If he did get through the barrier, it was a freak occurrence. I don't know how it could have happened and I have no way to ask until the barrier is lifted. But if he is in Ladybug's care he will be kept safe, I assure you.” 

And that was as much as Wonder Woman would discuss it, much to both Jon and Bruce's frustration.

_ _ _

Jon was at school when he received a call from Bruce over a month later telling him to get up to the WatchTower as soon as possible. It seemed to take an agonisingly long time to be excused, after which he wasted no time flying to the nearest Zeta Tube. 

He was a bundle of nerves as he approached his dad and the other two founders of the League, Wonder Woman looking much more spirited than she had previously. And when she informed them that they had been invited to a private audience with Ladybug after the defeat of the second Hawkmoth, Jon practically jumped straight into the Zeta Tube again to teleport to Paris, Bruce not far behind.

Ladybug greeted them at Notre Dame, the Eiffel Tower currently housing the biggest party Paris had seen in a long time. It was strange how it spread through the street but hardly anyone paid attention to the four foreign heroes as they made their way across the city. 

“Bonjour! Thank you for coming at such short notice,” she said with a bright grin. “I'm sure you're happy for us but I imagine you have been worried about Robin. He's fine,” she hurried to assure them. “A grumpy young man from what I hear from his housemate but absolutely invaluable in helping end the threat of the second Hawkmoth. I can take you to him now, if you would like.”

“Please!” Jon blurted out, receiving another smile from the heroine. She motioned for them to follow along and before long they were at the balcony Jon had last seen Damian and Ladybug disappearing to. “Is this where you live?”

“Hm? Oh, no, this is the home of an associate that graciously accepted the task of keeping him housed while he was stuck here,” Ladybug explained before lifting the skylight and calling in. “Monsieur Robin, your team has come to collect you.”

“Tt, about time,” came Damian's voice. It soothed the part of Jon that had been on edge since that awful moment he had seen his friend falling and been unable to save him. “Superboy, I'm glad to see that you are alright.”

“Yeah, same here buddy,” he choked out, leaping forward to pull Robin into his arms. He pulled back after a second and inspected his outfit with a frown. “Something's different about the suit.”

“The original was…unsalvageable. The girl I have been staying with insisted on creating a new one before I left and refused to listen to my protests,” Damian said with a scowl. But beyond that, Jon could see that Damian was pleased with the new suit and was moving in a way he could only describe as preening. 

“Well, I'm sure you've been desperate to return home,” Ladybug said abruptly, lips pursing slightly. Jon got the feeling that the girl Damian had been imposing on was a close friend of Ladybug's and she disliked the tone Damian spoke about her with. “Thank you for your assistance, Robin. Have a safe trip home and feel free to call upon our team should you ever need help.”

“Is Marinette not coming to ensure I leave?” Damian said with a frown, and Jon swore he could hear disappointment in his voice. His eyebrows shot up but nobody paid him any mind; Wonder Woman was looking at Ladybug with what could only be described as awe, Bruce was scrutinising his son, and his own dad was watching Damian happily. 

“She's celebrating with her friends, something everyone sorely needs,” Ladybug explained, tilting her head curiously. “But I’ll let her know that she has her home back to herself, don't worry.” 

“Please thank this family for caring for Robin,” Bruce said before Damian could say anything else. Jon was pretty sure he was the only one that could tell Damian was upset with this turn of events but he didn't dare say anything about that. Instead he tried to find another way to get Damian the audience he clearly wanted. 

“Well I kind of want to meet the girl that put up with Robin for two whole months! And say thanks since it was my mess up that landed him here,” Jon said. Ladybug looked at him thoughtfully but ultimately shook her head.

“I'm sorry, Marinette deserves time to be a normal teenager again. She's given a lot to the fight against both Hawkmoths and, really, she was targeted by each of them for different reasons. So I will pass along your gratitude but must ask that she and her family are given privacy.”

Jon knew he was being dismissed and he couldn't think of a way to argue that they should get the chance to thank her in person. Damian tutted but said nothing else, arms folding across his chest as Wonder Woman thanked Ladybug once more and told her that she could contact her whenever she wanted to join the Justice League.

Once they were back on the WatchTower Damian was swarmed by countless heroes and grumpily accepted their heartfelt welcomes. But Jon could see he was genuinely happy to see his family and accepted Dick's hugs with no grumbles or tuts. At last, Jon managed to get him alone to interrogate him about Marinette.

“There is nothing to tell you,” was the response he got, but Jon just raised an eyebrow. Damian sighed and ran a hand through his hair, eyes going slightly distant. “She was…annoying. And loud. Not to mention extremely stubborn. But she is- was a civilian aide and gave me shelter and company when I had nowhere else to go, simply because her local hero asked her to.

“And in spite of her character flaws…I grew accustomed to spending time with her. I assumed, erroneously, that she would like to see me off. It is unsurprising in hindsight as we spent a great deal of our time together arguing.”

“Maybe you can go back as a civilian some time?” Jon offered, only to get a sorrowful head shake. 

“She saw me without my mask but knew that I was Robin. I could not introduce myself properly without compromising my family's identities. It's nothing, Jonathan. I'm sure she is glad to be rid of me.”

Jon didn't want to leave it at that but he didn't know how to help. He hadn't met Marinette and if she was an ordinary person she likely hadn't liked Damian's attitude and demeanour. So he let Damian change the subject to a new rock and roll artist he had grown fond of in Paris.

Part 3

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Broken Hearts Are Contagious

Summary: If Marinette doesn't learn to love Tim back before the end of the week, he will die. She is not the victim... so why does she feel like crying?

Written for @maribatserver 's Maribat March

Day 1: Origin Story (for Poison Ivy)

Marinette sips at her drink. It’s non-alcoholic, of course, she isn’t intent on openly breaking the law when Commissioner Gordon is within sight. But that doesn’t change the fact that she is oh-so-tempted to try. She eyes the champagne pyramid not too far away. It is entirely decorative – it would be impossible to get a drink without everything toppling over, and even if you do manage to get one there is a high chance that the drink will be flat.

Then again, she really hates Wayne Galas, and that was a surefire way to make sure she would never have to go again…

Before she can commit to that particular bad idea, a hand taps her on the shoulder.

She whirls around to find a fortunately familiar face. Tim was always one to sneak up on people. He insists it’s accidental, and that he doesn’t mean to, but she has her doubts, because he always smiles so widely whenever he manages to catch her off-guard.

Regardless of his possibly evil ways, he is now leaning against the wall next to her. His hair is brushed, for once, slicked out of his face with far too much gel. She is sorely tempted to mess it up, purely as a petty form of revenge, but considering he is her ticket out of here… it seems like a bad idea.

She can always do it later.

“Tim,” she says, her bitter expression falling away in favor of a faint smile. “Thank the gods you’re here.”

“I’m here to save the day,” he says with a sarcastic little bow, his lips curling in a smirk. “Let’s run away together.”

She doesn’t wait for another second before gathering up her dress in her hands. The air is cloyingly sweet from all of the intermingling perfumes, and she wants out. “Absolutely. How do we escape?”

“Depends, are you down to climb a drainpipe?”

“There’s no way that’ll hold our weight,” Marinette says, her eyebrows raising.

He huffs, but he doesn’t actually seem all that put out. “It might. But, fine, guess we’ll just have to leave the normal way.”

So, hand in hand, they make their grand escape.

Okay, that might be a little dramatic, all they do is find their way to a higher balcony so they can talk without fear of being forced into conversations about stocks and taxes and ooooh, I just LOVE your dress, DO tell me where you got it.

No, they have much more interesting conversations in store for them, like gossip.

“They say there’s a new assassin on the loose,” says Tim.

She has heard that. Quite a few rich people had suddenly been found dead – poisoned, to be specific. But, as she looks out over the Gala below them, she is sorry to say that the assassin is not going fast enough.

Marinette hums absently. “There’s always another assassin.”

“It’s a good line of work. Business is booming. If only I didn’t have those pesky morals,” sighs Tim.

Marinette can only nod along. One day she, too, will have a terrible accident that leads to her becoming a supervillain, she is sure her time will come eventually.

But, for now, she is much more interested in chatting with her best friend.

“I heard Cobblepot is secretly a Rogue,” Marinette says, leaning over the railing so she could properly squint at the man. She opts to ignore the rest of that particular rumor, because not even their friend Bernard would believe that the umbrellas the man carried were all secretly insane gadgets.

Tim snickers as if he can hear her thought process. “Yeah? Are you gonna tell me you believe in The Batman, too?”

She grins. “And what if I do? What would you do?”

“Well, stop you from hanging out with Bernard, for one.”

Marinette gasps. “You would never! My mental health would shatter if I was not allowed to talk to my emotional support delusional friend.”

“I need you to repeat the last four words of that sentence for me.”

“... emotional support delusional friend?”

“Yeah, thanks for proving my point.”

“You’re no fuuuuuun.”

“I’m practical. I go out at night all the time. If he existed, I think I would have seen him by now.”

Okay, does Marinette actually believe in Batman? No, absolutely not. But damn if she wasn’t going to defend his honor. “Well, yeah, if he’s a hybrid half-man, half-bat being, it makes sense that he would be trying to hide himself as much as possible!”

“And that’s how I know you’re not a true bat-fan. Any true believer knows he is three-fourths bat and one-fourth man.”

Alas, she has been caught.

She leans back against the banister, pouting. “How was I supposed to know you were actually paying attention to Bernard’s rants? I always thought you were lost in your own head. You never speak!”

He lifts his hands in a sheepish little shrug. “I like listening to you guys talk.”

“Ha. Simp.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Real mature.”

“I am, thank you for noticing. This is why I should be allowed to drink underage —.”

She never finishes her sentence, because her eyes stray to the champagne tower, and that particular train of thought is derailed. For a woman stands at the base of the pyramid. Which is already strange, but her outfit is even stranger. A dress that appears to be made out of leaves, rustling behind her as she walked. Red hair is threaded with thick green ribbons that remind her of vines.

Dully, Marinette thinks she might actually want to know where the woman had gotten her dress.

A hand reaches out and plucks a champagne glass from the pyramid.

It topples faster than you might expect, the glasses clinking against each other briefly before they’re sent to the floor, shattering in a messy display. Glass shards and liquid gold spilling across the tile.

If people weren’t looking at the mysterious woman before, they certainly are now.

She smiles.

“Hello, Gotham,” she says, her voice echoing. Is she hooked up to a mic? Or is she just that good at projecting? “I’m the newest assassin, Poison Ivy.”

Understandably, most people back up a few steps. Even Tim and Marinette, who are safely on a balcony she could not reasonably reach anytime soon, flinch backward.

She smiles wider.

“You’re kinda a bad assassin, though,” Brucie Wayne speaks up, and everyone in the vicinity immediately cringes. “I mean, why tell us now? Why not – like – after you kill us?”

“Easy! Because you’re all already dead!”

Brucie looks down at himself, as if to confirm that he has legs.

The people who have two functioning brain cells to rub together, though, immediately blanche at the news. They’re already doomed? How? Her name more than implies that her killing method of choice is poison, so… where is it? It can’t be the food, people hardly eat at parties like this (despite how good the food is), and it’s not as if she could poison every single drink without anyone noticing.

“There is poison in the very air you breathe.”

Wait, what?

Her hands come up to cover her mouth and nose, as if it is still something she can fix. She has been smelling that sickening sweetness for well over ten minutes now, she can’t uninhale it.

“It’s slow-acting…  not that slow-acting, you all have around a week, max, but…” she shrugs, her eyes gleaming. “I figured I should give you all the time to say goodbye to your loved ones.”

That was… surprisingly generous.

For some reason, Marinette can’t bring herself to trust it.

Indeed, Poison Ivy continues on: “Well, your loved ones. I’m sure all of you know that you are unlovable, that they only love your money… I’m sure they’ll all be very pleased to learn of your sudden passing.”

Unsurprisingly, this is not what people want to hear immediately after being told that they are going to die in a week or less.

“In fact, I’m willing to bet on all of you rich people being unloved – so much so that my little plants are based around it! If any of you love someone, and find it to not be reciprocated, the plant will take root, and you will die.”

It is deathly silent.

A… plant?

“Wait! How?” Marinette is the first one to speak up. She isn’t scared, not really, just confused beyond measure.

And Poison Ivy seems to be experiencing the same strange emotion, because she balks a little bit upon seeing Tim and Marinette. She hesitates, briefly, her confident posture wavering, before she brings herself back to the present, outright laughing at her.

“You are all going to die, and you want to know how?”

Marinette just nods. Call it denial and bargaining mixing together into one very unfortunate cocktail (she really should have drank earlier), but she has to know.

The woman considers her for a moment, before sighing. “The plants should have already taken root in all of your brains. They feed off of certain nutrients. As time continues on, they will run out of room and begin pushing their way down, through your heart, into your lungs…” She waves a hand. “I’m sure that I don’t need to continue, we all get the idea.”

Brucie looks like he absolutely does not.

But Poison Ivy does not seem to care enough to explain anything to him.

“Get your affairs in order, everyone!”

No one even tries to stop her when she leaves.

Someone laughs, but it is nervous. A woman tucks her hair behind her ear. “Well… it’s a good thing that I’m married, now, isn’t it?” she asks her husband.

Said husband looks like he would much rather be anywhere but there. “So – so true, honey.”

Marinette remembers, dully, that both of them are cheating on each other. She wonders if they know. She wonders if either of them will be around next week.

She will live, though.

“Thank the gods I decided I wasn’t going to date anyone until college,” Marinette jokes lightly.

Tim wheezes.

She didn’t think that the joke was that funny.

“Yep, isn’t that… convenient?” he says, sounding pained.

She looks over at him, frowning, and finds him leaning against the banister. His hands grip the marble, his knuckles turning white. She is pretty sure that this is the palest she has ever seen him.

Dread begins to trickle down her back.

“Tim?”

He winces.

“You like someone that doesn’t like you back, don’t you?”

He nods ever so slightly, his gaze determinedly pointed at their feet.

“It’s not Bernard, is it?” she tries.

He shakes his head.

And Marinette can’t help it – she bursts out laughing. Until she is gasping for breath between peals of laughter. She laughs so hard she feels tears begin to well in her eyes.

Tim jolts to look at her. “What the hell is funny about any of this?”

“I was just thinking…” she quickly swipes her fingers beneath her eye in fruitless hopes that her mascara won’t run, still giggling. “I was wondering if this was going to be the start of my supervillain arc or something.”

Tim gives her an incredulous look.

This, of course, only makes her laugh harder.

~

One week to live, max.

It is… an interesting stipulation. She assumes that ‘Poison Ivy’ wants her victims to suffer, but why only for a week?

It could be that the ‘disease’ (Marinette refuses to believe that plants can be in any way sentient) is fast-acting, but it also might be a safeguard of sorts. Maybe there is a way to counteract the disease, some sort of cure.

Maybe that was hopeful thinking.

Maybe that would be worse for her in the long run. It is probably easier to give up – like Tim seems to have, it has not escaped her notice that it is lunchtime and he still hasn’t attended any of their shared classes – and accept that there is nothing you can do instead of trying fruitlessly to find a solution.

After all, she is just a random high schooler. Even if there is a cure of some sort, there is nothing that she can do. She is only passing her biology class by the skin of her teeth! She can’t deal with a bioweapon!

She presses her face into her hands. The cafeteria is silent. Basically no one is attending classes today. They’re all stressed about the bioweapon thing and don’t want to spend their last moments in a classroom.

She gets that.

And yet.

She doesn’t want to be alone right now.

She wants her best friend.

But, while he is her best friend, she isn’t his. And the thought makes her want to be sick. For once, the fact that her skin tinges green in the school cafeteria isn’t actually due to the food. She hasn’t eaten any, and she can't even smell it thanks to the horrible sugary smell that has been trapped in her nose since the Gala.

She pushes her plate out of the way and sinks to rest her head against the table, as if it might soothe her headache.

It doesn’t.

Most likely because the headache is more metaphorical than literal.

It’s a bit literal, too, though. She’s probably gritting her teeth.

How could she not?

She doesn’t want to talk to Tim. She doesn’t want to know how many of their interactions over the years they hadn’t been on the same page for. Doesn’t want to have to think about all of the joking flirting they had done, and how it had only been a joke for her.

She understands that he has feelings, and that he can’t help them, but that doesn’t make her feel any less violated.

Because, ultimately, if she had known she wouldn’t have behaved in all of the same ways, and it feels like that is part of the reason why he hadn’t told her.

He probably didn’t want things to change in their relationship, but why doesn’t she get a say in that?

Things had changed. She just hadn’t been told about it.

So, why does she still want to go to him? She feels betrayed. By him. He is the very reason she is upset, and yet she still wants to seek comfort in him.

She hates emotions. Can she have a refund? Yeah, she’s lost the receipt and all, but…

She can’t bring herself to care enough to finish the joke, even in her own mind.

It was stupid, anyway.

The silence in the cafeteria is almost oppressive.

A hand taps her on the shoulder and she hesitates, considering playing dead to make them go away. Then she realizes that she might actually convince people that she was dead, considering the current circumstances, so she lifts her head.

Bernard takes a seat beside her, smiling. The prick had been out of town during the Gala. Lucky him. If he had gone, he would currently be dying due to his unrequited crush on Tim’s stepmom.

“You should go visit him,” he says, as if it’s really that simple.

She gives him a flat look. He had always been an airhead. You’d think that watching your friend die in front of you in a mob-related school shooting would wisen you up some, but Bernard remains entirely without a brain.

She supposes she should have expected this. After all, Brucie Wayne exists. Clearly, it is possible.

“It’s not that easy,” she says, sinking back against the table again, wondering if she can meld with it and avoid the conversation.

“I know. But you’re going to regret it if you don’t.”

Marinette pauses and lifts her head to meet his eyes.

She hates it when the dumbest person in the room makes a good point.

Because doesn’t that make her the new dumbest person by default?

Still, she is also the most stubborn, so she glares at him. “I’m sorry, if I was dying because I secretly had a crush on you this whole time, would you want to come visit me?”

Bernard, to his credit, actually considers this. And then, in true Bernard fashion, just shrugs.

She groans. “I’ll be fine.”

He snorts. “You’re not even fine now. Mari, no offense, but have you seen yourself?”

“Sorry for not looking great after finding out my best friend of several years is going to die because I can’t reciprocate his feelings,” she says flatly.

Bernard sobers, if only slightly.

He sighs, matching her posture. “You’re going to regret it if you don’t,” he repeats.

Marinette glares at the tray in front of her like it has personally offended her. To be fair, it has – who decided that melted cheese on bread is a good entree?

“I’m going to go grab something else for lunch,” she says, pushing the tray over to him. “No one is doing classes today, anyway.”

Bernard doesn’t say a word about her dumb excuse. Maybe he is too concentrated on the terrible ‘food’ that has been forced upon him.

She can’t bring herself to care. As long as no one questions her, she will be fine.

~

Marinette stares up at the wooden lattice that she can use to reach Tim’s window. It is supposed to house flowers, she is pretty sure, but they have long since shriveled up and died. It wasn’t due to neglect, the Drakes had always made sure that the outside of their house, at least, was always well tended to. No, this, she was pretty sure that she had just trampled over the plants so many times while visiting her friend that they just stopped bothering to grow.

She supposes that it could be ironic, that the flowers are dead because of her, and flowers are killing her friend because of her, but she can’t seem to find the energy to wax poetic right now.

For a moment, she doesn’t move, her hand resting against the wooden lattice.

Should she hang out with him? If he is going to die, she wants to spend time with him before he goes… but would that make him die faster? Would constant, tiny rejections make the flowers – the disease – take over faster?

How does this stupid fake flower disease even work? What are the stipulations?

She hates being helpless.

She clambers up the lattice and makes sure she is fully seated on the windowsill before she raps her knuckles against the glass. She peers into the dark room, wondering if anyone is even there, trying to make out shapes in the dark.

A lump on the bed slowly shifts, an arm reaching out to flick on a lamp. Tim sits up slowly. He blinks bleary eyes open.

And then he bolts upright.

Tim stares at her, as if he is half convinced that she’s a hallucination.

For a moment, she wishes for that to be the case but, when his otherwise pale cheeks flush with the slightest bit of color upon seeing her, her stomach lurches in a way that assures her that all of this is very much real.

He scrambles to his feet so fast he almost slips on his blanket, and she almost huffs a laugh at the sight. He manages a sheepish smile.

The window latch unlocks and she is allowed to make her way inside.

Tim… doesn’t look great. His pajamas swamp him and his hair is almost painfully messy, but all she can really focus on is how gaunt his face looks.

He looks frail.

A week… max.

Marinette can’t bring herself to speak, not even to say hi.

“I – I didn’t know whether you would come,” he admits.

Marinette manages a ghost of a smile. “I considered not.”

He gives an aborted little laugh. “... well, you’ve always been brutally honest, I guess.”

… was she?

Marinette would say quite the opposite, that she usually beat around the bush for most things, so long as they weren’t vitally important.

But here he was, defending her rudeness with ease, in fact he almost seemed fond. So much so that she almost began to wonder whether he was right and she was the one that was wrong.

Or whether he didn’t even know her. Whether the ‘Marinette’ that he had fallen in love with wasn’t even actually her, but instead some idolized version of her.

She was no angel. She had flaws. She was just a regular person.

She wonders if Tim would agree if she said those words aloud. But, ultimately, she isn’t the type to say that, to bring those things out into the open, so instead she gives a laugh – it is late, and it does nothing to clear the awkward air, but it is already out there, so it’s not as if it can be taken back.

Tim’s smile wavers, if only slightly. “... how about a movie?”

She almost jumps at the opportunity to have something break the silence.

But she soon realizes her mistake because, once the movie is on, there is really no reason to talk anymore. Tim hadn’t put on a purposefully bad movie they could laugh at together. He had opted for Howl’s Moving Castle. The subbed version, they aren’t plebs… but this also meant that they have to concentrate on the movie somewhat in order to keep track of what is going on.

Not that they don’t already know it all by heart. They’ve rewatched it dozens of times over the years.

Marinette had always thought the romance between Howl and Sophie was a little bit forced, but she liked the movie regardless. And, even if she hadn’t, it wasn’t as if she was going to stop Tim from watching the movie he chose when he was going to die soon.

Still.

They are both quiet, as is standard for watching a movie, and yet… this time, it is different. Now, she is aware of the way Tim’s eyes stray to her more often than not.

The silence isn’t the fond, loving kind that people always talk about. It is uncomfortable. It is an unspoken acknowledgment that things have changed.

Marinette wishes, silently, for things to go back to the way they were.

She wants her best friend back.

But it looks as if she is going to have to settle for the next best thing.

She looks at Tim. He’s lying against the pillows in a way that would seem casual if it were not for the sunkenness of his eyes. His lips are curled into the slightest of smiles as he looks at the screen, but he is quick to turn his attention onto her.

She takes on deep breath, steeling herself.

It doesn’t help.

But she still grabs him by the shirt and drags his lips up to meet hers anyway.

She fights down a wave of revulsion.

He can’t die. He can’t! She can bear to live in discomfort. She is not going to live without him, not if she can help it.

He kisses her back. He is, objectively, a good kisser. His hands cradle her face like she is something precious.

She wants to be sick. Her hands ball tighter in his shirt.

She just needs to think of all of those movies. The ones where the girl realizes that she actually loved the guy all along, and was just too stupid to not realize it before.

She swears she can taste copper. She nearly chokes on it.

She does love Tim. He is sweet, and kind, and intelligent, and her best friend. Don’t people talk about how a good friendship leads to a good relationship?

Right?

Right?

He pulls back (finally).

His thumbs swipe beneath her eyes. Had she been crying? 

It might not work if she cries.

She doesn’t want to open her eyes. Doesn’t want to see Tim’s face. Doesn’t want to know whether she had accidentally doomed him.

This is all so unfair.

Why is she the one who has to change?

Why can’t he love her in the way she loves him?

She can’t breathe.

She can’t breathe.

She can’t breathe.

She opens her eyes to find his lips stained a deep red. His eyes are wide with horror.

Marinette feels a strange wave of satisfaction. At least it isn’t her, for once.

When she keels forward, coughing into their laps, bloodied flower petals spill from her lips.

[kawaii-queen-kaiju]

Lies

Maribat March - Prompt 10

~

"He gave me a diamond the size of my fist! You can't tell anyone though; the paparazzi would be all over us." Lila loudly proclaimed from across the cafeteria. Marinette scoffed, throwing a disgusted sneer over her shoulder at the Italian. This was the fifth celebrity engagement story. She wondered just how she got unfortunate enough to be surrounded by these idiots. She could kill everyone in this room in two minutes flat, and yet, she had to restrain herself for the sake of the mission. Keep playing the role of meek little 'Mari', keep pretending she wasn't one of the most skilled assassins in the world. Stupid Hawkmoth. Because of some random ass dude, she was stuck among these sheeple.

She quickly left the cafeteria, exiting the school and heading to the bakery. She greeted Sabine - a member of the Order of the Miraculous and one of her old handlers - and climbed the stairs to her room. Just a little longer. She was so close to finding the man who had enough audacity to steal from the Order. And Hawkmoth, him too.

Her phone rang, startling her out of her inner monologue. It was Damian, her betrothed. She happily answered, the smile on her face genuine for once. 'Habibti. How was your day?' He asked, an odd whirring echoing in the background. 'Have you stabbed the harlot yet?'

She rolled her eyes, the smile on her face persisting. "It was fine. And no, I have not stabbed Lila, as much as I may want to. It's annoying, but it's helping my cover. She keeps the idiots from following me around, and it makes easier to search Paris for the lousy fake-Guardian and whatever asshat he let take the Butterfly." 

'And you're still sure you would not like me to join you and help?'

She sighed, the conversation a common one since she was sent to Paris. "I've got this, Dami. Besides, you wouldn't last five minutes here. I love you, but you are very temperamental."

He squawked angrily, and she could picture the offended look on his face, his jade green eyes crinkling adorably. 'I am not temperamental! You seem to be forgetting just how many of our trainers you sent to the infirmary.'

She rolled her eyes. "They were misogynistic pricks, and you know it."

'I was not arguing that they weren't, Habibti, merely stating that you extensively hurt each of them. In fact, I am quite glad for what you did. Had you not, Mother never would have seen fit to have us betrothed.'

Marinette smiled happily at the memory, standing in the middle of the large al-Ghul throne room in ceremonial garb, opposite Damian in matching robes. "Yeah." She glanced at the clock on the wall and cursed. "Sorry, Dami. I need to head back. Call you back later?"

'Of course. I love you, Habibti.' He answered curtly, though she could tell he was peeved at being cut off. "I love you too."

She came back to excited whispers throughout the classroom, and a huddle around Lila's desk. Marinette rolled her eyes, heading towards her own desk at the back of the room. Except...

She was stopped in her tracks by one whispered word. 'Damian'. There were plenty of Damians in the world, and several rich ones Lila could be claiming she's engaged to; but what if? Marinette continued up the stairs, but kept an ear on the conversation at the front.

'Wayne'.

Marinette clenched her teeth. They were talking about Damian. Her Damian. She'd seen articles and heard rumors before, right after Damian's debut as a billionaire's son, but something about hearing her beloved's name come from that liar's mouth made her see green. She was fuming, trying to force away the murderous haze. She was chosen for this mission specifically because of the ease it took to banish the Pit's influence from her mind, and she was not going to let Lila of all people ruin it for her. 

At the front of the room, the door slammed open. Marinette's mind screeched to a halt, because standing there in all of his glory was Damian. She shot to her feet and raced down the stairs before she registered what she was doing. He was here, right in front of her! She flung her arms around him, squeezing tight.

"Hello, Habibti." He whispered in her ear, squeezing her back. "What are you doing here?" She asked, pulling back to look at him. "Father found something. Camera footage of the akumas, and an identity, over a hundred and twenty years old. They're going after them now." He said, a happy gleam in his eye despite the lack of emotion on his face. Marinette grinned widely. Her mission is over! She can go back to Nanda Parbat - or Gotham!

"Marinette, what's going on?"

She turned around abruptly, remembering their audience. "Who is this?" Alya was front and center, glaring at her accusingly. Marinette's mind was whirling, trying to find an in-character way to answer. Except they found them. The false Guardian and the Butterfly. She didn't have to keep up her cover anymore. She grinned, her true smile, not the meek thing she'd developed the past few months.

She watched as Lila's little lapdog recoiled, enjoying the effect she finally got to have on her classmates. Marinette stalked forward, easily falling back into her natural gait. The walk of a predator. "I'm happy to announce that I'm done! I don't have to sit here and pretend anymore! You're all horribly stupid, and it was definitely not a pleasure to have known you." She let her smile widen to that terrifying degree that always made her targets believe she was inhuman. She never dissuaded those thoughts, instead encouraging them. "And you, Lila Rossi. You are a lying sociopath, and to be honest, I can respect that! But you chose to put my beloved's name in your mouth, and you've made me mad. Unfortunately for you, that is an unpleasant situation to be in."

"M-Marinette?" Alya tripped backwards on the steps, falling on her butt. She was ignored. Marinette's focus was on Lila, the repulsive girl who dared to soil her beloved's name with her tongue. To her credit, Lila was managing to hold eye contact with Marinette, even if it was in paralysis. "Tell me," Marinette slammed her hands on the lying girl's desk. "Do you do any research before you decide to spread rumors?" 

Lila was pale and shaking, her mouth a thin line. She didn't answer. "You do, don't you? You recognize my beloved, and you realize your house of lies is toppling around you." Marinette ended with a whisper, her face inches from the Italian's.

The room was silent, everyone's focus on the scene before them. On the way Marinette's personality did a complete one-eighty and froze everyone in their spots. Well, everyone except for the boy. He was staring at Marinette in adoration, hands clasped behind him as he watched his betrothed tear into her hemorrhoid of the last several months. His phone buzzed in his pocket, the only sound in the room. "Habibti. It's done."

Marinette whirled around, her sunshine smile back. "Then why are we still here?" She linked arms with the boy and left the room in stunned silence.

(The LoA and The Order are the same organization under different names)

[liquid-luck-00]

Red Binding 1

Maribat March Day 1: Origins

@maribat-calendar-events @maribatserver

Next

Trigger for implied neglect, blood, and violence towards a minor

~~~~~~~~~~

Marinette was, what most would consider a normal, happy, child. But that was far from the truth.

She was ten when she finally noticed something was off.

Her parents as much as she loved them and they said that they loved her. Never made time for her. Never asked more than how was her day, so she would ramble about anything and everything. She never had a curfew and her parents never seemed to worry. That's when the bullying began.

She was eleven when she recognized that the bakery was the top priority and not her.

Her school life was in shambles. Her friendships were strung by a thread, with even a whisper from Chloé, they would abandon her.

So when a small box appeared in her room, at the age of twelve, and from it a small red creature asked her to leave with them she agreed. They talked for hours, extending for days (a bit over a week in total), before she was truly good and ready to leave Paris. They spoke about their lives (existence in Tikki’s case), the powers and responsibilities that would be placed upon Marinette, but most of that time they enjoyed one another’s presence.

The creature listened to her, actually listened to what she had to say, gave her a choice, so she agreed to follow the creature.

In the middle of the night she packed a small bag and stood in the center of her room. "Are you ready, Marinette?" The creature, Tikki they called themselves, chirped. "As much as I can be." She looked the creature in the eyes and everything spun. It felt as if she was floating, or not, as she slammed onto the stone floor.

When she stood up, she dusted herself off and looked around. She was in a well kept garden, the air was thin, but the moon was bright over head.

"ལགས་སོ། ཁྱེད་རང་ཕེབས་བྱུང་།" A voice startled her as she jumped from the sound.

"Who are you?" She questioned. "Where am I?"

The man was still, he didn't seem to hear her, or maybe he didn't understand.

"ང་དང་མཉམ་དུ་ཤོག" The man turned and walked into a building that looked like some sort of temple. She stood there staring where the man used to be before he turned back. His even strides carried him right to her. "ངས་རང་ཉིད་ལ་བསྐྱར་ཟློས་མི་བྱེད།" The man's tone surprised her, she jumped to her feet, following him at a brisk pace.

Lanterns lit the walls of the hall, no doors or even windows could be seen. The two of them walked in silence for what seemed a half hour, but she couldn't tell. She tried to remember the path, but there were too many turns and steps to remember.

They stopped at an ornate circular red door, that was roughly twelve meters in diameter. Golden knots were carved expertly into the wood.

He stepped aside as if she was supposed to do something, but she didn't know what. So Marinette stepped forward and placed a hand on a golden vein.

A flash of golden light erupted from where her hand touched the wood, as it swung open on silent hinges.

She had turned away, in an attempt to shield her eyes.

"Welcome, child." A voice from inside was warm and she stepped forward.

She wanted to say something but thought better. Yes she understood this new voice, but the man before she still has no idea what he said. She just followed him and he led her here.

"Do not fear to speak child." The voice came from everywhere, echoing through the large cavern. What looked like an island garden sat in the middle. A giant oak tree with flowers blooming in complete darkness sat at this center. Chimes rang thought the branches without any wind.

"Who are you?" She finally asked, voice small, as she looked around. "Where am I?"

Chimes rang almost resembling laughter. "I am known as the supreme. As to where you are, you are with the Order of Miraculii, my child of creation."

"Order? Creation? Where is Tikki?" She started rambling questions in the hopes of at least one being answered.

"All will be answered in time." Chimes once again filled the cavern.

"སུའུ་晗་ང་ཚོའི་ན་གཞོན་སྲུང་མཁན་ལ་བཀའ་སློབ་གནང་རོགས།"

"ཁྱོད་ཀྱིས་བཀའ་གསུང་གནང་བ་བཞིན་དུ་ངའི་བླ་ན་མེད་" The man spoke with a bow, before placing a hand on her shoulder and leading her out of the cavern.

He led her to a room that was somewhere deep in the temple, at least she assumes it is. The room was simple, a four poster bed sat against the far wall. A desk was set next to it with a bookshelf that was carved into the wall above it. A dresser was next to the door, and a thick rug was spread underfoot.

"Tikki."

"Yes." The little god appeared in front of her with a poof.

"What’s going to happen now?"

"There is a lot for you to learn, but for now rest. The morning will come soon."

•••

Jason didn’t know why he left that night.

Scratch that he knew exactly why.

Bruce and Dick were arguing again, and no matter where he was at the manor he still heard them. But it wasn’t them it was Cathrine and Willis fighting for the uptenth time. So he did what he always did, he snuck out.

He was running roof tops trying and failing to get the voices out of his head. The weather was starting to change and a sludge of rain and snow fell around him. If only…

He shot out to grapple to the next building but with the semi frozen and slick exteriors the hook slipped. He began to free fall, as the line retracted, and everything was quiet. He heard his heart flutter then a sharp click. The line was back and he shot it again, this time it landed. He was yanked and thrown into a graceful arc before landing on another roof.

He stood in the middle of the high rise roof. Completely soaked but he didn’t care, he just wanted to stay in this quiet for a little while longer. He sneezed, breaking him from his stupor, sure the suit helped keep him relatively dry, but it didn’t do much for the cold, less still for his head that was completely out to the elements.

He kicked a few rocks that were strewn in the roof in an attempt to warm up, but stopped when some sort of metal glinted underfoot.

He reached down and found a ring, and when his fingers wrapped around the metal a flash of green illuminated the rooftop.

"Finally!" A nasally voice echoed around him. "I thought you were never going to notice it."

"Who are you?" He half whispered half yelped. "Show yourself." He reached for a batarang.

"No need kitten." A tiny cat like creature floated up to his eye level. "Names Plagg, and you are?"

He didn’t answer, he’ll he didn’t know if this was real or if he might actually be asleep. He gripped the batarang, feeling as it sliced through his glove straight to his hand.

"Not asleep." He whispered to himself. "So what are you?" He attempted to poke the creature with his finger, but it easily evaded him. It took hold of the ring and dropped it on to his finger.

"I am a kwamii, specifically of chaos and destruction." They puffed their chest, watching as the ring emanated a soft glow before it stopped. "And you are my kitten."

"I’m not your anything." He didn’t want to be involved with magic, it only seemed to cause problems, if the reports Bruce had was anything. "It started with that ring, right?"

"Yes an…" He didn’t let him finish speaking, he tried to pull the ring off, but it was gone.

"What did you do?" His attention snapped to the supposed god, or whatever it was.

It was about to say something when his vision started to blur. Something heavy slammed into his head. He felt himself starting to crumple forward, laughter ringing behind him.

When he woke up, Jason was tied and laying face first in a dingy old storeroom or maybe a warehouse. There wasn’t much light except for three industrial lights towards the center of the room. And under the furthest one was the silhouette of a person.

"Is the birdie awake?" The voice was tinged with laughter, it sent chills down his spine. He knows who that voice belongs to.

I’m sorry.

"Let’s have some fun now!" Joker came into his view and then he noticed the item in his hand, but he couldn’t stop him. The crowbar swung down and it connected with his upper arm. He was thrown into a box to his right. The next hit was to his stomach, as he coughed up blood.

I’m sorry. He heard again, but Joker didn’t react to it. So he knows Plagg is in his mind.

Stop apologizing and talk. He thought, and he did.

Plagg told him a story. He tuned out best he could, but it was difficult whenever he would be thrown around. It even felt like Plagg was holding his breath at times, waiting for his attention to continue.

"Well it’s been fun, Boy Blunder, but you should go to bed. Don’t forget to brush your teeth and say hello to the Big Bad Bat." He left him there in a heap on the floor, a ringing his ears silenced everything except for Plagg.

"Come on, get up! Please!" He saw Plagg flying in frantic circles over a box.

"There is a bomb, and…" Plagg placed two paws on his forehead before flying back, to where the bomb must be. "You will live, Kitten, I swear it."

A flash of green and black rolled over him, yet the blast of air did however destroy the building they were in. But he saw Plagg fly back to him. He felt him curl into his hair, his purring rhythmic, as he began to loose consciousness.

"What a waste." He felt someone turn him over. Changing the path of the blood on his face to stream into his mouth. It tasted like iron, and dirt, and it burned his throat. "I will see you when you awaken."

His world went black, Plagg’s put was a constant rumble. The next time he opened his eyes it was dark, Plagg was on his chest staring at him, his green eyes glowing in the dark.

Steady breaths kitten. Plagg’s voice echoed in his mind, as he tried to explain what was happening. You’re in a coffin.

"How!?" He began to panic, but Plagg began purring which calmed him.

You need to stay calm, you can get out. Focus my power.

I don’t know how. He thought, not risking wasting the little air he had.

The ring on your finger is a focus for power. Do you feel the space my presence takes up within your mind?

He searched concentrating on Plagg’s voice and presence in his mind. Yes.

Good. Now pull that towards the ring. He pulled at it but there was a resistance, like a rubber band being stretched too far.

Slowly. He made the connection and his palm glowed with a faint black and green light. Now touch the area in front of you.

He did and as soon as he did the rubber band snapped back. But a hole big enough for him to pass though was above him, along with a foot of dirt above it. He was tired but he tried again. It was harder this time, but he managed. He touched the top of the dome, but only a few inches disappeared this time. He was about to try again when Plagg stopped him.

Don’t kid! You’re exhausted. Channeling magic requires energy along with training it, like any other muscle. We have to dig the rest of the way.

Fine. He huffed.

The ground was wet and soft from all the rain. But he knew if he didn’t hurry that would be an obstacle. It was starting to freeze. That’s how he knew he was getting close to the surface. Plagg had been moving the dirt into the casket, allowing him to stand. Yet he flew up to him this time with a broken piece of wood, and he knew just what he needed it for. He finally broke through the surface and pulled himself up. He laid back, legs still in the hole, but he stared at the cloudy sky, taking giant gulps of air.

"I knew you could do it, Kitten." Plagg stiffened and his hackles rose before disappearing. Guard yourself.

What do you mean?

"You were quicker than I thought." A feminine voice carried through the cemetery. He stiffened, knowing what Plagg was warning him of. "Now let us be off."

Someone grabbed him and he tried to fight them, but he was exhausted and they weren’t.

Next

~~~~~~~~~~

Permanent Taglist:

@jennifer-rose123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @joydone07 @mizzy-pop @starling218 @crystalqueertea

[intotherabithole]

Prompt Siren

Tim x Marinette

[heqvenlymoons]

The Robbery of a Potted Plant

For Maribat March Day 16: Robbery

@maribatserver

Damian was looking forward to a weekend of having the entire manor to himself. 

Dick was in Bludhaven, Tim was working in his office at WE, Jason was sleeping over at Roy’s, Cass was in Shanghai along with Steph and Barbara for a ‘girls' weekend’ or whatever it is they called it, Father was in space somewhere while Alfred was on a well-deserved and overdue vacation. 

That left Damian to his own devices for what was supposed to be a peaceful weekend without his meddlesome imbecile siblings.

He had been looking forward to it and was playing video games (yes, he is capable of such activity) when the unexpected doorbell ring interrupted his solitude. 

Damian set his controller down, scowling at the empty room. He knew his nosy family’s habits and routines like the back of his head, and he was sure no one would return until Sunday night. 

Perhaps Alfred changed his mind and returned because he felt Damian was incapable of tending to himself. Typical of his pseudo-grandfather figure, always putting others before himself. 

Or it could be Todd returning to retrieve something he had forgotten to pack earlier in the day. 

Damian’s eyes narrowed when he heard the bell ring again, somehow sounding louder than the first attempt. 

That wasn’t right. If it were someone from the family, they wouldn’t be ringing the doorbell. 

He made his way out of the living room and, as he did, grabbed his katana from under the coffee table. 

Of course, he wouldn’t put it past Todd to forget his keys, or god forbid he lost it. 

Todd or not, it didn’t stop Damian from clutching the hilt of his katana and hiding it behind his back for a surprise attack. 

If it was one of his family members, they could dodge his attack. If not, how unlucky of the intruder to have stumbled onto the manor’s property. 

The bell rang once more just as he reached the door to crack it open. 

He met with the sight of an admittedly pretty girl looking about his age, with raven pigtails, bright blue eyes that put his emerald ones to shame, and an innocent face that looked like she wouldn’t harm a fly.

His brows furrowed regarding the girl in front of him with suspicion. She could be a delusional fangirl. But he knew better than to underestimate the enemy. 

He tightened his grip on the hilt of his katana, ever so ready to strike if she were to make any sudden moves. 

“Who are you? How did you get past the gates?” He demanded, his voice sharp with wariness. He knew the gates were closed at all times. 

He supposed she could’ve climbed over the gates, eying her short and tiny figure. Despite his deduction, he couldn’t shake off his skepticism. The girl was getting more suspicious by the minute. 

A blinding smile fell across her face, and he stared. 

Her smile was bright like some sunshine child, and he couldn’t have predicted the words that fell out of her mouth next. “I’m here to rob you!” 

Damian swears he could see sparkles emitting from her glimmering eyes. That didn’t stop him from wanting to scoff at the pathetic attempt to rob the manor. What kind of an amateur announces a robbery? 

He eyed her with a contemplating gaze, intrigued against his will. The girl didn’t look to be struggling with money or in debt. 

He kept his expression blank, interested in how this interaction would play out. “Are you even qualified?” 

An offended look replaced her sunny smile, and she glared at him. 

He could’ve sworn he heard faint laughter coming from her purse. 

“That doesn’t matter. Just, can I rob you?” the girl huffed out, looking impatient like she had somewhere to be and made the sporadic decision of committing the worst robbery attempt of the century. 

Had she forgotten what city she was in? That was possible. She did have a French accent. 

“Miss, this is Gotham,” he drawled, letting his katana hang on the spot behind the door with minimal effort. If the girl turned out to be a threat, his katana would still be easy to access. 

She merely raised a brow in response, unimpressed. “And?”

“You don’t just ask for permission to rob someone. Do you see the Joker asking people politely if he could respectfully hold them hostage?” Damian asked dryly. 

“Well, Mr. Riddler asks riddles. Scarecrow rhetorically asks people if they want to test out his new fear toxin gas. My question could as well be rhetorical,” the girl countered, looking at him like he was the crazy one. 

He rolled his eyes. “Tt. Didn’t seem like it.” 

“Can we make this quick? I have somewhere to be,” she said, looking annoyed. 

She pushed past him, and he reacted, the katana appearing in his hand in seconds and on her neck. 

What caught him off guard was she had punched him. Hard. In the solar plexus. He grunted, his katana clattering to the ground. 

For someone so small, she packed quite a punch. 

His hand twitched toward his katana as the girl disappeared into the manor. He should be slitting her throat for that, but he found the situation mildly amusing. 

She reappeared a second later, hauling a medium-sized potted succulent. 

“Of all things in the manor, you decided to rob a plant?” Damian asked in disbelief, wondering why he even cared. 

Why did he intend to let the girl walk free after robbing the manor? Even if the robbery in question was something insignificant like a plant.

Was this how Father felt every time Catwomen stole? Why did it have to be a genetics thing? Damian could already hear his siblings’ teasings. They could never find out about this. 

“There’s nothing wrong with plants!” she protested, holding the plant close to her chest for emphasis. 

Damian should phone the GCPD. But all logic seemed to have flown out the window because instead, he said, “I will let you go just this once out of pity so you can get the taste of having successfully robbed someone. With your non-existent thieving skills, it is unlikely that you would be let off as easily the next time, let alone be successful in the operation.” 

“Oh, thank you, kind sir. I’ll be taking my leave now,” the girl grumbled, albeit sarcastic. 

He was coming up with a last-minute dignified plan to get her name and number without losing face when she shoved a piece of cardstock in his hands. 

It was a business card for the fashion designer Drake was obsessed with, MDC. Except the pseudonym was struck out, with Marinette Dupain-Cheng replacing it on top instead, and her number was underneath where her email was. 

He looked up to see the girl— Marinette, already gone. 

She was fascinating, to say. 

Hadn’t his family always pushed him to make more friends other than Jon?

Damian would have to conduct a thorough background check to see if Marinette would be worth befriending. 

As he pondered the possibility, he couldn’t help but wonder if their possible friendship could evolve into something more. 

[maribat-media]

Maribat Media Poll Sunday #2

Wait... it's the 25th of February? Where did these first 2 months go?

[maribat-media]

This seems like a wondrous event! An anon sent this toward the Media Page to check out. It is very well written and thought out. The page is more than glad to share this out before the event to celebrate Maribat Month!

The age old debate... Angst or Fluff

The enjoyers of both will certainly appreciate this event. The Bugbats will have plenty of content to consume.

Maribat Media Minimites check out below the line for an important message about this... (Did we ever give name the followers of this page? Minimite is a spin on Bat-Mite and you followers as mini media members)

Hello Maribat Media Minimites!

Here's a mini challenge for those that like a little extra something to do in these reblog sessions: Either comment or reply to the og post from this event planner (in this case, the Official Timari Server) with which team you look forward to seeing win. If you want to see both teams do well or support both, you can specify that too!

Remember the key to these reblog mini challenges are to spread love while getting the events out there! Support the creators you want to see more of!

Bonus Mini Challenge (for those who are brave): Tag at least one person in your reblog as well as doing the above mini challenge. Try to get them to join in (but do not try to force them as this event seems to be based in positivity and this page also will not stand for negativity in the sharing)

Good luck Minimites and Bugbats!

Welcome to the Timari Servers first Live Event

Shutterbug Station

There are two teams, Angst v. Fluff, and only you all can decide who shall be the true victor.

On each day a prompt will be revealed that corresponds with either Angst or Fluff depending on the day. Your goal is to create something that fulfills the prompt!

Trauma Train Tuesdays are dedicated to Angst prompts while Fluff Freight Fridays are for Fluff with some bonus prompts sprinkled in!

We’re aware full calendars can be daunting and too much for people so this gives people a chance at a break while also keeping them on their feet when the day arrives for their prompt to be revealed and gives them time to complete their prompts.

Choose which team you wish to support (you are allowed to join both), make content for them, and post! If you post it on the day their prompt is revealed, you’ll get an additional 5 points.

Guidelines:

• You do not have to sign up to join

• To be counted, all works must be submitted with links in the provided form X

• You do not need to be in the server to participate! Just tag correctly, add fics to the ao3 collection, and be sure to submit the link in the form for it to be counted

• While we are a Timari Server and would love more Timari content, we are aware of the constraints of that and absolutely support other pairing submissions

• Any creative works are accepted

• Label your works correctly

• Follow the prompts, but each person is given 10 free cards (10 things can be submitted that do not use the prompts)

• You can join at any time!

Rules, Guidelines, and Scoring can be found here (X)

Ao3 Collection can be found here (X)

Live Tracker can be found here (X)

Submission Form can be found here (X)

Server Link can be found here (X)

Tags:

Ao3 : #Shutterbug Station 2024  #MSS2024

Tumblr :  #MSS2024 #Shutterbug Station 2024

Insta :  #ShutterbugStation2024

(M for Maribat)

@official-timari-server for reblogging!

Contact us with any questions, comments, or concerns!

[maribat-menagerie]

The Birds & The Bees: Menagerie Beehive 2025!

Welcome everyone to the first ever Birds & Bees week for the MLB x DC crossover fandom run by yours truly!

(Click the image to see it clearer)

The Birds are a predominant part of the fandom, and we all know that the Cat and Bug are too. However, there is a special little group that has been gaining attention lately and we would like to give it a proper spotlight!

The whole goal of the week is to create for Chloe, Zoe, or Karen Beecher (most will know as Bumblebee)! They are our main buzz.

Creators are free to go ahead and submit pieces early if they would like. This can also be used after the event as well.

Feel free to do any ship, even if they are not part of our main buzz. Try to keep one of the themed characters as a follicle point in the piece though! (It is a bee focused event after all.)

Please use the tags listed on Tumblr and any Ao3 pieces can be submitted to both Maribat Birds & Bees and Maribat Birds & Bees 2025! Tag the Menagerie as well to get your pieces reblogged!

If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to reply to this, throw it in the ask box, or ask on our discord!

Without further ado,

The week is set up with a Prompt/Quote, Bird, and Ship Suggestion. These prompts will be laid out below the line!

As the famous Lightning McQueen would say, if he wasn't a car, "Float like a Butterfly, and Sting like a Bee!"

Happy Creating!

March 9th:

Sweet as Honey Robin Blood Bee (Chloe/Damian)

March 10th:

"That's going to sting." Peafowl Red Wasp (Tim/Zoe)

March 11th:

Hanahaki/Flowers Raven Archer Bee (Artemis/Chloe)

March 12th:

Beauty is in the eye of the Beeholder Rooster Bumblebee*

March 13th:

Love Pollen Canary Wonder Wasp (Cassie/Zoe)

March 14th:

"Ya like jazz?" Eagle Night Bee (Chloe/Dick)

March 15th:

The Birds and The Bees Jay Black Wasp (Zoe/Cass)

*This is not a ship suggestion but rather a character suggestion. (Yes, it was done to keep the number of Chloe & Zoe ships even)

[maribat-staturdays]

Ao3 Ship Tracking: February 15, 2025

For Previous Stats, check below the lists!

Maribat Ships

Daminette = 2185

Jasonette = 887

Timari = 680

Dickinette = 366

Cassette = 105

Brucinette = 91

Konette = 48

Speed Buggie* = 26

Marave = 15

Marivy = 1

Adribat Ships

Adrijon = 103

Alley Cat* = 31

AdriDami = 30

Timdrien = 24

NightChat = 8

Mirabat Ships (Other Miraculous x DC)

Coffee Bee = 22

Red Wasp = 8

Blood Bee = 7

Night Bee = 6

Changes:

Dickinette increased 12 since Feb 1st

Daminette increased 10 since Feb 1st

Jasonette, Timari increased 5 since Feb 1st

Alley Cat, Night Bee increased 2

Speed Buggie, Marave, Coffee Bee increased 1 since Feb 1st

Chloe/Tim renamed to Coffee Bee

Key:

Speed Buggie = Wally/Marinette Alley Cat = Adrien/Jason "Bee" = Chloe Ships Coffee Bee = Chloe/Tim Blood Bee = Chloe/Damian Night Bee = Chloe/Dick "Wasp" = Zoe Ships Red Wasp = Tim/Zoe

Admin Notes:

Our parent blog has released 'The Birds & The Bees' week which gives a spotlight to Chloe, Zoe, and Karen Beecher. It runs from March 9th-15th. This is a perfect event to get the Mirabat ship numbers up!

Here is the google sheet set up to allow fandom goers to see the progress as it updates every 1st and 3rd Saturday of each month.

~ Maribat Staturdays: Ao3 Ship Tracking ~

~ Previous Week: February 1st ~

January 5th's Ao3 Stats

[maribatserver]

Maribat March 2024

We're halfway through February, which means that Maribat March is almost here! In the interest of giving you time to create as much as possible, we now present this year's calendar of prompts!

Shout out to @newdog14 for designing this year's calendar, and to @izanae and @nottesilhouette for helping her brainstorm prompts to use! And of course, thank you to everyone who submitted to Valentine's Villains to help choose three of our prompts.

Since reading a prompt list off an image is no one's idea of fun, you can read our full list of prompts is available to read under the cut, as well as our posting guidelines, which ensure that we can find your submissions and promote them! Happy creating to everyone! We can’t wait to see what you come up with!

For Tumblr Posts:

If you’re posting on tumblr, make sure to add @maribatserver and tag your work with #Maribat March 2024 so that we see it, and we’ll reblog your post here. Also make sure that you include “For Maribat March Day #: [Prompt]” for the readers. We also ask that if you’re posting a longer fic, you add a readmore cut, again for the ease of readers or other folks on the blog.

If you’re posting something NSFW, make sure that all your content is hidden under a readmore, and that it is both properly rated and tagged. If it’s not, we won’t be able to reblog it.

For Ao3 Posts:

If you’re publishing on Ao3, we have an Ao3 collection, just like last year. To be added to it, make sure to select “Maribat March (Maribat_March)” when you select the collection you want to add your fic to. For the ease of readers, make sure to include “For Maribat March Day #: [Prompt]” in your summary.

If you’re posting something NSFW, make sure that it’s rated as such, and has all of the relevant tags and warnings. If it doesn’t your work won’t be approved to the collection.

Prompt List:

Origin Story

Signal

Butterfly

Siren

Bad Luck

Anarchist

Joke

Killer

Gamble

Lies

Fear

Dare

Epic Fail

Scheme

Money

Robbery

Green

Intelligent

Sick Day

Queen

Lover

Fem Fatale

Chaos

Insanity

Tea Time

Headline

Storm

Shots Fired

Nemesis

Showdown

Get Away

[starwarsmum]

Day 15 of Maribat March is Baby Names! Taking me back to Not a Fan of Surprises

@maribatserver

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60011551/chapters/163781575

Marinette lay with her feet kicked up on Damian's lap, her hand resting on her swollen belly. Damian rubbed one of her feet gently, relishing the little sighs he elicited from her. After a couple more minutes she continued her train of thought. 

“What about…Thomas? After my papa and your grandfather?” She mused, head lolling back. She was seven months pregnant now and seemed to be constantly tired so Damian tried to help her relax whenever he could. 

“It's a wonderful name, my love,” he said, running his hands further up her calves to relieve more tension. “I know you have always been partial to the name Emma, for a girl as well.”

“Hmm, I'm not sure anymore,” she said, lifting her head to look at him. “I always had someone else in mind when I toyed with the idea of Emma, Louis and Hugo.”

“Then perhaps…Amara? I think it is quite a pretty name.”

“Amara…” Marinette murmured, lips curling upwards in a soft smile. “I love it! Okay, so Amara for a girl and Thomas for a boy. And for the surname-”

“Dupain-Cheng,” Damian said without hesitation. She looked over at him, smiling, and he quirked an eyebrow. “Do you have an issue with that?”

“Not at all, mon cœur,” she said, sighing as he moved to her other leg and massaged that too. “I'm just a little surprised that you don't want to continue your father's name, all things considered.”

“Well, I was raised as an Al Ghul before I became a Wayne and it took me a long time to come to terms with what being a Wayne meant. I would like it if our child had the opportunity to live outside of the shadow of my surname for as long as possible. Besides, I have been considering changing my last name to match anyway.” 

“Seriously?” Marinette looked at him again, her eyes wide and full of astonishment. It made him chuckle as he nodded. “Wow, that's a pretty big change, Dami.” 

“As I said, it would hardly be the first time I have changed my surname. And this would be a far happier reason to do so.”

They sat in silence for a while, Damian wanting to give her time to process the news. Honestly, he had considered changing his name as soon as they married but hadn't wanted the media circus that followed their wedding to start blasting his new name everywhere. 

The communicator went off and Marinette groaned, starting to slide her feet to the floor, only to be tugged back gently.

“Marinette, you're not going out there,” Damian chastised gently, slipping out from under her. When she protested he gave her a flat look that he softened with a kiss. “I will return soon, feel free to order yourself something, or message me and I will bring something back when I am done. But please, rest, my love.” 

“Ugh, fine, but only because my back is actually killing me,” she said, pouting slightly. He pressed another kiss to her lips before slipping away to join his family on whatever the latest issue was. 

_ _ _

Marinette woke the next morning to find a message from Damian apologising and saying that he would be staying at the manor overnight. She squinted at it suspiciously and sighed before heaving herself out of bed. She shoved down the anxiety that tried to claw its way out of her belly as she threw on some comfortable clothes and grabbed her car keys. 

Even if she couldn't tell the difference between Damian's usual texts and this one, he had been fastidious in returning home every night ever since she had hit the third trimester. The fact that he hadn't returned was alarming and it was a struggle to keep to the speed limit as she made her way to the manor. The only thing that had prevented her from transforming and making her way there over the rooftops was the fact that Damian's brothers would have called her if it was anything life threatening, regardless of the time. And if Damian learned she had done it when he was okay, he would have fretted over her incessantly.

Still, it was a relief to pull up in front of the large building and she abandoned her car there, not bothering to check if she had successfully locked it before she all but sprinted up the steps. Alfred, as always, seemed to be expecting her and merely pointed up towards Damian's old room. She squeaked a thanks as she blew past him. 

As she approached it, Dick tried to intercept her by asking how she was doing. He stopped trying when she leveled a glare at him that usually stopped Damian in his tracks. She stormed into his old room, not pausing as Jason leapt away from the bed with his hands in the air.

“In my defence, I told them they should've just called you,” he said immediately. “It was Dick's idea to send the text.” 

“Little Wing!”

“What? I told you she would know. She always knows. And I ain't going down with this burning wreckage if I can help it.” 

“What. Happened.” Marinette's voice was taut and Dick visibly recoiled at the anger she was sure he could hear in it. 

“It's not as bad as whatever you're thinking,” he said hurriedly, hands held out in a placating gesture. He swallowed when she growled, and continued. “Really, he just, uh, got a little knife wound but it was deep enough to need stitches. But he kept trying to leave once he was sewn up so we had to- we sedated him to keep him in place. We only sent the text so you wouldn't worry, really.” 

“And how is that marvelous plan working out for you?” She demanded icily. “Never mind, get me a decent chair to sit in so I can be here when he wakes up. Idiots.”

_ _ _

When Damian woke, he felt foggy. There was a dull, stinging sensation in his side and he could hear someone muttering nearby. The last thing he really remembered was arguing with Tim about how he would be getting home- 

Flinching awake fully, he winced as he sat up and realised he was in his bedroom at the manor. Whoever was muttering was out of sight, most likely just outside the room as the door was ajar. Now that he was paying attention he noticed the much more prevalent noise of his wife snoring in the armchair next to the bed.

He frowned and started to stand, planning to move her to the bed instead but she woke then, her eyes moving straight to him. She gave him a disapproving look and leaned forward to make sure he stayed put. But the sound of movement brought the person lurking outside into the room before they could talk. 

“Lil D, you're awake!” Dick looked cheerful but sounded guilty. Damian didn't need the nettled look his wife was giving the older man to hazard a guess as to why he was waking up at the manor rather than home. “How's that stab wound?” 

“Tt, it's fine, Richard,” he said with a scowl. “Am I allowed to return home now?” 

“Dames, we just wanted to make sure-” 

“And in doing so my heavily pregnant wife has been sleeping in an armchair,” Damian cut in, frowning in disappointment. “I'm sure you had your reasons, Richard, but now I would like to return home so that Marinette can rest properly.” 

“I mean, you're both already here-”

“I was not asking for permission,” he said firmly, moving to haul himself out of bed.

“Mon cœur, wait for a moment, please,” Marinette said at last, laying a hand on his arm. “Will you let Alfred check your injury before we leave? I'm not sure how well I would be able to get you care if something went wrong at home.” 

He grumbled but acquiesced quickly. Marinette was a force of nature when she wanted something and he was not ready to argue with her. And it was worth it for the smile she aimed his way.

[kawaii-queen-kaiju]

Intelligence

Maribat March - Prompt 18

~

Batman didn't have powers. A fact the Justice League knew. Despite the various injuries he walks off and ingenious plans he comes up with, it's still plausible he's human!

Then they met Ladybug. Introduced as his flesh and blood daughter, they started connecting the dots, no matter how much Batman didn't want them to. Yes, they were told that she uses magic jewelry, but her intelligence… the magic may give her the item, but Diana told them that the inhuman plan-making was not a part of the Miraculous magic. It's all Batman.

No one dared broach the subject, not until Ladybug's first alien invasion. They were drowning in goons and Ladybug called her Lucky Charm. She managed to take down the entire army with a rubber duck. No one could deny it any longer. Batman had super intelligence and Ladybug inherited it! It was the only explanation!

But then, why did they laugh in Hal's face when he brought it up?

[liquid-luck-00]

Red Binding 2

Maribat March Day 2: Signals

@maribat-calendar-events @maribatserver

First *** Next

~~~~~~~~~~

He hated this!

He hated the fact that he woke up, by being dumped into a burning liquid. Hated that he was wrapped and bound so he had to claw himself out. Hated how the water forced itself into his lungs as he tried to break the waters surface.

Why does this all keep happening to him?

He hasn’t seen or even heard Plagg since the cemetery. And now he was coughing up acid green liquid, as every inch of him burned.

Someone charged at him and he attacked on instinct. He was able to take the knife from his attacker, and he stabbed them. He made sure that they couldn’t get back up, but he didn’t kill them. No they were alive, severely wounded, but alive.

Behind you, duck.

He did as he was told and a second assailant flew over him. He never saw them, but trusted Plagg’s words. Once he did have eyes on them, he quickly defeated them.

Step right. Turn.

Again he trusted Plagg’s instructions and a pair of people emerged this time. They continued to fight, Plagg’s warnings and signals aiding him. He wasn’t perfect, as the kick to his ribs, and the blade that dug into his arm, proved, but he was good enough to stay standing.

He fought for what felt like hours, bodies strewn all over the floor, but he hadn’t taken a life. The knife in his hand started to slip, as it did he flicked it back firmly in his palm.

"We must work on your inability to kill, but overall." A woman, the same voice he heard before, stepped out of the shadows. "You have potential."

Jason watched her. She didn’t approach further, she didn’t look like she would attack him, she stood there waiting.

Lazarus. Plagg's normal drawl was replaced with a hissing growl was terrifying it nearly scared him enough that he would have flinched, but he faced the woman. She is an Al Ghul.

"Al Ghul." He whispered, his voice hoarse from coughing up the water, and maybe even from the beating he took from Joker. The woman smiled, an evil glint in her dark brown eyes.

"Now how do you know that name?" She waited for him to answer, but he wasn’t about to tell her. "No matter follow me."The momentary astonishment gone, replaced by nothing.

The woman turned on her heels and started to walk away, a small motion with her hand the only indication she wanted him to follow her. But she’s given him no reason to trust her so he just stared at her not moving an inch. Plagg’s tone still rang in his head, although he’s begging him to say something, he staying quiet. He wishes that Plagg would say some thing, any thing. To give hima signal of whether he could trust this woman, but now he’s quiet. The woman turned around having not heard him follow, quick even steps walked up to him.

"I promise you, you will not die tonight. They have already let you die once, but I was there to help you." Her voice and words were sweet, but they didn't sit well with him.

"That doesn’t mean you won’t kill me." His temper was beginning to flair, his words pointed at her. Jason looked up at her, staring right at her gripping the knife, challenging her. But she did something unexpected, she laughed.

"You are more interesting than I originally thought. You will do well to serve as a shadow."

"Why did you bring me here? Why go through all this trouble? What is this place?" It pissed him off, like she could know what will happen and he can't do anything about it. The woman slightly crouched forward to look at him straight in the eye.

"You are with the league of shadows, I will make you into a shadow that will rival even the Batman himself. I can make it so that no one can hurt you ever again." The woman’s voice was sweet,luring him into a sense of safety, Plagg’s warning still echoed in his mind getting softer, as she placed a light hand on his shoulder. "I can make it so no one can ever abandon you again."

He wants to believe her, her words make total sense, except they don’t.

He was never abandoned, at least not by those he cared enough to let into his life. Bruce didn’t abandon him, he was the one who took him off of the streets. Alfred never abandoned him, in fact when Jason arrived at the manor he made sure that Jason was welcomed. Dick never abandon him either, Dick accepted Jason not only has his little brother, but evenas Robin. They didn’t abandon him, he ran away, he abandoned them. He ran away, and he died, and now this giant separation makes him feel guilty. He knows he survived Joker, Plagg made sure he survived the bomb, after that. But after the bomb, before the coffin he has no memory of anything.

Yet this woman claims she had a hand in it.

"Even if I were to believe you." He spoke up looking past her, to where he knows the exit, to where he can run free himself. "How did I survive all that?" He tried to stall, to make a plan.

He knows it’s a longshot, but it’s one he’s willing to take right now.

The woman sighed and stood back up. "It was a gamble, one that did pay off, it was the waters of the Lazarus pit that were able to heal you, I’m sure you were close to death. The waters making it appear so, that way no one would question the funeral. Yet you were still alive, still healing, and all we had to do was wait."

"So what if the Joker beat up another kid and you would’ve taken them?"

"This is neither the time nor place to discuss this." She grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt collar and started dragging him out of the cave. He dug in his heels, but she was stronger than she looked. "To answer your question, no, you were the target."

He stopped fighting in that moment.

Why me why go after me? Was it for the money, are they after Bruce? No Robin, they went after me as Robin. So they are after Batman?

You need to ask the right questions, kitten. Plagg then decided to start talking once again. If you are where I think you are, you have to be ready to fight like your life depends on it.

But…

No buts. Plagg’s voice absolute in his mind. Learn what you can, and use that to make your escape.

"This will be your room." The woman opened the door, and let him inside. The room is small with a bed tucked into the corner, a dresser was next to it with a single lamp on top of it. "Tomorrow you will meet your teachers, they are the ones responsible for your training, but it will be your own prerogative to stay alive."

The woman promptly closed the door behind her and left on silent steps.

Jason wanted so badly to fall asleep, but question just kept swimming in his mind.

"Plagg, I’m scared." He was barely able to whisper, as tears started to burn his eyes. He’s not sure if it’s because he was just uprooted from the only place he knew, the fact of his death finally catching up to him, or the fact that he knows everyone who cared for him thinks he’s dead.

You have every right to be scared kitten, I get it, this place can kill you if you show emotions, if you show any weaknesses. Plagg floated in front of him, his paws resting on the tip of his nose. This place might not have been ideal, but it might be possible to get you to the order from here.

"Order? Like the one from the story?"

The same one kitten. If there is ever any chance that I can get you there, I'll take it, you just need to follow my signals.

Jason climbed into the bed, sleep already overtaking him. "Plagg, promise me you’ll never leave me alone, that you will help me."

You are my kitten. I'll be here for you.

"I like to know that you’re with me Plagg, I trust you." Jason mumbled, his eyes were already closed and sleep was quickly taking over him.

Plagg curled up next to the boy, every fiber of his being telling him he was doing the right thing. That this child, no his chosen, will live. He will make it through this hellhole and will escape.

"Not even the Supreme themselves can take me away from you." He promised as he watched his kritten fall fitfully into sleep.

Next

~~~~~~~~~~

Permanent Taglist: @jennifer-rose123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @joydone07 @mizzy-pop @starling218 @crystalqueertea

[intotherabithole]

Sketched this for the prompt headline during maribat March, but only finished it last week.

My fav rare pair, Luka x Tim