Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Marinette Dupain-Cheng first took the miraculous and consequently signed her soul over to the gods—or Tikki, or the guardian, or the box, whatever way you can look at it—she was more than comfortable with it. Sure, there was that gap in time where she wanted nothing more than to throw it all away, but then she got over it, and she got comfortable in the suit.

Comfort, however, does not equate to safety. 

Especially when you’re one of ‘France’s Main Protectors’ and just now learning how not only survive within the confines of the mask, but thrive in the very space that she was leading. The duty was not hers because she was destined to do it, she was just the first one Master Fu saw that he thought was good enough.

Or maybe she just smiled at him at the right time.

Either way, growing within herself and exceeding expectations didn’t account for her being able to handle anyone else’s faults when in the line of fire; they still annoyed her, when her team got stuff wrong. She is their leader. She pushed through anyway, and taught them again, and again, and again how to do things right until it finally worked out.

This duty, this leadership—it came with a perk.

Master Fu offered Marinette Dupain-Cheng the mantle of the Guardian of the Miraculous when she was fourteen after a brutal two years of mastering the Ladybug powers. She was all but a century younger than the previous one when he died, and a soft-handed baker by birth.

This power was never meant for her, but when Fu held it out to her on a silver platter and with a tight-lipped smile, that faux justice-like glint in his eyes that meant that Marinette should say yes, not because it was fate—which is what the old master always tried to tell her—but because it was the right thing to do, so naturally, Marinette had to.

She had to.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng never did like playing the hero.

The Eiffel Tower was tall and rose up several floors, it was the staple bit of his speech—“If you don’t take this honor, your city and the very trophy you pride yourself on will collapse into the ground.”—but it was also made up of all the things her parents had wanted and the promises that Wang Fu made. 

If Marinette could choose, she wouldn’t live there.

She considered the speech barely effective, but she still considered it anyway. Being guardian meant more than the words that Master Fu couldn’t sum up.

The higher up you go, the clearer you think, or at least that’s what Marinette likes to believe—that’s why she’s always resting somewhere at the top of the Eiffel, sitting flat against the cool metal, feet swinging hundreds of feel above the air; why it’s her go-to place when she isn’t feeling well.

Marinette went through all of the records of previous guardians and masters, and all of Su-Han’s scribbled notes.

There was no dust, despite him having been dead well over fifty years. No damage, despite the ease in which he was taken whole. Declarations for peace and war calculations were slid between the pages of a journal, spells and facts about the miraculous gods were there alongside butchered Latin phrases and old Mandarin sub-text he made a slogan out of.

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum.

If You Want Peace, Prepare for War.

Marinette didn’t quite know what all of this meant, only knew that a lot of these things—the need for peace, the slowly degrading handwriting—is the reason that Fu was in front of her now, saying the same old spiel that Master Su-Han probably once said to him, replacing Temple with Tower , and Order with Family .

Tikki, that looming mauve shadow over her shoulder, the whispered voice in her ear leaned in close then—Marinette could feel her presence—and said, in that painfully quiet voice, “Weak guardians degrade after a while… Fu’s already fading.” Marinette hummed in reply, looking over at the patiently waiting master, thinking. “You would last so much longer.”

She was born a helper.

Sometimes your life will explode in a pink flash, burn like clingy black-purple magic and stretch red and fall into your hands—that will be the first time you’ll know you’re truly capable of change. Sometimes peace is won in wars, and sometimes it’s won without casualties. Marinette had trained for two years straight now when she didn’t have to. Marinette is only fourteen, and she would follow Fu and his advice if it killed her. And the alternative to war is tyranny.

Tyrants are already running rampant through Paris.

If not her, it would be Carapace.

Responsibility comes with a weird sense of a lacking freedom—tyranny can feel like freedom, though, if the tyrants play their cards right—but Fu didn’t tell Marinette that when she became Ladybug. Didn’t tell her that she’d be trading sanctity and freedom for late nights and pain.

Marinette would choose it all again, if she needed to.

That’s why when Fu holds out the miraculous box to her, offering her this once-in-a-lifetime chance, she says yes.

It’s the last week of summer before Sophomore year starts that the fight with Hawkmoth starts to take a more deadly turn. Outsiders, trained opponents, are starting to be turned alongside Lila Rossi every other week. One of the boys, a young one—about ten—was one of the most dangerous yet.

The inner anger of that child… it was unparalleled. 

It was terrifying.

At the next media conference, Ladybug stood up in front of the finest press that Paris has and looked out at the camera stoically. She knows when you’re dealing with threats like this, you do it delicately. If Mayura thought they knew exactly who she was, maybe she'd leave as fast as she came.

“Alongside Hawkmoth, we’ve identified our next target. One he’s working with.” Noise rings out from the crowd, but is silenced immediately when Ladybug raises a hand. “For Paris’ safety, we will not be naming them, but we are letting you all know that it’s more dangerous in Paris than ever. Stay safe. Flee if you must. If there is an Akuma, we urge you to stay inside and let us handle it. This teammate grants him much more power than he’d have alone.”

Paris didn’t need more casualties than it already had in the past years combined.

Ladybug was willing to pick a fight with the two of them anyway.

“This year is going to be rough.” Marinette says, falling down onto Nino’s bed. His parents were out of town, so he invited Marinette over to help babysit his little brother. “Are you ready for it?”

“Ready to drop out and become a full time DJ, yeah.”

Leaning up onto her elbows, she looks over at him, blue eyes blinking owlishly. “I thought you said you were going to try and graduate.”

Nino frowns at him. “What’s the point of graduating, if I’ll be graduating with all D’s or held back a year? Only to not need it for my job.”

“It’s a really big accomplishment.” She deadpans. “And you know it means a lot to your mom.”

“Kim might drop out too.”

Marinette throws her hands in the air, and promptly falls onto her back against the purple sheets. “That doesn’t make it okay! You know we’re going to be studying a lot more together this year as a group, to make sure both of you make it to senior year just fine.”

“I have to study ?” He pretends to gag. “Might as well start digging my grave now.”

“Even Kim reacted better than that.” Marinette rolls her eyes. “Besides, you know that means more time out of the house, and if you make it to the top of the class, you can put it on your resume and might get more gigs because of it… so it’s actually a win-win.”

Brown eyes glare at her, but Nino seems to sigh, giving up. “As long as you still let me sleep in gym.”

“And at lunch?”

“Of course at lunch!”

Marinette didn’t want to push Nino too hard, knowing that he was still recovering from the rough breakup with Alya—and knowing that a lack of motivation to do anything came alongside that. Alya was the one that would drag him out of the house the most, even if it was outside the scope of his comfort zone, he still got used to it.

Kim and her talked about it, and that’s one of the reasons that he so easily agreed to this studying plan: to help their best friend.

This year wouldn’t be about ex-best friends or grades, it wouldn’t even be about the akumas or Hawkmoth or the way that heroes can sometimes do more damage than good—it was about learning, about healing.

She wanted it to be about healing.

Marinette was scared of what’s actually happening at school, scared of the atmosphere she left behind—Lila and Alya, and all the believers and teachers that do nothing about it.

How is she supposed to grow in an environment that keeps her tied up and bound?

As Ladybug, she knew exactly what she could do with someone like Lila Rossi, but as Marinette? As the baker’s daughter? As the girl who can barely talk when she’s stressed, and pulls at her hair when she’s anxious? Who trips every time she walks up the stairs? 

Well, she didn’t really know what to do with all that nothing —she had no leverage, no intimidation. Nothing to fight back with besides her words.

And, as Marinette would tell you, sometimes words aren’t enough.

Marinette doesn’t understand what peace really means for Paris (how can she go back to life as ‘normal’ when all of this is over?) even if she fights for it. And god, does she fight for it. Tooth and nail, flesh and blood, her entire life, crushed under the palm of Hawkmoth.

She desperately wanted safety as a reality, but the deeper she went into getting it, the more stressed out she is.

Everyone is starting to notice—and maybe that’s why it was so easy to let Alya pull away, to let herself grow distant and fall back into the friendship that’s held a comfortable place in her heart.

Kim and Nino won’t push her, they’re not that kind of people.

They’ll just take care of her, and really, that’s what Marinette needs the most: someone to just understand how hurt she is and not try and figure out why before comforting her. She just needs someone to comfort her. And in these two boys that she’s known all of her life, she finds that.

Without prying, they just hug her and turn on her favorite video game, and prove that eventually everything will be okay.

And everything will be okay! 

She hopes so, anyway.

The first day of school comes in a rush.

She meets up with Kim and Nino at the bakery (less about them wanting to be together, she’s sure, and more about Nino getting his daily fix of caffeine—not the perfectly measured coffee Maman made, no, but one of the energy drinks in the fridge—and Kim getting free food).

Nino is comfortably dressed, a shirt under a sweatshirt and flannel, and though his style stayed in a way others would call ‘lazy’ she could definitely tell he put just a bit of effort in. It's cool to see him grow into his own style away from the one Alya pushed onto him, and she tells him just that.

His smile was worth the way she stumbled over her words.

“And what about me, Mari? Hmm?” Kim demands, eyebrows wiggling. “Do I not look good?”

“You look like Kim.” Marinette answers safely. The last thing she wants to do is feed into the doofus’ ego. “Which means yes, Dino, you look good.”

“Yes!” He fists bumps the air, and then jogs out the door, daring his two best friends to keep up.

Marinette helplessly looks over at Nino, who gives her the same look right back. “We’re not running after him, right?”

“Right.” Nino lets out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad we cleared that up, like dude! It’s the first day of school. Chill.”

“You’d think he’d get this excited when it ended.”

“I don’t how that idiot actually likes school.”

“Not everyone wishes they were a high school dropout.”

“Hey!”

Before their conversation could be properly finished in any capacity, Kim is bursting back through the door, grabbing onto each one of their wrists and pulling them after him, stumbling in step and calling for him to slow down.

Apparently, they are running after him this morning.

Marinette could scream.

The letters they sent out to Gotham Academy (they were tasked to send the last week of freshman year) had reached their destinations! They were full of student information, emails or numbers, and anything that the student thought another kid across the Atlantic would want to know when their teacher picked all of the pen-pals.

Apparently, the American teacher said it was very important to match personalities with some of the kids in her class.

Instead of regular attendance (thankfully) Madam Bustier decided that she’d take it by calling out their name and handing them the letter back, which would give them the contact of their pen-pal, who would be getting the exact same thing in less than six hours when their own school day started.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng!” She calls, handing out a rather thick envelope. Just as Marinette goes to take it, ready to go pick her seat next to Nino—since Kim likes to sit in the middle row, instead of the back, and that lets Alix sit next to him too—Madam Bustier pulls it away. “This is a very special student. I would quite like if you kept the information about them to yourself. I would hate for their parents to sue.”

“Oh Marinette! That’s so cool!” Rose, who’s sitting in the front row this year, calls out, a squeal in her voice. “A lot of politicians and influential people in Gotham send their kids to the Academy! Maybe you got Damian Wayne! He’s basically a prince in Gotham!”

“Unfortunately, Mister Wayne didn’t sign up to be a pen-pal.” Madam Bustier explains. “But-”

“I know the Wayne family.” Lila immediately pipes up. 

Marinette takes this as her cue to take the envelope from her teacher and go take a seat. There are so many more things that she wants to do than stand there only a few feet away while Lila talks herself up for no good reason.

She doesn’t care who she knows!

It’s probably a lie anyway.

Rose’s light voice carries on alongside Lila’s antagonistic one, but once Nino quietly slips her one of his earbuds, Marinette has no problem tuning it out. She’s lost enough due to Lila.

Her sanity won’t be next.

“Who’d'ya get?” Kim instantly turns up to face them, wiggling his envelope between Nino and his phone to get him to pay attention. With a sigh, he does. “I got some chick named Lyta! She seems really cool. Her fun fact was that she’s a god—I really like her sense of humor, which you know is important.”

“And what’d you put for yours?”

“Probably the same thing…” Nino mutters.

Kim rolls his eyes, turning to look up right at Marinette—grey to blue. “I told her that my favorite sport is swimming, and I can give a lot of advice about it.”

“Oh, ho, mister,” She replies teasingly, leaning down to poke his forehead. “Are you taking a serious approach to this?”

“You made me promise to take school seriously!”

“We started this last year, Kim.” Nino points out, eyebrows raised. “And as much as you think you should be able to—”

“Because it’d be so cool!”

“—you can’t tell the future. So, you definitely care about this. Why are you acting like that’s embarrassing?” He throws his hands up, turning to their third. “Dudette, is that embarrassing?”

Marinette giggles. “Only a little bit. What if, Lyta, you said? Is like the American version of him.”

“Oh god .” Nino replies at the same time that Kim says, “I hope!”

Before they can talk more about it, Kim gets distracted by Alix, who excitedly starts talking about how awesome the chick she got seems. Nino can’t do much in class without getting overwhelmed, so he often does work for one class in the class he has after, and homework for his last class in the morning the next day.

It was an odd system but it worked well, so she wasn’t going to start pressing him on details for his pen-pal until lunch.

Time to see who the kid she’ll be forced to interact with for the upcoming school year, and probably the next two after that, will be. God, is she supposed to be nervous? What if she got someone really cool and couldn’t relate to them? What if she got someone really odd and couldn’t relate to them?

What if they couldn’t read her handwriting?

“Dude.” Nino says, poking her in the arm. “Open it.”

“What if-”

“Whoever it is lives in America.” He deadpans. “Be as weird and as open as you want. Literally nothing can go wrong because of it. But for the love of god,” A pause and big drink of his purple Monster. “You’re practically vibrating in your seat. Calm down.”

Marinette nods. “Yeah, I will. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Exactly. Everything is okay.”

Alright, she hypes herself up. All I have to do is send them a message. How hard could it be!

        [email protected]

         Topic: Your Pen-Pal from France!

Hi!
My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, but you can call me Mari! I know you probably got my envelope, but just in case you were only told my name/email, here are some things about me!

1. I’m an aspiring fashion designer, and I hope to get an internship at Agreste & Co. one day!

2. I’m a baker, so if you ever want any really good recipes or ones that are easy to follow, I’m your girl!

3. I’m the student body president here at Francoise Dupont and have actually done a lot to change the school so far! I really hope to continue everything and work on perfecting this messed up system, but it could take a while.

In hopes that you write back, and in case you can’t think of anything to say, I do have a few questions. Firstly, how is the dress code at your school? Relaxed, I hope. Also, do you like the school system that you have in place? Is there anything really important about you you want me to know?
Also! I’m quite interested in actually getting to know you, but I want to make sure you’re okay with hearing about my actual personal information! If not, I’ll be as professional as you’re okay with!
(I hope my English was good - I’m still learning!)

-I hope this reaches you well,
Marinette D-C!

Marinette couldn’t tell why, but as she went to bed that night she couldn’t help but to feel like something was about to change. 

She just hoped it was for the better.

Chapter Text

The first time that Marinette Dupain-Cheng put on the Ladybug suit, the ringing voice in the back of her head she’d later identify as Tikki, the shadow over her shoulder—instead of the less favorable option: her going insane—said, “You will grow into the design eventually.” A pause. “You are not meant to be this bright.”

It reminded Marinette of when she’d make Manon a dress and leave a few inches for her to grow into. The first time she did that, her mom said she was tripping over the hem for a few months, before another growth spurt hit.

Radio talk show hosts and TV stars talked about Ladybug’s work ethic, how she fought until she dropped and then a little bit after too. About that time she jumped into a dinosaur’s open jaw and still came out on the winning side, how she looked Hawkmoth in the eyes and refused to flinch.

Ladybug didn’t flinch .

Later on, when Tikki let herself out in full form, a looming static presence on the edge of Marinette's brightly decorated room, she told her that she was a fine hero—and Master Fu said, “Yes. She is a fine replacement of the Ladybug you had last.”

But Marinette is the daughter of the a family of women whose first heir fled and the second hid into the ground, pledging herself to some secret alliance, she is a baker from a line of Dupain’s who think they’re standing at the top of the world, and the next Miraculous Guardian in a destitute and solitude line of hermits and dead men.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng  is nobody’s golden heir, she is nobody’s great hero, she is nobody’s replacement.

She is a fail safe.

Marinette, Kim and Nino all review their emails after school in the safety of the Le Chien’s flat.

Nino had very casual and not at all deep conversations with a girl named Emiko Queen—who he said was ‘chill but strange’—and Kim immediately devolved into deep back and forth conversations about gender equality differences in the United States versus France with Lyta.

And Marinette, furiously nervous, bites her lip, leg bouncing between the couch and the carpet as she opens the response she had gotten all but a half hour before.

I got this, she tells herself. It’s gonna be okay!

        [email protected]

         Topic: Your Pen-Pal from Gotham.

Hello,
My name is Damian Al Ghul. Call me Al Ghul. I did get your information beforehand, but I am told that I am supposed to appreciate the information that you have given me despite that. It is interesting that you both design and bake—most people stick to one thing.
You’re abnormal.

‘In hopes that you write back…’ This is an assignment. I am going to be writing back whether I would like to or not, however, I’m told to thank you for trying. And I am being instructed to answer your questions.

The dress code is strict. Blue or black dress pants, formal shorts or a shirt. A white undershirt, a collared shirt that is either grey or white. A blue or black tie. A blue or black Gotham Academy blazer. Your hair must be appropriate, and your make-up cannot be obvious.
I do not care about any of those things. It only annoys me when someone’s shoes squeak. It is agitating.

Secondly, I rather despise the school system I have—it is about remembering instead of learning. If a student knows something but cannot name it, describing it does not count and relearning is seen as a weakness. It is an absolutely unbearably pathetic way of raising generations upon the falsehood of knowledge.

A bright blue text interrupts the flow, saying ‘ he means that when you teach people this way they become stupid ’ followed by the same black bolded text as before. It makes Marinette smile a bit, clearly able to tell that Al Ghul is not a people-person, but sought help to write her back anyway.

Effort is always a good thing—right?

There is nothing important about me that you should know. I am being told to tell you three things in return, here they are: I am a vegetarian, I am fluent in French already, so this class is useless, and I like animals. Those are going to be good enough.
On the same note, it does not matter to me how personal you get, as I doubt I will get personal as well. I am able to handle your information without expressing my own, as your actions do not impact me and vice versa. I am told I’m supposed to strictly state that I am giving you permission to talk casually with me.
This is that.

(Your English is adequate. My French is perfect.)

-Best Regards,
D.W. Al Ghul

“My guy’s really formal, but it’s clear that he asked someone to help him talk to me in a kind way.” She informs, rather pleased with this. “His name is Al Ghul. But you especially Kim, I won’t be telling much of his info to. Apparently it’s really important to, so I’d like to keep it close to my chest. Respect, and all.”

“Sweet.” Nino replies simply.

Kim annoyingly waggles his eyebrows at her, not having a problem with that. “Do ya’ think you guys are gonna get along?”

“I think so.” Marinette shrugs. “Especially if he keeps putting the same amount of effort in. Like I said, he talks super formal, punctuation and all, but I think it’s a choice instead of, like, how he was taught to speak?”

“What do you mean?”

“Dude sounds like a buzzkill.”

These come from both of her best friends at the same time, but Marinette just rolls her eyes and brushes them off. “I think we’re actually going to be friends! Especially since Lila can’t get to him, y’know? It seems like, I dunno, a breath of fresh air, friendship-wise.”

“Good point.” Nodding, Kim tilts his head like a dog at her. “You know Lila can’t get to me or Nino, right? Not anymore.”

Hot bobbing with him, Nino shares the sentiment. “Neither can Alya.”

“I think… um,” Marinette sighs, letting herself actually think about how she wants to reply to this. “I think I do know that, yeah.” Blue eyes flick between brown and grey. “Thank you both.”

Kim grins again. “Always, Cupcake.”

“Shut up, Dino.” She huffs. “Let’s all just get back to our penpals, yeah?” A pause. “Say ‘yeah’ for me, Steak.”

“Yeah.” Nino deadpans.

“See,” The heroine motions out. “Open your emails.”

“Actually-” Kim waggles his phone infuriatingly close to Marinette’s face, making her shove him away and back onto the couch. “Rude. But anyway, me and Lyta already swapped numbers. You and Mr. Formal didn’t even get past the second email, and this loser decided to only stick to the email on purpose .”

“Fuck you.” Nino says simply. “It’s not a competition, you toddler.”

“It’s really not.” Marinette agrees. “You won’t really bond or learn if you rush into it all.”

“We’re talking about fem- in -ism!” The athlete defends, proudly announcing this alongside a voice crack. “So I beg to differ.”

Nino gives him a lazy glare. “Then beg.”

Scoffing at them both, knowing that Nino not only can hold his own but come at someone with so much bite that it’s almost startling, Marinette leans past the arm of her chair to grab her phone off of the table and Kim uses this to his advantage to poke her right in the armpit.

“Augh!”

It was instinct when her arm jerked and wacked him across the jaw but she probably would have retaliated anyways, so she makes the decision not to apologize. “You deserved that.” She tells him vehemently. Kim glares in return, but any rebuttal is cut off from an anxious sigh from Nino.

 Since neither one of them feels like getting on their third’s nerves for real, it falls silent.

        [email protected]

         Topic: Current Update on Me!

I am currently at my best friend Kim’s house with our other best friend, Nino! His dads are both really nice and good parents, I believe. I call them my uncles! I’m gonna spend the night, but Nino has to go home to watch his little brother soon.

Honestly, I was (and still a little bit) nervous about talking with you! In a classroom setting, I’m really not used to people liking me, or, that’s not fair. I just don’t think that they like talking to me anymore, that’s all. It’s not that they dislike me.
Do you have a lot of friends? At the very least I hope you’re not alone! It did sound like you had a friendly-ish person helping you out with your letters. 

My teacher [Mdm. Bustier] says it’s important to know a lot about each other by the end of the year—but if you’re not comfortable with that, we can make up some cover story. It would be fun!
Anyway, is your school day going well? Mine’s already over!

Bye, Al Ghul!
I hope you reply fast :)
-Marinette!

        [email protected]

         Topic: A Responding Update

I am currently in my French class.

Why do others find you unpleasant to talk to? Is it because you’re overly cheerful, or something more pressing? I have no choice but to talk to you, rather unfortunately, I am not able to form my own opinion on why I would stop.

I have one friend.
His name is Kent, he is the one who helped with the first email, yes. He says I should divulge more information about myself, but I am uncertain. We will decide at a later date after I do a background check on you.

My school day is tedious and boring.

-Best Regards,
D.W. Al Ghul.

Then, all but thirty seconds later, another email comes through that makes Marinette scoff while reading it, both amused and overly curious.

        [email protected]

         Topic: Hey!!! :D 

tell me more about ur family ! pls

-Dami :) 

Marinette smiles down at her phone and looks up to find Nino nodding along to his headphones, eyes closed, leaning back against the couch—and she decides that he looks tired enough not to bother him even the littlest bit—so she lifts her phone and wiggles it to get Kim’s attention.

Grey eyes flick up to her three times before settling, seeming to realize that yes, Kim, Marinette is trying to say something . 

She shows him her screen, their Snapchat messages, and his eyes light up in understanding. Seeing the moment that he joins the chat, she quickly fills him in on everything that’s going on through the email—how she thinks she will not only be friends with Al Ghul, but probably Kent too.

He wishes her luck and shares a screenshot of his texts with Lyta, a hilarious conversation where he and the American girl are trying to guess what the other looks like through really blurry and truly terrible pictures of the other. So far, they seem to fit well together.

Truly, Marinette likes that he’s gaining another friend.

Le Chien Kim is someone who likes to be surrounded by people, who likes being the center of attention and the life of the party. God knows that he’s good at it, and not only that, but he’s intelligent and funny too—so she knows that Lyta is going to get something out of the friendship as well.

Penpals hadn’t ever seemed like a more enticing thing than right now.

She emails back.

        [email protected]

         Topic: No

Not the way I can tell this isn’t Al Ghul just from the capitalization alone. And the ‘no’ is because I don’t know if he’s comfortable with that, not because I’m not willing to. I’ll tell the actual Al Ghul what he wants to know.
Are you Kent?

-Marinette :) 

        [email protected]

         Topic: I Apologize

He was.

-D.W. Al Ghul.

        [email protected]

         Topic: No Need!

Just so I know, Al Ghul, do you want to know more about my family? I’m an open book!
-Marinette!

P.S. Please tell Kent that I said hi!

        [email protected]

         Topic: Familial Questions

Ms. Dupain-Cheng,
It would be appreciated information.
-D.W. Al Ghul.

P.S. Kent said ‘hello’ back.

There is a story about a girl whose feet are rarely touching the ground when magic is buzzing between her ears, about a girl who had the worst nightmares about world ending pain, white hair beneath her fingers, and being slammed into pillars, or drowned, or burned, or hit, and hit, and hit—

Instead of waking anyone else up or traumatizing them with her stories, she quietly pads down to the kitchen her parents’ little bakery has and makes the most ridiculous tasting sweets.

Voice buzzing around her, shadows looming, twisting, anxious when her Guardian is. “Creation is a healing thing,” She said, mauve shadow-claw brushing warm tendrils down Marinette’s cheek. She’s long-past learned how not to flinch. “As my keeper, as guardian, you will always be drawn to it when destruction is around. You can fix it.”

“Even when it’s just in my head?” Marinette replies quietly.

“ Especially when it’s just in your head.” Tikki moves back away from her, now just a deep red mass in the corner next to the oven. “That’s where it’s most real.”

Marinette, even after the second week passed without a single one back, has yet to fail to send Al Ghul a good morning and good night email, despite the time zone difference.

This is a fact she’s proud of.

She doesn’t think it matters.

It’s three months into the school year when Marinette breaks down again for the first time (that year) because of Lila or Alya—this time, them both—and it’s because Lila released a rumor that she was sleeping with both Kim and Nino, and that’s why Nino broke up with Alya.

She doesn’t know how anyone believes it—there is literally no other two people that would be more unbelievable for that to happen with than the two people who call her their sister, but especially not at fifteen, and especially when both Alya and Rose (who Marinette had admittedly talked the most with on this subject the year before) that Marinette doesn’t want to do that with anyone until she’s a lot older, and in a well established relationship.

Because of the horror stories her older cousin Bridgette told her, Marinette became afraid of intimacy and relationships for a while. Actually, she’s still a bit afraid even now. She thinks this is why she gets so scared and anxious when she’s talking to someone she has a crush on.

People look at Marinette in the halls like she’s an akuma.

Not like she’s a normal girl.

Becoming hyper aware of herself and everything around her, mind switching into a panicked version of her ‘Ladybug Mode’ as she runs out of the classroom after an open-legged joke from Ivan, she just about yells at Kim “Don’t touch me!” when he goes to follow her, and finds herself fifteen minutes later, spacing back in as a cold, bone-chilling wind blows in her face.

She’s dizzy for only a moment before righting herself, taking in her surroundings.

On the edge of a building, a familiar one in the blind-spot of all cameras around Paris, only a few blocks from the Louvre—sitting right there, in the suit. Even her deepest unconscious knows that she’s safer as Ladybug than Marinette, and will probably always be.

Until now, she just didn’t realize that she’d ever use this to stop herself from panicking as a civilian. The suit is supposed to be a sacred weapon to use against evil.

Not a tool for an anxious teen to escape rumors.

“Are you alright, M’Lady?” Voice light-hearted, Chat Noir sits down next to her, legs crossing instead of swinging down, leaning back onto his arms, head tilted. “I’m pretty sure all of Paris saw you swinging over here as if you were running from something. But there’s no akuma around, so…?”

“It’s personal.” Ladybug replies. She’s gotten a bit closer to Chat Noir over the years. Even if he’s still flirtatious and funny, and sometimes too kind or goofy, he’s grown up. He’s understood and listened to her boundaries. Out of the suit, she refuses to make him important. 

In it, he’s her everything. Her other half. Her best friend. The whole world rests on their shoulders, theirs , not hers . He refuses to let her do it alone, through all of her panic and unbearable moments.

That isn’t something that could ever be overlooked.

“Just don’t say anyone’s name. Or your own, of course.” He reminds her, giving her permission to share. They always need it, which is something they decided the previous summer. Even if it’s not strictly said, they need it. “You know I will always listen.”

“You know how we’re either in the same grade, or one up or down?” They’ve talked enough about the woes of homework to put that together, but given Chat’s description of curriculum, Ladybug thinks he might already be in Junior year, given he has to take a lot of exams and is super stressed about it.

And the biggest thing for her grade this year has been the penpal assignment, which is a new part of French curriculum, and he hasn’t mentioned it once.

“‘Course.” Chat wiggles his eyebrows at her. “I remember everything about you.”

“One of my classmates started a rumor that I’m sleeping around a lot. It’s not the first time, and I doubt it will be the last, but I’m older now and for some reason, it feels worse.” Telling him this, Ladybug pulls her legs up to her chest. “I think it’s because it’s the first time people actually believe it.”

He tilts his head at her, green eyes flicking between her own. She struggles to make eye contact. “Have you fought back against the rumors, or told anyone they’re not true?”

“Well… no, but with the grip that this girl, er, person —” She corrects. “—has on the class, I don’t think it would do anything. My real friends, and the ones that it’s about, know that it’s not true, but that’s not really enough. People are looking at me, Chat. They look at me like I’m disgusting.”

Chat Noir thinks for a moment. “Do you want to know what I would do?”

“Hmm?” Ladybug looks over at him with a teary-eyed pout. He’s grinning. “I know that look. What is it, Chaton? I swear, if it’s something bad-”

“Hey! I can have good ideas too, LB.” He defends, hands raising. “If you can’t get over the rumors, get with them. Y’know, the whole ‘if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em’ thing.”

She blinks at him. “Explain.”

“Maybe flirt or be overly loud and terribly flustered, but really obviously fake, and affectionate with who the rumors are about! Make it so ridiculous, it looks like that’s what you’ve been doing all along, and that’s what the rumor is.” His hands move alongside his words, rushing, as if he doesn’t say it fast enough, he won’t get to say it at all. “So no, Bug’s Civilian Identity isn’t sleeping around! She’s merely making kissy faces at people during school!”

“And like a game of telephone, it got twisted.”

He snaps his fingers at her. “Exactly. Don’t try to be the bigger person or get behind the rumors, get with them and make whoever started them spaz out. I would be furious if I got a whole bunch of people to believe something, and then someone going ‘oh, what a lovely kiss!’ and blowing a raspberry tears it apart.”

Ladybug furiously pulls out her yo-yo, and pulls out the pad and pen she stored in there. It’s come in handy a lot more than she expected it to.

With determination, she looks Chat Noir in the eyes. “Give me your worst.”

“Oh, M’Lady.” He slyly grins. “I thought you’d never ask.”

         [email protected]

         Topic: Question!

Are you good at strategic things?
-Marinette!

P.S. If not, that’s okay!

        [email protected]

         Topic: Answer.

Why?
-D.W. Al Ghul.

        [email protected]

         Topic: Question!

Because I’m trying to double check that I’m doing the right thing when it comes to something sensitive, but everyone I’m getting advice from is either two people like Kim, or actually Nino. And that’s not a very good pool to choose my decision from!
So are you?

-Marinette!

        [email protected]

         Topic: Answer.

I would consider myself the best in regards to strategic plans.
You are fourteen, what could you use something like this for? Is it about your homework? You have not mentioned any such projects to me recently.

-D.W. Al Ghul.

        [email protected]

         Topic: Question!

Oh yay! Knowing you, I thought you’d be good at it!

Here’s the situation:
A girl is making up a rumor about me either making out with my friends, or even (and it made me cringe to type this, so you know) having sex with them. It’s really throwing me for a loop and I hate it, it really makes me feel disgusting, because that’s not me at all.
A friend of mine, C, told me to stop trying to get past the rumor or prove it’s false, but to get under it and mock it. Like really play it up in goofy and ridiculous ways, like giving obviously fake and terrible one liners, like “Did you fall from heaven? Because you’re an angel!” instead of not interacting with Kim or Nino even more.
Do you think that’s a good course of action? Or should I do something less eccentric? (Did I use that word right?)

-Marinette!

        [email protected]

         Topic: Answer

Your use of ‘eccentric’ was appropriate, yes.

I do think that that course of action could work, it would make the situation seem comical and faux from the beginning, instead of shying away like you have something to hide—when you obviously do not. I would further involve your friends, Le Chien and Lahiffe into the plans.
It would be more believable if they flirted with each other as well, perhaps, and twist the rumor from you and onto them. That would most likely make you feel less disgusting.

What is the name of the student doing this to you?

-D.W. Al Ghul.

        [email protected]

         Topic: Question!

Thank you!
I’ll do that then, and ask Kim and Nino if they’re okay with that (if they’re not, because who would want that rumor about them, I’m just letting you know right now that I’m not gonna do it!). Who it is isn’t important, the rumor is going through the whole school :/
Thank you again for the help, I really appreciate it!

-Marinette!

P.S. I really hope nothing like this has ever/will ever happen to you, Al Ghul! You don’t deserve that.

        [email protected]

         Topic: Your Peer

I would still like to know who it is.
-D.W. Al Ghul.

P.S. I am being told to inform you that you do not deserve that either.

        [email protected]

         Topic: The Girl

It’s not important, but maybe we can talk about her when we’re closer! :)

-Marinette!

        [email protected]

         Topic: The Girl

If you think I do not know that you are saying that to never talk about her again, think again. That is very obviously a cop-out answer, as you are well aware I do not plan to get close to you.
And certainly not for such useless information.

-D.W. Al Ghul.

        [email protected]

         Topic: The Girl

It’s your decision! You definitely don’t have to get close to me, I don’t ever want to ask someone to be friends when they don’t want to, otherwise, they’re not really your friend, are they? But my answer still stands, Al Ghul, I’m definitely not going to tell you unless we get closer.
This is information that’s really close to me, and affects me a lot. I don’t tell strangers about it.

-Marinette!

        [email protected]

         Topic: Becoming Close.

This is troublesome. I will decide at a later date.

-D.W. Al Ghul.

        [email protected]

         Topic: Becoming Close

Okay! Thank you for your help!
I’ll email you later!!!

-Marinette!

Marinette sighs and lays back against her lounge chair, hair falling all around her. So far, every effort that she’s made to actually bond with Al Ghul has fallen through. Once, he almost agreed to let her call him by his first name, and then quickly back tracked in the next email ‘out of professional curtesy’.

Just because she knows that his name is Damian, doesn’t mean that she’ll call him it. Besides, that could get confusing—Lila’s knows a Damian from Gotham (and talks about him often) too, so during class it would be easier to call him Al Ghul anyway.

She’s a good friend, she thinks.

She doesn’t know what it is about Al Ghul that doesn’t make him believe that.

None of that matters, because she’ll keep trying. She has until Senior Year to get under his skin—the year that the entire class is supposed to go to Gotham to meet their penpal and get a proper tour of America with them, going to every major stop over three weeks and seven plane rides.

They have time to become friends.

        [email protected]

         Topic: Getting Closer

Ms. Dupain-Cheng,
I have properly discussed the pros and cons, as well as the benefits of becoming closer with you—even if my reasoning is not to strictly get close to you, but because your life is interesting and I want to know more—and have come to the decision that yes, we are going to get closer.
It is comfortable for me to allow us to go from strangers to acquaintances. I am being told to ask you more about yourself. Here are the most notable things for me to remember, so that you do not uselessly repeat information:
1. Your parents, Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain, are bakers who own Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie.
2. You are an inspiring fashion designer, and hope to work under Gabriel Agreste.
3. You are a baker, for your parents, but you also seem to enjoy it despite that.
3. Your friends are Kim Le Chien and Nino Lahiffe, and they have very contradictory personalities. You’re childhood friends with them.
4. You’re an optimist, and because of that despite being unqualified, you’re the Student Body President at your school.

I am assuming you will respond accordingly.

-Best Regards,
D.W. Al Ghul.

         [email protected]

         Topic: Getting Closer

I’m really happy to hear that, Al Ghul! I appreciate your willingness to get closer with me, even if it’s not 100% for me, you know.
But also, I’m just double checking that you’re actually okay with this. Getting closer to me isn’t just about paying attention to me and what I like—it’s about me learning about you as well! I’ve noticed you’re a pretty closed off/reserved person, and I just want to know that you considered this part.
I, myself, am very willing to get to know you. You seem very ‘interesting’ as well!

-Marinette!

        [email protected]

         Topic: Getting Closer

I have weighed out that aspect of getting closer, yes, I’m not daft.

-D.W. Al Ghul.

         [email protected]

         Topic: Getting Closer

I know you’re not! You seem very intelligent, and I mean that genuinely!

On the note of deeper topics, what would you like to talk about the most? I don’t really think I have anything I don’t want to discuss, really!

-Marinette!

        [email protected]

         Topic: Getting Closer

Not at this moment. Perhaps at a later date, I am currently reoccupied and have to go.
I am being told to tell you goodbye. Goodbye.

-D.W. Al Ghul.

         [email protected]

         Topic: Getting Closer

Goodbye!!

-Marinette!

Not only does the advice from Chat and Al Ghul work, it works phenomenally well.

Marinette, Kim and Nino go from whores, to sleazy, to cheesy and weird, to the class clowns all within the span of a week. They think by the time this semester ends, everyone will have forgotten there was a time that Le Chien Kim winked across the room, and Nino Lahiffe winked right back.

Marinette won’t. She has it on video.

Which Nino hates .

Ivan now is able to joke alongside Kim (who doesn’t tell him he thinks the other boy is disgusting, not because he doesn’t, but because Marinette asked him not to start anything), Alya is no longer able to say that Nino cheated on her and not get laughed at with “Oh? Was it Kim, or Marinette?” and Lila has to pretend to agree with everyone who thinks this is funny.

She is more than grateful for this.

“Focus.” Tikki instructs. No longer a shadow hanging over her, but a ball of energy hovering next to her head. She likes that she doesn’t have to be constricted to a solid form around Marinette—likes that she isn’t scared of the god. “Reach out again. This time, think about destruction. Your powers will kick in.”

There’s sweat lining Marinette’s forehead. They’ve been at it for hours.

“I’ve never been able to use my powers out of the suit.” She protests, as if she wasn’t a true holder for a reason. Master Fu was wrong, it is not because she was born for it.

It’s because she wasn’t, and chose it anyway.

The god hums, and it sends static out into the air. “You have to learn.”

The energy has never felt more tangible than it does today—and Tikki said that she didn’t tell her for a reason, that she wasn’t old enough, even if she was ready. Apparently, there’s risks being so young and being a miraculous wielder—hero—guardian.

Imagine that .

But despite that, Marinette loves this. She loves it.

Everything about the creation energy wraps around her, turns, twists and envelopes her whole, and she loves it. It warps her, vines grow over her arms, grass all around her. Her rugs would turn into dirt until she learned to go out to an isolated park somewhere in North Europe with Kaaliki and practice there.

The energy speaks to her.

Outside the suit is different—she’s less sensitive to the energy, she has to focus, to drain herself again and again to even sense the magic. Tikki says she’ll get better with age, and practice.

Marinette can’t wait until she starts being able to believe her.

Marinette and Al Ghul begin to trade details about the cons of living in both Gotham and Paris, more so the consequences of living around heroes and villains, than their own city attractions. His favorite hero is one called Nightwing, and another called Batman, and hers, of course, is Chat Noir.

She tells him less about the damage and the most about the design of the suits—she tells him that nothing there is like it is at Gotham, that nobody dies or really gets hurt. This is a lie. She tells him there’s not any destruction, that it just makes people more uneasy about letting their bad feelings about.

Damian Al Ghul has horror stories he says are beyond her comprehension.

But Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Paris’ protector, Ladybug—who has the mauve shadow looming over her and the world resting on her fourteen year old shoulders—knows things that would scar him, superhero or not. Nobody fixes like her and can still view the world as unbroken.

Now, she’s getting better at feeling it in the air, the tearing, the unbalance.

They haven’t gotten to fully talking about Lila yet, but Al Ghul knows her name, along with Chloe, and Adrien—who they talk about the most. She was able to ask if anything Adrien was telling her to do was either a good idea, or even made sense, and receive in reply, simply, not to listen to him anymore.

She was grateful that an outsider was able to give his opinion.

Kim was typically a lot more helpful when it came to Adrien than Nino was—Nino had all the insight into Adrien’s toxic relationship with his father, so he didn’t really like conversations revolving around him, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to be helpful, chalking it up to neglect rather than a bad character trait. But he also didn’t really know what to do, either.

As mature as she feels like as Ladybug, sometimes it’s still painful to remember they’re just kids. Kim, Nino—her—they’re all just kids. Adrien too.

They’re just trying to do their best.

         [email protected]

         Topic: School Email and Summer

Question, Damian,
My teacher (Mdm. Bustier) told us that Gotham Academy gets locked out of their emails over the summer, and you won’t be able to email us back unless we’re already communicating in a different way, and I know you typically think ahead about things like this, so I wanted to know where you stood?
Are you planning to have no contact over the summer? 

-Marinette!

        [email protected]

         Topic: School Email and Summer

Oh! I wanted to send another one real quick and make sure to tell you that that’s okay, I know you’re a really private person and I wouldn’t expect you to give me any other kind of contact! Even my teacher made sure to tell me that you’re private before giving me your email address!
I’m sorry if it came out otherwise! I support any decision you make!

        [email protected]

         Topic: School Email and Summer

Before you brought it up, I was under the assumption the decision would be up to you, as you have previously directed the closeness of our relationship. This is a school assignment, and I find it unnecessary to continue it outside the school months. Why would you prefer something differently?

I was not under the assumption that you were trying to force me to decide, or send you any of my information. There is no need to worry about such things. Now that I understand more how Rossi speaks to you, I understand why you jump to such conclusions.
Off topic, I would like to note to you that our conversations recently, due to becoming ‘closer,’ are not being shared with Kent. He noticed, and is making me tell you, citing it as ‘important’. Were you assuming that everything was being shared with him?

-Damian W. Al Ghul.

         [email protected]

         Topic: School Email and Summer

I was assuming that, yes, thank you for letting me know! I do prefer my more private things aren’t shared, but I know he’s your confidant, so I won’t ask you to restrict anything!

And I would prefer something differently because we’re friends, I think. I would miss talking to you, over the summer. But you’re right, this is just a school assignment, and I don’t want to add any pressure onto more than normal. You should be relaxed, and I know school isn’t relaxing for you.
How about we plan to resume conversations a week or two before Junior year starts (I will never get used to American school systems) to catch up, but give you the summer off. Do you agree?

-Marinette!

        [email protected]

        Topic: School Email and Summer
We are not friends. We are acquaintances.

That does sound like an acceptable course of action, however, you are missing how we would communicate before school starts up again next year. 

-Damian W. Al Ghul.

Marinette sighs, and lays back against her bed.

The rest of her Sophomore year went completely smooth, and she handled any major disturbances from Lila the same way—ridiculously—and let the smaller ones slide, either telling her best friends about it happening, or asking Al Ghul if she should ignore it.

Every time, he said no. Every time, she did anyway.

She had honestly thought that they had gotten to a place where he felt comfortable enough with her. Al Ghul told her that she was allowed to call him Damian, and she did, he told her about how much he likes being an artist, and prefers painting—he even promised to send her photos of a finished series based on Greek Mythology.

Though, he said that could take years to finish. 

She doesn’t mind, they have a few years anyway.

This entire time, Marinette didn’t realize that he still didn’t think of her as his friend, at least, not enough of one to share the summer with. A part of her, knowing Damian, knew not to expect too much. On the other hand, she’s given enough of herself to Damian Al Ghul to expect something in reply.

Rereading his last email, she starts replying with a heavy feeling she often associated with hope.

         [email protected]

         Topic: School Email and Summer

You’re my friend, I’m your acquaintance. We can have different conversations for different things, Al Ghul, that doesn’t make me wrong, or you wrong. People can be different things at the same time!

I can give you my number, and let you be the first one to reach out?

-Marinette!

        [email protected]

         Topic: School Email and Summer

I regret informing you that you can talk to me as casually as you’d like—but I will concede. You are just my acquaintance.

That will be acceptable. I will contact you at a reasonable time.

-Damian W. Al Ghul.

Turning over in her bed, Marinette screams into her pillow.

See, Damian Al Ghul is not the kind of boy that expresses what he likes, even if he can list in explicit detail why he doesn’t like something. Damian Al Ghul gives good practical advice and is great at strategies, but is terrible when it comes to personal advice or communication. 

Damian Al Ghul is not kind. But he is good.

This is something that she firmly believes. 

Marinette knows that if this wasn’t a school assignment, their communication outside of school months wouldn’t even be a question. He’s told her that he’s not dedicated to school work, that he has a good grade in most classes because he doesn’t have to try at it—and that it is something he doesn’t need to strictly put his all into, because his half-assed looks like the equivalent of someone going all-out.

She knows that it's a miracle he tolerates her, let alone considers him her acquaintance. She knows that he still calls Kent his acquaintance, and that he’s his best friend—but because of that, she doesn’t know what he considers her. But like she said—they have a few years to figure it out.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng is not patient, but she is stubborn.

“You look happy.” Kim says, eyeing Marinette where she’s bouncing out of the school doors. Nino’s dredging along behind her, all too unhappy about being forced to show up the past two days, even though he’s stayed up late and there’s nothing ‘important’ actually showing up. “And he doesn’t.”

“I am happy!”

“And I’m not…”

Marinette wraps her arm around Kim’s, and puts her other around Nino’s neck, pulling them both close. “I think this summer’s gonna be a record-setter, and I think next year’s gonna be even better.”

“Is it because of Al Ghul?” He asks, grinning. “I know I definitely feel better about school with Lyta being able to help me. I love you two, and Alix, but I think it’s different than having outside support, y’know? Something to validify everything you two say.”

“Yeah,” Nino refutes. “Me and Queen aren’t really that close.”

“Me and Al Ghul are getting there!” Marinette says. This is… true, probably. She has no idea! But she wants it to be true, so she’s going to treat it like it is. “And I think so, yeah. He’s outside this whole bad classroom dynamic, and I know you both try and stay neutral, but there’s no real neutral. That helps. He’s completely unbiased.”

Nino raises an eyebrow. “Won’t he be biased towards you?”

“I can’t actually tell if he likes me or not, but either way, he always speaks and acts completely unbiased. You remembered how I just decided to get closer with him?” She gets two nods in reply. “He’s actually really receptive. He lets me rant and I can actually tell with how he replies that he listens, and he tells me a few sparingly private things.”

“And you can talk to him about Lila!”

“Yeah! So, he tells me when I probably could have done something better, but also continually lets me know that I’m not in the wrong. It’s reassuring.”

Head tilted at her, hat slipping down just a bit, Nino looks over to Marinette. “If you ever need anyone in person to grab you by the shoulders, shake you, and say ‘dudette, you’re right’ lemme know.”

“Thanks, Steak,” Marinette brings him closer, smushing their cheeks together. “I-” Kim comes crashing down onto the other side of Nino, smushing him in the same manner, causing him to give out a little laugh, face starting to flush a little compared to his tired self. “Hi, Dino.”

“Hey, Cupcake, remember what we used to do when we were little?”

Nino immediately starts to struggle out of their grips. “No, dues, c’mon, I’m too tired for this—please don’t, oh—” Marinette grins, makes eye contact with Kim, and then they’re both blowing a raspberry on both of the DJ’s cheeks, for as long as they can without him jerking away. “—I hate you both so much.”

“Nah,” Kim says, letting their third fully pull away from them, fixing his hat with a glare shooting between him and Marinette. “You love us.”

“And we love you.” She chirps.

“Yeah…” Nino grumbles, pulling his hat down enough to hide the embarrassed flush on his ears. “I’m sure you do.”

The school year ends, and Marinette feels thankful for everything she’s been given this year.

A better, stronger, friendship with Kim and Nino, a new friendship with Damian Al Ghul, a stronger partnership with Chat Noir as Ladybug, stronger connection to the miraculous box as guardian, a better understanding of the energy of the ladybug miraculous and Tikki.

This year was so much better than last year. Last year was not about gaining anything, it was about loss.

She feels happy now, mostly. Kinda.

It’s enough.

Chapter Text

The random days that Master Fu came to check on Marinette after she accepted the miraculous box gradually became less and less; for the first month it was weekly visits, then for the next six it was once a month, until she turned fourteen last year and then Marinette only saw her old master whenever he seemed to remember that she existed.

That was about twice a year, and not enough time or feedback for the heroine to feel confident in her abilities as the guardian.

Eventually, Marinette took to pacing up and down her room, checking on the miraculous box in the false wall of her closet again, and again, and again. She scratched at the skin around her nails and wore down the heels of her slippers, and she thought of them as one in the same.

Kim and Nino both told her it was frustrating to watch, knowing that something was wrong with their best friend but not really knowing what. This is after Marinette pulled away from Alya and Nino broke up with her, after Lila took hold of the entire class—after they were isolated away. 

It was exhausting being ostracized, but they could somehow tell that school wasn’t what was bothering her.

Master Fu didn’t look at all of the things Su-Han left behind, even if he kept them until Marinette got her hands on it all, and he apparently didn’t want to either. She was left trying to put together the demise of an entire civilization of the Miraculous Keepers all on her own.

She takes the summer break during the summer between Sophomore and Junior year to explore the old temples strewn all across Europe, calling it an excuse to visit her Aunt Shu in China all while transforming into Ladybug and gathering as much intel from the ruins as possible.

 Marking off deaths, accidents, destroyed temples all added up until the very last one—until the journal ended. She buried many bones, letting Tikki bless them, without knowing if they were the enemy or some of her own.

There were pages missing in the book. Marinette likes to think Fu ripped them out.

Wang Fu always thought there was always something better to do with his time than heal. This was an ideal he passed on to the next guardian, and Marinette was scared of what she would pass on, too. In more than one way, this upset his ward, this child who he claimed was a great warrior, coming back to the battle.

The whispers Tikki digs up from the past Ladybugs left little to be desired: too young — weak — not even up against a real villain — how long has it been now — do you think she’s good enough — when she’s weak — and small — and weak — weak — weak . 

Marinette preferred the one voice that was saying chosen .

During the summer, Aunt Shu-Yin doesn’t mind at all the odd hours that Marinette goes missing, she, herself, disappears and comes back without explanations. The only thing she knows is that she’s training a girl named Fei Wu for her job, but doesn’t even know what her job is. Random times, they’re able to share a meal. At the very least, they text each other goodnight, a way of telling the other they’re alive.

Marinette would think more of it, if Nonna Gina wasn’t the same way.

And maybe if she was closer with her aunt, or if her aunt ever acted like she really cared about Marinette in the first place. This was just an easy way to explore her past, and Marinette wouldn’t give that up just because a few things weren’t the ‘right’ way.

It’s mid July, only two weeks into her trip, when a text comes through on her phone from an unknown number. She’s currently traveling through the ruins of the temple that was built on the spot in Tikki and Plagg first made contact at, somewhere in north-west Sweden, where Scandinavians and Vikings lived for centuries, worshiping them.

The spot Plagg first touched the Earth separated the land, forming the Gulf of Bothnia between Sweden and Finland. He didn’t know yet not to shield his true power from the world. This is how he was capable of killing the dinosaurs. She doesn’t like to think about the destruction he’d cause if he would actually try.

She keeps her partner updated at the end of every week, since he’s on patrol duty with Ryuko. When she texts him, even this far north, land that hasn’t been touched for decades, her things don’t malfunction. This is the upside of training to use her powers out of the suit—she’s now able to use her yo-yo even while retaining a civilian form.

So it’s no surprise that this text comes through, but it’s more surprising what it says.

Unknown Number
Is this an adequate time?

Honestly—she didn’t know what to do with this.

Maybe Ryuko, who also texted like this, had to text from some unknown number, or Chat did, or maybe even Hawkmoth found a way to use his miraculous technology to contact her. Simply because Marinette is in Ladybug Mode she’s failing to realize this could be a non-miraculous problem.

The world simply didn’t work that way.

Dupain-Cheng
?

Unknown Number
You instructed me to contact you at an appropriate time during the summer to ‘catch up’ as you put it. If this is a bad time or too early, it will be easy to wait to contact you again.

I am being advised to tell you, this is Damian W. Al Ghul, your American pen-pal.

Of course it’s him. That makes the most sense to civilian Marinette; but unluckily for Damian, she’s not always a civilian.

Pausing on top of a temple stone that’s as old as the pyramids—undiscovered for centuries because of the glamor over it, just like the miraculous and kwamis are glamoured—she stands there, looking down at her yo-yo, texting, Tikki reading over her shoulder.

How is she supposed to explain this story to Kim or Nino?

Dupain-Cheng
Oh! This time works for me, of course !
I honestly thought you’d only text me like early August or smthng, I’m really glad you texted !

Do you want an update on me now ?

Damian AG!
Why are you in China?

If she didn’t know him and his personality so well, she would really think it was weird that he pinged her phone. And she’s also grateful that she left her phone at Aunt Shu-Yin’s house today as well.

Honestly, there were few things she wanted in this world other than to explain to Damian Al Ghul or Kim and Nino—who shared a tracking app with her—why she was in an untouched part of Sweden or Norway.

That didn’t sound fun at all.

Dupain-Cheng
I'm visiting my aunt! Her name’s Shu-Yin and she’s really cool :D

I'm going back home in a week, I think I’ll miss it here, but I’m happy to get to spend a lot of time w my mom’s side of the family

How have you been, Damian ?

Damian AG!
I have been mentally stable and performing adequately on all my summer activities.

I’m assuming with your cherry nature, you are alright as well.

“Baby Bug?” Tikki calls, her shadow looming over an almost-broken archway. Her hollow eyes are draining down, staining the red color a dale blue. “I do not mean to make you mourn with me, but I found the grave of one of my oldest holders. His name was Leif, but we called him Gudrun .”

Marinette frowns and wipes some sweat off her forehead. She stayed still too long texting, and the head and exhaustion of exploration finally caught up to her. Any longer and she might start to process that her feet are aching too. “What was going on back then?”

“He used me when dragons were still around, even as rare and beautiful as they were, a woman got ahold of an egg and raised a dragon in order to burn down different villages. Leif bore my miraculous to take down the dragon, who’s soul essence became Longg. His partner was named Olia.”

The way Longg talks and attaches himself to the most peaceful holders, Marinette always did think that his story was one of tragedy.

This just confirms it.

“The boat that made his gravesite is only thirty feet away from the village ruins. There was a lake here, back then. He died in his late sixties, far older than I suspected he would after I was given back to the Guardians. Olia and him both had separate partners, but their children became spouses, and their descendants are most closely related to a family called the Drake’s. Longg tracks them.”

Marinette hums, and reaches over to run her fingers over Tikki’s shadow on one of the stones—goosebumps rising to her skin. “Was he, Leif, was Leif a good Bug?”

“One of my favorites.”

“I’m sorry that he’s gone then.” She turns back over to the arch, and walks through it, towards the area she knew Tikki called Thor Village —knowing there will be some remains to bless. Tikki shouldn’t ever have to ask her to help care for the remains of her past holders.

“It was expected.”

Blue eyes glance back at the kwami, who’s deep pool of ‘tears’ have stopped dragging the hollow of her eyes down, but remain there, around her eyes. “Clearly, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Is Olia buried here too?”

“Yes. But burned as a warrior, instead of sailing off as a leader. They are buried in the graveyard, along with their wife and beside Leif’s husband as well.” The deity follows close behind, moving behind Marinette in the sun like the heroine’s own shadow, pulling down on her heels, cooling the earth. “Many worship the growth of the bug, few care for the destruction of the cat.”

“ I care for the cat.” Marinette says—pouting. “Creation and destruction are supposed to go hand in hand, I don’t understand why people don’t get that.”

“Because destruction—” The deity’s voice reverberates around the ground, a deep grumble. “—is uncomfortable for humans to see. Just like death.”

The heroine hums in response. “It’s all part of a cycle.”

“The boy who you’re talking with… what is his name, again?”

Marinette fully pauses and crosses her arms, one hand gripping her yo-yo tight and the other holding her backpack close. A kwami asking for more information on someone is not a common or a good thing. “Why? I care about him, Tikki. I really do.”

“I am not going to do a thing to him.”

“Damian Al Ghul.” She says. “But I don’t know his middle name, only that his parents want it really hush-hush. Which is why I don’t tell Kim a lot about him, since he has a hard time processing what’s a secret and what’s not in normal conversation.”

Tikki rises up in front of her, the shadow blocking out the sun, making the area directly around Marinette drop ten degrees. She shivers. “His ancestor—he was one of Plagg’s.”

“He was! I mean,” Marinette coughs, clearing her throat. “He was?”

“Yes, but corrupt. It was during a time, in the middle east, where me and him were on different sides. Then Ra’s found something he thought was more powerful, not knowing I was the one who created it and discarded the ring back to my holder at the time like Plagg was trash. That was two centuries ago. The 1800’s.”

Marinette nods, relaxing her stance a bit. “Ah, so Damian won’t know about it.”

“No. It is a well kept secret, even among those who disregard us kwami’s.” Tikki hums, chin dipping down, one big, hollow eye nearing her holder’s two blue ones. “He will be compatible with your energy, mark my words. Him, more than anyone, even your Chat Noir now, are prepared to handle you as Ladybug.”

“His reign with the cat miraculous was that powerful that it could pass down through the bloodline?” She blanches. “Doesn’t that mean he won’t like me, since, what was his name? Ra’s? Since Ra’s was enemies with his Ladybug counterpart?”

Tikki shakes her head. “If anything, I am sure it will draw him to you more.”

The heroine’s nose wrinkles. “But I want him to be my friend regardless of the miraculous.”

“Don’t worry, my little one,” A cold whisper of a shadow touches Marinette’s cheek as Tikki goes to move past her. “He will only be drawn to your energy if he is drawn to your personality. It cannot happen over all this silly technology—it’s something that has to happen in person.”

She throws her hands up. “Then why warn me about it?”

“Because it will affect him, especially if he ever comes in contact with the cat miraculous or Plagg again. It will make him protective, clingy, until the connection defuses.” Tikki jumps over a rock formation and lands on a hill, sinking into the ground. “Now come, there are many to bless. Good warriors. Better people.”

“Alright, just let me reply.”

“If it is not Chat Noir, it is not important!”

“Okay!”

“Bug. I can tell who you’re contacting.”

“ Tikki ,” Marinette groans, leaning hard against a pillar. “Let me do normal teenage things like we talked about. Texting friends is normal teenage things—and Al Ghul is my friend!”

A sigh echoes around the ancient ruins. “If you insist.”

Dupain-Cheng
I’m doing really well !
There’s so much here to see, it makes me feel like I’m in a movie or something :D 

All my mom’s family normally come to Paris to visit - they saw it’s less crowded, but I just think they come for the free sweets lol

Damian AG!
Are you touring China?

Dupain-Cheng
Smthng like that !
What have you been up to?? Hopefully lots of summer fun - I always do enjoy summer and spring more than the winter
The cold makes me angsty :/

Damian AG!
I am fine with the cold.
What does ‘something like that’ mean?
I have had an adequate summer. It is fun, I suppose.

Dupain-Cheng
What does fun look like to you ?
And it means that I’m not getting a official tour but like, stuff my family likes
Aunt Shu is really helpful ! she travels a lot so she knows a lot of cool hidden places that not a lot of other people do ! there’s so much more than I thought there would be

Damian AG!
It means I am doing things I enjoy. Painting is one of them. Jon is over more often, which I am told is supposed to be fun as well, but he is rather annoying.
Do you not plan to spend your summer with Le Chien or Lahiffe? You seem like an extroverted person. Being alone with only your family during the summer months does not make sense for you.

Dupain-Cheng
Oh ! I am going back to France the last day of June to get all of August to get back to a school schedule !
I always hang out w Kim and Nino
Also, I’m glad you’re doing things you enjoy ! I know Gotham is dangerous, especially during the summer - so stay safe, alright, I don’t want to imagine a world w/o you

Damian AG!
Why?

Dupain-Cheng
Bc you’re my friend ! :D

Damian AG!
Hmm.
Alright, I will concede this once.
It must be getting late for you. I will contact you once you’re leaving China, as nothing about a tour interests me.

Damian AG!
I am being told to properly tell you to enjoy our days without contact and goodbye. So, goodbye, Dupain-Cheng.

Dupain-Cheng
Bye, Damian !

Marinette is sitting in a glamoured near whole square mile of forest near the spot that Mongolia, China and Russia meet—all around her is destruction and decay. A whole, a sand-field in the middle of a lush forest where Cataclysm was used and never healed right.

Her hands are in the sand, dug down as far as she could go without hurting her fingers.

She’s focusing on healing .

Pulse after pulse of the creation magic floods her veins, moving out across the ground and turning the sand into dirt, the ancient decay to new growth. Pink and white pasque flowers, tiger lilies and poppies bloom around her, pollen staining her clothes.

She really hopes that Aunt Shu-Yin doesn’t have seasonal allergies.

“Focus.” Tikki instructs. “Heal this area.”

The words distract Marinette more than her own thoughts ever would, and the magic she had been building up under her palms pops like a bubble. The heroine groans. “I’ve been working every single day since we finished in Norway, Tikki. I’m exhausted.”

“This is the last thing I will ask you to heal for a while, my little one.”

“That’s because I’m leaving tomorrow!” Marinette huffs, trying to wiggle her hands out of the muddy sand. “I can’t keep doing this without my mind wandering. I can focus my energy and think about random things at the same time, that’s why the magic didn’t crap out until after we started talking.”

The deity moves away from her position over her holder, to stand over a white pasque group, testing their clean energy no-doubt. “For someone so young, you are strong. Once more, Marinette. Then we will go back to the house.”

“Only one more?”

“If you heal it all in one, which I am assuming you are capable of doing, no?”

“Ugh!”

Kim and Nino, accompanied by one of Kim’s dads, Mr. Ature, meet Marinette at the airport when she gets back from China—Nino begrudgingly holding up a sign that reads ‘I’m here for the Clumsiest Girl I know’ and Kim excitedly filming it.

She truly regrets, in the moment—while flushing red from embarrassment and annoyance—asking them to pick her up. 

Marinette should have known better, when she and Nino are separated, Kim and his ideas are king. But honestly, her parents would have made a bigger fuss about it than just calling her clumsy, so with a sigh she accepts her fate and walks over to them with an eye roll.

Politely (and to make Kim jealous), Marinette greets Mr. Ature first with a hug, congratulating him on a recent promotion at work. He thanks her with a large grin and motions between her and his son. “ That is how you treat someone after not seeing them for a while, Kim.”

“Eh.” Kim shrugs without shame, and Nino tucks the board under one arm. “We face-timed every day, so it doesn’t feel like we were far away. Steak said so himself!”

“No, I didn’t.” Grumbling this, Nino turns to Marinette, tugging the back of his beanie down as he smiles. “Hey, Mari.”

“Hey, Nino.” She smiles back, then crosses her arms, grumpy. “Why did I have to hear from Luka, of all people, that Jagged Stone hired you to play at Le Grand Paris when he’s eating there instead of you? Hmm? Even Adrien was more forthcoming about this when I asked.”

“Because he’s embarrassed about it.” Kim explains, voice in a coo, at the same time Nino rebuts with, “Because it’s not set in stone.” A pause. “Obviously.”

Marinette glares. “Even being considered to play for Jagged is a big deal.”

“So?”

“Ugh!”

“What?”

Kim sighs, shaking his head. “You gotta have more zest for life, bro.”

“No, dude, ” He replies mockingly. “I don’t.”

“Alright, kids!” Mr. Ature chirps. “Help Mari with her bags! Yes, even you, Kimmy, and let's continue this argument in the ear.”

“Or not at all…”

“Look on the bright side,” Marinette hauls her backpack over her shoulder. “At least you’ll be distracted from your motion sickness.”

Nino lets out a groan and the heroine shares a grin with Kim. They have to catch up on being there and annoying one another before school starts up again, and she has to let them know the progress she seems to have made in actually being friends with Damian Al Ghul.

She even told him more about Alya and Lila.

Damian Wayne values a lot of things—honesty is one of them. Loyalty is another.

And though he can’t firmly describe which of these two things Jon Kent has more of, he has enough of both for Damian to value his close proximity. As Grayson would say, he is good. Apparently, he is only supposed to keep this certain type of person around.

There’s not enough of them.

Because he believes this, and because there are moments that Marinette Dupain-Cheng reminds him horribly of Jon, he’s comfortable conversing with her. Jon called it a miracle. He regrets ever having opened his mouth to the boy who’s not used to keeping secrets.

It was at family dinner two weeks after school had ended that year, late in the month. Father and Grayson had Clark Kent and Lois Lane there, Todd and Drake had Kon-El “Conner Kent” over, so naturally, all four of them forced Damian to entertain Jon as well.

There wasn’t anything overbearingly annoying about Jon anymore (though he did talk loud and often), it was just that Damian didn’t like being made to do anything.

“If you hate having to be around me, your bestie, just ‘cause Uncle Bruce said so,” Jon whines with a pout, leaning into Damian’s chair. Damian leans away, scowling. He wants to stab him again. “I can’t imagine how you treat DC knowing that a teacher is-”

“Shut it, Kent.”

But the damage was already done.

Grayson, Todd, Brown and Bernard Dowd were all leaning towards him, three pairs of blue eyes and big brown eyes all wide, Kon-El and Kyle both having a knowing smirk plastered across their face. He hates this—hates that they think they have any insight into his personal life when they don’t.

And they never will.

“DC?” Grayson asks, smiling, wide and genuine and infuriating. “Did you make a friend, Little D? That’s great!”

“Or the demon spawn has a crush.” Comments Drake.

Todd snorts. “Like the little brat could like anyone.”

“He likes me!” Jon boasts, as if it’s something to be proud of. Damian will be the first to admit that getting on his good side is both hard and respectful in the Wayne Manor.

He glares.

“They are neither of importance, nor any of your business. It is a school assignment and nothing more—we are not even acquaintances.” He pauses and sends a perfectly practiced nasty glare between Brown and Dowd. “If you push me for details, I will stab you.”

Brown, who is insufferable, smirks at him as if to say no you won’t at the same time her eyes say I can take it .

“Okay.”

“But if Jon knows about them, then they are important.” Grayson reasons.

Damian transfers his glare onto him, and adds more venom behind it. “No. We attend school together, it is illogical to think he wouldn’t know unimportant things about our shared education.” 

If they want to know so bad, they are detectives, and they could find out themself—if only Damian hadn’t taken the initiative to scrub all data on the school’s files about Dupain-Cheng. It works out, as his French teacher does mostly analog.

“They have a nickname.” Kyle points out, voice a purr. “It’s cute.”

“Initials.” He deadpans.

“But-”

“I am not discussing this further.”

Dowd and Grayson pout, and go to open their mouths in protest, but Jon pouts right back. “He said he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore…”

“He literally didn’t,” Drake sarcastically drawls, twirling a fork around his hands. He is, perhaps, Damian’s greatest competition out of the pathetic gaggle of people that Father and Grayson call ‘family’. He is his greatest competition as a Robin, simply because there is no living up to Grayson’s Robin. “But okay.”

This is what Damian knows about Dupain-Cheng:

Subject - Marinette Dupain-Cheng

• Age - 14 (Birthday is July 9th)
• Race / Ethnicity - mixed race, white and Asian / French, Chinese, Italian
• Height / Stature / Weight - 5’2 / Slim / 115 (slightly under average)
• Eye / Hair / Skin - Blue / Black (appears straight) / Pale
• Mental Illnesses - Undiagnosed (suspected persistent anxiety)
• Physical Illnesses - Asthmatic (requires an inhaler) / Affected by the cold
• Addictions - n/a

Family:

• Mother is Sabine Cheng (co-owner and entrepreneur of Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie) who was born ‘Xia Bing Cheng’
• Maternal grandparents are Mei and Yan Cheng (retired, ran a cafe in China that is passed onto an insignificant family friend, no connection to D-C)
• Older maternal aunt is Shu Yin Cheng
• Maternal cousins, born from Shu Yin, are Bridgette, and younger twins, Emmit and Adette Cheng
• Maternal great-grandfather is Wang Cheng
• Father is Tom Dupain(co-owner and entrepreneur of Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie)
• Paternal grandparents are Gina (traveler, she does not seem to be there often for D-C, though D-C does not mind) and Rolland Dupain (retired baker).

Acquaintances:

• Kim Le Chien (student at Francoise Dupont—childhood friend of D-C, hobby of taking photographs and uses his athletic prowess to relieve stress, anger is expressed immediately)
• Nino Lahiffe (student at Francoise Dupont—childhood friend of D-C, part-time job of being a DJ, plans to turn music into his career, uses music to relieve stress, hidden anger issues)
• “C” (long-term friend who wishes to remain anonymous)
• Mentions often: Luka Couffaine, Alix Kubdel and Max Kante
• Mentions briefly: Alya Cesaire, Lila Rossi and Chloe Bourgeois
• Adrien Agreste (student at Francoise Dupont—classmate of D-C, part-time model, no further aspirations, gives bad personal advice, pushy)

Facts/Notable Character Traits:

• aspiring fashion designer
• worker at Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie
• class body president at Francoise Dupont
• is kind to a fault, but seems to know immediately when someone (other than herself) is being used or harmed, to an alarming observational point

Unknown Factors:

• undisclosed side hobby that takes up her time, avoids it/talks carefully about it
• Shu Yin and Wang Cheng are in Mother’s files, but all information as to why are redacted (it is unknown if there is a connection to D-C) - (Shu Yin’s children are not mentioned)
• she is desensitized to it already when anyone mentions extreme acts of violence, terrorism, or ‘villains’ such as Joker—something is going on in France that is hidden from the media
• “C” and “T” are her companions

She is great at simultaneously oversharing and hiding things. There are too many unknown factors about the girl who lives across the sea at the same time he’s too suspicious to ignore them. He is not obsessed. He makes lists for everyone. Father’s and Grayson’s are similar. Jon’s is unique. Marinette Dupain-Cheng is confusing.

Damian’s not used to that.

Chapter Text

Damian thinks American school is pointless.

His mother provided him with enough education by the time he was ten to put every single teacher at Gotham Academy to shame. He doesn’t even need an American high school degree that’s genuine. Ra’s can fake one just as well as he can attend the, as he said, pointless school.

It was Father that made him still go—for the ‘normal teenage experience’ that he wanted him to have—ignoring that he is better educated than him and his other adoptive children combined. He got his first degree when he was seven years old. He has two masters.

Besides that, like Damian could ever be normal .

So far, at the beginning of junior year, only two good things have come from him staying at Gotham Prep, and then Gotham Academy: his trust and loyalty for Jon that has grown and built up over the years, and his days are not so boring—even if they are more tedious.

Then, suddenly, last year, something changed.

He was forced to interact with her . And he didn’t hate it as much as he thought he would (at least, he didn’t feel violent towards her—but that could be explained by being an ocean away). And he learned that someone other than Jon could stand him and his a-social personality.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

He does not know whether or not to count this as a good thing. It is a change. That is all.

School was still pointless. So, of course, Damian was going to protest against this with everything in him. “I didn’t understand why I must attend Gotham Academy, Father.”

His dad sighs. “You know why—your brothers and sister did it. Education is important.”

“I have an education.” Damian scowls. It’s like his father doesn’t listen to him. “Todd died before he could finish sophomore year, Drake dropped out the moment he turned eighteen. Cain attended her senior year online. You didn’t even entertain the possibility of me doing online school, despite my personality.”

“There’s nothing so wrong with your personality that you can’t attend school, Damian.”

He glares. “What would mean-”

“Damian.”

He quiets in a moment. That is a voice Damian cannot argue with—it is definitive. End of discussion. Stop asking questions. The voice that he is ordered around to and has to obey as Robin. The ultimatum to every discussion. To disobey is to destroy.

The likes of Damian Wayne cannot disobey. He is perfect. He is godly. Parents are not just parents, they are more; they own God.

Damian stays quiet.

There’s a saying that Damian Wayne knows that always has a way to remind him about the way that survivors have scars and the actual victims have graves. And that people like him have both.

At one point it made him wonder when he will be allowed to feel the pain he’s gone through without guilt or judgment, if when he came back his new lack of scars made him undeserving of healing. So he went and made more scars; on his wrists, ribs, thighs. Places he could hide and places he couldn’t.

Only Jon has seen them.

His father says nothing during training. Mother too.

He doesn’t know why people like to punish those that admit that they’re in pain. It seems like no one has the patience to handle someone who is just sad, who acts out because they’re scared. Nobody has the stomach for it anymore. Especially when they handle their sadness with katanas instead of therapists.

Damian is ashamed to say that he is sad, that he has been sad. He isn’t ashamed to say he should have those scars. Or a grave. He is his mother’s child, Ra’s Al Ghul’s grandchild. Of course he has scars, and a grave. Of course he is sad.

But he is not allowed to be sad.

He’s not ashamed to say he has not cried in a year. That he yells at himself when he’s alone, that he screams at himself in the helmet of his bike when he’s fed up at red lights. That he runs red lights on his motorcycle because he doesn’t have the safety of walls. 

That sometimes good things can hurt and he’s still struggling to understand that.

It’s a phenomenon that he is constantly telling others it’s okay to be a selfish prick sometimes—especially with their emotions, something that Jon is sure to tell him: it’s not selfish —all while constantly attempting to people-please in the only ways that he knows how.

They say forgiveness comes with time but to him forgiveness is just another way to say that something painful didn’t happen and he refuses to pretend like that again. Ra’s pretends. Mother pretends. 

He is determined not to be like them.

If he has to hold the weight of the world on his shoulders, they have to hold the weight of what they did to him in their hands. And if his trauma has to be dragged behind him on a chain everywhere he goes, holding him back, they have to be there to flinch at the sound of metal on flesh.

The good news is that he has survived knowing the worst kind of people, the bad news is that he is not a survivor; he has a grave—and nor is he a victim; he has those scars, you see. The bad news is that they were never something that he should have to say that he almost survived.

The worst part is the almost, the dying, the resurrection, the surviving again, and again, and again. And they wonder why he’s a killer. Why he’s bloodthirsty.

Why he does not dispute it when Todd or Drake calls him Demon .

His inherent trust issues press against his heart and it reminds him that he was born strong, and turned weak. By his mother. Ra’s Al Ghul. The league. By his father. Time and time again, he has been torn apart and put back together in ways that suit others. 

That benefits them. 

Never has it been to help him.

He has a weak voice but the strongest pair of lungs. He uses it to hurt others. He tells himself this is the way that it’s supposed to be.  It’s hard to stand up for himself in a way that matters but he can scream the longest of words.

He has a tendency not to text back, so he’s had to tell his family (if he can call them that) how absolutely not sorry he is about the missed calls. He feels guilty about it. There’s nothing to be guilty about. Not the unanswered texts. Or the messages. The days he’d go missing. The absent hours.

Damian swears that he’d love himself if he could.

But he doesn’t see what Jon sees.

He is still hurting about all of this, about dying, and he is still lying about it. There’s no good way to say that—no healthy way to admit it. Eventually he will run out of this angry silence of his like he has run out of soft places to bruise.

Why does nobody really talk about how bones can bruise until it’s too late?

Damian Wayne has stumbled around the truth and fell asleep under the pretext of being safe and doesn’t need to wonder why he wakes back up countless times through the night, tossing and turning, kicking all his blankets down to his feet.

When he lived with Mother, he slept on a mat in the corner of a training room. His mother called him one, but it’s his dad that treats him like a prince. There’s something raw about abuse when you have to describe it without saying it; it’s comparable to broken glass.

Damian Wayne does not think himself as capable of being abused.

Is this what counts as strength? Withstanding? Bearing. Staying quiet. Trying to gain control. Not crying. Killing. Not admitting. Bleeding. Bruised. Always Withstanding. He doesn’t know if that’s what counts, withstanding, but thinks that maybe it does.

It shouldn’t. 

He knows that.

Damian treats his body like a temple—one he can bruise and brush—and never once has it complained. Never once has he truly broken himself, or given himself more scar tissue than he can withstand. It’s a delicate balance, but he walks that thin line without tripping. 

He is someone that he desperately loved to hate. 

His memories about his death, about his (lack of) abuse, are far too sharp and lonely. They know how to bite and there’s not a single wall thick enough to keep them out. And he always, always remembers. Damian doesn’t need the reminder that he is not a survivor.

Were my screams not loud enough? Did they not hear when I cried, or when I stopped? Was my blood not red enough? Did they not hear when I pleaded? Did they not know this isn’t okay? Did they not realize having to bring me back because they killed me is not normal?

Damian Wayne doesn’t believe in God; there was nobody then he could pray to. But he believes in himself. He was always there, able to help himself. So Damian Wayne is not a broken boy; he is God.

Once he was so scared to break down, terrified of the power Mother still had over him, worried about the way his grandfather would react, the lives he would take. He broke down anyway.

It didn’t matter.

Grayson likes to say that self love is important but to Damian it always has come second place to what could have been. When he starts to feel healthy, one of them tells him that they love him and then he starts to doubt his worth all over again.

It’s a toxic cycle.

Loving himself feels like he is attempting to make a ritual shrine out of his trauma and call it a temple instead. Because he keeps remembering the kind of things that leave snapping memories in its wake, and that makes the ritual of hate grow.

His mind has no pity on him—it thinks he deserves it.

Some people choose to remember and recognize the version of others that held the most power over them, no matter how long it’s been or how much others have changed. His family will never see him as something other than violent. 

This is okay—there are more people in the world than his family.

The moment that Damian went back to school—despite him not wanting to be there—he went back to emailing Dupain-Cheng, and ignored the way that Jon stared at him, head tilted, eyes wide as if he was saying: you know this is a step back .

But if Damian truly stops to think about what someone like Marinette Dupain-Cheng will do to change the plans he has for his future he’ll panic.

She is not changing anything.

         [email protected]

         Topic: First Week of School

Hello, Dupain-Cheng.
Know you and your disposition, you are adjusting well to your junior year of school. Is there anything abnormal about the school year so far?

-Damian W. Al Ghul.

         [email protected]

          Topic: First Week of School

Hey, Damian!
Something actually is weird! You know the girl Chloe Bourgeois I told you about? Well she decided to start the year off with her version of an apology (by basically telling me to brush it under the bridge, which is actually nice for her) and sitting next to me!
Kim and Nino have actually been strangely supportive of us becoming friends, and Nino being friends with Chloe is giving Adrien more stability. It’s like I’m starting a friend group from the bottom up, and having Chloe as a friend comes with unexpected benefits.
She sticks up to Lila for me more than anyone else. It’s like she’s not afraid of anything.

How do you feel about this? Do you think it’s a good idea to keep being friends with her?
I personally feel like she’s grown up a little bit, at least enough to get over why she’s been mean for so long (something to do with her mom, I think), but at the same time it’s going to hurt more if she goes back to being a bully like before. You know what I mean?

-Marinette!

         [email protected]

          Topic: First Week of School

I do think it could end poorly, however, knowing how you’ve described Bourgeois’ stubborn character I would be surprised to find that she goes back to how she was before. It would most likely feel like failure, and she doesn’t seem the type to admit to failure.
The only sure way to know for sure is to do it. I know you are silly and often, too hyper or optimistic, but you survived Bourgeois’ torment for years—what is there to lose by having to survive something that you have already proven you are able to survive.

         [email protected]

          Topic: First Week of School

Because it would hurt, still? Whether or not I could survive it isn’t important to me, I know I could. But that doesn’t mean that it won’t hurt. I’m sick of hurting.

Don’t let things hurt you just because you could survive it, Damian.

         [email protected]

          Topic: First Week of School

That is unreasonable advice. Sometimes, it is worth it or easier to let things happen than fight it, especially when you need an answer.

         [email protected]

          Topic: First Week of School

Talk to Jon about it!

         [email protected]

         Topic: First Week of School

Why?

         [email protected]

          Topic: First Week of School

You’ll understand when he explains it, I think! Just show him this conversation and let him take the wheel! (If you want—I’m not telling you what to do!)

         [email protected]

          Topic: First Week of School

I will decide at a later time. Have a good day.
-Damian W. Al Ghul

         [email protected]

          Topic: First Week of School

Okie doke!!! Have a good rest of your day, Damian!
-Mari!

It takes Damian three weeks to so much address his conversation with Dupain-Cheng to Jon. Weeks . He tells himself it is not embarrassing, because he is confused. He should try to take the time to understand before he forces the problem onto someone else.

Both are true. Both are lies.

Jon tells him the same thing, but in more exact words: when you allow yourself to be hurt when it could have been avoided, for the sake of survival when you should be living, then you are purposely hurting yourself and that is bad, because that is self harming.

Oh.

Damian understands self harming.

If situations that are described like this fall under that category, then he can adjust his behavior accordingly. He is done self harming (for now.) There are no more battles to overcome. Jon, Father and Grayson told him that it is not healthy to do such. It would impact his work.

So he stopped.

Just like he can stop now.

Damian Wayne is sixteen and confused about why everything still hurts when it shouldn’t.

His ribs tend to creak when he takes deep breaths, and he thinks maybe it’s because of how strong his lungs are compared to his lack of voice. Nobody thinks of him as a victim (but nobody thinks he’s a survivor either.) What does it mean that living isn’t about surviving? That’s all there is.

It’s about time that things changed.

Chapter Text

Damian Wayne isn’t actually sure how Robin’s story started, and he doesn’t need to. He doesn’t want to because he doesn't care—and nor would he need to know how it ends, either. Life was too unpredictable for that, and in many aspects, Fate still hasn’t made up her mind anyway.

Because unlike his father, when he woke up and felt like something was missing, he didn’t wait for it to fall into his hands or for the perfect opportunity to arise; he went out to find it. He didn’t find it in a suit, or with his fist on someone’s face. He found it on canvases, ever since he was a child.

Colors don’t have strict definitions; they have loose symbols.

It changes with every piece.

So when he learned that his father was Batman (at nine, a year before he’d meet him), he already knew that he’d be asked to be one of his little ‘sidekicks’ when he came. The boys and girl who Bruce Wayne will never agree are his partners, and it wasn’t what Damian wanted.

But it was what he was used to.

The young boy squared his shoulders, and looked Father in the eye—he had just said, “I can train you, to put your blood-thirsty actions to good use. To be more productive by not killing.”—and took a silent, steadying breath. He didn’t want that either.

He didn’t think of how it would end. It wasn’t his place.

Damian said yes.

Damian was kidnapped to get his father’s ransom money. Again .

It’s not scary or frightening or any of the normal things that normal people associate with something like being kidnapped. It’s tedious and boring and out right boring. 

Because not only is he not allowed to save himself because the simpleton kidnappers got him in front of the school so now people know. Which means the news will know. Which means he will have to make a media appearance when he gets back.

Then he has to stay home for however long his family thinks it would take a normal individual—key word: normal—to recover, requiring him not to go to school (a good thing) but he doesn’t get to see Jon either because there’s always reports outside his door ( not a good thing).

Not to mention he saw one of his noisiest teachers pick up his still very active phone off the ground, from where he was emailing Dupain-Cheng.

He needs to start eating in the cafeteria.

This is bullshit .

It’s the next day—after Batman and Nightwing themselves showed up to cuff the kidnappers; because boys like him aren’t saved —that he gets a call from Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s number for the first time. He waits until it rings three times, then answers with an exasperated sigh.

“Yes?”

“Are you the Damian from Gotham that was kidnapped?”

“Where did you hear that from?” His discontent grows by the second. He notes that her voice is high-pitch, but more mature sounding than he thought it would be. “And why did you not email me about this?”

“Oh! I’m sorry. I guess—I got so worried. Rose just told me it’s all over your local news, Chloe used her contacts and said it was true. I’m in the hallway crevice thing right now, hiding, I told Madam Bustier that I had to go to the bathroom, because she doesn’t allow phone calls, so-”

“You ramble just as much over the phone as you do in text.” He observes.

“ Désolée .” Dupain-Cheng is clearly holding herself back, and it annoys him to no end that he can tell. “Um, do you—are you okay?”

“I was kidnapped, yes, but nothing of emotional importance occurred. It was boring. I was retrieved quickly.” None of this is a lie. 

He wants to get off the phone.

Then he hears Jon’s stupid dog-like whine of a voice telling him to be nice to the girl and ends up feeling guilty for thinking that. There is nothing wrong, per se, with communicating with Dupain-Cheng. She is a fine acquaintance, but she wants to be friends and he can’t afford to have more of them.

“Okay…” She pauses, not seeming to believe him. “The ‘W’ in your name, that stands for ‘Wayne?”

“Yes.”

“So  you’re, you’re actually Damian Wayne. The son of that one man, who is, is he a politician?”

“That is a nearly accurate description, yes.”

A bigger pause. Static. He begins to wonder if their connection is poor, due to her not having equally as advanced technology. “So you already knew Lila, before, before I talked about her, I mean. From one of the gala events, and you guys, you don’t have friends. So you’re acquaintances? This whole time?”

This is confusing for him. He never, once, led her to believe this—because not a single thing she just said was true. “I did not know Rossi before you. No.”

It’s like she didn’t hear him at all. They’re just two sixteen year old kids not knowing what to make of each other and do right. It’s now, again, that he wonders what the true meaning and reason behind this assignment is. It can’t be just to be more fluent in languages the students already know.

“I have to go.” Dupain-Cheng’s voice lacks… anything. It’s empty, now. Void. “I’ll email you like you want from now on.”

“Dupain-Cheng-”

Dial tone.

The static continues.

It’s around the end of the Marking Period at Gotham Academy, a month and a half later, when Jon gets ‘sick of Damian’s moping around’ and orders him to talk about his feelings. To his best friend’s credit, that is what Damian responds best to: orders .

“You have to give your Marking Period Pen-Pal Report in a week, Dami.” Jon scolds. “Which means you have to be talking to your pen pal in order to have something to report about. You can’t just be like ‘well, we haven’t talked in a month, but I know English!’ and still get a good grade.”

“Whatever.”

“And on top of that,” He presses. “She’s your friend, and I really like her, and she’s good and respects every aspect of you and your life, and privacy, and she’s your friend , so as your best friend, the rank right above that, I’m telling you that you have to make this right. She was clearly hurt by something. Fix it.”

Damian snaps at this. “I did not hurt her.”

“Then what happened?” Jon settles those icy-blue eyes on him, and the assassin feels terribly seen through. “Because you’ve been clamming up about it for forever, which only happens when you feel guilty, or you want to be the one to make things right.”

He bites back to urge to snap you mean get revenge and takes a breath, then says, “Because there is not a right way to say this. Dupain-Cheng was talking as if she had made up a story about me knowing Rossi, and instead of listening to me saying I did not, she just believed her own story. But I do not—”

Frowning, he reminds himself not to not clench his fists too hard. Jon says his fingers, which ache from all the times they’ve been broken, creak when he does.

He’s trying to be kinder to his body.

“I don’t believe it is something she concocted on her own to hurt herself. She believes I am friends with Rossi, despite me telling her very clearly I do not like her based off of Dupain-Cheng’s own descriptions. It does not make sense. And she has not reached out like she said she would at the time, so I have not reached out first, given she wanted to.”

“You need to talk to her.” The Super deadpans. “Ask her more questions, and be more receptive to what’s going on with her. She isn’t a school assignment, Damian. She’s a person too. A person you happen to like.”

Damian wonders if at this moment, Dupain-Cheng wondered if he was more afraid of opening up than he was of losing her, due to the lack of communication. If he dared to ask—and even though he didn’t, wouldn’t—and actually told which outcome he preferred (loneliness or vulnerability) he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

He hates that Jon is helpful in this aspect. He hates that he didn’t give him the answer that means he gets to stay in his shell.

The Wayne boy huffs. “I do not like her.”

“You tolerate her.” Jon rephrases. 

They’re both aware that to Damian, it means the same thing; but Damian likes the harder definitions of words. 

“And I think that you accidentally confirmed something she desperately didn’t want to be true. I know you haven’t said much, but I know Rossi wasn’t good to her, right? So if she thought that you were involved with it, and this was some sort of prank, or you were relaying the things she was telling you to Rossi, it probably made her really uncomfortable. And maybe your silence confirmed it.”

That… that leaves Damian with a lot to think about.

It echoes in his head, Dupain-Cheng telling him I have to go . He records phone calls, because of the way Grandfather trained him. He can now recognize the pain in her voice, it deepens the pitch, carries further away from the speaker as if she should be whispering.

I have to go. I have to go. She said. Right before that, in a cracking, harsh tone—because maybe she was mad. Maybe her sadness looks like anger—asked, this whole time?

Jon is right.

Damian rages against a canvas, smears red and blue and green on a canvas until he’s panting and paint stained but not less angry at himself. He did hurt her. He does not raise a blade to himself, or a dummy, or one of his brothers. He thinks about it, but is sick of pain.

I have to go .

He made a falling painting of Icarus, cast in pink light. He ripped it up in the morning, but the paint wasn’t dried, so it smeared over him. The assassin climbed back into bed, staining silk, and his pillows alike—and he didn’t fall back asleep, but he pretended to rest.

        [email protected]

         Topic: Our Communication

Dupain-Cheng, could we talk about the confusing ‘thing’ that has been happening between us since our phone call  over a month ago? It is important to me. I am being told to tell you it is not important to me because you’re my acquaintance, and not because of our shared assignment of having to communicate with one another.
You are my acquaintance. I should act like it.

Please get back to me when you can.

-Damian Wayne-Al Ghul

This is one of the first and only times he uses both of his last names when signing something, mostly due to the fact that in all other contexts, one doesn’t matter, would be confusing or inappropriate to use (not to mention at this point in his life, he’s not sure which name is actually fitting to him.

He is his father’s son, but his mother’s prodigy.

What does that make him?)

But Dupain-Cheng already knows, so there’s nothing at stake here. Which is one of the reasons that Damian texted when it would be three in the morning for her on purpose . The other is so that she wouldn’t respond right away and he would have time to respond in the morning.

Instead, his phone rings with a response almost instantly.

         [email protected]

         Topic: Our Communication

Hey Damian, I’m sorry about the lack of contact after I told you I would email you!
Especially after you were kidnapped. I feel so bad about it. I just freaked out and then it was never the right time, and I know you have strong opinions about stuff like this, and I didn’t want to ruin anything between us more. We are acquaintances, you’re right. 

-Marinette

He’s painfully aware that this means something different to her. He feels an ache somewhere distinctly around his ribs. A deep breath in. A long one out. He’s fine.

Damian keeps reading.

I freaked out because of your connection with Lila, I know how people get when they’re friends with her, especially close ones. It scared me that you might be the same way. I figured out that even if you are friends with her, you’d keep your head, or at least, stay rational.

But I have to know, Damian, are you actually friends with her?

        [email protected]

         Topic: Our Communication

No, I am not.
I never met Lila Rossi, and nor do I ever plan to be friends with her. She is not the kind of person I socialize with; you are. She does not even meet the basic requirements of being someone I am able to stand. I have never lied to you, or shared your information with anyone other than Kent.

However, I don’t know what led you to believe that we would be friends, Dupain-Cheng, or even know each other, but it is not true.

-Damian

         [email protected]

         Topic: Our Communication

Do you promise?

-Marinette

        [email protected]

         Topic: Our Communication

I promise.

-Damian

His heart thumps in his chest. This should not make him feel so weak. Damian wishes Jon was next to him—he’d know what to do about this sudden unease in the Wayne boy’s body.

All he knows is that it has to do everything with Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

         [email protected]

         Topic: Our Communication

Okay. Okay. I believe you.

Let’s restart, kind of. How about this: we agree to open communication (for me) and a schedule of it (for you)? Some days of the week, outside of emails. Whether it’s texting or anything, I’m not sure what you’re comfortable with, I am with anything, but we need to be more open with what we need.

I am your acquaintance, but I want to be your friend. You haven’t been treating me like a school assignment, as much as you think that you might be.

Can we be friends?

        [email protected]

         Topic: Our Communication

I have talked with Kent. If you agree to my right of pulling my friendship and acquaintanceship back, at any moment, regardless if you agree with my reason and continue to respect my privacy and the fact that I am a Wayne, I will agree to work to maybe, and this is something I am going to be stern about, maybe be friends.

         [email protected]

         Topic: Our Communication

Okay!!!! We can do that!

        [email protected]

         Topic: Our Communication

This will be on my terms.

         [email protected]

         Topic: Our Communication

Okay! :D

        [email protected]

         Topic: Our Communication

We will not be as close as me and Kent.

         [email protected]

         Topic: Our Communication

That’s okay!!! We don’t have to be. As long as we talk, and you stand me, and I like being ‘around’ you, then anything is okay with me.

        [email protected]

         Topic: Our Communication

This is still a school assignment.

         [email protected]

         Topic: Our Communication

Things can have more than one definition, Damian.

        [email protected]

         Topic: Our Communication

You are tiringly optimistic, Dupain-Cheng.

         [email protected]

         Topic: Our Communication

Can you call me Marinette?

Damian hesitates.

He rarely even calls Grayson his first name, even if the opposite is true for Jon. She is across the sea, not involved in his personal life. It will not be something that gets out, it is not something that is dangerous. There is nothing that spawns growth like having to get over something.

With a scowl, he agrees. 

Kind of.

        [email protected]

         Topic: Nicknames

Is there a nickname I could address you as instead? I am partly uncomfortable with using first names, but am willing to compromise to test this potential friendship, even if I doubt our acquaintanceship will grow that far.

         [email protected]

         Topic: Nicknames

Well, I like my nicknames to have meanings, of course. 

Me, Nino and Kim have them: Cupcake, Steak and Dino! From an old TV show we used to watch as kids, it was kind of weird but we were obsessed with it. And ofc, everyone sticks to Mari or Nette, but you’re not just anyone. I want it to be different, special.
We could do matching nicknames!

And if at any point you want to try and be more comfortable with it, you can test using my name, and I will never comment on it or push you for more!

        [email protected]

         Topic: Nicknames

Noted.

What do you mean by ‘matching’ nicknames? Our names are not similar.

         [email protected]

         Topic: Nicknames

No, goofy. Like, what’s something people say you act like? One of my friends compares me to a dog a lot, and will occasionally call me a puppy, so I’ll call them a bunny! (Their name is Alix, and they’re really cool!) Stuff like that!

        [email protected]

         Topic: Nicknames

I am referred to as a demon a lot.

         [email protected]

         Topic: Nicknames

Are you even comfortable with that?

        [email protected]

         Topic: Nicknames

Yes. It is not said as a bad thing anymore.

         [email protected]

         Topic: Nicknames

Then is there anything with that nickname you want to use to create mine? Since you’re already used to being called it, it could make you more comfortable.

        [email protected]

         Topic: Nicknames

That is agreeable. What are some options, in your opinion?

         [email protected]

         Topic: Nicknames

You could go on the same vibe: Devil, Satan, Imp, Pixie, Fae, Vampire (lol), Jinn, Ghost, Brute
Or on the opposite vibe: Saint, God(ess), Angel, Softie, Fae (same), Guardian, Deity

Stuff like that?

        [email protected]

         Topic: Nicknames

Let me think about it.

         [email protected]

         Topic: Goodnight

Alright!!!!
I’m very happy you reached out, and I’m sorry if I’m rambling or anything, it’s pretty late here and I woke up from your notification tone. We’re gonna be friends one day, alright, Damian? Don’t ever let me get away with ghosting you or treating you bad again.

Goodnight,
-Marinette!! :3

        [email protected]

         Topic: Goodnight

I will not. Have a good night, Dupain-Cheng.

-Damian Wayne-Al Ghul

They go with angel .

Damian Wayne and Marinette Dupain-Cheng actually talk now.

A designated two hours every Tuesday, Friday and Saturday night, starting at 10pm for her, and 4pm for him. She gets off at midnight, and he leaves right when Pennyworth is done with dinner at 6. They made a rule that Damian will be damned to break.

No lying .

And when they talk, they talk about everything and anything. Never once did Marinette act like she knew the answer to a question she asked about him. Not even his favorite color, which was green, even if she did then say that she pegged him for more of a ‘red guy’.

Marinette told him that growing up her parents were always overprotective at the same time they let it slide when she got hurt, like it wasn’t okay for her to be in pain until she was, and then it was dismissible. She told him about being Multi-Mouse.

And he was pleased that she never acted like being a hero was a good thing.

He’s not sure if anything he learned about her like that would be surprising or not. To him, everything about Marinette Dupain-Cheng was… okay. Expected. Explainable. Jon agreed with him too. This is something that his suspicious brain liked.

Even the unknown, T and C—they don’t feel threatening.

The heroes of Gotham and Paris were topics they avoided, though they talked plenty about the villains. (Robin never mentioned Batman or Robin, and Marinette never mentioned Chat Noir or Ladybug. It was an equal, telling exchange, really.) They talk about their personal villains too—though for them both, sometimes they’re one in the same; Joker, Hawkmoth; equal in the making of biting memories and scars. But those are the same ones they can’t divulge. 

Once and only once, she tells him that she dreamed about moving away and how she first got the idea because it felt like running away, and how he stayed in Gotham because no where else could feel like home.

Not even with Mother.

Neither much had the stomach for the selflessness of heroics anymore. They’re worn down, not that they could tell the other that (and not that they already knew).

So Marinette and Damian talk.

They might email more. He might not respond to (any) of her good morning or good night texts. He might not call them friends—but it is growth; he is learning. He does not have to be abnormal—a killer— god . He can be a teenage boy. And he’s allowed to do things like this.

Damian Wayne is allowed to look forward to phone calls of a girl across the sea, with a rambling mouth and soft words.

He is.

Chapter Text

The first morning that Damian woke up at the Wayne Manor and started his new life, son of Bruce Wayne instead of Talia Al Ghul—because he refused to believe they were both true at the same time—he woke up at four, trained for three hours and ate breakfast outside of Pennyworth’s watchful gaze.

The third week is the one where he broke routine.

Grayson had scolded him, yelled , for the first time after Damian had hurt—sorry, killed a civilian in costume for the first time and it reminded him too much of Ra’s after a mission, and he cracked. Broke. But the thing about boys like him is that they do not break.

But that morning he pulled a pillow tight to his chest, having caved and slept in the massive bed Father offered in place of his sleep-mat from Mother’s, as if it was an act of spite, and tried to breathe deep. He was an Al Ghul— no, he was a Wayne .

Wayne’s don’t cry. They don’t break down.

Because they cannot afford to.

Father is gathering the family like they’re about to go to war.

This is annoying to Damian—in his opinion, they have always been to war—and tedious, because he’s made peace with Grayson living in Bludhaven. And he didn’t have to reconcile with Todd living in an apartment away.

Somehow Father, Drake or Pennyworth (probably all three at times) convinced his brothers to move back in: Grayson with his whole family, Todd with Stephanie Brown, who was ‘complaining about rent prices too much for him to sit there and do nothing’.

Then Father brought in Duke Thomas.

Now Damian has to live with more people and he is furious about it. He is introverted and prefers being isolated by nature. The people he lived with before are almost too much, he doesn’t want his life to get more complicated.

Father was a quiet, strict force and he could deal with that. Pennyworth was a ghost, and he could deal with that. Cain is his only sister, is quiet, reserved and kind, and he could deal with that. Somehow, he could even deal with Drake’s presence.

But all of his family at the same time?

No. He can’t deal with that.

The first day that Grayson kicks open the door and Koriand’r and Mar’i fly in, and an hour later Todd, Brown and Thomas walk in with Starbuck's, is the same day that Damian packs a bag, alerts Father that “I’ll be back.” and takes the first taxi that he can see to Metropolis.

“Jon, Jon, Jon .” Damian mutters in the backseat, leg bouncing. He’s too overwhelmed to deal with the blaring light of his phone. He can just grab the strap of one of his bags, tight, and say, “Jon.”

By the time Damian arrived on the street, Jon was already seen outside of his blue two-story, bouncing from heel-to-heel. He rushes the taxi, a bit faster than a human should but neither boy cares enough because this is Metropolis , inhuman things happen every day.

Jon pries the door open the same time Damian unlocks it and clambers over one of his bags, and they quickly fall into a tight embrace. His best friend knows how he likes touch—heavy, not soft, like a tickle, like someone’s about to bruise him—and so it feels bone deep.

The assassin takes a shuddering breath against the hero, and lets his fingers dig as hard into his shoulder blades as he could. 

Grayson would call it a miracle that someone is touching him. Damian would like to point out that he has always hugged his family; he doesn't know where the misconceptions about him started. Somewhere along the first ‘demon’ nickname and into the now.

Damian hates the now.

“What’s going on?” Jon asks, not pulling away. Damian’s left thumb aches from the pressure, and he’s lifted onto his toes. “Did Uncle Bruce fire you again?”

It was a rough week when Father told Damian he was no longer allowed to be Robin, and an even rougher week when Grayson convinced them both that Robin was needed. Needed for Gotham. But perhaps, not needed for Batman, in Father’s opinion.

He was wrong.

“No.” Damian says. His voice is strong and he pushes away from Jon before the hug can start to feel bad. “He, Pennyworth and Drake —” His name is said like poison. “—had our brothers move back in with their families, and two of Father’s sub-par side-kicks without asking me my opinion.”

Blue eyes flick between his own. “They just assumed you’d be okay with it because they’re your family.”

“Yes.”

“Too many people?”

“Yes.”

“Alright,” Jon accepts this, and hurriedly grabs all of Damian’s bags while the Wayne boy throws the taxi driver a few extra hundred dollars. He was rude to him unnecessarily; and it is not an apology, but he doesn’t want to give one either. “Dad made cookies.”

Damian hesitates in stepping towards the door. “Is it alright that I am here?”

“Well,” Jon cracks his knuckles, puffing out his chest like he’s all that . “I’d like to see them send you back.”

“ Jon .”

His best friend just cracks a reassuring smile, “They’ve been asking about you coming over for a while. Plus, Dad was expecting you. We put new covers on my bed already!”

“I don’t want to sleep with you, Jonathan.” Damian scowls, but they both know he’s past feeling uncomfortable in tight spaces with the Kent boy. Missions where they have to go through vents and forced sleepovers from their father’s will do that to people.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jon playfully rolls his eyes. “You’ll get over it.”

Five days at the Kent house, and Damian is finally roped in by Lane to help make the family dinner. Both of the Kryptonians were banned from making lasagna after they both at separate times decided to try and cook it with their heat vision.

Lane said it was also a good practice to have, because that way he can learn about other cultures, know how his food is being prepared, and that way he could help her with the eggplant they’re replacing the meat in. Only Pennyworth has gone the distance to make fully vegetarian meals for him before.

It feels… it feels a lot more like love than he expected it to.

“Clark’s told me about your mother,” Lane says. Damian’s shoulders bristle but he keeps diligently peeling the eggplant. “And the league. Is it okay if I ask you some questions?”

It’s in the way she doesn’t look at him that he can answer. “About Mother, or the league?”

Lane is steady. “Both.”

“Um,” He tenses. “Yes.”

The way she thanks him feels more than unnecessary. “I know how they train their proteges and heirs. Did they ever hurt you outside of your training?”

“What do you mean?” It’s now he remembers her multiple degrees in psychology and child development. Damian is not the kind of boy who is understood early. “Training didn’t hurt. It was informative.”

“Things can hurt and still be useful.” Lane speaks while stirring the sauce and adding spices to it. “And I mean, did they ever hurt you or put you down physically or emotionally outside of your training.”

“No.” He doesn’t think about it because he doesn’t want to. Why would he think about such useless things? The assassin is more than aware where Lane is going with this—he will never admit to his parents having hurt him—and he immediately feels uneasy.

Lane nods as if he had told the truth. “Does anything other people do remind you of your training? Or the way that they hurt you?”

Speaking would be admitted that he was hurt (when he wasn’t) so Damian determinedly and sourly presses his lips together. But then Jon’s words are echoing in his head— when you allow yourself to be hurt when it could have been avoided…  that is self harming .

It makes him wonder if this is the difference between him and Jon. Not they way that they have been raised or loved, but because of who has loved them.

“Damian?”

“We are done talking about this.”

He was more than aware that he had snapped, rudely at that, at the woman who has been nothing but kind to him, but Lane doesn’t even flinch. Even Grayson still flinches. She just nods, finally glancing back at Damian with a smile. “Thanks for answering my questions.”

He cannot answer, because she is a parent—and parents are gods—and he didn’t answer her questions, or he did, but he lied. His head rages and says, I lied, I lied, I lied . And it is synonymous with hurting himself, and therefore, hurting his best friend.

And Damian had promised Jon he was done with that.

The rest of dinner goes without a hitch.

Dupain-Cheng
Bonjour, mon Damian!
News !

Dupain-Cheng
Chloe’s taking me, Adrien, Sabrina and our friend Kagami (she’s dating Adrien rn) on a tour of New York! We’re going for fashion week! I’M GONNA BE AUDREY BOURGEOIS’ ASSISTANT! She’s the Fashion Queen, Damian. THE FASHION QUEEN

Damian !!!
You do not have to text me to tell me your news. Nor do you have to speak in all caps

Dupain-Cheng
Is it no longer okay for me to text you ?? I can stop
You said it was okay last week, I’m sorry I didn’t notice the change :/

“Don’t push her away.” Jon advises, not even looking at Damian—playing Minecraft on his Xbox, despite the way it makes him terribly motion-sick, with music playing softly in the background. At his best friend’s huff, he explains, “You had your ringtone on.”

Damian scowls. “I won’t.”

“Thank you!”

Damian !!!
Who is the ‘Fashion Queen’?

Dupain-Cheng
You don’t know ???

Dupain-Cheng
Damian, how are you the son of the ‘most cultured man in Gotham’ and have this many siblings in the media, I mean, don't some of them go to fashion week ??? And you don’t know who FQ is?
Chloe tells me to tell you that she’s appalled

Damian !!!
I could care less what Bourgeois is. I take it ‘FQ’ is her mother, then.
Why is she important to you, specifically?

Dupain-Cheng
She’s one of the reasons I started doing actual commissions this summer instead of just shoving everything in a box or giving it away !!!
She built her own fashion line and company at 18 - and already had Chloe at that point too !! Megastar (but C- on mom skills)

Damian !!!
Noted.
Bourgeois’ parents had her young?

Damian !!!
You are serious about starting an actual business then? Even though your parents need someone to take over your bakery? That has been your worry in the past, yes?

Dupain-Cheng
Yeah it has :(

Dupain-Cheng
And her mom had her young - her dad was a 20 something politician that got his 17 y/o gf pregnant and married her so there wouldn’t be any rumors about him
They’re separated but not divorced

Damian !!!
He doesn’t sound like a good man. Why is he the mayor?

Dupain-Cheng
He has his moments

Dupain-Cheng
And yeah, I’m like 100% committed to becoming an actual designer. I want to be someone who has my name an embarrassing magazines and ppl my age freak out about when they get to be her assistant, and get interviews with different media platforms where I say embarrassing things

Dupain-Cheng
Which you’d already be familiar with

Damian !!!
That was an unnecessary last comment, Dupain-Cheng

Damian !!!
I could help you get your business off of the ground when you turn the age of majority if you don’t want your parents to be involved in the process.

Dupain-Cheng
Ik you’re powerful / rich enough to really help, but I would like to earn my own

Damian !!!
That is honorable.

Dupain-Cheng
Thanks, Damian !!!

Damian !!!
Enjoy your vacation, Dupain-Cheng.

Dupain-Cheng
I will! I will!
But I was actually wondering if you’d be okay with me sending you pictures? If you don’t want me/my friends in them, I can just send the ones of my designs or the aesthetic ones ???

Dupain-Cheng
Kim is on vacation right now too! He’s going to Egypt with Alix and her dad, and sending me a bunch of pictures/info about it all, so it’s not all NY designs!! It’s Paris / NY / Italy / Egypt designs and I think you’d definitely enjoy the ones based off of Egyptian mythology !!

Dupain-Cheng
I’m not expecting a photo of you in return, I promise !

Damian !!!
You may.

Dupain-Cheng
Yay! Ty!!!
Could you share them with Jon too?? He’d probs love the goofy ones :D

Damian !!!
I will. Goodnight

Clark Kent’s adoptive parents, Jon’s grandparents, are due to visit and this is when Damian is sure that the Kent-Lane hospitality will wear out. It has been three weeks at this point, summer is coming to a close, and he is admittedly hard to deal with.

He’s anxious right up until the morning of the visit. But as he will tell you, Damian Al Ghul doesn’t get nervous.

Damian Wayne does, though.

Then, Samuel Kent, who his best friend was named after, pops his head into his grandson’s room without knocking first, before Jon is even awake. He’s smiling already. “I heard we gained another mouth ta’ feed.” He drawls. “You’re my Jonny’s friend, then?”

Damian makes sure his back is straight against the desk chair. “Yes, sir.”

“‘Sir’!” The older man chuckles. “I like that. Where are you from?”

“Nanda Parbat.” He simplifies. “And Gotham.”

Samuel grins. “You’re that Wayne boy, then?”

“Yes, sir, I am.” He bows his head. If parents are gods, grandparents are something sacred. “Damian.”

“Well, Damian , tell me something.” The farmer puts a calloused hand on the doorframe. “Is the little one as clumsy as the big one?”

Damian’s mood rises in an instant, because he’s just like Jon . He talks like him. Grins like him. “It differs month to month.”

“Ah, yes, all those growth spurts.” Samuel gives Damian an assessing once-over, nodding. “As tall as my boys may be, you’re going to be taller.”

Being only five-foot ten now, annoying his whole family—compared to him being five-foot six in freshman year, and five-foot two in middle school—and taking after his mother physically, he can’t imagine why the older man thinks he’ll be tall .

The Wayne boy stares at him, confused. “What is your reason for saying that?”

“Ain’t you formal?” He teases. “And kid, it’s all in the shoulders.”

“My shoulders?”

“Like a puppy growing into his paws.” The grandfather nods like this all makes sense. “I’d say you’re really gonna come into your height, say, this up-comin’ year? Give or take. Gives ya’ plenty of time to adjust. Do you like pie, Damian?”

This is reminding Damian of meeting Kent out of costume for the first time a little too much. He sighs. “Yes. Sometimes.”

“Cherry, apple, pear, blackberry and rhubarb are acceptable.” Jon replies firmly, explaining Damian’s preferences sleepily, rubbing at an eye while he’s still stomach-down on his mattress. “Chess, blackberry and strawberry are okay. Coconut too. Pumpkin, pecan, blueberry and key lime are unacceptable.”

“Shepherd’s and sweet potato don’t count.” The assassin finishes, almost smiling.

“Alright, alright. You got quite the list there, young man. Did you take this poor boy out on a pie day or somethin’ weird?” Samuel turns to Damian as Jon just gives him a sheepish look. “You two must be close for Jonny to know all that. Y’all go to school together?”

“Yes, sir, we do.”

“Yeah!” Jon sits up in a rush, excited. His eyes are glowing. Samuel glances at Damian, but says nothing. “Dad and Mom made sure I was able to apply for it, but Uncle Bruce made sure I actually got into Gotham Academy.”

“Oh, that preppy place? Lord.” Samuel chuckles, shaking his head. “How’d you get there every day?”

“I fly!”

Damian rolls his eyes. “Or my driver, Pennyworth, comes and picks him up.”

“And I spend a lot of nights at the Wayne Manor to make it easier.” Jon nods.

“I know that Gotham slugger would stick it out with your old man, Jonny.” He muses, then backtracks as the two teenagers share confused looks. “What, you think I don’t know how Bruce Wayne can be? I had to meet him myself, when he started running the league. Had to make sure it was good enough for my boys. Don’t you think your daddies are an unlikely pair?”

“No more than us, Pa.”

Samuel laughs, nods, says “Exactly.” before excusing himself to go chat with Lane some, since apparently Kent is with his mother, Martha, and Conner, Drake’s best friend and Jon’s older brother. When he’s out of earshot, Damian turns to his best friend with a glare.

“Your country slipped out. It’s disturbing.”

He giggles. “Thanks!”

Delaware and New Jersey are in the same time zone. 

Because of this, it’s not surprising when Marinette Dupain-Cheng texts Damian outside of normal hours. That being said, she’s normally very conscientious of what time it is for him. It’s abnormal when he gets a text at three in the morning, blaring loudly into the quiet room.

Dupain-Cheng
can i please call you

Dupain-Cheng
im sorry

Damian doesn’t go to the roof arrogant of the fact that the supers can still hear him; he just feels better with the semblance of privacy. The cool air sweeps across his face and he’s able to take a deep breath without feeling like he’s suffocating.

Or feel like he’s lying about still being alive.

The landscape is  far from it, but being above the tree-line reminds him of Gotham. A part of him misses it. He’s scared to go back and have to explain himself, to have to tell them why and he left and have to keep the fact he only stayed away this long is because none of them tried to bring him back.

He takes a deep breath and responds.

Damian !!!
You can call. I’m alone.

Within five minutes his phone is ringing and he answers it as fast as he can—hoping to not wake up Jon or Kent. “Dupain-Cheng? You are not texting like yourself.”

“ Mon Damian, I’m gonna, I’m gonna talk a lot.” Marinette warns, sounding tired, and sad. “Do you want me to speak in English, or-”

“French is fine.”

“Alright,” She takes a stammering breath. He is alerted to the fact that that could mean she’s been crying, and feels a bit awkward and a little bit more hopeless about that. “Here goes—”

Marinette tells him about the recent happenings within her friend group, or, larger-than-normal friend group. This is the one where Chloe Bourgeois is there, if only she wants, and Alya Cesaire is like a ghost. C is never mentioned, but he doesn’t have to be.

“Everything was so much simpler when I was eleven, and only had to worry about Chloe, or scrapping my knees.” Marinette admits. “It feels like the weight of the world is on my shoulders and, and,” A hiccupping sound echoes out. “And I wish I could go back.”

“The person you are now doesn’t belong there anymore.” He responds, wishing he had what Brown calls a ‘soothing’ voice, like Todd or Thomas. Instead, she says he sounds mad. “The only path is forward.”

“The only path is forward,” Batman snaps down to Robin, who is on the edge of a roof, nursing a black-purple shoulder and a bruised ego. “There is no use crying about it.”

“I don’t cry.” Robin had snapped back.

“Good.” His mentor, not father, responded. “Soldiers don’t cry.”

He flinches, and tries to focus on her voice.

Apparently, since both she and Le Chien went on vacation, Lahiffe was left alone and hung out with Cesaire, and now they’re getting back together—though she reports that Lahiffe said something along the lines of: “I didn’t know how to say no, or if I wanted to, but I know Alya and she’s really cool, and I think it’s worth giving a shot.”

She also said his kid brother agrees too, Chris loves Alya.

“But kids do.” Todd had snapped, banging a door open when Damian was busy reporting to Grayson what Father had said in the suit, eavesdropping from the hallway. “And as much as you say you’re not, you are a kid, Demon-spawn. It doesn’t matter how good of a Robin you are. What matters is if you’re a good person, and B can’t grasp that if it was hanging from a string right in front of his fucking face-”

“Jason.” Grayson scolded. “Dad knows it’s important to be a good person.”

“Yeah?” Todd had laughed. It was this conversation that convinced Damian to like him. “I’ll believe that when he starts believing less in justice.”

“Justice is the most important-”

“Suck my dick, you-”

He had stopped listening, mostly because they were fighting and he hated that, but partly because he was already making up his mind about something: Damian Al Ghul was a good soldier, yeah, he was a pretty good soldier, but Damian Wayne is a bad person.  

Damian’s breath is coming in hard, but once he digs his thumb into the palm of his hand enough for tears to weld in the corners of his eyes, he’s okay.

Marinette is the focus right now.

Not him .

She tells him that she feels like she failed as a friend, that she feels like a bad person for not supporting them getting back together. Lahiffe is a very loyal friend, who is strong and sturdy about everything other than himself. He’s reliable and always bounces back to Marinette.

But she is not so good at standing up to others when it involves telling them no .

“And I feel like I’m betraying Alya for thinking all this, and betraying Nino by not telling him I am thinking all this and telling Kim it like it’s gossip. But it’s not! Even though when it comes to Alya, it always felt like I abandoned her but she didn’t even notice when I slipped away and now is asking like it never happened.”

Damian hums.

She doesn’t need an actual response, he’s learned, she just needs him to listen and show that. Emailing before texting, or calling, certainly paid off.

“But she lost a job opportunity because of the way she’s treating Nino when her would-be boss found out! And I feel like that’s somehow my fault too, because I’m comfortable with him, and if I just didn’t tell him about my concerns as a person, maybe it would be different for the business. You know?”

Damian doesn’t.

“And I don’t support her relationship with Lila, or Adrien, because it seems controlling, or Nino! So it’s like,” She sighs. “How much worse could I be? For doing all these things, and thinking the way I do. We’re barely friends, but I am a shitty friend anyway.”

“Dupain-Cheng… Marinette ,” He amends, clearing his throat. “I think you need to focus less on yourself and more on others.”

A sniff. “What?”

“How did what Cesaire did with Lila impact you? How did it impact others? Your classmates? How is her being in a relationship with your bully, the boy she treated poorly, your ex-crush and friend who you said is triggered by a hard hand impacting your social atmosphere? Is it positive? Is it negative? Take yourself out of the situation, is it still a bad one?”

It’s annoying how Jon’s voice seems to echo along with his. He’s the one who’s trying to get Damian to trust and love himself. He didn’t know that’d come with a second voice in his mind saying now you know how to help others too, isn’t that nice? Helping, instead of slicing others apart?

Damian thinks Jon is annoying.

It takes a few moments for Marinette to reply.

“ Mon Damian , it… it can’t be about her. It’s about me. She said—I mean, it started with me. Not her.” 

The assassin scoffs. “Then why am I not seeing the flaws in your actions?”

“Because I’m your friend and you’re, um, you’re biased towards me?” She asked this hopefully.

He crushes the hope like a bug. “I hope that sounded equally as ridiculous to you as it does to me, Dupain-Cheng.”

“Utterly?”

“Pardon?”

“Nevermind. It did.” The baker sighs, and Damian wonders if his French is getting rusty. “Did I really not do something wrong?”

“You really did nothing wrong, Dupain-Cheng.”

A higher, deeply upset noise sounds out, and Marinette seems to whine over the phone. He remembers her telling him she gets more emotional the more tired she is. It’s getting late in the day, even for her. “Then why— why does it hurt ?”

It shouldn’t make Damian feel so upset to hear her be in pain, but it does. Jon is not right. He does not care about her. He ignores it in favor of having a calm voice. “Making the right decision,” He was once told. “Does not guarantee a good outcome.”

“Why is the world like this?”

“I wish I knew.” Because that sounds childish, but it is easier than saying the words I don’t know .

She takes a hard breath n, and then asks, “Why do you sound sad?”

Damian glares at nothing. “Why do you think I sound sad?”

“I don’t know, actually. I just do.” A pause. “Why, are you happy?”

Now Damian wishes that Jon actually was here, snooping into his business. He would knkow if he should reveal what’s actually happening with his life, or leave it at a simple I’m fine . Though, Damian would have to point out that he is not sad and nothing is wrong.

At least three times. So maybe it is for the better.

“Damian?” Marinette asks. Her voice is almost normal now, but still wavering. “It’s okay for you to talk to me.”

He caves.

Jon meets a boy named Jay Nakamura at his father’s work. 

He just graduated an Metropolis school and is currently interning to be a reporter and at DSU for the same reasons, but already has a journalist website called ‘The Truth’ that is beyond popular with the locals (later, when Damian looks up his name, nothing alarming would come up).

He comes home blushing from his chest to the tips of his ears, eyes glowing blue when he takes his glasses off, and falling onto his bed with a sigh.

“I’ve fallen in love.” His best friend says.

Damian rolls his eyes. “This is the fifth time you’ve said that this year.”

“He’s different, I can feel it!”

“You said that about Naomie from the academy as well, Jon.”

“We had chemistry together! Literally!”

Sighing, Damian turns up from where he’s packing his bag. Grayson is coming to get him because—Gotham misses Robin—Father misses his son. “How is he different?”

“‘Cause I met him two months ago.” Jon blurts, and Damian immediately is glaring. 

He takes his best friend’s safety very seriously, and being around someone with him being able to check them isn’t safe at all. 

“And I took it slow! And he’s so sweet, Dami, he really is! He makes me laugh! And he wants to meet you even after I described you how you want me to describe you to strangers, and how I actually describe you, and you know how important that is to me.”

The assassin takes a moment to gather himself. He hates the idea of sharing him, but is innately aware that the way he, and apparently Nakamura, has Jon is inherently not the same . “You’re serious about this?”

“Yeah! I mean, yes!” Jon gulps, and sits up, bouncing a leg between the railing of his bed and the floor. “I am. It’s the first time I went into a relationship with no goals in mind, and didn’t let anyone else butt in. Even Dad stayed out of it, and he’s worse about me than you are.”

“That is offensive, but alright.” He nods. “I will meet him.”

“You will?”

“Yes.”

“You will!”

“Yes, Jonathan-”

The kryptonian tackles him out of the desk chair, causing Damian to start wrestling with him until they’re separated by Kent coming into the room and pulling them apart by the back of the shirt, Jon giggling while Damian tries to kick him one last time.

It doesn’t work.

“Now what is the matter with you two?” Kent demands. “You were getting along so well. Damian .”

Damian—feeling like it’s absolutely the right thing to do—goes to snap, but Jon shakes his head and interrupts before he can. “I started it, Dad! Besides, he wouldn’t really hurt me even if he could. I promise. We’re good. Just doing our parting fight. Get it, like parting goodbyes?”

“Damian, is this true?” Superman’s ‘tell the truth, or else’ stare has never worked well on the Wayne’s.

“Yes.”

Jon’s cackle fills the air. 

Damian’s kick lands this time.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s greeting to him was always the same, “ Bonjour, mon Damian.”

My Damian. 

That’s what she calls him. The funny thing about that is that he never minds, never thought it was strange. As if it was just apart of her culture, when it’s not. Opening up opened a part of his psyche he genuinely didn’t know existed: craving being wanted . 

It made him want to hear her voice. Jon says it’s normal, he does the same thing with Nakamura— annoyingly —but Jon still doesn’t understand 

Damian’s never been someone’s before.

Damian is pissed because Jon is right .

He cares.

The higher up you go, the clearer you think. Her balcony, the Eiffel Tower, the roof of her school—they’re as close as Marinette can get to the stars without jumping, flinging herself into the atmosphere, hoping that she doesn’t come back down.

And the computer lab of the local library is below the ground, decked out with wide screens, new keyboards and old mouses. Marinette looked up everything she could about Damian Wayne there—knowing her parents' tendencies to snoop—that she could find, trying to find him saying in any interviews the name ‘ Lila Rossi’ .

His brothers and sister never once mention him having a girlfriend, or female best friend. Just a friend he goes to school with that’s the son of a journalist. She knows this to be Jon. Damian was a very isolated person, and seems to be just as grump in person as he is online.

Marinette turns to Tikki, who is just a maroon figure fading into the background near the light-switch, and asks, “I should trust him, shouldn’t I?”

“Trust is earned.”

The heroine frowns, leaning back in her chair, fingers thrumming on the desk. “He… he’s earned it.”

A deep hum sends shivers along the heroine’s skin, and the god moves up, eyes like black holes as she studies her holder. “Then why do you sound so uncertain? Ladybugs need to be able to trust their instincts. What do your instincts tell you?”

“They say-” Marinette interrupts herself in order to sit up straight, posture fixed, and look more confident than she feels. “They say he’s dangerous, but good.”

“Are you okay with that, little one?”

“I want to be.”

And that’s that.

Chapter Text

It’s about two gods.

About the embodiment of destruction who touched everything he killed, and the goddess of creation, who refused to wilt under his palm. About their children, the souls they’ve changed, the ones they’ve made gods too. The lost. The forgotten. 

The saved .

But it’s also about a man who woke up everyday knowing that he was missing something, because he is the one who left the biggest part of himself behind after the guardians were destroyed, and every day, without fault, said, “Your miraculous has a way of bringing things back to you. Of completing you.”

He put a green bracelet on his wrist, and acted like it made him whole.

And this story is starting again, all over, with a girl who knows how to put a needle and thread through fabric longer than she could stand to look at herself in the mirror, about a girl who knows pain better than joy, and about a boy who shakes when door closes behind him, clutches thick sweatshirts to his chest and goes on to sleep for days.

About a boy and his fear of entrapment, and a girl and her passion for life.

Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and… she doesn’t know.

But she will. One day. Hopefully. He’s her partner, until the end. The other half of her heroine self, the one that competes the part of her that Tikki made, wholly different from the soulmates she believes her, Nino and Kim to be. Her black cat, his bug.

It’s fate.

Damian Wayne is someone she chooses.

This is important.

The week before their Junior year in school is due to start at Francoise Dupont, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, under the guise of Ladybug, fights and pinned Rena Rouge in a back alley, and revoked her miraculous.

For the entire year, Marinette heard angry shouts and listened to rants about herself from a best friend that she was desperately trying to turn into a stranger, and Chloe would tell her, reassuringly, like it made it any better, that she’d heard from five different news anchors and her father that it made the Miraculous Team function better.

Nino told her it was okay—in that comfortingly confusing way of his, with his sweet smiles and sure-fire attitude—and that he understands the anxiety behind it, and Kim didn’t let her forget in his own ways, noticing the difference in his two other halves, that they were both still wanted.

Good things can hurt.

Everyone was reporting about it, it made headlines. ( What Could Make Ladybug Pull Rena From Her Team? Find Out Here! ) And Marinette knew the truth. She knew.

Alya Cesaire was a good hero, she believed in justice and truth, and divine femininity. But she was a bad friend. And that small, small fact in the face of it all, it cost her. Rena Rogue did not go easy, she went with a fight—she didn’t know why it was happening, and Marinette didn’t blame her.

She would have fought too.

Marinette wakes up some times, more when it’s raining, sweating her way through the sheets and trembling in her limbs, feeling weak, gasping awake, dreaming of the fight between them—a deeper voice, a shout—illusions all around her, blue flashing lights—walls closing in—bloodied cheeks, bruising under her suit—a staff hitting her—string wrapped around her best friend—sobbing—crying—begging—the whites of her eyes turning red—

That kind of fight.

Tonight was one of those nights.

The heroine rises from her bed and sits on the floor of her shower until the water turns cold, and once she gets out she pads across her bedroom floor to reach up for her phone. Kim needs his sleep for the upcoming marathon he’s training non-stop for after missing time in Egypt, Nino’s on the evening patrol shift and collapses around eleven most nights.

She can’t tell Damian about it.

She makes up her mind about who to call quickly.

Kagami’s contact flits across her screen, and it rings while she pulls on her tank top. One, two, three, four times before it clicks off in a hang-up. Marinette frowns, checks the time—three-forty six in the morning—and begins to think it’s reasonable, past the hurt of being ignored.

Then it starts to ring, Chloe’s picture spreading across the screen. She answers instantly, and the blonde’s voice echoes around the stale air of her bathroom. “Kami’s phone is about to die.” Chloe explains, not sounding tired at all. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“I had a nightmare.” She admits. “About-”

“Her?”

“Yeah.” Marinette gulps thick, and feels gross. “Can you… can you guys come over?”

Kagami is the one that answers next, “We’ll be there in seven minutes. Luka spent the night at Nino’s with Kim and Adrien, since he had bad dreams too. None of us could sleep. Luka said it’s the pressure in the air. Would you like me to invite any of them too?”

She doesn’t even think about it. “Let them have their boy’s night. We can have a girl’s night. Can Chloe bring movies?”

“Anything you want, campanule .”

Marinette signs and sinks down against her bathroom cabinets. “I don’t feel okay.”

The two are quiet for a moment, taking in the possible severity of her words, and then Chloe is responding with, “We will feel not-okay together, Dupain-Cheng, and that better be enough.”

“It’s enough.” She doesn’t know if this is true, but she’s sure about something else:

It has to be.

“Okay, okay, okay…” Chloe says—roaringly drunk and altogether pleased about it. She handles her alcohol worryingly well, not that anyone was brave enough to address that particular issue with her (or her father) (and definitely not her mother).

They’ve watched every single Pitch Perfect movie in the safety of Marinette’s room, and then the Bourgeois girl had her driver come pick them up to bring them to Le Grand Paris where Marinette skipped her shift at the bakery  to watch Legally Blonde. 

“Your favorite character isn’t allowed to be Elle Woods.” Chloe states.

Kagami blinks at her crush (Marinette won’t tell that little secret, even wasted), just as drunk but slurring all her words and no longer allowed to have another drink or take a walk on her own. “Why, why not?”

“Because she’s my favorite character, Gami. That’s why.”

“Someone gets feisty when she’s drunk.” Marinette muses, swirling her drink around one of Chloe’s favorite gold-rimmed glasses. It shows that she’s rich. “Take a chill pill, Chlo.”

“Suck my dick, Mari.”

Marinette giggles, shaking her head. “That’s Kagami’s job.”

This makes the two girls shriek in laughter, Chloe hiding her face in Kagami’s shoulder, and then immediately hushing everyone but her own loud self to hear Elle fulling shut down her soon to be ex-boyfriend, motioning out with her arm, mocking the dialogue.

The night took a good turn indeed.

“At the next akuma attack—” Because of course there’s going to be one. “—I do not want you to use your miraculous cure.” Tikki instructs  “I want you to heal all the damage without it.”

Marinette is busy choking on her toothpaste, having sharply inhaled from the shock of the kwami phasing into her mirror. The mirror dimension scares her, so she doesn’t ask about it. She blinks at the mirror, disturbed by the blue hollows staring back at her.

“And then use the cure?”

Tikki does what she could only describe as a shadow shrug where she fades out for a second around her head. “If you must.”

“I can’t leave Paris destroyed, T.”

The goddess stares at her as if she knows something that the heroine doesn’t—and she definitely does—and her static presence recedes a bit. “Nobody said you had to.”

Marinette hums in reply, and that’s that. Apparently, she has to fail in order to succeed.

How annoying.

Dupain-Cheng
Bonjour, mon Damian!
My parents have realized that we’re actually friends (?) so they’d like to meet you (and maybe Jon, later) since we’re gonna be in person together during the second semester (!!!) they gotta give you ‘the Dupain-Cheng’ check.

Damian !!!
Must I? They sound paranoid and neglectful simultaneously all of the time.
How would I meet them?

Dupain-Cheng
Face time?

Dupain-Cheng
In like two days, maybe. Can we do it at least once together beforehand - if you’re agreeing at all ??
I don’t want the first time to be w my parents

Damian !!!
What is the importance?

Dupain-Cheng
Face to face seems like a big step when someone is as private as you
If it’s not, can we do it later today ?

Dupain-Cheng
I’m kind of interested in seeing if the tabloids did you justice. There’s no way your whole family is actually that gorgeous

Damian !!!
Gorgeous?

Dupain-Cheng
You all look like gods. Like, yeah, some of you have physical ‘imperfections’ and only ur dad and your lil sister (right?) fits the american white dream looks
But you are all literally so attractive regardless and like you’re intimidating on your own, Damian, but knowing you look like *that* is a whole different level of intimidating

Damian !!!
I don’t understand what you mean.

Dupain-Cheng
Um.

Dupain-Cheng
Ask Jon?

Damian !!!
When I see him next.

Marinette’s face is on fire.

Of all the days to accidentally let it slip how handsome she thinks Damian Wayne— the Damian Wayne—is, she firmly regrets it being the day she’s spending the night at Kim’s. He’ll pull the news from her faster than she could blink. Which is disturbing, for someone keeping so many secrets.

And she definitely didn’t think it would be a product of a conversation about her parents either.

That’s embarrassing.

Damian !!!
I will meet your parents on one (1) condition.

Dupain-Cheng
!!!
Name your price

Damian !!!
You let me order a commission from your new business.

Damian !!!
I have to attend a charity gala. Whichever of my siblings get the most praise for their outfit gets to ask Pennyworth to make them the cookies of their choice.
I am determined to win.

Dupain-Cheng
Why are you so sure that I will make you win?

Damian !!!
It’s theme night.

Dupain-Cheng
So

Damian !!!
When you shared photos earlier, the ones of your designs for fashion week and your add-ons to Fashion Queen’s were more than adequate. Even the small details and aspects of the design were well thought out.

Damian !!!
Cain would also like to request a commission. She is the only one I have informed about you. She is now aware of your abilities, Jon is the one that suggested we commission you. I was hesitant because it seems unwise to use close acquaintances as business partners.
I’m sure that you can manage it.

Close acquaintances.

That’s what Damian said; and Marinette Dupain-Cheng is more than aware that by that he means friends and by friends he means you are one of two and by that, she likes to think of herself as special. And she likes being able to call herself special for more reasons than her earrings or the needles at her fingertips.

She squeals.

Dupain-Cheng
AHHHHHHH OKAY

Dupain-Cheng
I’m okay
Is it teams? You and Cassandra?

Damian !!!
No. But I support her winning equally. She is the only one of my family I think are not bastards, at the moment. Her, Silena and Helena. I do not count Kent.

Dupain-Cheng
Will she share the cookies w you ??

Damian !!!
It is not about the cookies. It is about the victory.
It is not enough knowing they are nervous due to this being the first time I’m actively competing against them at a themed event like this. I need to dominate them.

Dupain-Cheng
In a healthy way … ?

Damian !!!
Kent agrees to it.

Dupain-Cheng
Okay!

Dupain-Cheng
What’s the theme ???
It better be fun !

Damian !!!
Greek/Roman gods.

Damian !!!
Once a god is chosen, it is added to Father’s charity website so there is not more than one (Greek/Roman counterparts are accepted). It is a good system. I am not going to match with anyone, or they will most likely get stabbed. The media will be too invested, I will not appreciate someone that close to me.

Dupain-Cheng
OH MY gOD
WHO ARE YOU GONNA BE??? ??!?
WHO IS YOUR FAMILY GOING AS? OH MY GOD !!! CAN YOU ASK YOUR DAD TO ADOPT ME? I WANT THIS LIFE!! PLS

Damian !!!
For the love of al-Lat herself, do not even suggest that. He has adopted enough children already.

Damian !!!
I am going as Zagreus.
Cain is going as Macaria.

Damian !!!
We decided to be Aidoneous and Kore’s children out of homage to my Father, who is going as ‘Persephone’. Kyle is going as ‘Hades’ and Helena is dressing up as Melione.
I am very pleased with my little sister’s designs.

Damian !!!
Grayson and Koriand’r are going as Aphrodite and Ares. Mar’i is going as Enyo.
Todd is going as Athena.
Drake and Dowd are going as Nyx and Dionysus.
Brown is going as Hecate.
Thomas is going as Hermera.
Barbara is going as Metis.

Dupain-Cheng
Every time I think I like being your friend, I’m proven to be wrong.
I LOVE being your friend, Damian <3

Dupain-Cheng
You’re the one that suggested who they should be, aren’t you ?? You love greek mythology, I can’t see you passing up that opportunity even when you are upset with them 

Damian !!!
I am.

Dupain-Cheng
I knew it.
Give me your ideas pls ! I’d love to do this !!! When do you need it done? I can start working on it right away! Do you have recent measurements already done? I can’t exactly fly out there

Dupain-Cheng
I cannot describe how much I love that you are Zagreus, and just, like, everyone fits? Jason as Athena? Barbara as Metis? I love and hate that. No. I just love it

Dupain-Cheng
WAIT IS HE GOING BLOND

Damian !!!
He is wearing grey contact lens and has something he’s spraying in his hair to make it look blond-ish. I did not care so I didn’t pay full attention.
I will send you my measurements.

Dupain-Cheng
Okay !
Are you still 178cm ??
Sorry - 5’8”
Smh… americans

Damian !!!
No.
I will have the fabrics and any supplies you want sent to your house. It needs to be impressive, but please do not make either of ours bright. I’m sure you will do fine.

Dupain-Cheng
Okay ! :D

Dupain-Cheng
How tall are you now

Damian !!!
196cm. Give or take decibel placement.
I was measured before asking you and did not realize that I had grown over the summer.

Dupain-Cheng
YOURE WHAT
nO

Damian !!!
Excuse me?

Dupain-Cheng
We were short together, Damian :/
Why’d you grow ???
:(

Damian !!!
Sorry to disappoint.

Kim sniffs out her nervousness like a dog.

He waits until her guard is down and she’s happily kicking his ass playing Ultimate Mecha Strike III —switching between that and Mario Kart —to talk to her about it. The photographer crosses his arms, grinning as though he didn’t get absolutely demolished.

Marinette immediately narrows her eyes at him. “What?”

“So.” He whistles. “Damian Al Ghul, huh?”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’ve been smiling a little bit too much at your phone lately, Mari.” Grey eyebrows get wiggled in her direction, and Kim isn’t even attempting to be vague about it. He goes right for the kill: “Do you or do you not have a crush on him?”

“Kim!”

“ Marinette! ” He mocks in return. “I even asked Nino, because I know I can see the romance in everything. Your relationship with Damian is a lot different than it is with both of us… and I just wanna know how deep it goes. And if it is a crush, I wanna know about it, y’know?”

Her blue eyes flick between his, feeling suddenly awkward in front of him. “Is it… do you think it would be bad, if I did? He barely was able to handle a friend.”

“So imagine if he found out?” Kim echoes her own thoughts. “What’s so wrong with that?”

“It’s just scary.” Marinette says, sighing. “How am I, like, supposed to get over him when I can’t ask for closure, and I definitely don’t expect a relationship from him? And I’m not even sure if I have a full crush on him or if I just really, really like him. It feels nothing like what happened with Adrien.”

“So you do have a crush on him!”

“Ugh! Kim .”

He waves her off, smiling an apology. “How does it feel different?”

“It’s like, I don’t know. It wasn’t this instant big thing. No ‘aha’ moment. Just like, sometimes I think it would be nice if me and him were more, and then other times we’re talking or I text him good morning after not talking for a few days, and I think that we are still good as just friends.”

The heroine throws a hand in the air, flopping back onto the couch, head hitting on the cushion. 

He wiggles his eyebrows at her from his spot on the floor. “But then you go back to wanting more?”

“Yeah.” Marinette shrugs. “Sometimes, it just feels right.”

A pause, hesitance, where he isn’t quite sure what to say. He settles on “Sometimes?” after opening his mouth and closing it twice. Kim is quite emotionally intelligent, but he still struggles sometimes to make sure that he’s reading even his best friends right.

“Well, all the time. But it really only gets to me when I think about it, or when he praises me.” She’s flushing now, turning that horrible bright pink. “It’s just confusing. I know how I have crushes, and this isn’t it. Maybe I don’t actually like him? Maybe we’re just good friends.”

“Maybe you don’t have a crush on Damian.” Kim shrugs. “Maybe you’re in love with him.”

Marinette balks. “ What .”

“Yeah, I mean think about it. I know you, and you know you. This isn’t how you have crushes. But you can think about you both together romantically, and you like it, and you’re comfortable with him. You can share with him and you think he’s a good person. Every time you talk to him, you smile… yeah. It’d make sense that you’re in love.”

He nods like this all makes sense.

It doesn’t.

“Because you’re uncomfortable when you have a crush, like it’s something wrong. Y’know, you get all nervous and jittery like you’re on the run and they’re the police. Remember in sophomore year, you told me crushes don’t feel safe because you use them to day-dream, and then you see the person and it feels too real.”

“Yeah.” Marinette pouts at this. “Why?”

“Does Damian feel real to you?”

She nervously shifts. “Yeah.”

“And you like that?”

“Um, yeah.”

“And you want to be with him.”

“Maybe?”

“You like him romantically.”

“Yeah.”

“All of the time?”

“Yes. Get a move on.”

“Alright!” Kim throws both hands up, almost like he’s celebrating. “Then you’re in love. It’s decided. Should we tell Nino now, or wait for him to get home from work?”

“Oh, he’s spending the night?” They all call the Le Chien apartment ‘home’. It’s where their Just Dance games are, and their Wii. Marinette shakes the thoughts away, knowing she’s getting off track. “You don’t get to decide if I’m in love, I get to decide if I’m in love!”

Her best friend blinks at her like he’s innocent. Which is bullshit, and they both know it. “Then are you in love?”

“I don’t know…” She hesitates, then shrugs, turning to face the TV once again before standing up, going to switch out UMS III for Super Mario Bros . “Lemme think about it.”

“Okie doke.” A pause, and Kim tugs at the cuffs of her pants. “I just want what’s best for you, Cupcake.”

The heroine smiles down at him, poking him on the nose. “I know, Dino. Thank you. Now, get ready, because that just made me rather blood thirsty.”

“Please don’t throw me at Bowser again.” He winces.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

She would.

Chapter Text

Ladybug is not perfect.

Marinette knew that Chat Noir had a flaw, with his mockery and self-sacrifice, that Ryuko was sometimes too merciless and strict. And Abeille is confident, which often turns into her being cocky, and messing up. Viperion was too focused while Carapace was unfocused.

But she had never thought about what could Ladybug’s flaws could be. Does she have them? She knows that Marinette does, but before, Ladybug was Paris’ favorite, untouchable. Perfect. The heroine didn’t know that there would be bigger dangers to her than Hawkmoth.

Her own mind is damaging.

The first time that Marinette met Master Fu, she was twelve years old and scared, by Tikki’s appearance and her own account.

Chat Noir was a few days away from making an appearance, Rena Rogue wasn’t picked yet and Ladybug still stood in front of Paris, the Eiffel Tower, the world, the sun—casting them into her shadow—and started to learn about all the previous Bugs that Tikki had.

She followed in the whispers of those brave few, the itch of justice and bravery in the back of her mind until she was solid in step, chin raised, in place, their leader. 

And she is a good leader, by all accounts.

Ladybug, like all the stories and myths she had searched up and listened to from her kwami, stared—mask covering her blue eyes, bright red glistening along her suit, a stern line to the edge of her lips—and at first, Marinette was scared. But then she breathed out, and back in, and went higher.

The higher you go, the clearer it all is.

She watched and waited, and took in all the movements of her team (back then: Chat Noir, Carapace and Rena Rogue) and their shouted words, the way they trained and saved others time and time again, and applied their tips to herself with ease.

This is how you hide in the light , she thought. This is how you prove yourself.

Peace is not a thing that is given or earned, it is something that is made, and sometimes, it seems easier in the light—everything is bright, and clean, and pure. But there is safety in the darkness. Darkness can wrap you up in it like a blanket, instead of pulling at you like the light.

She didn’t know that until now. So no, Ladybug is not perfect.

But Marinette Dupain-Cheng wishes she was.

It’s midnight for her, which means it’s six in the morning for Damian, when a text pings through her phone—she’s awake because she’s working on Damian’s outfit for the Gala while Chloe paints her toenails a dusty gold a few feet away—which makes her head spin.

Am I in love with him?

“You going to answer that, Dupain-Cheng? Or should I answer him myself?”

“As if, Bourgeois.” Marinette glares, but is rather thankful for the way Chloe was able to knock her out of her thoughts. Her and the blonde have been getting closer lately, a lot closer than she ever was with Alya, and it’s scary. She wants to tell her about the confusion.

But the past ache is still in the back of her mind, wondering if Chloe will just make fun of her.

Instead, she checks her phone.

Damian !!! (Wayne-Al Ghul) sent a link .

[[         [email protected]

         Topic: Nicknames

You could go on the same vibe: Devil, Satan, Imp, Pixie, Fae, Vampire (lol), Jinn, Ghost, Brute
Or on the opposite vibe: Saint, God(ess), Angel, Softie, Fae (same), Guardian, Deity

Stuff like that?       ]]

Dupain-Cheng
???
Is this code or smthng

Damian !!!
We never started this.
It is important to you.

“You’re blushing.” Chloe says, sounding bored, but her blue eyes are piercing through Marinette. “Why are you blushing? I thought you were over Adrien.”

Their group chat has been blowing up all night.

Marinette nods, pressing the back of her hand against her cheek. “I am. It’s just, Damian is being nice, and I’m a sucker for people who are nice to me. Even you have made me blush before, Chlo. Just, very, very recently. When your outer bitch became your inner bitch.”

“Thanks, Mari.”

“No problem!”

Dupain-Cheng
You didn’t start using the nickname we picked for me, so I thought you were uncomfy w it and dropped it
Bc w everything else between us you were like, on top of it yk
Like even w texting/calling - when I asked to do it more, you weren’t the happiest camper, but you still did it bc it didn’t make you uncomfy and you knew you’d adjust quickly

Dupain-Cheng
So to me it’s for a good reason that this didn’t like, start up

Damian !!!
We had been emailing that the night I had gotten a concussion due to one of the Gotham villains attacking Wayne Enterprises. I hadn’t known what I agreed to; I do not appreciate that you would let someone agree to something for you and then not do it without addressing them.

Dupain-Cheng
One of the first things I told you about me was that I’m a coward !!!

Damian !!!
That is no excuse.

Dupain-Cheng
How did you even find that ???

Dupain-Cheng
That email is from March of last year

Damian !!!
Your point?

Dupain-Cheng
That it’s September of this year?

Damian !!!
Get to your point, Dupain-Cheng.

Dupain-Cheng
I don’t know what you want from me right now
I’m really happy that you care but I’m anxious that you seem upset about it
And I don’t know where to go with this conversation :((

Damian !!!
Would you like some conversational options or for me to express what my original goal was when I sent you the email?

Dupain-Cheng
Um
Goal please

Damian !!!
I wanted to instruct you to not allow someone to backtrack on their promises to you.
If someone promises something that is against their own boundaries, it is their duty to tell you such things and correct it themselves, not go against what is proper to you.

Damian !!!
Secondly, I wanted to ask if you want to start using nicknames, as I have agreed to prior.

Dupain-Cheng
Are you still comfortable with that?

Damian !!!
this is Jon!!!!
hi Mari !!
he handed me the phone to be able to say what he can’t!! don’t panic!! I didn’t read ur convo I just know what it’s about n am able to help bc he’s nervous about these things but dw, I got u both

Dupain-Cheng
Hi Jon !!
Okay :D

Damian !!!
he isn’t comfy w being called a demon anymore bc of the way it makes him view himself
even tho we r working on it, it only isnt bad when he hears it out loud w/o a ‘bad’ tone of voice
so u can call him demon or likewise when ur talking over the phone/he can hear ur voice but not over text or any place he has to imagine the way that ur saying it

Damian !!!
make sense
?

Dupain-Cheng
It makes sense!!
I will absolutely follow that boundary!! Can I have you read my idea for a nickname to gauge his reaction first before he gets to it ??? I don’t want to make him feel worse !
:/

Damian !!!
absolutely
um
i’ll text u

-

Jon !
gimme

Mari !
You know how Damian is a sucker for the classics and especially greek related things? I’m thinking about calling him ‘Brute’ as in “Et tu, Brute?” as in “Even you, my Brutus” but it doesn’t mean a betrayal, it means the trust of it being Brutus, you know?

Jon !
Oh ik

Mari !
But I don’t want him to take it like I think he’s going to betray me!! I want him to take it like, I met him in a time where I felt v betrayed by my friends and he was kind of like my Brutus, and we had that one moment that Lila got between us bc I freaked out

Jon !
i can help explain it to him too

Jon !
its not about u being betrayed
its about him being involved in the situation but outside of it
n u trust him
???

Mari !
Yeah

Mari !
And, not to be rude, but he is normal a bit brutal to strangers and it has a double meaning where I know he’s seen as a brute I know know very well that he’s not

Jon !
ur adorable
can i tell him ur adorable
??

Mari !
Sure?

Mari !
Can you explain this all to him in a way yk he’d understand pls?

Jon !
thx and will do

Jon !
ope
hes glaring at me now i gtg
bye Mari ill talk to u soon !!!
<3 <3 <3

Mari !
Bye Jon !!!
<3

-

Dupain-Cheng
Thoughts on Brute?

Damian !!!
It’s acceptable. I will be able to get used to you calling me it. You clearly put thought into it, Kent tells me to mention that it is appreciated.

Dupain-Cheng
Did you still want to match?

Damian !!!
I still want to call you Angel.

Dupain-Cheng
You can call me Angel, Damian :)
You’re very kind for doing this for me

Damian !!!
I am not kind

Dupain-Cheng
Do you really want to argue about that with both me AND Jon ???

Damian !!!
I do not. I will change your contact and what I call you to appropriately match. Goodnight, Dupain-Cheng.

Dupain-Cheng
Goodnight Damian!!!! <3

Jon !
he’s smiling rn btw
good job

Marinette is so regretful that she’s not alone right now.

If she was alone, she’d press her face down into her carpet and kick her feet and scream or squeal, or any overreaction in-between because she’s making Damian smile and she hates that maybe Kim, of all people, is right, and now she just has to stare at her phone, trying not to react.

The heroine nods to herself, taking a small breath in.

She’s got this.

Angel changed Damian !!! ’s nickname to Brute

Marinette hesitates.

Should she? Knowing him, he won’t say anything, or just ask Jon about it. But she wants to.

“For the love of god, Marinette, whatever you’re tapping your foot about,” Chloe grabs onto Marinette’s bouncing ankle, glaring at her enough that she actually sinks back a little. “Just do it already.”

The heroine glares at the queen-bee. “I will if you let go.”

“And you’ll stop bouncing.”

“ Or I will bite you.”

Chloe scoffs, and settles a leveled look onto her. “You’re hiding something.”

“And back to my phone I go!” Marinette squeaks.

Angel changed Brute ’s nickname to Brute <3

“Not so hard, was it, Dupain-Cheng.”

“You’d know, Bourgeois.”

The two girls look at each other and then Chloe just starts smirking, glancing back down to her drying nails, leaning over to blow on them. “Is Damian flirting with you?”

Marinette is able to smirk right back. “Does Kagami flirt with you?”

The blonde starts and it makes her giggle, holding herself as she moves back into her comfortable position, picking back her sewing needle. She’s able to add a few stitches into her logo, one of the last things that she does, without Chloe saying anything.

Finally, Chloe rolls her eyes. “Whatever.”

Marinette smiles to herself. It’s the small victories.

After the first facetime—on Marinette’s way home from Nino’s after school, during Damian’s breakfast hour—which went smoothly, it was time for Damian to ‘meet’ her parents. He is a lot more tense, shoulders squared and pinched up, when he answers.

He’s already glaring.

“ Bonjour, mon Damian,” She says, standing by the hatch in her room. “We’re alone for right now. I wanted to give you a chance to make this feel normal, before you meet them. They can be a lot.”

“You are wearing blue today.” He says simply.

“I am.” She agrees with a smile, taking him in too. Hard green eyes. Sharp jawline. Black turtleneck. Attractive. “Are turtlenecks your thing?”

He arches an (unfairly perfect) eyebrow. “My thing?”

“Like, pigtails are my thing. I always have them-”

Damian’s glare sharpens. “You don’t like wearing pigtails, Dupain-Cheng. They make you feel insecure and as if you are immature when you are not. Why are you wearing them? Especially enough for them to be considered ‘your thing’ by others.”

“Well, but, it’s my thing,” She outs, shuffling nervously. “If I stop wearing them all of a sudden, people will ask questions.”

“Marinette, you don’t owe a single person an answer.”

She huffs. “Except for you, apparently.” The Al Ghul boy smirks at her like it’s a good thing. “What?”

“You’re nervous.”

“And?”

“ And take your hair out of the pigtails, Dupain-Cheng.” Damian instructs. “You are not getting away with that when I am here. Aren’t we supposed to—” He quotes her and Jon’s mocking, from their first and last shared phone call. “—make each other better and hold each other to productive standards where we respect our own boundaries.”

“Did you remember that, just to mock me?”

“Yes. Fix your hair.”

The heroine pouts. “But-”

“Angel.”

Squeaking, Marinette fumbles with her phone, nearly dropping it right down the hatch. Her heart literally jumped! at that. “Don’t scold me!” She manages, past how flustered she is. “I’ll take it out if you introduce yourself to my parents instead of me doing it.”

“I work in the press for my father’s company.” He deadpans. “That won’t be a problem.”

“I played myself!” She gasps.

The smirk he has is wider now. Genuine, and annoying. “You did.”

Ignoring that she is a… fan of his voice, and face, Marinette changes the topic, grinning. “I hope you’re ready for my parents. They’re going to give you the Dupain-Cheng treatment. It’s going to be unbearable.”

“Why?” His face falls, and Marinette thinks, victory!

“You know how you describe Jon and Stephanie to me?” She asks.

“...yes.”

“Combine them.”

“Fuck.”

“Yes, ma’am, I will.” Damian responds. 

He’s been promising Maman and Papa on repeat for nearly five minutes, that he will take care of Marinette while she’s in Gotham—which does seem like one of the most unreasonable places to have a month-long field trip. Well. Second to Paris, anyway.

For the first week, she’ll be staying at the hotel with her class, but for the rest of the time, she’s gotten permission to stay at the Wayne Manor from the school, Damian’s dad, and her parents. This is if they mess in person as much as they do online, and only if she feels safe.

Chloe will be there the whole time, sharing her hotel room for her to come back to, if ever she needs to change her mind.

“And you’re sure?” Papa asks, leaning onto the counter where Marinette’s phone is stabilized with a flour bag. “You promise.”

“Sir,” Damian says—and Marinette thinks that only she knows he’s still being pleasant. “I would not state something of such consequence if I was not sure of it.”

“You will protect her?” He confirms, one last time, like he doesn’t have ears. It’s easy for her to see where she gets her worry from, for many reasons but this being the main one, she’s scared to become like her parents.

Damian sighs. “With my life.”

“Oh?” Maman slips more into the camera’s line of sight, eyebrow arched. “With your life? I thought you said you two aren’t ‘romantically involved’, Mr. Wayne. Do you like my-”

“Maman!” Marinette scolds her mother. “Don’t ask him such things.”

“And why not?”

“Because! It’s embarrassing for us both when we’re pestered by one of our parents. It doesn’t matter whether he likes me or not, he’s my friend and he’s going to make sure that I’m okay in Gotham just like he would anyone else.” Protesting this, her point certainly isn’t helped by Damian mumbling out no I wouldn’t .

Her mom crosses her arm, cocking out a hip. “Uh huh. He doesn’t seem like the helpful type.”

“That’s rude.”

“Correct, ma’am.”

Papa cracks up at this, and it’s about time that she grabs her phone off the counter and rushes up the stairs with bright red cheeks when he turns to Maman, teasing in that overbearing way of his, “What kind of cake should we make for their wedding? Do you think he’s a cherry kind of guy?”

“I don’t know, mon amore,” Her mom teases right back. “But I know she’s the chocolate type of girl.”

After what seems like twenty minutes of pure embarrassment, Marinette finally slams the latch shut of her room and throws her phone onto her chaise, collapsing onto it with a muffled scream into the pillow. Of all the ways that could have gone…

“Angel?

“Ugh!” She lifts her head up fast enough that it spins, and grabs her phone to hold between both outstretched hands. “I even asked them not to ask you that!”

Damian’s head tilts just a little bit to the side. Less like a puppy, and more like a cat. “You asked them not to ask me if I like you? Of course I tolerate you—” She notices the change of words, and pouts. “—you have grown on me. Unfortunately.”

“‘Unfortunately’ because you eat up that Lone Wolf act maybe, mon Brute.” Marinette scoffs. “I didn’t want them to force you into a corner emotionally.”

“Explain.”

“Because, like, if you didn’t like me then you might be scared to ruin your first impression and make my parents feel bad, especially since they tied it into you keeping me safe, which I know is partly out of your control and mostly up to fate, but still…”

Turning over onto her back, she sits up and crosses her legs under her. Damian hears the pause and hums to show that he’s listening, face down, probably reading something or sharpening one of his blades.

“And if you did like me, you surely aren’t admitting it to yourself let alone me and my parents in one go. I say that because I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t let yourself fall for someone you still think is capable of leaving you, you know? The way you do that whole ‘emotional safety’ thing.”

Now, Damian’s green eyes flick up to where his phone screen is. “What are you talking about.”

“The way you push everyone away from you?” Her nose wrinkles. “You did it to me when we first met. And from the way you talk about it, Jon and Dick, and Stephaine too. Probably the rest of your family, since you don’t break a lot of patterns either.”

“I don’t…” He huffs. “I will have to think about this, and talk to Jon. I did not realize what Grayson has been saying has any truth behind it.”

Marinette winks. “Nothing like an outside perspective to give you some clarity, huh?”

There’s a pause and hesitance, and then he asks, “Would me liking you be a bad thing? I heard it is an unspoken rule of friendship from Jon, and that most teenage boys expect romantic companionship from their female peers. I find it despicable. But I find that we are different.”

And god, if that didn’t make her head feel like it was exploding.

Marinette flushes just a bit, but feels more relaxed talking about it than she would have expected. She’s more nervous when being observed by her friends. 

“I don’t think there’d be anything wrong with it.” I like you, her mind rages. I like you . “It’s not a rule of friendship, it’s just best to be open and communicate about everything. Check where your boundaries are, where the other person’s is too. We have pretty good communication habits, I think, it wouldn’t be the end of us.”

He’s not looking at her again, facing down. She notices this time that his shoulder isn’t moving—he’s facing being busy (and she feels hope grow in her chest). “Where are your boundaries with it?”

“I’m…” She barely knows how to respond to this. “I’m not against it?”

“Alright.” Suddenly, he’s facing up and looking right at the screen “Thank you, Dupain-Cheng. I’m hanging up and going to converse with my father to double check that your arrangements during your stay are acceptable. Have a good night.”

“Okay!” Marinette smiles, despite the way she feels a bit confused. “I’ll text you later, Damian! Bye!”

“Goodbye.”

She falls back against her chaise, arms spread out and eyes wide. It’s the first time that she thought that he could like her back, actually like her back. And she feels ecstatic and scared, and is trying so hard to believe the words that she just told him.

It won’t be the end of us, it echoes in her mind. It won’t be the end.

“She invited me to this part that Lila is throwing at Le Grand Paris , which isn’t a problem in itself but Gabriel is paying for it and Adrien is there as her plus one so I think it will be exhausting having to justify everything that I’m doing. I don’t want to deal with how I’ll be treated if I don’t go, either.”

Marinette really wishes that her class wasn’t so full of drama.

Madam Bustier hasn’t really changed since Freshman year, the last time that she had her, and she very much wishes that she wasn’t the teacher she got for Senior year, but beggars can’t be choosers. At least she doesn’t have to deal with another year of Mr. Kale’s droning during homeroom.

“It’s literally our private ‘we can drink now, and also, welcome back to school’ party.” Not that she was really interested in drinking in such an uncontrolled environment. Her ideal setting was in the corner of her room, watching Ghibli movies, huddled under a blanket. “Even Luka is going!”

She’s talking about Alya.

But also, she’s really not—just the problems that she tends to spawn into Marinette’s life.

“Like, yeah, I think he’s coming to supervise because of Juleka being there, but like, he’s him . There’s going to be music. He’s going to enjoy it.” A huff. “I don’t think I can keep doing this, being her friend when it’s making me worry so much about everything.”

Damian hums. “Do you still feel as if you are pretending to be her friend?”

“Aren’t I?” The heroine exclaims, exasperated. 

She’s pacing around her room, rubbing at her forehead: stressed. Damian brings a little comfort, but frustrating things are frustrating whether you’re around the people you’re comfortable with or not.

“I wouldn’t have started talking to her again at all if Nino wasn’t dating her. Hell, she didn’t even realize we weren’t friends anymore until Nino pointed it out last year. I mean, I think she’s toxic and she’s too involved with Lila. It gives me so much anxiety to think about them talking about me behind my back.:

Alya is very rarely a part of her Friday phone-call rants. It’s too triggering for Marinette to talk about, even when it’s with someone as calming to her as Damian is. So like now, when she’s already upset, that’s when she lets it out.

“Is there any preventative for this?”

“Not with Lila,” With a sigh, Marinette flops down on her desk chair, turning to rest her feet against her bubblegum-wall. “Plus the most people who are going to be there are our classmates, and Lila’s secret boyfriend, as if she doesn’t flirt with Adrien every chance she gets.”

“That bothers you?”

For some reason, Damian’s voice is unreasonably tense, as if Marinette had just said something to piss him off—and as much as she’s worth, Marinette maintains that he doesn’t get upset easily. He’s just so bottled up that when he does get upset, he gets really upset.

She is careful as she speaks. “Does what bother me? Lila? I mean, yeah, but-”

“No.” He speaks sternly. Her mouth snaps shut. “Does her flirting with Agreste bother you?”

“Only because she claims to have a boyfriend, and then uses one of my friends because she’s lonely and won’t admit it. Not because someone is flirting with him .” A part of her wishes she never told him that.

“You no longer have a crush on him?”

“No, that’s, that’s long over.” Her heart pounds, and it echoes in her ears. “Why is that important to you, Damian?”

Silence meets her, and then he is scoffing, shuffling on his end before saying, “I will have to speak to Jon about this.” He’s been saying this a lot lately. “We are still acquaintances, Dupain-Cheng. I can assure  you about that.”

She wasn’t worried about that before, but she definitely is now.

“Alright.” She pauses before asking, “Should I keep talking about it?”

“Can you even? You tend to lose verbal momentum after someone interrupts your flow, or the conversation at hand.” Damian informs.

Marinette didn’t even know that he knew that about her. “That’s… true. Can I rant about the dumb dress code instead?”

“Of course, Angel.”

“Seniors have to wear green and black. Green!”

Damian though, he… he kind of reminded Marinette of this forest that her parents took her to once, when she was little. It was this huge forest, and her dad insisted that they would be fine to camp there, but Marinette was cold all night and slept under five blankets.

There was ice on their car in the morning, and Maman got mad over it.

The trees that she stared at all night—a little bit too scared to fall asleep and a little bit too interested in the stars to ignore them—are just like his eyes, and the way that he stared at Marinette wasn’t something that she typically experienced, even from Lila or Hawkmoth. 

It was like he was unraveling her slowly. Like he was pulling her apart at the seams. She was terrified to realize she fell in love again.

It’s only made worse to think Kim’s right.

Chapter Text

When the American customers talked about Marinette, they scoffed and puffed up their chests, and sometimes questioned in angry English why a child was serving them. The French understood what it was like to help your parents, but Americans are different. Some of the men looked her over and saw not a person, they went legs-hips-chest-mouth-eyes.

A little girl, running France’s best bakery, a little girl, telling them to get out , a little girl—

That little girl is Ladybug.

She remembers the day, not to long ago, when she was with Abeille, Ryuko, Viperion, Carapace—Chloe Bourgeois, Kagami Tsurugi, Luka Couffaine, Nino Lahiffe—and Chat Noir, the wild card, and they were all tired. Three akumas and one amok in a day, transformed from eleven in the morning to six in the afternoon, twenty-two recharges between them.

Exhausted. 

They were all exhausted.

And they were sitting around the top of a building, staring at each other, sighing and talking in tired voices.

“So…” Carapace asked, voice tired. He knows he’s not allowed to ask super personal questions, but he’s not above questioning a single one of them—not even Ladybug. “How old are you guys?”

“Careful.” Ryuko warned, turning to Ladybug for instructions.

She sighed. “You can answer.”

Abeille, Carapace and Chat Noir were seventeen, Ryuko was eighteen, Viperion was nineteen. And Ladybug was sixteen. It made them all look at her differently, staring at her, realizing that she’s still a child by their own laws, that this little girl was their leader, a little girl, the next guardian.

At the next fight, she fought with Chat Noir over whether or not she should be more careful, and remembers how angry she was at it all. They were all kids when they started, every single one of them. They just had the luxury of growing up, and she was about to, her birthday that July, but couldn’t tell them that.

Ladybug made sure they all had fresh tea and coffee when they went out to patrol (made sure they knew they could always stop into Tom & Sabine’s Boulangerie Patisserie for something. She looked at her suit in the mirror and how she stood out in the crowd of her peers.

Bright red, standing in the front. Bright red, like a child. Bright, like she’s not supposed to be.

“Is it time for a change, Marinette?” Tikki asked, moving to appear behind Ladybug, cloudy her design with her dark mauve energy—and suddenly, Marinette could envision Ladybug with black running along her, her red darker and just over her chest, mask and hands, the dots bigger.

She went out every day and became Ladybug not because she had to—everyone is capable of becoming a hero—but because she wanted to. She was destined for this because she chose it. 

Fate didn’t have a say, not here.

“I know I’m not supposed to be bright,” She had responded. “But what if it’s too dark.”

Everything in her life was lining itself up into a rigid line: Ladybug, work, commissions, pen-pal, friends, school, parents, classmates. What Tikki wanted wasn’t on the list, because she was a god, and what she wanted wasn’t considered because it would happen anyway .

“For you?” Her hum had vibrated the mirror, and Ladybug detransformed. “Impossible.”

“What if I look like Anti-Bug?”

“Then it will act like a warning.”

“But, Tikki-”

“It changes based on you.” The shadow slipped away from Marinette, and she could breathe a little bit easier now. “What you want will show. Do not be afraid to look like yourself.”

Marinette had wanted, briefly, like a longing passion, to quit. But, in the same way, she has never wished that she said no—that she didn’t take the miraculous, or meet Tikki, or become the guardian. This thing, being a hero, it’s the most freeing thing in the world.

It lets her shoot up to the stars, lets her climb higher, and for a really long time she separated herself from Ladybug; because Ladybug is smart, and confident, and knows how to talk to people, she can glare without fear, and tell others what to do, and Marinette can’t do any of that.

But here’s the thing, she couldn’t do any of that because she didn’t want to .

Because she put that restriction on herself.

It’s simple now, really, when she’s looking at it like she’s not trying to hate herself, when she’s looking at it like Tikki does. Like how she’s supposed to. So it’s simple. She’s Ladybug and Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and two plus two equals four, and her favorite color is pink, and the sky is blue.

And they were never supposed to be separate parts of the equation.

Senior year starts unremarkably.

A part of Marinette feels weird, she feels like it should have been so much more important of a day, starting the last first day of high school, and so when she walked into Francoise Dupont, feeling tired and normal, it was almost disappointing.

“Isn’t supposed to feel like ‘sha-bang!’ not like ‘bleh’.” She complains to Nino, who nods in agreement. Kim, on the other hand, is bouncing next to them, full of energy—she reminds herself not to be spiteful that he’s not a hero and gets to sleep in for akuma attacks. “What’s got you so excited?”

“Nothing! It’s just kicking in that this is the year I’m gonna meet Lyta!” He grins, wiggling his eyebrows over to his best friends. “And you’re gonna meet Al Ghul! And Steak, you’re gonna meet Emiko, but that’s half as exciting.”

Nino rolls his eyes, and reaches up to fix his hat. “Thanks.”

“Welcome!”

“How do you think the class is gonna sit this year?” Nino asks. “‘Cause dude, if I have to sit behind Ivan and Mylene again this year while they sweet talk each other, I’m jumping out of the window.”

Marinette giggles. “You could sit behind Juleka and Rose?”

“Oh, like that’s any better.”

“C’mon you two, chip up,” While saying this, Kim wraps an arm around both of their shoulders, pulling them into him—crushing him into his chest. “This year is gonna be really fun!”

Nino and Marinette make eye contact, and faces, at each other that sum up it’s not really gonna be that cool and yeah, think of all the tests . Sure, they’re gonna meet their pen-pals, but the other seven months of the school year won’t be half as exciting.

“We take it easy?” She suggests.

“Yeah,” Nino says, fist-bumping her. “We take it easy.”

When they bother to look up, Kim is pouting.

They picked a day where each full-time hero, excluding the original two, picked a random civilian and asked them to get emotional. Peak level, full breakdown, you can cry your heart out and wear it on your sleeve and get rejected by the person you love kind of break down.

Just like planned, Hawkmoth targeted each of those people and attempted to akumatize them.

And just like planned, not a single butterfly got through the cracks. Not a single one of those Civilians turned Side-kicks got akumatized. The heroes captured them in jars, released them under Carapace’s Shelter, and watched as Ladybug released them.

They released them one by one and had each hero—Carapace, Viperion, Ryuko, Abeille—follow that butterfly to see where it goes. Only Ryuko’s went to a nearby park and stayed there, acting like a normal butterfly. But the rest? They all went back to the same place: Hawkmoth’s headquarters.

Gabriel Agreste’s home.

Adrien Agreste’s home. It made Ladybug panic, made Chat Noir fall into himself, quiet, as if shocked and heartbroken, and they quietly met back up on a roof.

Ladybug was the first to speak. “We have to think of his son.”

“Adrien.” Abeille supplied. “His mother is dead. It was all over the news. If he’s going to lose his father too-”

“We have to do this the right way.” Carapace finished looking pale beneath his mask.

“Exactly. No one mention a thing. No one looks at Gabriel wrong. No one drops it to Adrien. I want dead silence.”

“Understood.” Ryuko says, arms crossed sternly.

Chat Noir could only nod in agreement.

Marinette is in the middle of a phone call with Jon and Damian—he’s ranting about how all of the ‘classic’ books his English teacher is having him read is either racist, like Huckleberry Finn , or misogynistic, like Little Women —when she hears crashing, banging and shouting.

“ Mon Brute?” She questions, sitting up straight off her chaise. She had gotten home from school after calling, meaning he’s eating breakfast in the library. “Are you okay? Jon?”

“The fuck do you want?” Damian asks, but just from the tone she could tell it wasn’t her or Jon. It’s too rude, and condescending.”

“Well, Demon Spawn, I was thinking that tonight, when we’re out on-”

“Marinette!” Jon’s voice cuts in, sharp and excited and she has barely heard him on the phone but even she could tell that he’s faking it. “This is Jason, Dami’s older brother.”

“Yo, you got a girl on the other end of the phone? Congrats, kid.” The voice gets closer now. Definitely Jason. “Hi, girl.”

“Um…” She glances around her room, but even Tikki is off doing something else because Kim is busty asleep, drooling on her favorite pillow. Great. So she’s getting no advice. “Hi!”

“She is talking to me, Todd. Not Kent.”

A second voice joins just to mock Damian for saying that. “Oh yeah, like you could pull anyone. Let me guess—she doesn’t even go to your school.”

“I live in France.” Marinette helpfully replies.

Jon interrupts. “This is Tim Drake. Another one of Dami’s brothers.”

“They’re all older than him, right?”

“Older but not bigger,” Jason’s voice says, more than amused. “Ain’t that right, Replacement.”

“He’s getting taller than you too, asshole.” Tim snaps back.

“Are we forgetting the girl?” A third voice says.

Thankfully, without her having to ask, Damian says, “That’s Dowd. He is, regretfully, Drake’s partner.”

Tim echoes, “Regretfully?”

“Partner?” Bernard—she remembers him from rants; he’s a conspiracy theorist—asks. “You can pretend to be a real boy and say ‘boyfriend’ you know.”

“‘Partner’ because Timothy plans to marry you.” Damian deadpans. “Not because I do not say ‘boyfriend’.”

“Speaking of which,” Jon says, voice quiet but she’s pretty sure everyone hears it. “I have to talk to you about Jay, kay?”

“Alright.”

“Jay?” Bernard says, sounding interested.

“None of your business.” Damian snaps.

Her phone and computer both start buzzing and flashing a low purple, and Tikki, compact like a globe as Kim starts stirring, phases up through the floor.

“Uh, Damian, I have to go. Baking emergency! My parents need me downstairs.” She excuses, rising up to rush into her bathroom. “It was nice meeting you, Jason, Tim, Bernard! Will text you later, Jon. Call you later, Brute?”

Jason coos and snarks out “Et tu Brute?” at the same time.

“You can call me Bear.” Bernard offers.

“Okay!” Jon chirps.

“Yeah, nice meeting you.”

Damian hums. “I will be free after two in the morning.”

“My time zone or yours?” She asks, feeling rushed.

“Yours.”

“Okay!”

With that, Marinette hangs up and leaps to her feet, calling on her transformation, crawling on the ceiling to avoid Kim’s blurry line of sight where he’s staring at her TV. That could not have come at a worse time, but hey—at least she met some of his family, right?

“Has something changed for you lately, M’Lady?”

Ladybug turns slightly where she’s sitting on the edge of the building, to face Chat Noir where he’s goofing around on the flat middle of the roof, and gives him a weird look. “Why?”

“I dunno,” He flips onto his hands, then moves to balance on one hand, shooting her one of his watch what I can do grins. “You seem happier.”

“Happier?” She deadpans. “Okay.”

“No, I—” The hero flips back onto his feet. “—mean it. It’s like you’re really doing better.”

“Than…?”

“Then before.” Chat motions vaguely with his hand. She struggles to follow. “When you were stressed all the time. Anxious during literally every akuma attack.”

Neither of them had to use their powers for this akuma—Hawkmoth’s, sorry, Gabriel’s genius self akumatized a baby again—so now they’re just doing patrol until either of them have to get back to their normal lives, switching with Viperion and Ryuko who normally patrol during this time.

Which, since she’s getting back on call with Damian, she’s a little excited about it.

“You’re not like that anymore.”

“I think something has been changing, yeah.” Ladybug relaxes, uncrossing her legs to hang them over the edge. “I used to be really scared of any form of intimacy. Relationships. Meaningful conversations. Romantic notions. I would freak out when I got a crush on someone.”

“I’m doing the same thing right now with this boy I like.” Chat muses. “I go red whenever he’s around.”

“Are you trying to be a snake charmer, Chaton?”

“None of your business. I could be in love with five different guys, for all you know! I’m, what would you call it? A boy’s man? A, a player?” As if on cue, the silly smile struggles to stay on his face. Still, he stays cocky. “But you’re my one time soulmate, Bugaboo.”

She rolls her eyes. “The soulmate bit I can agree with.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“And tell me more about them!”

The heroine shuffles nervously in place. “How do you know this is about someone instead of just a steady stream of self reflection?”

“‘Cause if it wasn’t about someone important to your civilian self you would have let the cat out of the bag long ago.” He points out. “So tell me about this person who cured all your fears.”

“You sure you won’t get jealous, Minou?” Ladybug teases, leaving in to poke a finger against the leather of his suit.

It was a long road, but they’re over each other. It’s simple and complicated, and feels more complex than it should, but it’s good. Feelings are hard to get over, sometimes. She knows that better than anyone. They’re better partners because of it, and this is something that she firmly believes.

“I think one of the reasons I’m not freaking out is because we were friends before I got the crush on him, y’know? Like normally I like people from afar, that’s safer, but now I like my friend… and it feels safe.” Saying this didn’t feel like a lie, and she’s more than thankful for it.

“Because you actually know what kind of person he is?” Chat guesses.

“Exactly.” She nods. “I don’t really have to be scared about what will happen and all the ‘if’ questions. We’re gonna be okay no matter what.”

Chat grins at her. “Do you think he likes you back? M’Lady deserves a love of her own.”

“I’m not sure. He’s, he’s hard to read.” Shrugging, Ladybug looks to her yo-yo, shoulders turning back to face the front. “There’s been some moments where I think, yeah, it’s possible , but I don’t think right now I could really act on it.”

He just about pouts. “Why not.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Long distance, anger issues, or a social issue?”

Ladybug laughs despite herself. “A and C. And a little bit of B. And a little bit more than that, too. It just feels like we’re really different people. Our communication is really good, I’m just not entirely sure we’re compatible.”

“If you want to, you will.”

She stares at him blankly. “What.”

“If you really want to make it work, then you will find a way.” Explaining this, Chat makes it sound simple. “You’re you . So anything is possible—and if you actually like the guy, he must be pretty good too. It sounds worth the effort to me. Doesn’t it to you?”

“You’re just a silly cat,” She waves him away, crossing her arms. “What do you know?”

“Hey! Some have called me a Love Doctor before.” 

“Yeah? And some are delusional too.”

“You wound me, Bugaboo, truly.”

“Cry about it, Chaton.”

“Babe!” Alya squeals, coming up behind their lunch table to wrap her arms around Nino, who immediately plasters a fake smile on his face. He’s been smiling less since they got together. It makes Kim sad, but it pisses Marinette off. “Did you hear? Of course you did! I have so much to write about in my blog now! I’m behind, and I don’t like being behind.”

“It’s expected, nobody can hold it against you. It’s a lot of work-”

“I know! So much happened! Lila’s been helping me draft it all, and if you have any inside scoops…” Her voice drops down. “Let me know.”

“Alya, I can’t.” Nino’s voice falls flat. “You’re not supposed to know anymore. And I’m not talking about this with you here. You didn’t tell Lila, did you?”

“Of course not!” Pouting, Alya moves away from him—hand staying on his shoulder to be able to squeeze . “But, Nino-”

“No, dude.” He tries to shut her down. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Marinette remembers this being part of the reason they broke up the first time, because Carapace would see things Rena Rogue wouldn’t and trained for being second to the guardian, and wouldn’t tell her about it. But Marinette doesn’t know that, Ladybug and the guardian do. It’s one of the reasons her miraculous was revoked. 

So she won’t mention it. 

“You just, you actually know what happened and I think it’s really inconsiderate that you’re not trying to help me here. I mean, I’m your girlfriend.” Huffing, Alya is now visibly upset, like she was just scorn or rejected from college. She talks more like Lila now, too. “I just want to be a reliable source.”

“You’re a eighteen year old blogger-”

“That doesn’t mean I’m not noteworthy-”

“You’re not listening to a single thing that he’s saying, are you, Gingersnap?” Chloe cuts them both off, flicking her ponytail over her shoulder.

She’s more than aware of how upset Nino gets after having to fight with his girlfriend and how obviously disrespectful of his very clearly stated boundaries that Alya is. Chloe is Marinette’s go-to ‘okay to be angry with’ person, because Kim just tries to cheer her up and Nino gets anxious in return.

Chloe hates Alya more than ever now.

“He said no.” The blonde presses on. “Move on like you did the first time you broke his heart.”

Fuming in her typical fashion, Alya shifts her glare from Chloe to Marinette. “Are you going to let her talk about us like that?”

“I… Alya, I… I agree with her. Nino doesn’t want to talk about whatever you’re talking about—” Being a superhero that just let it slip that they know who Hawkmoth is due to a rather inconsiderate akuma who makes people tell the truth , but Marinette isn’t supposed to know that either. “—and you’re pressuring him after he told you to stop.”

She scoffs. “I’m not doing anything wrong. He’s my boyfriend.” 

“Probably not for long, if you keep that attitude. You already lost him once, remember? Now,” Chloe—who is entirely socially dominant, especially at her table—points towards Lila’s lunch table. “Go sit.”

“I’m not a dog.”

“Bitch, you’re close enough.”

Marinette stands up and takes Alya’s arm in her own. “C’mon. It’ll just be worse if you stay. Like you said, he’s your boyfriend—you can talk to him later. Clearly, he’s shy about what it is in public.”

“I don’t know why you all sit with her.”

“She’s our friend.”

Hazel eyes glare back to light blue ones, Chloe waving her goodbye mockingly. “Yeah, some friend.”

Marinette has pulled away from Alya over the span of Junior year, and a little bit before that too, well before Senior year started to the point that even Damian knows about how Alya treated her during Freshman year, getting to the point where she doesn’t talk to her unless she needs to and it’s like Alya didn’t even notice at all. 

A part of the heroine is hurt, but honestly, it’s just relieving that she didn’t blow up at her over it. So she stays quiet, walks the journalist back to her table, waves ‘hi’ and ‘goodbye’ to Juleka and walks back.

It’s better this way.

“I’ll give her a week of no contact.” Nino says—mid decision, facing Adrien, who they all know will give him the most support, given Kim eats with Alix and Max. “Do you think that’s okay?”

“I don’t know about okay,” Adrien says back, looking sympathetic at best and horribly awkward at worst. He’s been exhausted lately, but Marinette has had to remind herself that it’s not her place to worry—even if she’s stressed about making it worse as Ladybug. “But I think it’s a really good start.”

“It’s hard to pull away from people like her.” Marinette says, motioning to herself. “Talking from experience, of course. Because yeah, Alya can be a really good listener and be there for you, and Chris, and show up in ways that nobody else did, and she’s so-”

“Strong.” Nino interrupts, looking like he’s going to cry, much more than he was before.

She nods and is grateful for their shared understanding. “Yeah, exactly. She’s strong, and it’s attractive and it feels safe.”

“But Lila has changed her, Alya’s not strong anymore.” Adrien says, sounding so sure that it makes Marinette frown. She wishes he was always like this around her; sincere. “She’s broken her down. Now, she’s compliant. It’s just a ruse.”

“She’s a faker.” Chloe finishes. “And she isn’t nice to you, DJ. She’s not quite mean, but she’s not nice. She’s always using you. Dump her again.”

“She-”

“Dump her.”

Nino shakes his head. “I’m giving it a week.”

Angel
I was wondering if you were okay having a gc between you, me, Jon and some of my friends
I already asked Jon, he’s okay w it !!!

Brute <3
What would be the purpose?

Angel
To plan the Gotham / Paris trips enough in advance. Chloe wants to embarrass the rest of our class with how prepared we are, more than them I mean

Brute <3
Who do you count as your friends?

Angel
Kim, Nino, Chloe, Adrien for this, since it’s school friends only, but normally Kagami and Luka too

Brute <3
Not Cesaire?

Angel
Nope!
Nino’s probably gonna break up w her soon
I’ll fill you in once I ask him if it’s okay :))

Brute <3
Alright.

Brute <3
Then, yes.

Angel
Thanks, Damian!
They’ll all call you Al Ghul, btw, because I haven’t called you anything other than Damian Al Ghul or Brute in front of them. I hope that’s okay!

Brute <3
They do not know I’m the son of Bruce Wayne?

Angel
No?
I can tell them if you’d like to get it out of the way or smthng

Brute <3
Don’t.
I prefer it this way.

Angel
Then okay :D
I’ll add you !

Brute <3
Appreciated.

Angel
Forewarning - Adrien is the admin…
and he has a thing for puns and didn’t give us access to change our own nicknames

Brute <3
Wonderful.

Brute <3
That was sarcasm.

Angel
Ik !!

if the Eiffel Tower was in Gotham

Adrikins Agrestakins added Damian W. Al Ghul to the Chat.
(Say ‘hi’!)

Adrikins Agrestakins changed Damian W. Al Ghul ’s nickname to the Ghoul

Adrikins Agrestakins
THERE ! <3

dj supreme
dude
why

Adrikins Agrestakins
Bc its what his name means OBVI

Kim the Coin
He did the same thing 2 me

Bread Riser/Bread Winner
Adrien’s eccentric but a good sport about you all being mean
Let him have this

farmer’s market !
yes mom !!

Adrikins Agrestakins
Yeah lemme have this!!!

dj supreme
you can tell you were homeschooled

the Ghoul
Is “farmer’s market” Kent?

farmer’s market !
no
!

dj supreme
yeah

Bread Riser/Bread Winner
Yes!

Bee’s Knees
Who else would it be, Al Ghul

Bread Riser/Bread Winner
Chloe

dj supreme
the mean blonde

Adrikins Agrestakins
HEY

dj supreme
i said mean blonde not dumb blond

Adrikins Agrestakins
:(

dj supreme
fine
i said mean blonde not happy go lucky puppy sunshine boy blond
better

Adrikins Agrestakins
Very !

the Ghoul
Bourgeois.
I’ve heard about you.

Bee’s Knees
Not surprising
I am important

Bread Riser/Bread Winner
Guys try not to spam this gc okay, it’s for actual plans - we can have a diff one for dms if we want but we need to look back and find stuff like links / times of meet up earlier !!!
Thank you <3

the Ghoul
Sounds appropriate.

farmer’s market !
okay
!!!
will do :D

dj supreme
okay

Adrikins Agrestakins
Lets continue this PURRfect CATersation somewhere else!
Fanciest Frenchies gc??

Bee’s Knees
Lets

Bread Riser/Bread Winner
Talk there. For now, let’s vote on our first solo group event away from all the school bullshit

Bread Riser/Bread Winner created a Poll labeled “ solo event <3 ”
Option 1 - themed restaurant
Option 2 - amusement park
Option 3 - park trip
Option 4 - beach trip
Option 5 - fancy brunch

Adrikins Agrestakins, Kim the Coin and farmer’s market voted for Option 2

dj supreme and the Ghoul voted for Option 3

Bee’s Knees voted for Option 4

Bread Riser/Bread Winner
Okay!!! Amusement park won!
I’ll start looking into everything now! Gothamites if you have suggestions/know where to go, pls dm me!

Bread Riser/Bread Winner
Those of us w jobs, start saving up for everything now seriously, bc we want be able to have fun not just survive
<3

Adrikins Agrestakins
LET ME PAY

the Ghoul
I will have Father pay.

Bee’s Knees
Ridiculous. I will steal Daddy’s card

dj supreme
awh
the nepotism babies love us

Adrikins Agrestakins
We do !!! :D

the Ghoul
Speak for yourself.

Adrikins Agrestakins
No :) :) :)

Bread Riser/Bread Winner
Boys you’re both pretty

Kim the Coin
Am I pretty?

Bread Riser/Bread Winner
Pretty annoying, yeah

dj supreme
Damn Dino, she burned you

Bee’s Knees
Dupain-Cheng has a bite today, everyone. What happened at school?
Can I actually sue that Gingersnap and the liar now?

dj supreme
give it two days

Kim the Coin
That's when her week is up

Bread Riser/Bread Winner
Main gc for these convos!

This will be updated for plans regularly !!
Everything is in this google doc too !

farmer’s market !
yes, ma’am
!!

dj supreme
“ma’am”

Marinette is admitting to herself how much Damian means to her, and it is terrifying .

But then she looks to Nino pinning after Alya, the way that Chat and Viperion circle each other, Chloe’s massive crush on Kagami, the way that Kim falls hard and fast and so unapologetically, and Adrien is shy and nervous, but so willing to give anyone a shot.

And she realizes she’s not alone.

She never has been.

Chapter Text

The view from the tip of the Eiffel Tower is breathtaking.

All around her, the sky looks like a water-color painting, looks like a dream; looks endless. The view does lose a bit of the ‘wow factor’ after the first few times of coming up here in the suit, but the clarity that invades her mind from all the fresh air doesn’t.

Marinette feels that rigid line her life is forming into quiver.

Nothing lasts.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng has stood at the front of her bakery as a family employed teenage girl and drank countless cups of coffee to keep up between work, commissions, school and heroism. At one point, she swore everything she saw was in black and white.

She had tracked Hawkmoth from the edges of Paris to the home of Gabriel Agreste and everything fell into place. He wants his wife back, and pushes away the whole world and his son in order to (not) get it. Thinking about how to handle it makes her numb.

It’s like she’s reading the headline of some bad news article about forest fires, or a family death, or another woman found dead all over again, and she can’t get past the headline to dive into the story, only flick through and let her brain try to fill in what happened.

Nothing lasts.

She has to believe this.

Sometimes your life will explode into a pink-red line, twist and form into spotted black fabric and turn pale and fall between your palms—that will be the first time you’ll know that you’ve changed.

Sometimes peace is won by nothing, doing absolutely nothing at all, and Marinette had redone a man’s order three different times, and updated her team on akumas while at school, missed her work to deal with commissions and missed commission deadlines for Ladybug, and the alternative to the light is darkness.

Because what they don’t tell you is that sometimes the light is just too blinding. And that can make the darkness feel like home. So now, when she thinks back to how Master Fu offers her this shadow-stained world, it only makes sense when she remembered the way she nodded, took the Miraculous Box in both hands and said—

“Yes.”

“It’s been a week.” Nino announces as he flops into his desk’s bench.

“What?” Asks Marinette, trying to find any context clues with Adrien, but the blond just looks anxious as he gently slides next to his friend. Looking two seats up from them at Kim only leaves her annoyed, due to him being face down on the desk. “What are you talking about?”

Calmly, but brown eyes watering, Nino looks up to her and explains, “I’m breaking up with Alya.”

“Do’ya wan’ help w’tha?” Kim lifts his head at this, blinking at him. Her annoyance eases, just a bit. She’s grateful Alix hasn’t hopped in place next to her third yet.

Chloe, who is just arriving, raises both eyebrows as she shoves Marinette’s things to the other side of the desk, making the heroine roll her eyes and shuffle over so the dramatic girl can have her way. At least now her, Nino and Kim are in a line facing down.

“Well, I’m glad that I didn’t skip today, after all.” The young politician says, smirking. “Why are you breaking up with your precious fire-cracker, anyway? I mean, I could make a whole list of reasons, and honestly I think this should have happened, like, a week you got together again but still. Why?”

She’s never let go of the fact that they got back together, even though she’s the one out of their entire friend group the most unaffected by it, other than Kagami and Luka, who aren’t involved in any of the school drama anyway. It’s just a weird type of injustice Chloe can’t let go of.

In one way, Marinette appreciates it.

In another, she knows it’s toxic.

“I gave her a week of no contact, Kim even had to take my phone a few times,” Nino mumbles, and Kim nods while rubbing at his eye. “She didn't text me or call me at all. I always was the one texting first, unless it was for good morning or night texts. It’s like I don’t exist unless she wants something.”

Adrien nods, frowning a bit. “Even I know that’s not right.”

“And she’s had since year one to correct how she treats you, Steak.” Marinette points out.

“Exactly.”

“Good point, Cupcake,” Their third looks between them, before settling on the DJ. “Are you scared, then?”

“I dunno, dude, a bit? It’s like…” Nino sighs, tired and sad. “Dude, you know how every time we’re together she helps me get out of the house and school. I know it’s only been three months, but I’m used to it again. What would you do if Alix suddenly couldn’t help you anymore, Dino? Like, how do I even… what am I going to do? She helps with my family too, especially my little brother.”

“One step at a time, turtle boy,” Chloe flicks her fingers, which are sugar-covered from her breakfast muffin, towards Nino. “One step at a time.”

Marinette raises her hand to get his attention. “Step one should be planning it.”

“Right.” He agrees. “I don’t want to be super emotional.”

Adrien bumps his forehead into his friend’s temple, making Marinette and Nino both smile at the cat-like action. Chloe rolls her yes, Kim is yawning and misses it, and the boy himself ignores them all in response. “It’s okay if you do get emotional,” He tells Nino. “This is a big change.”

Nino shakes his head and Marinette can’t name the expression he has on—she just knows that the times she’s used it, she hasn’t felt good. Kim, who is better at reading their best friend’s expression than her, winces in his seat, and leans up to pat his hat once or twice.

“That is actually one of the problems. I thought I’d feel bad because of how short we’ve dated and all the shit we’ve been through together, all the back and forth, you know? Kind of like how could I do this to her? But I… it feels more like why haven’t I already done this?”

He pauses, hesitating. She can tell he doesn’t want to admit what comes next.

“I’m mad at myself for even getting back together with her.”

Chloe goes to say something snarky (probably along the lines of “That’s what I’m saying!”) but Marinette stops her with a hand on her wrist, shaking her head. Now isn’t the time. Chloe is still learning. Nobody yet has tried to teach her how to be nice, instead of silent. 

They’re changing that.

Tilting his head, blond strands falling in front of his eyes, Adrien nods. “It feels past due?”

“In a good way,” Nino’s hat moves along with him. “Like something finally clicked.”

“Oh yeah, I get that.” Kim says, having had his own experience with Ondine. 

Marinette and Chloe—who don’t—look at one another with a shake of their heads. The two boys have always understood Nino and his needs oddly well; they’re best friends for a reason. Her and the queen bee get along differently too, the boys don’t get them either when they’re fully integrated into their feelings as well.

But she will never not be connected to Nino and Kim in her own way. 

She thinks their bond is more special.

“I’m proud of you.” Marinette tells Nino, ruffling the knotted section of hair sticking out atop his head, from under his hat. His braids are growing out, despite Alya telling him to cut them. “I know this is a hard thing to do. Trust me.”

“Got any advice?”

“Only break down on Wednesday’s?”

The group breaks into laughter just in time for Alya and her ‘friend’ group to walk in, rolling their eyes at Marinette’s loud, high-pitched giggle. She silences up, but Kim and Adrien don’t break a sweat by it, voices echoing out as they try to jot down what kind of breakdowns fit what days.

She wishes it was that easy for her.

It’s the next akuma fight it happens.

The fight is against Stinger—a wasp-based supervillain upset that the city workers weren’t doing anything about the wasps on his porch, despite his son being allergic—that things went south. His powers let him infect his victims with pain, making them imagine their worst fear while a burning, toxic poison runs through them.

Viperion got stung and didn’t even scream. He didn’t use his powers to reverse it either. So Chat Noir keeps getting more and more cocky, thinking the suit is going to protect him.

Ladybug isn’t sure it will.

Abeille isn’t in the fight (otherwise, there’d be a lot more bee-based puns) because Chloe has some political dinner to attend—not the Ladybug knew that, but Marinette certainly did—and Carapace is recharging from having to use Shelter early on to protect a family.

Viperion was in physical and emotional pain so Ladybug made him watch from the top of the tallest nearby building, to use his power if and only if it was truly needed. Ryuko, Ladybug and Chat Noir are leading the force against Stinger.

Ryuko is, as always, the main attacker, playing offense with her sharp wit and sharper sword, Chat was defense and the distraction, two things he excels at, and the leader herself was behind her partner, figuring out what her Lucky Charm is used for.

This one isn’t challenging, just time-consuming.

It’s shaped like a sheath, almost, but no space for the entrance of a handle and small, and narrow, and it definitely didn’t fit Ryuko’s sword. Her best idea is that she has to get it on the needle protruding from Stinger’s left hand, the way he’s able to infect others.

But that’s hard when he moves twice as fast as them.

Ladybug is so focused on the plan—have Chat distract Stinger while Ryuko keeps up her attack until Carapace is back in the battle, then pull Viperion off the roof, trap him, her Lucky Charm and the akuma under Shelter, let the snake overpower Stinger, and purify the akuma—she doesn’t notice the change in her environment.

She’s too busy worrying about how Ryuko and Viperion will definitely get hurt because of this, and doesn’t know if that’s a choice she’s comfortable with as a person, even if she is comfortable with that as Ladybug.

She isn’t noticing anything.

So she didn’t notice that Stinger had hit Ryuko—who is now bowed over, taking a knee, tears streaming down her face as she bared pointed teeth—and by the time she does notice that her teammate is hit, she’s standing to meet her, and doesn’t see Stinger jumping at her from the right.

Then Chat Noir is diving in front of her, hands holding onto her shoulders and pushing her down so hard that she’d find bruises in the shape of fingerprints on her shoulder blades in the morning, and he is tackling her to the ground. And Stinger’s needle is pierced through his shoulder.

Inches above her heart, Chat planked above her.

Stinger just keeps coming, pulling the needle out of Chat’s shoulder as he screams and collapses onto Ladybug, sobbing, only to keep stabbing it into his back, screaming out, “Give! Me! Your! Miraculous! GIVE IT TO ME! Now!”

Blood sprays across her cheek.

She’s in shock.

Red crosses over her vision, a terrible, violent red, and Ladybug rolls Chat—who thankfully passed out before the last time the needle pierced into him—and her over, grappling with him, shouting “Get off of him! Get off!” in a cracking voice, grabbing Stinger by the throat, not even feeling it when his needle piercing her in the arm, trying to get her to stop.

But she’s gone.

Ladybug grabs his stinger and snaps it in half, and Stinger screams as if he’s in pain and she doesn’t even care , she just drops him to the ground and kicks him hard enough, with so much of her miraculous strength, that he’s knocked back into the building across from her, neck hanging to the side—

Motionless .

She catches the butterfly in her yo-yo silently and releases it and the Lucky Charm in the same breath. Chat Noir stays passed out, and the tears are still steady down Ryuko’s face, and she’s willing to bet that Viperion still has that far-away look in his eye—

And she could be thinking about how her Miraculous Cure doesn’t work the same on the holders, or how they’ll all have nightmares about this one, or how she’s got venom in her veins still, or maybe that the man she just killed has a son, and even though he’s gasping to life right now, he still died—

But she doesn’t care .

She doesn’t care.

Ladybug silently, with not a word, picks Chat Noir up, cradled to her chest—wounds closed, but suit still ruined in the back, where she sees scarred skin—and jumps away, gliding over the rooftops of Paris, eyes still that dark red, running from the fear, from her actions, from everything.

This is the part of being a hero that almost doesn’t make it worth it.

In a blind rage/worry/an emotion she can’t describe or name past I can’t be experiencing this , she just… ends up back home. She blacks out and comes back standing in her room, detransformed, holding the collapsed Chat Noir to her chest, standing awkwardly in front of her chaise.

His ring is beeping and she doesn’t know what to do.

Tikki runs a tendril-like claw down her holder’s back, probably having stolen food downstairs to pull the energy off to recharge. “I have him.”

“He was really hurt.”

“You cannot take care of others until you’ve taken care of yourself, Marinette.” The being scolds, dark blue dips switching from the side of her ‘head’ facing Marinette to the one facing Chat as she lowers the hero onto her chaise safely. “Go.”

“If you insist.”

Despite saying this, she waits a moment, staring at the mop of blond hair and tightly closed eyes, and how Tikki’s mass of energy moves to cover all of him in her shadow—protectively. She’s acutely aware of who is behind the mask; that he started all of this as a child too.

To Tikki, they’re all still children.

Marinette’s going to be sick.

“Baby Bug, I’m here.” Tikki announces herself, lining the glass shower door with her deep maroon. She’s long-since learned to not actually pop into Marinette’s shower, since she’ll slip in shock. “He is awake. I have explained why he is here, he only remembers the first wound he received, but have not confirmed that you are my holder. Would you like me to? He knows you, my little.”

She’s taking a shower so hot, she literally feels like she’s burning. Her face and hands still feel dirty; blood-covered. Chat was never supposed to be one of her plan’s casualties.

She swallows the acid back down her throat.

“He’d guess anyway,” Marinette grumbles, the words he knows you make her stomach turn nervously. It was always a possibility that she considered, but to hear it aloud… It feels more real. Everything that Chat once guessed might be true. “You can, or I can. Might as well.”

There’s a pause, and she’s almost grateful that she can’t see Tikki’s face. “Are you planning on telling him that you’re the guardian?”

“No.” She says. 

And it’s really that simple.  Nobody else should have that much powerful knowledge, and until Marinette can trust whoever is under Chat’s mask too, she’s not telling him. But she’d be the first to admit that it’s only him she’d tell, they’re partners for a reason.

“I’ll get out now. Are you confirming it, them?”

A deep hum makes the glass rattle. “Plagg is now, since you had given me permission.” They’re one in the same too. “He was listening.”

“Great…” Mumbling this, Marinette shuts off the water and stares at the water droplets sliding down the wall. “See you in a few.”

Her entire life is about to change, and she dreads that. Dreads it, but she can handle it. Getting dressed, she puts on her comfortable pajamas—tank top, shorts, fuzzy shocks—throwing her hair up into a single ponytail. There’s so much that can go wrong here. But like she said—she can handle it.

Marinette takes a deep breath, and pushes open her bathroom door.

Adrien is sitting on her chaise, rubbing at his eye and wearing one of her larger pajama shirts—the ones that she uses to be her dress-like shirts over her smallest shorts and skirts for different outfits of hers. She assumes this is because of the way his shirt was probably shredded once he detransformed.

She knows Tikki probably got it for him.

But she’s only staring for a moment, and then tears are forming in her eyes and she’s smiling, leaning into the door frame with a small laugh. “It’s you.”

Because of course it is and it all makes sense now, and she feels safe and a little bit hurt for the damaged boy she knows her Chaton to be now, and proud of the hero that Adrien was able to become, despite his father, and mother’s death, and school, and everything in between.

It’s him. It’s always been him.

Green eyes snap up, alarmed, before he relaxes, and laughs a little in response. For a moment she’s confused and then realizes that he doesn’t know what to do about this information either. He leans back on one arm, waving shyly with the other one. 

“It’s me.” He rubs the back of his neck, glancing about the space before looking back up. “And she’s—you’re you.”

“I am.” Marinette shakes her head at herself, and feels those years of worry and panic slip away. A weight off her shoulders. “We should have realized.”

“I know, right!” He exclaims.

“Kwami magic.” She says, moving over to him and sitting down, knees touching. It’s as much of an explanation as it is an excuse. “Does it feel weird to you?”

Green eyes study her for a few moments, flicking between both of her blue ones, and then he’s shaking his head, messy blond strands falling in front of his eyes. “No, not really.” A pause. “I think… I think I did know it was you, already. Like, why wouldn’t it be? You’re you, and I’m me. And this all makes a lot more sense.”

Marinette grins. “I feel the same way. It’d be weird, if it was someone else.”

“Hey,” He shrugs, and she can see the Chat in his smile. “If it was Felix, you’d never know.”

“Yes I would!” She gasps. “I can tell the difference between you and that ass, Adrien. For starters, you’re shorter, secondly, he literally speaks like his socks are always wet, and you’re the sunshine boy. Nino calls you a puppy. Everyone can tell the difference.”

“Well, they,” A huff. “Not from afar.”

She arches an eyebrow. “I’m not ‘afar’ right now, Adrien.”

“Call me Chat Noir.” Saying this, Adrien wiggles his eyebrows, leaning in mockingly.

“Oh, hush.” Her blue eyes flick down in worry, and Marinette shyly points towards his right shoulder. “Is it… are you okay? That was-”

“Really bad? Yeah, I know.” Adrien sighs, and shakes his head, almost to himself. “I don’t think we’ve had a fight quite like that before.”

She steadies herself before speaking, in efforts not to cry. “That was really scary.”

“Don’t worry, Mari,” He shoves his shoulder into her own. “This cat’s got, eh? Maybe like, five lives left?”

The heroine shoves her partner’s shoulders, about to tell him to be quiet, when a shockingly large and dangerous-feeling black mass pops into existence a few feet away, by her computer desk. It has dripping green eyes, white flashes that outline fangs, claws on its one outreached hand and comes in tandem with a deep, cackling voice.

“You dead, kid?”

“ What the fuck is that! ” Marinette scrambles back, and ends up falling off the chaise, back hitting the wall, one leg stuck on the top of the cushion by Adrien’s thigh and the other trapped between her chest and the chaise leg. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Tikki-”

“That’s Plagg!” Adrien stands with a rush, taking whatever ( she can’t believe that it’s— ) Plagg was holding out, and moving the chaise over a little so she’s not trapped. “Sorry! I thought you would be used to their true form! Otherwise I swear I would have asked him to-”

“No, you’re okay,” She slowly gets to her feet, kicking her furniture back in place, but not letting her guard down because holy shit . “Sorry Plagg.”

“No sweat, kid.” Plagg says, and his energy shifts to mold into Tikki’s when she comes into the room—temporarily as she rushes towards Marinette in a flash, spinning around her, lifting her toes off the floor, holding her in two paw-like arms. “I just scared her, Sugar. Nothin’ damaging.”

“You’re made to damage.” Tikki snaps back, ‘head’ moving up and over her holder so one of her deep blue pool-like eyes could meet Marinette’s. “Are you hurt?”

“No! I’m okay!” Defending this makes her feel silly for freaking out in the first place. Her arms are squished under her chin, and she feels a bit too much like a dangling cat for her to be comfortable with. A glance at Adrien says that he’s amused by this.

Great.

“Not going to defend me, Chaton.”

“M’Lady, I think this is a mess you’ve got to get yourself out of.”

“Hey Plagg,” Marinette calls—purely out of spite. “I’m surprised you haven’t double checked that he’s okay after what happened today. I think his pupils were being weird earlier. You should really get on that.”

Adrien immediately backs away, trying to dodge his kwami around the room, shouting “I’ll give you the stinkiest cheese if you don’t!” and “Please! You can clearly tell she’s playing us!” and “You’re better than this, you mangy cryptid cat!” which really, is enough to have Marinette giggling.

It’s him.

Adrien Agreste is Chat Noir, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng is Ladybug. And two plus two equals four, and her favorite color is pink and his is pastel orange, and the sky is blue, and Master Fu would be so proud and she thinks that this is going to make it so much harder and so much easier to win.

But he is Chat Noir, and she is Ladybug.

And they could do anything.

“Jonathan Samuel Kent.” Marinette says, the moment the ringing of her phone stops. She doesn't know what she's going to do if Damian answers, or if he's at a party. She feels confident right now, since Kim, Nino and Adrien gave her a pep-talk over it, and Chloe is there, staring at her so she can't back down.

“Marinette Mei-Yin Dupain-Cheng.” He responds easily, and then adds, “Nobody’s around.”

She lets out a sigh of relief, and then confesses, “I’m in love with your best friend.”

A loud giggle—squeal—noise of excitement sounds out, and she swears she hears feet stamping happily on the floor, like a dog, and then there’s a dreamy sigh coming out of the speaker, “Tell me everything.”

And, well, with a glance up at Chloe, who rolls her eyes but motions her forward, and knowing Tikki is listening—

She does.

Chapter Text

The Dupain-Cheng bakery is all bright lights, pastel colors and a murky grey, sweets and good coffee, odd tea, and warning of kindness. Marinette Dupain-Cheng was raised under the impression that these things mattered. It would not matter to Ladybug, but it didn’t need to.

On top of that, the grief of seeing things only she saw didn’t matter to the seventeen year old girl, only the hero, so she kept working in front of that small counter with the air that smelled of sugar and caramel, and only told her parents of troubles with Lila and Alya, and introduced them to Chloe again under the light of friend instead of bully .

Senior year brought many gifts, Chloe Bourgeois is one of them.

She talked to them as if they were her own parents, and by the time that October rolled around, they had refurbished the bare guest room across from the one used for Nino and Kim’s sleepovers into a room with pastel yellow walls, cream colored sheets and a closet empty for her to fill.

There had been a girl, changed, fighting tooth and nail for Marinette to exist in peace over the last few years, and in return, Marinette smiled, held her hand and said, it’s okay to not feel good and promised her that having money doesn’t mean you can’t have problems.

That she doesn’t have to be accepted by her mother to be happy.

Chloe Bourgeois had been calling out for help in the only way she knew how for years , all while feeling like she’s worthless and bitchy, and turning cold at the edge of her fingers, and always used to stumble into bed with tears in her eyes, and Marinette, who was too busy feeling bad to wonder why hadn’t noticed—but it wasn’t her job to.

Sometimes, bullies are just bullies. But anyone who bothered to genuinely ask Chloe how she’s doing that day and watch surprise flash across her face, would know that wasn’t the case. Marinette is grateful she changed, a part of her wondered if Alya had to leave to let Chloe be her friend, or if she could have both on their by her side and it be the same.

Those are the things she doesn’t like thinking about.

She couldn’t change it even if she tried.

Before she ships off the finished outfits to Damian, he needs them by October 30th, the day of the ball, so she has Adrien—who’s only an inch or so shorter than Damian, and pretty well built; and she knows his entirely family is fit, especially given his measurements—try on his outfit to take pictures for her, and does the same thing with Kagami for Cassandra, though Kagami is about two inches taller, and made sure to state that.

It’s only October 9th, because she still needs to make her entire group’s matching Halloween costumes (they’re going as different Marvel heroes, via Mari’s choice), but she’s confident that she’s done everything. He even bought her silver and gold sets to make the jewelry for her designs—which now made her super into ring designing.

But that’s neither here nor there.

Damian’s Zagreus outfit consists of a a dark brown and black ombre muslin chlamys that’s mid-thigh length and cut on the sides of the legs with a skull shaped shoulder pad where the fabric is clipped together, over a light tan silk chiton—the center belt is a black cloth he can manipulate to be as tight as he wants, with diamond aglets sewn on so it looks fancy, instead of simple. 

For his pants, she dyed the fabric a forest, sage and pastel ombre green, and created something that could both be classified as harem and joggers, so they’re loose enough for him not to get uncomfortable, but tight enough not to be called baggy.

He sent her pictures of the kinds of shoes that he’s comfortable with, and she decided on an everlane sandal that’s the same dark brown as his chlamys, with a dark red sole and small diamonds on the straps, with little black skulls painted onto the brown leather of them.

She didn’t know if he wanted socks or yet, and he didn’t either—he probably would decide in the moment, given he’s not sure what would be most comfortable—so she made him plain pastel green and white ombre fuzzy socks to wear under, with dusty pink skulls and a single yarrow flower over his Achilles heel.

One of the most surprising things about him that she found out was how many piercings he has. He said that it was something his mother started, to show he was relaxed and didn’t need them to fight (she was a fighter of some sort, and from what she gathered, vaguely military) and he just keeps getting them.

The last one he got was his snake bites with Jon, who got a single earring to match designs with him.

So for his jewelry, all gold and diamond, she created a crown with sharp pointed pillars and the same dusty pink and sage green flowers along the edge, so if it spins, it never looks out of place. She made a dangling scythe earring, a small yarrow flower one, and a stud for one ear; and a chain with a skull on the end, a small rose and a diamond stud for the other.

She made Jon and Damian matching yellow rose rings, with black diamonds and sage leaves for Damian, and blue sapphires and rose vines for Jon (just because she hopes that they keep wearing them outside of the charity gala doesn’t mean that she’ll tell anyone).

Not only that, but she made a ring that has a skull center with two diamonds on either side, a ring with a simple sage leaf design and a single band. For his snakebites—this was the hardest to do—she made one small diamond edged one, and another one that looks like a fang.

Marinette also made a skull charm bracelet, and sent him links to different places and instructions to get as many charms as he wants, a plain silver bracelet with a semi-colon on it (which Jon requested) and a plain black cloth bracelet he requested to match something of hers (which Jon also had to tell her he wanted), so she made it in the style of a hair ribbon.

Even if she’s starting to wear ponytails less and less, she thinks it still counts.

For extras, which he definitely doesn’t have to wear, she gave him a cane with a gold skull on the end and a forest green base with dusty pink and brown flowers, diamonds and skulls painted on it. And to clip on his center belt, she made him a plain gold coin bag—since he’s the god of wealth—and had Papa make candy diamonds for her to package for him to give away.

Making candy wrappers up to health standard but still have them be aesthetically pleasing to fit Zagreus  is harder than making socks, she’ll tell you that much.

She also directed Damian to a bunch of different websites with directions to get appropriate boxes and undergarments for him and Cassandra, so that when they put it on, nothing underneath changes how it should look, but they aren’t limited to what they already own.

Macaria was a great choice for someone like Cassandra Cain.

For her, she made a greek peplos dress that is a fine dusty pink silk, with a dark green centerpiece—a belt that’s shaped like a belt, with dark red straps for her shoulders and biceps. 

The silk is cinched in different places around the top, so the hem is ruffled and cute, making it so it doesn’t hug her chest, instead hanging loosely in ruffles until you get to the belt, and the skirt is only knee length and has a wide and long slit on one side all the way up to her hip.

Underneath is a dark sage green and black ombre velvet leggings, with a long waistband, to hug her middle, so her breathing isn’t impacted at her waist. On the leggings she sewed roses and little ghost wisps in silver, dusty pink and dark red. They are a stretchy fabric that hugs the body, but still feels loose and doesn’t suffocate someone while wearing them.

Cassandra likes soft, light fabric touching her, and Damian likes rough, strong textures. That’s why the fabric that touches him is all muslin and cotton, and she’s all silk and velvet.

Marinette likes the differences between them.

Her crown is all red flowers, forest green leaves and silver. She has no pointy edges, just soft curves. Marinette sent Stephaine three different hair options for Cassandra to do that day, and a fourth that allows her to keep her hair down, and got sent back about a hundred emojis.

She also made her velvet gloves in the same ombre color and rose/wisps pattern, with her fingers all faded out into black to show off the ring she made for her. A silver ring with a dusty pink rose for her, and and light purple violet and silver ring for Steph’s Hecate design.

When it came to shoes, Marinette made simple black flats with a dark sage green sole. She made very thin, stretchy cotton socks—to the point they were almost see-through—with silver and sage green vine and thorns sewn in, as well as different roses and yarrow flowers, and single silver ghost wisps on her Achilles heel.

Those were a bit harder to do when it came to stitchin, given they’re so thin.

For jewelry, she made a silver and red rose charm bracelet (which Steph is going to pick out more charms for, as long as Damian shared the link like he said he would) with two charms, a dusty pink rose and a silver scythe. She also made a choker in the same design as her flower crown, and a silver chain necklace with diamonds embedded in intervals and pearls dripping like rain, with three of the ghost wisps hanging off of it.

When it came to extras, Marinette had Kagami reach out through her contacts and get an actual silver scythe that is weighted to fit Cassandra’s frame—which she painted roses and skulls on, as well as wrapped a dusty pink cloth around the top near the blade, and added thorns along the bottom of the base.

Marinette challenged him to find her signature on every piece and he, never one to back down, agreed.

He approved them both, and even praised her for the quality and attention to detail, and it made her giggle and squeal, and blush the entire time she was packing it. And since Cassandra’s outfit was supposed to be a surprise until the night of the gala (her girlfriend, Stephaine Brown is going to make sure it’s all okay with her) she also sent the photos to him.

“Perfect.” He had called it.

Damian Al Ghul doesn’t say perfect about anything. Not even himself.

That was enough good-feeling to get her through the next three days feeling like she was on some sort of high, which let her design all of the group’s Halloween costumes without so much as a crumpled page to go along with her finished notes.

Marinette did good.

And it says something that Damian, of all people, thought so too.

Ladyblog is the most popular blog in Paris.

Today the biggest text-post, trending on her local Twitter feed as well, reads Ladybug vs. Stinger Deep-dive — Is She A Good Hero, Or the First One? And for a few moments, all she does is stare at her phone in disbelief. Then it clicks in just how bad this is, and she clicks on the link.

“Why’re you frowning?” Adrien asks, glancing over at her from where he’s kneading dough. 

Papa’s been teaching him a few tricks, he started working at the bakery after they realized who their partner is and is loving it—and Gabriel’s been taking more and more commissions for making up for his lack of work in his busy months, so he’s both been distracted as a father and Hawkmoth.

“Um,” Marinette scrolls through the article, eyes not focusing, just catching key words. Her feet have stopped swinging from where she’s sitting on the counter. “I’m pretty sure Alya just called Ladybug—” Me, she thinks. “—a bad hero.”

The dough drops onto the flour-spread counter with a dull thump when Adrien jerks, mouth agape. “ What! ”

“Do you want me to read the article?” She asks, voice just a little sad.

“Do I—yeah,” Blond hair falls in front of his eyes when he nods. “Yeah. Is it just Ladybug?”

Marinette’s frown lessens just a little bit, thankful her teammates aren’t getting picked apart as well. “Seems it.”

“Okay.” He picks up the dough and starts again, though this time stiffer, knuckles turning white. “Then read, please.”

“Starting now—”

Ladybug vs. Stinger Deep-dive—Is She a Good Hero, or the First One?

We all know Ladybug as Paris' first and main hero, right alongside Chat Noir- -the blond, hilarious and flirtatious cat-themed hero- -and because of her massive, constant and most importantly, first noted presence, most of Paris overlooks some of her more juvenile or unsavory qualities.

Let’s explore Ladybug’s recent misdeeds as Paris’ infamous heroine:

1. Let’s not forget the biggest thing that came to light during the Stinger Fight: Ladybug is willing to kill

We all saw how violent and bloody that fight was on one of the latest Ladyblog videos I updated recently. Yes, Chat Noir was getting hurt by Stinger. Yes, emotions get the best of us all. But the point of having a heroine in the battle between the literal manifestation of our negative emotions and the good in us is that she doesn’t get sucked into it.

If all of our eyes got red when we got that mad, and we killed someone over it, we would need to be held accountable. Is it not murder, because Ladybug does it? What else do we call it then? When our laws no longer apply to our heroes, they’re no longer heroes - they’re vigilantes.

2. The way she treats civilians.

Most of us have had some contact with the Miraculous Team at some point, whether it’s because we were akumatized or because we were out on the street when they were active. Either way, many know Ladybug as a very straight to the point, non-humorous heroine with a serious I’m The Boss attitude.

Of course, that’s okay when in the fight, but with civilians? Eh, not so much.

When it comes to civilian aid and clean up, the rest of the Miraculous Team always does it. Even Chat Noir will join in sometimes, whereas Ladybug will disappear right after her butterflies disappear and they do their magical ‘Pound It!’ routine. She’s the only one who barely sticks around to go to the civilians, or take an Akuma victim home. 

If that doesn’t reek of a God Complex, I don’t know what does.

3. How she chooses her team.

She will have more and more random civilians be temporary side-kicks, heroines and heroes and without explanation, give and take. There is no explanation of why she picks who she does. Sometimes, she has very questionable choices- -Chloe Bourgeois’ run as Queen Bee, for example- -and even those, that created public outcry, aren’t explained.

4. Her choice to kick Rena Rogue off the team.

Rena Rogue, one of Paris’ first additions to the Original Miraculous Team, was tracked down in late August of last year and had her miraculous revoked. She reached out to me earlier this year and said, “It was the most confusing and hurtful thing I’ve ever been through. Ladybug didn’t explain to me why it was happening then, and she still hasn’t now.”

She asked me to seek justice for her, and that’s part of this article.

#Justice4Rena

5. The last thing on this list is, unfortunately, her plans.

Not only has Ladybug, as leader of the Miraculous Team, failed to catch Hawkmoth over these years but she also makes some very questionable choices for her teammates over the years as well. Rena also supplied me with some- -purposely brief- -knowledge about the dynamics of her team.

“If it suited LB’s plan for one of us to die, or get hurt… she’d do it. The only one that she never set up for the slaughter was Viperion, and that’s because of the kind of powers that he has over the timelines, she’d still get him hurt if she ‘needed’ to. Even Chat was liable to be the target of an akuma on purpose. The only person she would think twice about using as bait, hurting, or getting killed was herself. Working on as one the Miraculous heroes was on a very What She Says Goes basis… it was taxing.”

End List.

We all know that Ladybug has served Paris well- -for the most part- -over the years; but that’s not to say that her performance and qualities can’t be improved. It’s important for all of Paris to have trust in the heroine we put our lives in every single time there’s an akuma attack.

Are these qualities you want in your hero? In the leader of the Miraculous Team?

Think about it.

“It… it makes me mad that that’s well written,” Adrien says, frowning. “Anyone who doesn’t want to have to think twice and trusts her blog, even after it basically turned into a Lila-Ladybug fan-site, would agree with her. And her using her old identity to Rena to add in…” He shakes his head.

“I know.” Marinette nods in agreement. “And it seems like the comments are pretty evenly split too. Don’t overmix that dough—start shaping it now.”

Green eyes flick up to her in confusion. “It doesn’t need to rise?’

“It doesn’t have yeast in it.” She informs, switching topics back. “This does give me a good excuse to do what I’ve been thinking about for a while. How would Chat Noir feel about Ladybug starting her own blog? One that features different pages for all us heroes and what our jobs duties are? That way there can be an official site for akuma sightings, and tracing them as well.”

Adrien practically glows at the comment. “I think Chat would think it's a purrfect idea, M’Lady.” 

“That was a horrible impression, Adrikins, never do it again.” Chloe snaps, making both of them jump, turning to face where the blonde is coming down from the stairs. “What? I came in the back.”

He wrinkles his nose as if to say horrible? but Marinette ignores it all together, in favor of teasing Chloe—given the way her cheeks are glowing a little pink. “Did someone have a run-in with a certain fencer?”

Chloe turns her venomous smirk on in an instant, and retaliates, “Did someone get flour in their hair and not pick it out yet?”

“ Me-ouch .” Adrien gasps. “Rude. And fencer? Like Kagami?”

“I’m going to kill you, Dupain-Cheng.” Chloe says simply, sighing as she slouches down onto one of the red-cushioned booths. “Yes, Adrien. I’m crushing on Kagami Tsurugi, just as you are crushing on Luka Couffaine. But at least I’m not stooping to the level of piracy to draw someone in.”

“I—I am not!” His voice raises up a few octaves. 

Some good things did come out of the two partners talking about the miraculous team, and sharing their knowledge (Adrien being able to guess based on Marinette’s opinion of the other heroes of who they are. Though she knows that he already knew about Carapace).

“Uh yeah, you are.” Chloe flicks her ponytail over her shoulder. “It’s ridiculous to think otherwise.”

“Utterly.” Marinette agrees with a nod of her head—though this does earn her a dirty look from the Bourgeois girl. She grins, and tries her best to make it as ‘Chat Noir’ as possible. “Just stating the obvious.”

“You’re horrendous company, both of you.”

“Then why are you here?” Adrien scoffs, turning his attention back to the dough, pressing down the cutters into it—having missed the step that he powders it in powdered sugar, but he needs to learn, so she says nothing.

“‘Cause Sabrina is pacing in front of Le Coin ’s entrance again, and I’m rather sick of entertaining her.” Blue eyes roll to the ceiling, and Chloe leans forward to take a lemon poppy seed muffin and throw her card on the counter with a solid motion. “It’s not my fault that she ran to Lila.”

Adrien flicks his eyes back, but knows well enough not to charge her before she’s getting up to leave. “Weren’t you mean to her?”

“After we broke up-”

“ You were dating! ”

Chloe rolls her eyes again. “Yes. Get over it. We were dating and I got us into couple counseling, how I met my therapist now. Because she wanted me to use her and I was like, okay with that, ‘cause why wouldn’t I be? But like, it started to get creepy because she wanted to do everything for me. So I broke up with her, thinking that would make it go back to how it was before, but alas. She’s still weird and clingy.”

“And this was?”

“Sophomore year.” She shrugs. “But I’m totally over it, it’s just pathetic at this point. Utterly pathetic. But she went to Lila, and Lila obviously isn’t as nice as she seems, so of course she comes crawling back. I’m so sick of waking up and she’s just there .”

“Um…” Adrien winces, turning to her. “Is she stalking you?”

Marinette makes a face, thankful she’s no longer able to relate. “We can, like, spend a few nights at your house and give her a stern talking to, if you want.”

“And put you out of business, Dupain-Cheng? No thanks.” Chloe starts picking at her nails. “It will be fine. All I have to do is ignore her and walk away. Jean Poe doesn’t let her in my room anymore.”

“Jean Paul.” Adrien corrects.

“Whatever.”

“Uh, are we just going to ignore that someone’s stalking you, Chlo?” Asking this, Marinette raises a finger in the air. “Because I really don’t think we should.”

Chloe waves her off. “I can take care of myself, Mari. Now maybe if Adrien was the one getting stalked…”

He gasps. “Hey!”

“Just saying.”

The topic soon dies off, and Marinette soon fills Chloe in on the article, but addressing her idea of Ladybug having her own blog more like a rumor, instead of a probable thing. And Chloe, practically being in love with Ladybug, whole-heartedly agrees.

She’s more than thankful for this.

“Alya really needs to pull her head out of her ass,” She scoffs. “It’s not like the Miraculous Team are celebrities or Rena was working on some set with a toxic boss. They’re heroes. Like, what’s not to understand? I’m sorry you’re ignorant, but be quiet.”

“Right?” Adrien chuckles a little, but is still very bothered. Him and Marinette share a knowing look.

The heroine smiles a little to herself. “I think it’ll turn around. But hey, at least half of Paris still think Ladybug is a good hero.”

“And the other half is where natural selection failed us.” Chloe drawls.

“Truly.” This makes her partner chuckle, shaking his head as he chooses a wisely-picked ladybug cutter from the bin, lining it up with the dough. With a look back to them both, that familiar sparkle in his eye, he asks, “What do you two say to a movie marathon tonight?”

“Can Kagami come?”

“Only if Luka can.”

They both look at Marinette with wide eyes, giving her the puppy-dog look, though she’s very rarely turned down a good movie night. “Fine, but I’m inviting Kim and Nino.” Adrien fist-pumps while she opens their group chat. “It’d be a good time to finalize measurements before I start sewing. I know Kim’s grown a bit.”

Chloe smirks. “You can measure me any time you’d like, Dupain-Cheng.”

“Save the flirting for your fencer, Bourgeois.”

Marinette wishes desperately this ache in her chest of Alya and the Ladyblog was the kind of secret she could share with Damian. He would know exactly what to say that could ease even the parts of Marinette she saw as Ladybug Only, instead of herself.

Instead, it’s a forced secret.

Gabriel Agreste’s assistant Natalie Sancoeur is revealed to be Mayura after a day of non-stop fighting where Carapace pins her and Ryuko slices the peacock brooch off of her. 

One of the new channels gets video of it from helicopter feed (and more importantly: Alya Cesaire does not) and reports it—but that doesn’t matter anyway, not when Ladybug herself can walk her to the police car, Abeille sitting with her the whole way there so Hawkmoth doesn’t try anything.

Because of this, Gabriel is charged with aiding a criminal and hiding her usage of it, and held in a cell until he got his bail, and by then, all the akumas were purified. On top of that, Adrien was told by police—since he’s an adult now—to leave the Agreste Mansion and find somewhere new to live.

That spare bedroom for Kim and Nino was turned into his after two days of rigorous work, and Marinette watched Sabine sign all the paperwork needed for saying she wouldn’t let Gabriel, who Adrien now had a restraining order against, into the house.

It felt like a dream.

Kim, of course, wasn’t the most pleased with this, so Adrien (who inherited his mother’s half of the company when he turned seventeen) bought him his own chaise/bed that Marinette popped in the corner of her room, and a second twin size mattress for Nino to put across from his own.

It all happened within a flurry of three— long —days, but Marinette couldn’t be thrilled.

Adrien, however, is proving that good things can hurt. He’s sitting on one of the chairs on her balcony, curled up, hugging his knees. “What do I…” She never thought she’d hear her partner so broken. “What do I even do now?”

“The better question is what do you want to do now? Anything.” Marinette motions around, not knowing a better answer. “Pick something.”

If the roles were reversed, she wouldn’t be able to pick at all.

“I—I want ice cream.” Adrien says, lifting his eyes back up to look hopefully at Marinette. “Can we… it’s calm now, Chloe practically ate the press from breakfast last night, so can we just all get together and go get ice cream? Everything be damned.”

She nods. “Andre’s?”

“There’s this small place, full of sugar, helpings are huge. Father refused to let me go there, but Mom used to take me as a kid without him knowing, before she left.” He explains, pulling out his phone to pull up the directions. “It’s only five minutes away.”

Marinette flips out her phone as well, pulling up the group chat to instruct her team to get out of their suits or away from their computers and meet them at the place, dragging Adrien off of the chair to stumble behind her as she furiously opens the latch.

“Alright.” She says. “We’re going.”

His smile is worth it.

Marinette found, paid, and took several online classes for web designing and how to create a firewall just so that Ladybug and Chat Noir could create their own website that couldn’t be hacked, and Tikki poured luck into Marinette’s small frame as she spent days typing in code, just to make it stick.

Finally it was done.

ChatBugOut had different sections for each of the main heroes, where they would post about their specifics tasks and what their jobs are, briefly—so Hawkmoth can’t get a true grip on them—and one place specific for akuma alerts, updates and tracking that no comments can be left on, and a final one for videos from the team.

Ladybug’s Agenda: This is where she posts about all new and ex-team members, so nobody is confused before a big fight about who is an akuma and who isn’t. She’s also planning to leave messages to all of Paris about the different sights from up high and posts all full or most of the Miraculous group related things, and updates from the mayor.

Chat’s Pawsome Posts: He will be the biggest shit poster, and the space where people can actually reply to his comments. He has restrictions on what he can post, but will be leaving inspiring messages. On top of that, this is where all fans can post photos of the team in action.

Abeille’s Stings: She will be doing a dive on all past akumas so that if someone gets re-akumatized, civilians will be aware of how to handle it. Not only that, she’s in charge of giving out resources for community and mental health outreach for civilians.

Carapace’s Calming Techniques: This is a zone totally dedicated to tips meant to destress and calm down, in order to prevent akuma attacks. He will be posting calming music and links to websites, texting servers and phone numbers people can reach out to when they need to talk.

Ryuko’s Defense Tips: There won’t be many here, but she will be posting videos where she and Chat or Carapace will help her demonstrate self defense tips—though not for akumas like Abeille, but rather for everyday life, where many will need it more.

Viperion’s Updates: For this section, she has no clue. She just sent it to Viperion, and told him he can do it with it what he likes, and he told her that he’ll probably just be doing vague mixes of the other’s sub-pages, but with more personal notes.

Akuma Space is where all things Akuma and Hawkmoth related, including a spot where she sent the mayor’s Akuma relief supervisor a link to be able to post (moderated through her and Chat Noir, of course). This is the one that will send alerts to even silenced phones—which is able to be turned off.

On the same vibe, Community Space is where all commenters and site visitors are welcome to leave comments and the likes, but she has Carapace and Abeille, who are admitted online a lot , do post clean-up where they’ll just okay or deny anything that the website’s anti-harassment and abuse trained AI will alert to.

Within two weeks, it was a fully-functional blog—Ladybug was sent to launch it October 26th.

The very first post—after each of her team introduced themselves on their blog, Ladybug updated things that civilians need to know about Miraculous and Akumas and how they work, and even some things that they didn’t, and they did tests for alerts and updates—made public is on one Ladybug’s Agenda where a video of her, standing on the Eiffel Tower, her team sitting around her, Chat Noir’s laugh echoing out from behind the camera.

“Chat!” She said, scolding but smiling, and more playful than civilians have probably ever seen her. That’s only because this is Off Duty time where she just so happens to be In The Suit. “Is it on?”

“It’s been on for a second, M’Lady.” He teased.

Blue eyes roll at him beneath her mask, and her smile steels over just a bit. Wary, but excited. “Bonjour, Paris! This is Ladybug. At this time, all of the Miraculous Team’s Twitter accounts and the Mayor’s office should be announcing the release of our blog, ChatBugOut.”

Chat Noir echoed the name, earning him an eye roll from Abeille.

“This is the official blog and website for the Miraculous Team and me, Ladybug,” Cue an uneasy smile. “I know that I’ve had my problems with Ladyblog’s creator and editors in the past, as well as shows like Face to Face, and anything fan-made instead of officiated by the government, or honest documentors.”

The entire group nods, other than Carapace, who’s on his phone—watching Live from there, doing a quality check.

“Here you can find all relevant updates for Paris, a spot for each of us heroes to interact with you, as well as for Akuma alerts, and a spot for the Mayor to send links and support from.” Ladybug glanced down at a piece of paper, so nervous that she wrote notes. “Now, here to address a few rumors that I deem actually important.”

“And by that—” Chat turns the camera, his baton, around to face himself. “—she means ones that aren’t correct and the ones I find personally offensive that anyone would agree with.”

“Dude.” Carapace scolds, still scrolling.

Ryuko coughs out a warning, and the camera is turned back around.

“We can all have our opinions.” Now her true Ladybug Mode was on, but she forced a smile. She knew that this was going to be a long video, and that she probably should have brought water. “In regards to me not dealing with civilian clean up or press—”

Chloe Bourgeois shared the video on her profile, saying, anything she says, me and my father agree with. She’s the leader for a reason . And now, most of Paris was watching.

Just like that, Ladyblog is number two.

Chapter Text

Marinette’s relationship with her parents is complicated.

Papa brings her sweets to her room without her asking, and Maman cuts her up fresh fruit in the morning because she’s always running late to school after a long day. She can’t remember the last time they told her they were proud, so all the I love you ’s are starting to sound static.

Once, when she was eight, Grandmother said that Marinette will never be good enough and it’s all her father’s fault, and Maman had said nothing; she just looked down in shame, and Grandmother and Maman don’t remember but she does and it hurts every day. 

Her parents are the ones that convinced her that trying her best makes her good enough.

Hugging her papa feels like home. 

The last time she cried in front of him, he got upset and walked away, and he’d do the same things when she was a little girl and scraped her knees because he couldn’t handle the sight of blood. And Maman still helps her sew up the tears in her nice tights, because it’s not the same when it comes from her machine and Marinette likes to watch her fingers dig into the fabric.

Marinette is the only person they’ve chosen to love on purpose.

She can’t tell them anything that really happens in her life anymore, but they know her best friend’s orders by heart and call Kim and Nino their boys, and that’s all that really matters. At times she was convinced that they loved them more than her. 

At times, she knows that she’s the only thing that matters to them.

Maman doesn’t ask her about her day anymore when she gets home from school. She doesn’t want Papa to ask. She remembers being five years old and going to school for the first time, and getting home and crying on his lap, begging them not to leave her there again, and he took her small hand in his giant one and said, “Baby girl, that’s just how it is sometimes, but when you leave, I will always be here when you get back.”

How are you supposed to grow up with your parents when they look at you and still see a little kid? She wants to crawl into their bed at night and tell them about her nightmares, and they want to see her in her outfits and think of her like a grown woman. 

She wishes she was still six. 

She wants them to act like she’s mature.

Marinette doesn’t know how to love them without resenting them, just a little bit, if that’s okay. She doesn’t know how not to do either of these things, or ask if it’s natural, or even admit that she misses them when they’re just downstairs, right out of reach.

Growing up is hard.

Leaving her parents behind, staring at pictures of her with teeth gaps and pigtails is even harder.

It’s a good morning before school, Damian is on call, face-time, but like most days his head is tilted down as he reads. Now that she knows to look for his skin-colored studs, she can tell where his piercings are—and really wishes he’d show off more.

“And you firmly believe Bourgeois is good now?” He asks, a wrinkle in his nose. “I’ve read Stephen King plots that sound more accurate, Angel.”

“C’mon, Demon,” She teases, pouting a little. “One of the first things I told you was that I want to give her a chance. All I’m asking is that you go easier on her in the group chat, every time she suggests something you’re rude to her because she used to bully me. Before we even met!”

He huffs. “It is not my fault she has such an obtuse personality.”

“The same thing could be said about you, Al Ghul.” Luka muses, both of them having missed the back door of the bakery opening. 

Damian lifts his head up to glare, and Marinette starts to blush before she looks away and up to the musician. He’s Luka, which means he’s not here for no reason. “What’s up?”

Blue eyes flick over to her phone, and his hold on his guitar strap tightens. “We need to talk, privately.”

“O-okay.” Marinette starts, grabbing her phone off the counter, while Damian sits tense, jaw clenching—clearly bothered by this. “Um, I’ll, um, I’ll text you later, okay? You know I’m safe with Luka. Tell Jon I’ll reply to him later today, and I’m still figuring it out.”

“You’re safe?” This is the only thing he cares enough about to confirm.

She nods. “I am. Text you later, mon Brute .”

Once they’ve hung up, Luka glances up to her house stairs. “Can we go somewhere private?”

Despite the way she definitely knows better, Marinette is frazzled enough to ask “Is it about Adrien?” as in about his massive crush on you but Luka is Luka, so he just knowingly shakes his head and pointedly doesn’t answer. She is grateful for this the whole anxiety-inducing time they’re heading up to her room.

The only warning she gives him before opening the latch is that their Halloween outfits are out and laying on the floor, it being only two days away, and not to look if he doesn’t want to spoil the surprise—Luka, who doesn’t care either way for surprises, doesn’t even glance over.

“So um,” Marinette sits, flustered, onto her chaise, fabric of her styled black joggers flexing through her fingers. “What’s going on? This seems serious.”

Luka regards her easily, for a few moments, head tilted. Then he says “You’re Ladybug.” as if he was saying something like your walls are pink or there’s clouds in the sky . As if it was a fact of life.

Her first response is to lie, but Tikki’s familiar presence presses against her back, form hidden as she trails her, and it reminds her that there is no danger here. Luka is a good person all on his own, adding in that he’s Viperion makes it even better. He’s not going to do anything bad with that knowledge, let alone to her.

Her second response is to think that Adrien told him, but that would require Adrien also telling him that he’s Chat Noir, and if he didn’t even tell Ladybug who he was, he definitely didn’t tell Viperion/Luka. She trusts her partner more than anyone, and knows that sometimes, these thoughts are just anxiety trying to worm its way in.

Deep breaths are all that’s necessary to correct it.

After—what is probably a good few minutes of her just… staring at him—she snaps out of her thoughts, all Marinette does is nod. Smiling a bit, feeling a bit uncomfortable but not really knowing what to do about it since nothing is actually wrong, per se.

“And you’re, you’re Viperion.” She says, struggling to meet his eye. “How did you figure it out?”

“Second Chance accidentally made it so I saw you transform in an ally, like, twice. And I wasn’t going to say anything, it’s not my business,” He shrugs and she honestly believes this so much that it’s ridiculous. “But Bunnyx hopped in from the future to say it was a good choice for the team to know who we are soon.”

“Ah,” Marinette winces. “Because of Gabriel.” 

“I think so.” Luka nods, looking just as awkward as she feels. “I haven’t told anyone.”

“I know. I trust you, and you’re not that guy.” She eyes him. “Have you figured out anyone else on the team?”

“Everyone but Carapace.” Which is, out of everyone that she thought he wouldn’t know, the most surprising. “He never transformed out in the open, even when I was running around with Second Chance. And I don’t really think I know him in real life well. You know everyone?”

She nods. “I do.”

Fondness floods his eyes, and the wrinkles around them soften. “You gave Chloe a second chance? Even after everything that she did. It’s… commendable. Why?”

“Everyone deserves a second chance, or five…” She mutters that last part. “And Chloe was changing, and she still is. She’s a lot better now. And with Mayura revealed to be Natalie, having someone like the Mayor’s daughter there, able to tell her dad not to act or butt into our mission and get a bunch of people killed, it helps.”

He arches a black eyebrow, it nearly disappearing behind his blue bangs. “Does she know that’s one of the reasons you chose her?”

“She’s the only one who knows every reason.” Marinette answers honestly. “Unless Bunnyx is a bigger blab to you than I think they are.”

“Older Alix is fun.” Luka laughs. “Very sure of themself.”

Marinette grins. “Good, they deserve to be. So um, do you want to text the group about what their opinions are about identity reveals or should I?”

“Oh, I was never here.” The mischievous twinkle she so rarely sees on him is suddenly there, right alongside the blue of his eye. “And nor am I the one who swayed your opinion on this.”

“Let me guess,” Marinette sighs. “Because Luka Couffaine isn’t Viperion yet in the eyes of anyone, and we both know Adrien is going to be bounding in here any minute so we can walk to school.”

“And what fun would it be to let Chat Noir figure it out so easily?”

She gives him a dirty look. “You’re not as nice as everyone thinks you are. Putting this all off on me.”

“It’s always the quiet ones.” Luka confirms, kicking open her latch and dropping through all cool-like, like if she did that she wouldn’t crack her head open or break an arm. “Cya later, Melody.”

“Bye, Luka!” Viperion , she thinks. And within two minutes, Adrien is crashing into the space, cheeks flushed. “Can I help you, Chaton?”

“Luka was here! Tell me—” He exclaims, going to continue, then eyes bugging out towards her work-space. “Woah! Is that mine or Chloe’s? No, that’s definitely mine, she’s short. That’s so cool! I’m-”

“Plagg.” Marinette snaps out, giving Adrien a particularly sour look for ruining his own surprise as he goes over to further examine the costumes, trying to guess which one belongs to who. His black energy filling the room no longer scares her, and Tikki’s maroon soon merges with his. “Did Tikki tell you what we were just talking about?”

To Adrien, she means herself and Tikki, but to Plagg, he knows she really means her and Luka.

The white of his fangs flash. “What about it, kid?”

“Thoughts?”

“I’m the reasonable one since when?” He scoffs.

Marinette instantly gives up and looks to Tikki. “Are you okay with it?”

“With what?” Adrien asks. They ignore him.

“If Bunnyx herself came and said that no repercussions are going to come with it, I may be a god, but I am not going to argue with the future, however interchangeable it is.” Tikki says, a dark red wisp of energy reaching out towards her, but not touching her. Pointing. “The better question is if you’re ready.”

“For what?” Adrien asks again—but this time in his signature Chat Noir whine.

The heroine looks right up at him, a bit nervous but now geared up and excited since she has her kwami’s support. That’s all she needed, really. Knowingly, both the kwamis disappear from sight.

“Doing a team identity reveal. Bunnyx said it would be okay, and Viperion confirmed it. With your dad without a partner, having to slow down for work and us all having to go out of town for so long, it will be good to be able to communicate outside of suits.”

He gapes at her. “You’re serious?”

“I am.”

“Holy fuck , I never thought I’d see the day. Okay, I agree. Yes. I’ll let this cat out of the bag, and text the chat. Holy shit. Oh my god. Nino’s gonna be so relieved. Just—yes please. Can I? We’re not telling the media about this, right? That seems smart.”

“ Minou , breathe.” Marinette instructs, rolling her eyes. “How about we do Halloween like normal, but the next day all disappear like we’re nursing a hangover or with friends? I know this spot in Iceland that Tikki loves , which means Plagg probably likes it too.”

“Don’t get your hopes up.” Plagg’s voice echoes around them, but he’s out of view. Creepy.

Adrien just keeps nodding, happy. “One hundred percent yes. I know our team, only Ryuko might not be able to get away with that but she’ll make it happen somehow once she knows what it’s for. Plus your parents are always willing to cover for our friends, suggest she tells her mom she’s getting customer service experience working here like I did before Father got arrested. Phrase it like a sleepover, she’ll take the advice to cover for Ryuko but not let Marinette know.”

“Tomoe will definitely have questions, but Kagami’s not above sneaking out either.” She frowns. “It’s a workable plan.”

“Oh, please let me text them first.” He’s practically vibrating when he asks this, shuffling from foot-to-foot. She motions him to continue, only to stop him from creating a hole where he’s standing in her room. “Yes!” 

He’s not the only one who’s working on powers outside of his suit with his kwami, but Marinette has been at it for years and so rarely does it by accident anymore, but he just started this last summer. 

So the toxic sparking green aura around him definitely isn’t on purpose—she’s proud of him for getting stronger powers and more connected to his kwami, but destruction is still destruction, and she likes her room whole, thanks —and him calming down (or making his phone short circuit) will make it go away simply enough.

“Just don’t do it before school or until your shift is up, and limit your puns.” She instructs, and the grin he sends her promises nothing.

Not the way she thought she’d start the day, by a long shot, but once Adrien realizes he no longer has to be worried about being in love with Viperion and Luka—because they’re the same person—she cannot wait to see his face. It’ll definitely be a noteworthy one.

Especially given Viperion is the only one he hasn’t figured out yet.

She wants to tell Damian .

Marinette is busy creating a bush of weirdly blue-white roses, focusing on them, fusing them with luck as much as she dares. She’s going to crush them up and use them during the process of creating a ring for Damian, a black gold one (from the left over set for his October Charity Gala) in the shape of a sleeping raven—his favorite animal.

After he told her that, she definitely didn’t ‘accidentally’ call him mon petit corbeau once—five times—or anything.

Then her phone rings, and she’s gotten good enough that she can close off the energy-link naturally, not killing the plant, before answering. Tikki stands by her, nodding, energy humming pleasantly. She’s definitely pleased with her ward’s skills and it makes the heroine feel proud.

“Mari!” Jon’s voice rings out over the phone, loud and rushed; panicked. He doesn’t even bother to say hello, so she just lets him keep talking. “Okay. I feel dumb, so, so dumb but let me get through this whole thing before you jump to conclusions. Not that you’re a conclusion-jumper. But that you’re an anxiety-haver. So-”

“It’s about Cesaire and therefore, connects to Rossi.” Damian butts in. His words do, instantly, spike her anxiety as predicted, but Damian being there calms her down right away too.

“Okay… okay.” Marinette nods. “Can I face-time you, mon Damian? Jon?”

“Why can’t I get a cute nickname?” Pouting for only a moment, but connecting them to face-time, her resting it against the pot to sit criss-cross in front of it—Damian is holding the phone, his profile large while Jon paces in an unfamiliar room. It must be his house, instead of the Manor. “Nevermind. Okay, so um, my pen-pal is boring.”

Within a moment, Damian is clarifying, as though he’s worried she’ll get scared again. “I thought you knew about it all.” 

She bites her lip. “About what ?”

“Okay, so my pen-pal’s name is Alya, and Alya only ever goes as Alya and you don’t talk to be about her because it’s triggering and you’ve really only told Dami how bad she or Lila is, and when I’m calming Dami down from wanting to kill them, of course, he refers to them as Cesaire or Rossi, not Alya or Lila—”

“I despise them.” Damian interrupts, then adds, “Breathe, Kent.”

Jon continues like nothing was said at all.

“—and Alya doesn’t name drop anyone when we’re talking, not even Lila or Nino when she was dating him, she literally just said ‘my best friend’ or something, so of course, I should have put it together because she’s always talking who I know is Lila up, and all the amazing things she does-”

“ Breathe .”

He takes a big gasp of air, but remains just as flustered. “She’s a reporter, right? So she always wanted to talk about Dad, and I barely gave her any really details but that’s more because his work is boring than anything, so most of our communication reads like twenty one questions, her talking up Lila, or me being confused about Dad.”

“Jon…” She tries.

“I didn’t realize who Alya was until Damian’s dad gathered the class roster and intel for Damian this past week for the trip, I can’t wait by the way, and low and behold, pari_report_AC at email dot com is not some random girl from your class! She’s your ex-bestie. Your old Alya! The mean one! God, I feel so dumb-”

“Jon, it’s okay,” Marinette interrupts. “You can’t control who your pen-pal is and I know you both well enough now not to freak out over you knowing her too. You didn’t talk about me, right?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I’m not even allowed to talk about you to Dad or Mom, only Conner, Uncle Bruce and Alfred! Damian would stab me if I did, you’re too important—oops!”

The camera shakes and drops so she’s staring at their knees, and for a moment it looks like Jon is floating but then the camera moves and his feet are on the ground, so it was just a visual glitch. It takes her a second to realize that Damian had moved to physically silence Jon.

“Brute!” She scolds, moving to hold her phone in both hands. “Don’t hurt him.”

“I haven’t been violent with Jon in over a year outside of sparring.” Damian informs, then backtracks. “And retaliation for him physically harassing me first.”

The camera raises just in time to catch Jon sticking his tongue out at his best friend. “It’s not harassment if you deserve it.”

“I could say the same thing about my katana through your-”

“Boys, you’re both pretty.” Marinette tsks at them, rolling her eyes. “Jon, I promise that you have nothing to worry about. I trust you! I’m a lot different than I was even last year! A lot more confident! Especially in mine and Damian’s friendship, and by extension, that means you.”

“Oh thank Rao .” Jon looks more relieved than she’s ever seen him. “Just so you know, I never asked Alya to stay at my house like one of the options instead of the G.O. Hotel, ‘cause I’m staying with Dami, but she never asked either. You don’t have to worry about that.”

When he says that— Rao —Tikki perks up, and Marinette tries not to look at her—thankful kwamis can’t be caught on camera. She smiles, and hopes it looks as genuine as she feels past the worry of the god getting involved. “Good, good. Is that all you needed?”

“Depends, what else do you have for me?”

“I just finished my group’s Halloween costume,” She says this while wishing it didn’t feel so much like bragging. “Wanna see?”

“Yes!”

“May I read and see your pictures of the night afterwards?” Damian asks, head tilted slightly—green eyes softening as he looks down at the screen. “The gala is temporarily stressing me out, given it was chosen the day before Gotham’s biggest crime day of the year. Baba isn’t pleased about it either.”

A recent development between them is that Damian is comfortable enough around Marinette to call his dad ‘Baba’ like he refuses to do around others—trusting that she knows he’s mature, without needing to change the language he prefers to use to seem it.

Baba instead of father.

Ommi instead of mother (though Damian so rarely mentions his mother).

Even his brothers don’t get this particular honor, and it’s a rare day Damian slips up and calls Mr. Wayne that to his face. So it’s safe to say that Marinette is ecstatic about this. Damian Wayne-Al Ghul is so cute when it comes to his family. She doesn’t understand how anyone could say he doesn’t care.

He cares so much!

“Of course!” Marinette quickly agrees. “You’re sending me private photos, right? Ones outside of the press?”

Damian nods, leaning somewhere to his right. “Grayson has secured a photographer to shoot us as a family in the manor’s foyer before we leave for the gala, to ensure our outfits are preserved. Brown helped arrange it to catch Cassandra’s glee.”

Jon holds up a crude stick-figure drawing with what looks like a bathrobe on it. “This is what I think he will look like.”

“Accurate.” Marinette giggles and stands up, ignoring Tikki as she goes to show Jon the outfits. “This one is Kim’s, and you’ll never guess why I picked it. It’s because—”

Thankfully, Jon’s not one to spoil the surprise.

ain’t it miraculous?

 Bugaboo <3
What’s about to be said is important
@everyone

Chat’s Meow
Here!!

snakecharmer
here

Queen
I’ve arrived

Chat’s Meow
THATS WHAT SHE SAID

Longg’s Holder
Present

turtle boy
*thumbs up*

 Bugaboo <3
Chat’s going to speak now
Don’t interrupt until I say he’s done. Understood?

Chat’s Meow
Their silence speaks volume, M’Lady

 Bugaboo <3
Chat. Just begin
(This is good news for anyone freaking out!)

Chat’s Meow
Bunnyx said that there would be no repercussions to identity revealing as a group, and given she went out of her way to tell a certain SOMEONE that (he didn’t even tell ME he told LB like how DARE !!!!) both me and Bug think it’s a good idea when it comes to safety and whatnot
Especially considering we know who HM is, and Mayura is captured and behind bars !

Chat’s Meow
Now, of course, is there is personal reasons that one of you still don’t want to identity reveal - you don’t need to explain yourself to us, just like, let us know and we'll try to make it so you don’t feel left out - we won’t make you, yk we’re not that kind of leaders!!!
BUT IT’S GOING TO BE SO COOL GUYS C’MON

Chat’s Meow
That being said !!! I propose a plan to meet up on the top of the Eiffel Tower after we’re all done with our respective Halloween plans (me and LB have the same ones, >:)) and she’ll teleport us to this cool place she knows in Iceland, even tho she’s not telling me how she knows it
It’s so rude guys
GUYS GUYS I KNOW WHO LADYBUG IS UNDER THE MASK

WE DID THE WHOLE REVEAL AND EVERYTHING

@Abeille I’M SO MUCH COOLER THAN YOU

 Bugaboo <3
He’s done guys !!

Chat’s Meow
SHE’S SO COOL YOU GUYS AHHH

snakecharmer
am i cooler, my little sun?

Queen
YOU’RE NOT COOLER THAN ME YOU’RE JUST PRIVILEGED

Longg’s Holder
I can confirm this.

turtle boy
Y do u text like that Ryk?

Chat’s Meow
Oh Kwami Oh Kwami OH KWAMI

Who do I respond to? My moon or the one sting chump??? How am I supposed to decide? Flirting or bantering? Both are my weaknesses !!!

snakecharmer
you reply to me, chat

Queen
I’m sorry but WHAT did you just call me?

Longg’s Holder
@Carapace What is wrong with how I text.

turtle boy
At least use /ti or smthng
its so scary

 Bugaboo <3
/ti are /tone indicators

Chat’s Meow
Oh vipe, you’ve swayed me
I’ve fallen for you

snakecharmer
so the identity reveal

Queen
Ahahahaha you deserved that, fleabag

Longg’s Holder
No.
This is my tone.

turtle boy
yikes

 Bugaboo <3
Guys !! :(
Can we do the after Halloween plans or no?

Chat’s Meow
PLEASE

snakecharmer
yea

Queen
I will fashionably late, as per usual

Longg’s Holder
I will make adjustments and fit it into my schedule accordingly.

turtle boy
b there

 Bugaboo <3
Ty you all!!!
Gtg! Gotta go to work
Meet you all tomorrow, Eiffel Tower, by 2 am !

Chat’s Meow
IT'S A DATE

Chapter Text

Marinette didn’t see Master Fu nearly as often as she thought she would for someone that was connected to her before he passed the Miraculous Box onto her—but that was probably a good thing, given how she was able to grow into her own suit instead of the bright, holy one he had planned for her.

Lady Justice , that’s what he called her. 

Ladybug wasn’t ignorant to the fact that she was just one girl in a long line of constant replacements, but she’s acutely aware that she is still different . She is a replacement, yes, but she’s the one that doesn’t let Tikki forget or not talk about those past.

She let her have a journal, several, to jot her own history in. She created maps, printed out photos, and helped her visit graves, collecting the stories of all her past bugs. And she’s the one who would let all of the kwamis out when he refused to, because it was too dangerous, but Marinette’s under the opinion that if nobody knows that you’re alive you aren’t .

She’s the one who made a new recipe for Tikki, because the goddess of creation loves cookies but hasn’t had any invented for her yet. She’s the one who gave all of the kwamis hope of a future that wouldn’t just be in the box, in the box, in the box .

Because Marinette Dupain-Cheng might have been ‘just’ the next Ladybug in a line of discarded and hidden heroes, but in no way, could she ever fill Tikki’s shoes. And that’s something that Master Fu, in all his time, never seemed to grasp—that he was there to aid the kwamis.

Not control them.

Their entire friend group is going to a party that Mayor Bourgeois is hosting at Le Coin —so before everything, Marinette sets up the outfits and all the makeup that she’ll need for everyone in Chloe’s large walk-in closet (that was the size of a whole new room) while the blonde herself complained about not being allowed to sleep in any longer.

“It’s two in the afternoon, Chlo.” Marinette says, rolling her eyes. On other days, she complains about not getting up on time.

“Uh-huh,” Chloe says, and she can hear the fluffing of a pillow. “Your point?”

“You knew that this was going to happen, like, a few weeks ago.”

“Your point? ”

To not bicker, Marinette just keeps setting up, looking over all the outfits on the mannequins one last time, as if she hadn’t double checked that everything is okay already. Multiple times. She stares at the outfits, trying to imagine her friends in them.

She knows already that Adrien will look good in the Spider-Man suit, given he looks good in his Chat Noir one—but Luka was going to be a hit or miss with the Deadpool suit, having to see if he’ll use the red hair chalk on the blue tips of his in order to get it all to match.

And he ships Spideypool, so she thinks he’ll be more willing because of this.

Because the heroine knew that Alix and Max are going as Loki and Helga, respectively, she made sure that Kim was able to match them by being Thor, but still fit into their hero/vigilante theme (as requested by Nino when she was brainstorming themes).

Nino himself is Roronoa Zoro from One Piece , which she didn’t have to research much about because Adrien and Kagami being little dweebs helped her out—only Kagami was suspicious about her sudden interest into anime, but the blond was just happy to be able to talk.

For Nino and the green hair he’d need to have to make it exact, she has been planning it with his mom, who showed her how to add green into his braids and the kind of hair chalk that wouldn’t itch him at all. He’s allergic to a lot of different things like that and a lot are harder to use with his hair type, but asking is easy, and doing is easier.

Getting Chris not to snitch, however, was a bit difficult.

She promised to dye his hair blue the moment his mom said he’s old enough.

The easiest costume to fit together with makeup and hair is Chloe’s. She’s going as Captain Marvel—and has little fog makers on her wrists and ankles next to LEDs, so that it could look like she really has powers. Marinette made sure to even give her the option of having the tan leather jacket that Carol has in the films!

She’s really proud of it.

Then, on the very opposite spectrum, is Kagami who gets Maka from Soul Eater , dressed to the T in pigtails and her white gloves, even the big chunky shoes. Marinette spent the most time out of all the little add-ons making her a scythe to carry that looks like Soul in his weapon form.

Really, the only thing that Marinette couldn’t do was make Soul himself pop out from the blade (though she was tempted to try and paint him like a clint on it, but the actual blade part was already so much work, she didn’t want to risk ruining it.

And either way, she knows that Kagami will like it.

Marinette herself is going as Sokka from Avatar: The Last Airbender because she knew that Jon is planning to drag Damian around as the Zuko to his Aang—and dress up Titus as Appa—and go Trick or Treating in his neighborhood, since they’re seventeen now, and it’s the last year they’ll really be doing this, given people already barely want to give someone over ten candy.

She knows it isn’t like they’re doing it together , strictly, but it’s something.

Because Chloe’s already there, Marinette pulls her into the room first, promising that if she doesn’t like it, Marinette could try other things too, but then Chloe just stands there, staring at the Captain Marvel costume on the mannequin, blue eyes wide.

Marinette makes a face. “Um… Chlo-”

“You made me the most powerful lesbian in the universe.” Chloe deadpans, turning to her with a blonde eyebrow raised.

“...yeah? I mean, you’re—” Marinette flicks her wrist, and then motions back to the mannequin, only a little bit anxious now. When Chloe doesn’t like something, she doesn’t beat around the bush against it. “—so I didn’t think that you’d mind?”

“Mind? Dupain-Cheng, this is the best outfit I’ll have worn all month! I mean,” Chloe quickly backtracks, not wanting to be over the top in her compliments. “Not by much, given I’m the daughter of the Fashion Queen and look fabulous, but still.”

She still grins, because a compliment is a compliment. “Do you want to put it on, or…?”

Then in less than a moment, Chloe’s hands are pushing on her shoulders, driving Marinette out of the dressing room so that she can change, and though her words aren’t exactly excited or appreciative, the rush of her bare feet on the carpet are all that Marinette needs to feel good.

“Careful with the zipper, Bourgeois!” She shouts, grinning.

“You can do it for me if you want, Dupain-Cheng,” Chloe responds flirtatiously, giggling a little—willing to get giddy once she is out of sight. “But I promise nothing about what happens next.”

Marinette scoffs. “Why can you flirt with me like that but not Kagami?”

The door opens just so Chloe can pop her head out and glare. “Who said I want to flirt with Kagami like that?”

“Oh, your massive crush on her called me on the phone last night and filled me in,” She giggles, pointing her finger out sassily. “You didn’t know?” It’s as if the closet door had an ‘slam on cue’ button, because Chloe barely seems to need to move before the two doors are closing with a solid, big noise. “Drama queen!”

“‘Queen’ is right!”

Adrien tumbles through the door clumsily, hands full with bags that bang awkwardly into his legs, green eyes wide and bright with excitement, Plagg zipping out from his hiding place and scowling over his shoulder. “We’re talking about our crushes? I want to join!”

Marinette giggles. “We’re talking about Chloe ’s crush—but if you need to rant about Luka, be our guest.”

“ Your guest.” Chloe snaps from the closet, sounding like she’s struggling with something (Marinette would guess that it’s the foot pieces. “I’d rather not entertain him.”

“Hey!” Adrien pouts, and she can imagine black ears pressing down against his head.

“Sorry, Adrikins, but we all know that you don’t have to freak out about Luka liking you back because-” Chloe realizes just a second too late that Adrien and Marinette don’t have the same inside track to Luka’s thoughts and feelings as she does, because the Bourgeois girl falls into a sudden silence.

This is unfortunate for her, because Adrien perks up almost immediately, dropping his bags to lean up against the closet door. 

“ Because …?”

“Marinette, I need help with the zipper!” Chloe deflects. “And the wrist cuff things,” She shoos Adrien away from the door and slips in, standing before Chloe with most of the one piece suit on, jacket on the floor by her feet, wrist cuffs held in one hand, cheeks flushed red—seemingly embarrassed from slipping up. “Do they go under the sleeves?”

“You know Luka won’t be mad, right?” Marinette says, stepping forward to clip the cuffs around her wrists, showing her how to align them with the holes in her sleeve so the fog comes out smoothly. “Besides, Adrien can’t read the subtext of a conversation to save his life.”

Then, through the door, a muffled “Hey!” sounds out.

They both ignore it.

“I know, but just, that’s not my place, and I’m…” Chloe huffs indignantly, looking down to the ground, moving her mouth to the side; unhappy. “I’m trying to get better at staying in my own lane. It’s just, the innate urge to bother Adrien is always there, so…”

“You’re doing a good job.” Marinette compliments. “You’re kind now, Chlo. Give yourself more credit.”

She lets out a breath of relief, blue eyes searching the heroine’s face. “Yeah?”

Marinette grins. “Yeah.”

“I can’t hear you guys!” Adrien complains.

“Good!” Both girls shout at the same time, laughing at each other afterwards, ignoring Adrien as he begs to come in—Marinette only saying no because he spoiled his outfit once, and he’s not going to ruin the final one either. She helps Chloe sip up, and prepares the Spider-Man outfit next.

Halloween is officially underway.

Everyone’s in their costumes—and most importantly: liking their costumes—and piled onto Chloe’s bed. 

Nino is posing in the middle, arm raised to grab Zoro’s seppuku blade from the back, Marinette is in the front left, pointing Sokka’s boomerang at the camera and Kagami is opposite of her, her Soul scythe held to her side properly, staring off in the distance. Chloe is in the back left, sitting on her headboard, arms raised so the LEDs can be shown off like Carol’s powers. 

Kim is on the right, posing Thor’s hammer up at the sky, pretending to scream, lightning makeup done perfectly, eyepatch on—looking scruffy, chest on display, proper armor that had Chloe fuming at his boots on her bed. But they all agreed it was needed collateral damage.

Finally (and this is her favorite), Luka and Adrien are posing, wrestling on the bed in front of Nino, Deadpool’s katanas in a pile around them, one gun webbed to his hand (which took forever to do) while he tries to hug Adrien, and Adrien pretends to use his spider-strength to stop him, mask held perfectly in eyeshot of the camera as he pushes him away.

First, they were going to have Adrien hold Luka like a bride, rolling his eyes, but he sneezed and dropped him—which she thankfully got on camera—while the others were setting up, so the idea was scrapped.

She likes this one better anyway.

“Alright!” Kim shouts. “Give me weird faces!”

Nino turns back to Kim, puts his leg up and throws his head back, Chloe dives between the space between the leg Nino has his weight on and Kim’s, kicks her legs up, puts her chin in her hands, and gives a big hysterical candy-face wink. Luka stays on the bed and poses on his side like a poster girl, making sure his legs aren’t in Chloe’s way.

“Hubba, hubba.” Kim jokes.

Adrien hisses at him playfully—her and Luka share a knowing look. How do more people not know?

Meanwhile, Kagami shifts her pose so her backs facing the camera, pigtails out, her Soul scythe raised as if to hit Kim with it. Marinette and Adrien jump together, the webbing from Luka’s hand now pulling on her boomerang, him on her back, her making a shocked face.

“Um…” Chloe says, thinking, sitting up behind the boys. “Duck faces.”

She scoffs, relaxing her pose. “Of course you would, Bourgeois.”

“Only because you’d never, Dupain-Cheng.”

“Everyone up front!” Adrien orders—and as the resident model, they listen. “Okay, does anyone not want to be touched?” Kagami raises her hand. “Great! Okay, so, sit down in front on the floor here, and rest Soul against the bed like he’s participating.”

Kagami arches an eyebrow at him. “Participating in what ?” 

“I’ll explain in a second,” He waves her off, turning to Kim. “You’re our star right now, Lightning God.”

At how wide Kim grins, just about everyone groans.

They end up sitting side by side on the end of the bed, one leg crossed over the other, turning their chin up with a kissy face, arms acting like they’re fawning over Kim—Soul’s scythe pointed towards him too—who’s flexing standing on her desk chair, hammer ‘holding down’ Kagami, whose legs are both outstretched, looked bored and annoyed.

This is, of course, except for Resident Deadpool aka Luka, who had one leg over Marinette and Chloe’s thighs, not posing with the rest of them, leaning on the bed pretending to clean his gun with one of Chloe’s bras over his suit (she suggested it herself).

Honestly, Marinette thinks that Adrien likes modeling a lot more than he’d ever admit.

Which she will definitely be asking Plagg about later.

“Okay, now pair up!” Marinette instructs. “Themes together! In order, leaning on their knees on the bed, Kim and Chloe. Gimme something, like a fist bump or stick your tongues out at each other. Something. Adrien and Luka, act like Peter and Wade, whatever way you want—

They immediately look at each other, Luka smirks before pulling his katana out and making a kissy face at Adrien, who flushes but flicks both hands out in the phwip-phwip motion, blocking him.

“—perfect!” She turns to Kagami, takes the scythe and puts it across her shoulders, motioning for her to keep it there like a baseball bat, blade down. “So, in front of those four, Kagami, sit with one leg over the edge of the bed, like, your heel on the ground. Nino, sit in the middle flexing, please, criss-cross.”

Stepping back towards the camera, she nods, and then quickly crosses over towards Luka’s side of the bed. Marinette grins. It’s perfect .

“I’ll mock Kagami. Make sure your weapons are out!”

Their next shots are just remaking the covers of Avatar, Spider-Man/Deadpool, Captain Marvel, Thor: Ragnarok, One Piece and, finally, Soul Eater , to be able to post as the header of each of their Instagram's—knowing Chloe, she’ll milk this for days .

And the final shots, is just a cameo of all their weapons—Sokka’s boomerang, Soul’s scythe, Deadpool’s guns and katanas, Zoro’s seppuku blade, Captain Marvel’s gloves, Thor’s hammer—all tied up and covered (aesthetically) in Spider-Man’s webbing.

“I’m the star now.” Adrien brags, blowing a raspberry in Kim’s direction, squeaking and hiding behind Luka and Kim flexing in his direction.

“Pussy.” Chloe says.

And just because Marinette is close enough to him, she can hear Adrien say, “You have no idea.” which makes her scoff, rolling her eyes. 

Yeah, his Chat is definitely ready to come out of the bag. 

With that, Chloe calls them all to get ready to head down to the party, instructing everyone to ignore any classmates from Francoise Dupont that could raise problems. “We are ridiculously kick ass, and we look ridiculously kick ass, so let’s get down there, have a good time, and go! Kick! Some! Ass!”

“Metaphorically, of course…” Luka drawls.

“Yes.” Kagami nods. “Metaphorically.”

They’re two hours into the party.

Adrien is riding the fake bull that Mayor Andre rented at request of Chloe, ragingly drunk, giggling, and showing off while Luka sits a few feet away, monitoring him—alongside Marinette—while pretending to play one of his katanas like a guitar, making the heroine giggle at all his funny noises.

Meanwhile, Kagami and Chloe are making out on the back deck of the giant party room, which Marinette discovered when she tried to ask Chloe where the towels are (Kim spilled his drink) and politely had Tikki lock the door for them so nobody else could see.

Though, she does feel a bit intrusive, but then again, they could have locked the door all by themselves.

While they’re kissing, Kim is standing on one of the tables with a group that started with Alix and Max and ended with over twenty people surrounding him, rapping all of the Epic Rap Battles of history that he can—using Mjolnir as a microphone.

Nino, in good fashion, is helping the DJ—meaning taking over completely and letting them get paid for doing literally nothing—and blasting good dancing music over the bull noises and rapping. Marinette dances next to Luka, who makes his little twangs and chirrs to go along with the music.

A few hours later, she’s interrupted from having a dance off with Adrien over Get Into It (Yuh) by Nino pulling Kim right up to her.

“Hey!” She shouts—not drunk, but certainly getting there (she definitely hasn’t been sending Damian and Jon countless texts, pictures and updates). “You guys look fun!”

“Go on,” Nino motions forward with his seppuku blade, a single purple braid out of place, hanging next to his right eye. “Tell her what you just told me.”

Kim grabs Marinette by the shoulders and shakes her just a little bit, grinning and bouncing to the music. “You guys are my besties! My super-hero besties! Bug and Shelly.” A giggle. “You’re so cute, but shh... you’re not allowed to know that I know, okay? Even Alix can’t know. They know everything!”

She was a fool to think he was still oblivious to both her and Nino’s heroics.

And an even bigger fool to think that Nino, who is observant and intelligent, didn’t know about hers.

“Yeah, shh ,” Marinette says, holding a finger up to her lips. “Kim doesn’t know!”

“Yeah!” He cheers. “Kim doesn’t know!”

Nino and her just stare at each other after he dashes away, in search of Alix, who has a bunch of Jello shots in their hand, badgering Max into taking one. She grins. “So this whole team reveal is pretty see-through, isn’t it?”

“Painfully.” He agrees, grinning. “We should still pretend for Adrien’s sake, right?”

Marinette giggles. “Oh, definitely.”

Kagami appears right by them, making both heroes jump with a yelp. “I agree.”

“ Gah! A warning, dude!”

“Seriously! You scared me.”

Hazel eyes blink at them, and then she backs away with a single “Warning.” thrown over her shoulder, the scythe helping part the way through the crowd for her. The two best friends look at each other for only a few seconds before they crack up.

“Wanna compete on the bull?” Marinette asks. “First one off has to do Halloween clean-up patrol. Deal?”

A serious and determined look floods his brown eyes. “Deal.”

After everyone sobers up, makes their excuses and heads home—which is only awkward for Chloe, given, she is home—Marinette and Adrien transform in her room, head up to the Eiffel Tower to open a portal with Kaalki’s powers to one of her hidden discoveries in Iceland.

It’s this little cliff side that has a lake at the bottom, one for swimming and looking at the stars. Her and Adrien came the night before and set up three tents he bought, alongside one for food and all the works—Tikki blessed the area with luck so no animals or weather would ruin it.

They want this night to be magical.

And perfect.

So before anything, they change into their Ladybug and Chat Noir themed pajamas, strictly because Abeille insisted on them being able to identify one another off the bat. She knows who everyone is the least out of the others, and Marinette has a feeling that Nino found out about Ryuko tonight.

And that was probably just to make Kagami less nervous herself.

Setting up, Marinette gets her and Nino’s tent ready, wrapping herself up with a blanket and getting out the s’mores and lining them up on the tables in the food tent, sitting out on one of the folding chairs, waiting for the rest of her team to arrive as Adrien paces nervously back and forth.

“Why are you worrying?” She asks, letting her marshmallow set on fire. She likes them black and tangy, and likes watching them bubble up. They remind her of Cataclysm, collapsing stars, and Damian Al Ghul. “You’ve been excited for this all day.”

“Because!” Adrien says, hands raising to his hair, stressing. “Now I’m not Adrien the model, or the son of the fashion designer. I’m the son of the dead lady and the guy who hired Mayura! And out of the public, I’m the son of Hawkmoth! And they’ll know that!”

This causes Plagg’s shadow to move out from under his feet to gather by the food tent with Tikki (since she’s been feeding off the fire and chocolate alike).

“But they’ll also know you’re a hero, Chaton. And that’s what’s more important.”

He pouts, and finally collapses in one of the folding chairs next to her. “Hand me a marshie.”

“That better be a celebratory ‘marshie’ Chat Noir, because my best bro isn’t allowed to be sad right now.” Nino’s voice calls out, dressed in a Carapace themed hoodie that Marinette made for Alya a few years back that he ended up stealing before their break-up. “‘Cause we’re heroes!”

“Nino!” Adrien cheers, rising to his feet, pausing, and then gaping. “Nino? Nino . You’re—you’re Cara! Hi! I’m-”

“Dude, I know!” Nino quickly runs down the small hill to them, and the portal goes back to its calm grey-brown—Kaalki unleashed by her glasses on top of Adrien’s head, making the cat ears on his onesie fall down like he’s sad. “We’re super-bros!”

Her partner giggles. “I know! I got some white chocolate for you!”

Nino holds a hand over his heart. “ Dude. ”

“Dude!”

The next one through the portal is Kagami, who’s wearing a silk set of shorts and pajama shirt that is mostly red and gold, but the tell-tale sign that it’s Ryuko themed is the pointed scutes going down her back. She stares at them from the top of the hill, assessing.

“Hello.”

“Yo! Gami! Have you had a s’more before?” Adrien cheers. “They’re fire roasted, a dragon like you should appreciate them! The s’more you eat, the better they are!”

Kagami wrinkles her nose and comes to sit politely next to Marinette, looking her over with a nod. “Do you eat them?”

She grins and wipes a bit of chocolate from her cheek. “I love them.”

“Ugh!” Chloe’s shrill voice sounds out, coming to stand at the top of the hill with a little bee outfit, crown over her breast pocket, having changed into a different set of gold pumps. “I’m late? That’s ridiculous—” Then, the whole circle joins in with: “—utterly ridiculous!”

Glaring at them, she still comes down without managing to insult anyone.

Moving over to sit next to Kagami, a move the other girl doesn’t miss, seeing as she flushes and quickly looks away (and Marinette has never been more invested in their love life than right now) Chloe sizes Adrien up. “This really should have been more obvious.”

“I’m glad you could come,” Adrien says in response, nodding. “The s’more the merrier.”

“You’re suddenly more annoying, Adrikins. I wonder if you should get checked for fleas.”

A loud and sharp bass tune rings out, the melody of guitar strings getting plucked echoing around the valley and water as the portal flashes blue, Luka stepping out next, landing easily on his feet, one hand gripping the neck of his guitar and the other in his pocket. He’s wearing black pajama pants and a scale-print tank top, the red chalk out of his hair.

Luka grins, and his blue eyes settle on Adrien. “Hey, Chat.”

Adrien is, apparently, stunned speechless for the first time, and can only gape—green eyes wide, cheeks red.

“Now that, Chloe,” Nino snarks out, pointing up at the snake. “Is how someone is fashionably late.”

“Choco- late …” Adrien mumbles.

“No.” Chloe argues. “ I was fashionably late. He was socially unacceptable late.”

“Oh yeah?” Luka himself challenges. Playing as Deadpool for so long seems to have given him the urge to talk more, and strum the strings in place of a verbal response less. “Then why’d I look so cool doing it?”

The bee huffs, but before she can respond, Adrien is letting out a giddy laugh, jumping out of his seat and rushes right to Luka—jumping on him, legs around his waist, and the taller boy catches him almost immediately, guitar pulled over his back—and she watches the portal to fizzle out with a pop!

“Moony!” He says, cupping his face in his hands. “It’s you.”

“It’s me, Sunshine. Don’t forget it.” Luka replies, then casts his attention down to the group. “Everyone, give us a little respect and look away real quick.”

Marinette doesn’t want to risk seeing whatever he doesn’t want them to, and coughs loudly to drown out the sound of Adrien’s surprised noise and kissing. “So everyone, like, fully understands why Viperion and Ryuko are the ones in charge while we go to America, right?”

“It makes a lot more sense now.” Nino admits. “I had no clue who was under their masks.”

Kagami's eyes widened, startled, and her posture gets impossibly more perfect. “You didn’t.”

“Dude, you surprised me so bad all I could do was laugh.”

“I was certain that you knew before I said that.” She frowns.

Nino shrugs, hands raised like what can you do and so Marinette turns to Chloe while they keep talking about their guesses, behavior, how Kagami knew about Carapace and then, eventually, their least favorite akumas. He didn’t like getting akumatized himself, but she didn’t mind it.

“So…” Marinette trails off, wiggling her eyebrows. The young politician scoffs at her. “What’s new?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t see us, Mari, it’s totally unbecoming.” Chloe informs, blue eyes nervous as they look everywhere but at her. “I just—I realized that I didn’t care who’s under Ryuko’s mask because I actually know Kiki and deserve to give someone like her my all, compared to Ryuko who’s all business. Little did I know!”

She raises a black eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you liked Ryuko too, Ille.”

“Well, I didn’t like, really know her.” The blonde says, flicking a curly piece of hair over one shoulder. “I just… she’s nice to me in uniform and really hot, so like, of course I was kind of into her.”

“Good thing she’s Kagami then, huh?” Marinette asks in a giggle.

“It does solve some problems.” Chloe admits.

“Okay!” Adrien shouts, literally running down the hill—causing Marinette to hold her breath as she waits for her partner to wipe out. “We’re back.”

“Couffaine was never here in the first place, Adrikins.”

“Ta-may-to, To-ma-to.” He brushes off.

Marinette raises her arm, bringing attention to herself, and without hesitation, the whole group quiets down. She thinks this makes sense, them knowing that she’s Ladybug now and them acting like she’s more dominant socially too. “Are literally any of you surprised?”

A low note strums out. “I barely know Nino.”

Nino himself makes a face. “Chloe. Chloe Bourgeois ?”

“ Hey- ”

“She earned it.” Marinette says, nodding sternly. “She proved to me privately and through her actions that she’s more than capable of being a great hero and a good teammate. The fact that more than half of you didn’t even know that Queen Bee and Abeille are the same person proves that.”

If anyone is going to question Chloe as a choice to be a miraculous holder, she isn’t going to make the heroine defend herself.

Kagami raises her chin. “I think Abeille is the best of us.”

The look in Chloe’s blue eyes say that she didn’t expect this. She was ready to jump at her own defense, probably knowing that someone wouldn’t be happy with her, but she doesn’t seem to know how to handle someone complimenting her, let alone so proudly.

“Well, that settles it,” Adrien says. “This team really is like family.”

Nino motions to where Luka is kissing the blond’s hand. “This is one messed up family tree.”

“Hey! Not in front of the kids!” Her partner scolds in return.

“What kids, Chaton?” Marinette rolls her eyes.

“Y’know,” Motioning to Kagami and herself, Adrien couldn’t pick anyone else less believable than them, and though the grin on his face says he knows that, the confident way he continues doesn’t. “You two.”

This has the whole group coming at him, Luka cheering or booing using the different strings of his guitar, and Adrien jumping at Kagami with a stick like it’s one of their fencing swords but she easily ‘disarms’ him with a flick of the wrist.

Marinette looks around, smiles, and presses another marshmallow onto her stick.

“Tonight was good.” She tells Nino. “I couldn’t be prouder of this group.”

“Who’re you wishing was here?” He asks—used to her wanting a little change, needing to feel like it’s perfect.

In the moment, it’s easy for her to immediately want to say Kim or Al Ghul , or even Jon , but then she really thinks about it, looks to where her silly kitty is still egging on the dragon, where Chloe is taping them with her phone while muttering “This is why they say don’t poke a sleeping bear.” and everything…

Everything just seems perfect . So she looks at him, blue eyes genuine and says, “Just us.”

Right now, that’s all she needs.

Just us .

Chapter Text

Ladybug had started out on patrol with only Chat Noir, who’s key work habit back then was just trying to annoy the akumas into submission or be the big, loud, blond distraction while the heroine himself was able to use Lucky Charm and take down the threat. 

Then they grew up, he got better and she got less controlling, and they learned how to flow together, rushing over rooftops with grace, focus and something close to love but closer to companionship.

It was nice, just the two of them.

But then, in less than a year, Master Fu came prancing up to them with Rena Rogue and Carapace in tow, smiling in that twisted burnt-temple way of his. She had been telling him all about her new friend who stood up for her and took all her battles right between the ribs.

Looking back, Adrien must have been telling him all about his new friend too—about all the ways that the young DJ fought against Gabriel for him, about the passion and tiredness that is Nino Lahiffe. It makes sense he was chosen, it makes sense Fu wanted him to be the guardian.

It was hard looking at them and not letting her young teenage brain see their replacements.

Master Fu was apologetic for not giving them a warning, partly—fake, it must have been—but he was strict and demanding, said that they needed to be trained and Ladybug and Chat Noir were the ones to do it, and this was before she learned to trust Chat, so she looked at the three of them and saw her team instead of partners.

“Any attention you can spare should go to these heroes.”

That’s what he always called them: heroes.

Both Carapace and Rena looked older than her, and Ladybug was struggling between her kindness and insecurity about having someone she thought was an adult be under her. She didn’t talk to anyone about this, back then. Then the Ladyblog came along and started to boost her confidence.

She remembers being thirteen and watching one of Alya’s latest outtakes, wondering how she could possibly be guessing so correctly (she wishes Master Fu never told her).

“Chat Noir has taken down over fifteen of the affected zombies, blew a massive hole in the side of the Sainte-Chapelle to lure them all in, and now, our favorite turtle themed hero is nowhere in sight! He may have gotten lost in the rubble, folks!”

Alya bit her lip, and Marinette had pathetically wondered why she was so nervous.

“These two heroes could certainly learn a little bit from Ladybug and her caution! Here’s a PSA, guys, you can regret being too cautious, but you can definitely regret going with your knee-jerk reaction more.” She had to run around the edge of the building. “You can learn something from Ladybug in this regard, oh, um-”

“Watch out!” Ladybug shouted off-camera, grabbed Alya and dropped her onto a rooftop, the camera shakily shoved in the journalist’s armpit. “Be more careful please, we’re swamped and the last thing we need is more zombies.”

Alya had taken a shot of Ladybug swinging away, back curving alongside her yo-yo string, knees bent as she flips over towards the chapel that Chat was herding all the zombies too—trying to lure whatever Akuma it was that made them to the confined space.

Then she made some excuse of logging off. Marinette should have made the connection then that the blogger put her phone down the same time that Rena Rogue picked her flute up, but she was blind to it. Master Fu once told her that people know what they want.

Remembering this, she supposes that it’s true.

“C’mere zombie, zombie, zombie!” Chat had said, using a baby voice and dangling his staff over a herd of them, bouncing along light poles to get them into the crowd. “Good zombie!”

Ladybug was scowling. “I can’t believe this is working when he’s so-”

“Charming?” Rena had said. “I know.”

Back then, her suit was bright and her red looked fitting next to Rena’s orange—ladybug dots and fox stripes pressed together when they hugged in celebration, and it was one of the happiest moments of her entire life. But then Lila came, and she wasn’t peaceful at all.

Marinette was helpless outside of the suit. Exhale, inhale, she always told herself. She had to remember that peace comes from war. Exhale, inhale, and try to move on.

She never was good at that.

In response to all of her Halloween pictures, Damian sends back pictures of the charity ball all dressed up in the outfit that she made him—alongside pictures of all his siblings, especially Cassandra—pointedly without Jon having to suggest that he do so.

She giggles over them before school, and immediately calls him ignoring the facetime button because her cheeks are stained red and she feels a little bit too flustered when he answers.

“Yes?”

“You looked so good, Damian!” She shouts over the phone, holding it with both hands. “You are so handsome and holy shit! You could pass as a real god, Brute! And Cassandra was so pretty! Oh, please next Halloween can we have a Norse god theme? You could be an amazing Heimdall! Please?”

Damian makes a little noise in the back of his throat that she doesn’t know how to translate. “We can do that if you want, Angel. However, I would like to pick who you represent.”

“Deal!” She giggles.

“Marinette!” Papa’s voice echoes up the stairs, and Tikki’s mauve shadow grows into the corner of her room. Since the reveal, she’s been spending a lot of time with the other kwamis in the box (Marinette was surprised that the other kwamis are small, coming up to maybe her hips—that Plagg was the biggest one, and Tikki the oldest). “Time for school!”

“Don’t be late!” Maman scolds.

On the line, Damian scoffs. “It sounds like you should get going, Dupain-Cheng.”

“Will you tell me about the ball? Just text me or email me, or anything?” She asks, nearly pouting. “I really want to know how your night went! And I can tell you how my Halloween went!”

Even if I have to leave out the best part…

“It was tedious.” He warns.

“You feel that way about most things.” The heroine points out.

The Wayne boy agrees and they say their goodbyes, and on the whole way to school, Marinette’s phone keeps buzzing with his messages—this time in their private messages (given most time when they talk, it’s in the group chat with Jon; Marinette thinks he feels safer talking when his best friend is there).

Adrien gives her a look as they’re heading to the classroom door. “I hate to be this guy, but they’ll probably hound you for being like, distracting or something, for buzzing during class.”

“Not nearly as distracting as all those marks on your neck, Chaton.” Marinette replies easily, but turns her phone on silent anyway.

The blond gapes at her, and only Kim coming down the hall—bouncing with excitement and playfully body-checking Adrien—knocks him out of it. “Hey guys! Halloween was so fun! Me, Alix, Max and Ondine all went to Le Coin ’s pool after and tried not to drown!”

“Kim!” Marinette scolds. “You know to stay out of the water when you’re drunk.”

“Don’t be mean,” He raises his hands defensively. “Chlo made sure that we all had those arm floaties or life vests on. She’s way more responsible now. Oh! Did you know that they’re dating now?”

Adrien’s nose wrinkles. “Who?”

“Alix and Ondine!”

Marinette and Adrien both start at this, but she’s the one to continue with a surprised (but not displeased) smile. “I didn’t, no. But I’m happy for them!” She eyes him. “Are you okay with that?”

“Oh yeah, I’m over her,” The athlete waves his hand dismissively, grinning just a bit. “I think I’ve got a thing for Lyta’s best friend.” He blurts. “She keeps talking about her, so I feel like I know her already. And she’s so pretty and smart, and has the snap- quick sarcastic anger and she’s way out of my league!”

“Just how you like them, Le Chien.” Chloe snarks, not even bothering to continue with the conversation as she moves past them all and into the class—pulling the protesting Adrien along by a firm grip on his arm. 

Marinette ignores a pleading look from his green eyes with an innocently polite wave goodbye before turning back up to her best friend. “What’s her name?”

“Jamie Clever.”

Nino comes around the corner, headphones on, head down, not paying attention. Marinette and Kim let him go between them before catching both of his arms between either of theirs, making him yelp but she just keeps the conversation up, surely confusing him.

“Pretty name.” The heroine says. “But why haven’t I heard about her before?”

“Nino knows about her, but the last time I went to tell you about her, you started talking about Al Ghul so I honestly just forgot that I was gonna say something. You know that a lot of the time I forget that just because Nino knows something, it doesn’t mean you know that something.”

Nino leans away from them. “Can I go now, or…?”

“Why would we ever let you go, cuddle-bear?” Kim jokes, pulling the now startled Nino right into his chest, nose pressing into his braids, eyes closed. “You’re ours.”

“Don’t bring me into this, I don’t like this whole weird thing you got going on.” Marinette says, motioning between them.

“Save me.” Nino pleads, and overhead the warning bell rings—but Kim just keeps coddling him. Marinette takes a few steps back, shrugging as though she’s saying sorry, can’t help . “No! Mari! Please! Save me! Don’t leave me here alone with this lunatic-”

“Awh, pooh-bear, don’t talk about me like that!”

Marinette dunks in the room quickly but immediately regrets being over the top with it when Lila and Alya look up from their desk with a dirty look, especially when Chloe is too busy showing Adrien stuff on her phone and talking to notice all of it.

“Sorry…” She mumbles.

“You should be.” Lila says, scoffing. “I was talking about my soulmate, and it’s rude to burst into a room without knowing what’s going on on the other side.”

“Soulmate?” Despite herself, Marinette makes a face. Adrien catches her eye, and so she remembers to wave them off, turning away. “Forget I asked.”

“His name is Damian Wayne!” Alya snaps. “Everyone here knows it.”

“Oh yeah?” Chloe’s head snaps up, though she definitely missed everything that came right before this very moment. “Then why does Lila still say that it needs to be a secret.”

“A secret from the public , Chloe.” Hazel eyes roll at the Bourgeois girl, who scoffs in return. “When you’re influential like the Wayne’s, you can’t go around sharing all your personal stuff online, especially about your partner. A lot of people could take advantage of them.”

“I am influential like the Wayne’s.” Chloe deadpans, standing up and getting to her own seat so Marinette can sit next to her partner. “And I’d be pissed if my girlfriend was gossiping to a whole class of dumb teenagers about me without checking if they even agree to keep it a secret, or sign NDAs.”

Adrien nods along—and she can’t believe that people always forget how many important people send their kids to this school that have nothing to do with Lila Rossi. “Also, if you’ve really been together for as long as you say you have, then he should’ve done a press release with you already. It helps prepare you for everything.”

“You’re just gossiping to gossip, and you have no clue who the Wayne’s really are,” Continuing, the blonde flicks hair over her shoulder, hand turned down to point at her with a glossy blue nail. “You’re a liar.”

“I’m not lying!” Lila defends, crossing her arms, fake tears wielding in her eyes. “Dami is protecting me.”

A twinge of pain goes through Marinette’s heart, and her eyes drop down to her hands as they clasp in front of her at the desk. Damian is not Lila Rossi’s, and he’s not Marinette’s either, but he’s certainly someone she wishes to protect. His name needs to stop coming out of her mouth.

Adrien’s hand wraps around her wrist, and she lifts her head up to his. He nods at her, a silent I’m here and it gets her to smile.

“How’d his charity go?” He asks quietly. He’s kind of pieced together Damian being a Wayne, or at least a worker at Wayne Enterprises and Marinette hasn’t bothered to correct anything. It’s not her place.

“He actually enjoyed it because he was able to correct a lot of people’s views about the Greek and Roman gods, including one of his sister’s.” Marinette answers. 

“That’s really good! You said he doesn’t like crowds, right?”

“Yeah.” She nods. “He doesn’t. So when he does manage to enjoy himself in one, I feel, like, strangely proud.”

Adrien grins. “You should! Everyone should be proud of their ‘friends’.”

Marinette agrees, and their conversation continues on. She really likes knowing about Damian, the little things that matter, not just that he’s a Wayne or who’s son he is. The actually important things.

Like him liking Greek mythology, and painting, and how he will never agree that him and Jon are soulmates like Jon says, and how he refuses to tell some of his family he loves them but he loves them so, so much, that his favorite color is green because evergreen trees are green, and he likes the stars but not the ocean for the same reason: vast infinity.

Lila lives in a world where she has to fabricate all these things because she’s so, so unhappy otherwise.

Marinette will never join her there.

“Why does it matter who her boyfriend is?” Rose shouts, rising to her feet—snapping the two heroes back into the conversation they didn’t bother to notice anymore. Chloe’s still arguing with them, which makes Adrien sigh. “They’re in love! That’s all that should matter.”

“What matters, you insolent little flower, is that Lila isn’t telling the truth .” Chloe moves her hands along her words as if she’s spelling something out. “And that she doesn’t know the Wayne’s. Why can’t you get it through your tiny skull that every story she tells is over the top and full of shit?”

Lila gasps. “How dare you-”

“She’s not lying!” Alya snaps.

“Don’t insult Rose…” Juleka mumbles, barely loud enough to hear.

“Hey.” Ivan frowns, arms crossing. “Be nice to the girls!”

Rose pouts, lips wobbling tearfully. “You’re terrible Chloe!” 

“Oh I’m terrible?” Chloe just about shouts. “All of you are the terrible ones! None of you are kind anymore and none of you even care! I don’t know how you have your heads all up in the crowds, kissing Lila’s ass all while up your own, but you all manage it quite nicely.”

“Miss Bourgeois!” Madam Bustier gasps, and strictly because she doesn’t bother to chastise anyone else, Marinette didn’t even notice her come in. “That is quite enough!”

“Even I’ve grown up.” She huffs, getting one last sting in, slumping back into her chair, blonde hair falling down her back. “Why can’t you?”

Marinette can’t help but to look down to Alya, who just glares up to her. One of the few times that it’s like this, she doesn’t feel hurt or disappointed, or even mad, when looking at her ex-best friend. She just looks at her, receiving a terribly angry and disgusted look back, and only feels sad.

One day the fourteen year old girl that fell completely into Lila Rossi’s trap is going to wake up in Alya’s eighteen year old body, angry and confused as to why suddenly, all that she’s worked for is gone.

And she is no longer going to have a best friend to fall back on.

The next day when Marinette walks into class, Lila is crying and only sobs harder when she walks past. Marinette is just so over it that she doesn’t even care, she just greets Nino with a fist-bump, lets Adrien (who’s still eating a few sweets from home) to his seat and giggles over Kagami with Chloe.

“So she just, like, announced that you’re together?” Marinette asks. “That is very Kagami-like.”

Chloe grins—it’s the first time that she’s seen her like this; lopsided and flushed. It’s very genuine and only a little startling to see. “I don’t really think that she’s ever asked someone out before.”

“Oh, you’re her first!” She giggles again when the blonde nods bashfully. “You better not break her heart, Bourgeois, because you know you’ll be answering to Luka and Adrien will always call you the one that got-”

Hands slam down on their table, causing both girls to jump and Marinette grabs onto one of Chloe’s arms and the edge of her bench, leaning into the girl’s side. Adrien’s voice cuts off from where he was animatedly talking to Nino about one of the latest episodes of their shared anime series.

“How fucking dare you!” Alya sneers out.

Marinette looks around for context and only hears Lila crying. “Um… how dare I be happy for my friend?” 

Sometimes, unbelievably, they do get mad when her and Chloe, or even Chloe and Adrien, seem like they’re enjoying everyone’s company a little too much.

“No,” Growling this out, Alya pokes her finger against one of Marinette’s collarbones hard . “How dare you put your hands on Lila. We’re not in freshman year anymore, Marinette, grow up! You’re a bully and a narcissist! And I hate you! I’m so glad we’re not friends anymore! You never deserved to be my friend so keep your hands off the ones I have now.”

It’s like her whole world slows down.

She can’t process anything other than the nail cutting into her, other than the angry words, but even those feel far away, like Alya is impossibly taller yet right in her face. Her body locks in place, cheeks heating with embarrassment, but hands going cold with fear.

“The next time that you get physical with her,” Alya leans down closer, right in her personal space. “ I’m getting physical with you.”

Without much warning, Kim is right there , grabbing onto Alya’s wrist and practically shoving her back into the desk behind her. “Back off.” He growls.

Adrien’s hands land on Marinette’s shoulders, and she hiccups out a breath, wide-eyed, not able to do anything other than sit there, breathe heavy and try not to drown in the feeling of it—in the weight of Alya’s words, the sting of her hand on her.

How fucking dare you!

“Take it to Principal Damocles.” Nino says.

“You know she doesn’t want to take this to the authorities.” Alya says, but her temper seems to die down a bit in the face of her ex. “She doesn’t want to get Marinette —” She spits her name like poison. “—in actual trouble. Not for something like pushing her over in the courtyard. Even if she hurt her wrist badly!”

“Oh yeah,” Chloe snaps. Marinette notices her phone in hand, camera glinting right at the temperamental girl. “Because she’s such a good person.”

“You say that she pushed her in the courtyard, there’ll be a video of it.” He deadpans. “And the only reason she doesn’t want Damocles to check is because it didn’t happen.”

Alya doubles down. “I don’t have to listen to what you’re saying anymore, Nino.”

I hate you!

Kim steps between them and Marinette can only see the desk in front of her, rimmed with different shades of dark grey around the edges, and Adrien squeezes her shoulders like he’s trying to comfort her but it does nothing. All she can hear is Alya’s replies.

All she can feel is the nail poking into her. All she can do is sit there and do nothing.

And it’s terrible .

“Just because we’re not together you don’t have the decency to listen to me anymore? I hadn’t realized that your ability to be a cool and fair person depends on how willing I am to be in a relationship with you.” Nino says, entirely fed up—but to Marinette, it just sounds like white noise. “So go.”

“Go? Go! You don’t get to tell me to-”

“Yeah I do. I absolutely do.” He nods. “Because we’re not together so I don’t have to listen to what you say anymore, Alya. Go check the tapes or don’t come back, and you don’t get to make a choice other than those things.”

“That means scram.” Chloe informs.

“Whatever.” Alya huffs. “Marinette got her warning. That’s all I care about.”

You never deserved to be my friend .

Marinette finds herself in the bathroom, throwing up her breakfast, Adrien holding onto her hair as he rubs circles into her back. She pulls away, wiping her mouth on some of the paper towels he got for her, catching her tears on her jacket sleeve.

“Why does—why does she hate me so much?” She asks, voice catching with a sob. 

The heroine simply can’t understand how Alya could go so fluently from having her back and supporting her through all of her insecurities to not liking her and using them against her. She always thought that people don’t swing between extremities that quick.

“I don’t, I don’t know what I did wrong!” Marinette continues, angrily wiping at her tears. “I must have done something wrong…”

“No, Bugaboo,” Adrien shakes his head, letting her hair go and crouching down next to her, holding out two pieces of gum—one wrapped in white foil, and the other pink. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She grabs the pink gum, and he eats the white one while she speaks. “Then why… why is she like this? ”

“Sometimes people hear something from the people they trust and they know that the only way to keep that person around is to believe it. That to disagree is just as good as saying they don’t want to be in that relationship anymore. And the thing they’re blindly trusting is worth less to them than the person they’d lose… so they’d cave.”

Marinette’s heart seems to feel just a little bit more heavy.

“So I’m worth less than Lila…” 

“Mari, you—you’re worth the world.” Adrien leans forward and bumps their foreheads together. “Some people just can’t see that.”

She frowns, her eyes feel wet and she doesn’t feel brave enough to try standing again. Not when her hands are still shaking. “Thanks, Kitty. I just. I don’t…”

“I know you don’t see it either.” The hero leans back to sit on the checkered tile, and she admires his gull for a second to sit on a school bathroom floor. “You will one day, but that just might make it harder to understand why people are mean to you, honestly.”

“Thanks, Minou.” Marinette rolls her eyes.

“I barely understand it myself.”

“And I understand your point.”

“You’re just so nice and stuff.”

“As you’ve said, Adrien.”

“Like, you make the best sweets.”

“Chaton, I get it.”

“You’re pretty cool, too.”

“ Adrien. ”

“Fine, fine, I conceded,” The silly kitty raises his hands defensively. “As long as you know that I can see it, and our team sees it, then I’ll stop talking now.”

“Oh yeah?” Marinette asks. “For how long?”

His grin is the only answer.

Chapter Text

Though she took her sketchbook to go through every boring moment during her freshman year, when she was supposed to be working on her school projects every time that she was paired with Chloe Bourgeois or Sabrina Raincompix (because back then, one was always with the other), it didn’t do her much use.

One project about the impact of littering, Chloe sat in the corner of the Dupain-Cheng’s bakery and complained for over an hour, but didn’t leave because Marinette promised not to do any work without her present.

Maman wanted to kick her out.

Marinette smashed her face into her sketchbook after every sly comment about the bakery, her hair, anything, so after hours of pent up rage at the nicknames of Dupain-Stain, baker girl and the countless others that Chloe rained down on her, because she understood that when she raged back against her, it never had the same result.

It never spawned the same amount of anger or pain—if anything, it made her smirk and laugh.

So she breathed out, and back in.

And she kept working.

They were often forced together, alone , for a reason—they were the two that tended to give their teacher the biggest headaches (through personalities, demands, clumsiness)—and so of course, they were just trying to squish their hardest work into one space.

Chloe and Marinette. Together.

When Madam Bustier came along (multiple times) she stuck them together, for the same reason of headaches, but also because she always thinks that one good student could change one bad student simply by proximity. She doesn’t care about the bad student needing to want to change.

And when Chloe did change, eventually, but only during a time Marinette and Sabrina— good students —left her alone, and that just confirmed every thought in Madam Bustier’s mind.

Then Lila entered the scene.

She started telling all of her lies at the same time that Marinette was the favorite Class President, and her life exploded in a brown-hazel glint, twist and form into lonely days and change into manipulated personalities and fall to the ground—and she had to squeeze her eyes shut most days.

Sometimes there will be lonely girls telling lies to anyone who will listen because she’s bored.

Having to deal with that in civilian form while maintaining composure as Ladybug wasn’t something that Marinette thought of when weighing the pros and cons of heroism. Because to Ladybug, what happens to Marinette Dupain-Cheng doesn’t matter.

Truths are replaceable to some minds. So if Lila actually wants to affect Marinette the way she’s desperate to, she should have gone after Ladybug instead.

Marinette wakes up the next day to find an alert from The Ladyblog. It says: 

Name Change! Ladyblog’s new name while this changes to more local news for high school students to follow and stay safe at Francoise Dupont & surrounding areas the name for this blog is changing to Lilablog! If you want to know more about this change, click here .

In the article, Lila not only claims that she’s the co-class president of Francoise Dupont and in charge of the entire trip to Gotham, but she’s also joining the blog—as if she hadn’t already been supervising everything that Alya was putting out—to document everything that happens at her ‘hypocritical anti-bullying’ school.

Which, it scares Marinette in a way.

This could follow her all the way into the future, this could impact the way that her future clients and employers see her, it could be the reason she’s not hired. If not for the way that they have a policy of not calling anyone by name. Even if they’re bad or the next messiah.

No name drops.

Marinette knows it’s because she’s lying but everyone else thinks that she’s being kind—kinder than they would be in the same circumstances (given the first update is a run-down of events from freshman year to now that lasted four and a half hours, and the second was the story about ‘a class bully’ pushing Lila down and straining her wrist).

She stays quiet about it until Nino and Kim come up to her at the bakery, asking, “What do we do when she talks about being co-class president?”

“We prove her wrong through the decisions I make as class president. Kim, try to keep updated on everything that she’s saying. Especially about things that can’t be disputed, like promising people they can room together or the bus scheduling.”

It’s little things, she believes, that could get people to stop believing her. 

“Even Bustier can’t take that power away from me, I’m the one who won the Wayne Enterprises tour and board—she’s just the one who set up the trip with Gotham Academy.” And she’s proud that her connection to Damian had nothing to do about it.

Marinette won’t abuse that connection.

But she will make Lila look like a fool.

She told Damian about what happened with Alya and warned Jon that she’s willing to get physical with the people that disagree with her. She didn’t expect Damian to rage, and rage, and him to have to get off the phone because of it. To have to go paint it off.

They end up texted, hours later, when he’s calmed down (or at least, says he’s calmed down).

Malaki
Since he thinks that Alya is blindly trusting Lila, why would she care about her more than me?
I was a good friend :(

Brute <3
Because of the things the wench has promised her.

Brute <3
I should ruin her life.

Malaki
Nino said she’s already done that herself
I just want to know why