#cassinette

[mysticprofessoralienhumanoid]

Jason: Okay, let's go over this again. What do we do when something goes wrong?

Duke: We try to fix it before Marinette and/or Alfred get back.

Jason: And if that doesn't work?

Steph: We blame Bruce.

Jason: Good.

[dcmiracles]

HELLO ONE AND ALL AND WELCOME TO A NEW DC X MIRACULOUS EVENT !

I would like to start of that this event is meant to spread positivity, creativity and joy ! I grew up loving and adoring dc and mlb and hero's and magic and this fandom has re-awoken my love for these properties!

I would love to start a two month event of sharing , creating and just exploring idea's !

This whole event is to enjoy being creative and write, draw or just make something !

DC MIRACULES IS AN EVENT TO PROMOTE YOUR IDEA'S , WRITE AND MEET NEW PEOPLE !

I encourage you to explore all of miraculous and dc and make creations with who ever you want ! Again ! This is an event to promote Artists, writers and people !

At the end of the event we will be having a vote of which media, artist, fic or art has motivated you the most !

The winner of these votes / categories will receive one free art piece of their choice !

If you would like to participate please list your work under Dc miracles event !

The categories in question !

Family ( chosen / found, blood / birth ) -Monday Rare pares ! ( Platonic or romantic ) - Tuesday Hurt / comfort ( angst and fluff ) - Wednesday A.us - Thursday Favorite "well known " ships ! -Friday Positivity ! ( this will be a day to write a fic, ship , draw or shout out a friends work in the fandom !!) -Saturday

Sunday will be a free day ! you do not have to write anything ! in fact i would like this day to be for enjoyment and read others work or simply relax !

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

OHSHCAU (Keysmash)

Part 3

Prev

You know how, when the school year starts up, a teacher might get everyone to go around the room and give a couple of vague facts about themselves? Or, even worse, they might split everyone up into teams based on some random, inconsequential factors and they would all be forced to work together on some dumb task? That way they can get to know new people better?

You know how everyone hates that?

Yeah. Marinette thought that, of all people, her fellow high schoolers would understand. But alas, here she was, glaring down Dick because he wanted to do a team-building exercise. Bastard. She was going to shoot him.

With a paintball gun! Because they were playing paintball!

Do not send cops her way! She will introduce neurotoxins to your system!

Anyways, she had no choice but to agree. Debt’s a bitch.

And, maybe, the idea of shooting the Waynes point blank in the face with paintballs would have swayed her regardless, but who knows. The option was never truly given to her, so who’s to say how she would have reacted?

Certainly, the Waynes would never know.

Which was probably for the best. They could end her life in a couple of phone calls.

She hummed as she absently messed with her paintball gun. They had been split off into pairs. Steph was still on the bench thanks to her copious amounts of injuries, unfortunately, so Marinette hadn’t particularly minded who she was going to end up with (she hated all of the Waynes equally, save fucking Tim, who would avoid her, anyway), and had allowed them to all pair off and leave her with the leftovers.

She was regretting that, now, of course.

Dick wrapped his arm around her shoulders and tugged her into his side. “Don’t get too competitive, please?” He said, and he sounded like he was one more ‘fuck you’ away from begging.

She glanced over his shoulder and found Tim making faces at her behind his back. He was supposed to be heading to one of the other nondescript, frankly unnerving steel tunnels that would lead them to a random place on the map. He should be spending this time with Damian so they could discuss their plans. He was not doing any of these things. He had followed Marinette and Dick to their room instead, and she would be concerned about him trying to figure out where they would end up for the sake of a tactical advantage… but, frankly, that was too smart for him.

He had no good reason to be here. How sweet of him to want to see her off.

She looked back at Dick, her eyes gleaming. “Of course I won’t. Only babies get competitive over stuff like this.”

Tim bristled. But his mic was on, so he was unable to say a word in protest. He could turn his face away from the people to mouth the curses he so clearly wanted to scream, but she could just look in another direction.

Her lips twitched into a kind of grin before she tamped it down.

Dick sighed. Deeply. “I’m guessing I can take that as a no.”

“Aw. You know me so well.”

He snickered. “Well, I’d hope so, since I hired you.”

“No one has ever lied to the people hiring them ever,” she said, nodding sagely.

He grinned. “Which is why we went with… atypical hiring practices.”

“You’ve basically kidnapped me and decided to hold my entire future ransom to make me work for you.”

“Shhhhhhhhh.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Oh, Marinette,” a voice called, and she was more than happy to let Steph drag her out from under Dick’s arm, even if this meant that a new arm was wrapped around her waist and a face came to rest close to her own.

Marinette raised an eyebrow, but wasn’t too surprised at the sudden closeness. They’d literally slept together, in the same bed, for days. She could handle a little bit of contact. And, besides, they’d both agreed that it fit their characters (a playful flirt would flirt with a girl next door, and a girl next door would blush and let it happen) and it would draw in more customers. Teenage boys and gay teenage girls would both rather enjoy watching ‘wlw content’ when given the option.

Besides, who doesn’t flirt with their friends a little? Now they got to monetize it. A win.

Marinette rested a lazy arm over Steph’s shoulder, careful not to jostle the microphone hovering by the girl’s chin. She gave it a pointed look, and Steph mouthed the word ‘off’. She untensed a little. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Your mic is off.”

“I didn’t get one,” she said, shrugging.

Steph blinked. “Oh. I can give you mine.”

“Well, if I accept that, how am I going to insult Tim without the audience knowing?”

Dick snickered. “You could try not insulting him.”

Marinette gave him a blank look.

He shrugged as if to say ‘well, I tried’. Which, did he really?

But her attention was quickly stolen away when Steph pulled something out from behind her ear and then presented it to Marinette, who looked at it how one might look at a dead rat their cat had just brought in.

“What the hell is that?”

“A mic,” Dick offered.

She glared at him out of the corner of her eyes, and then snapped her attention back to Steph when the girl leaned in to fit the device over her ear. “You’re not putting that on me.”

“What, is the scientist scared of technology?” teased Dick.

She gritted her teeth. “Chemicals are easy to understand. They’re predictable. This? Unreliable. Who knows who's listening in on those wavelengths.”

There was a beat of silence. The two Waynes looked at each other for a moment, something unreadable on their faces.

And then Dick sighed. “Listen, you know how our dad bankrolls the Batman?”

She nodded, still eyeing Steph as if the girl was going to jump her and attach the evil machine to her by force.

“Well, we get a couple of perks. Like this. If anyone tries to hack into these – which, really, why would they? – Batman will be alerted and I’m sure they will never be heard from again… or whatever it is he and his weirdo kids do.”

“Local Batman proves that all cops are corrupt,” she said, still eyeing it warily.

“Not a cop,” said Steph.

“Not corrupt,” said Dick.

She wasn’t sure who was being less realistic.

And it didn’t matter what they said, either way.

Batman was exactly the person she was trying to avoid, thank you very much. But it wasn’t like she could just say that, because being openly wary of the Batman in front of rich people was just begging for them to be suspicious of you. They were too used to their peers being affiliated with the Court of Owls. So, reluctantly, she let Steph place the mic.

The girl drew back slightly once she was sure everything was in place (and, more importantly, that it would stay in place even while they were all running around).

Steph grinned. “There. Done. All you’ve got to do now is press the button and you’ll be live. Anyways. Blush like I said something suuuuper hot, m’kay? They’re staring.”

“Maybe if you do something hot, I will.”

She hummed thoughtfully before she brought her free hand up to cradle Marinette’s face. She tilted her head up, her thumb caressing her cheek, their noses brushing. A quiet click sounded next to her ear as her headpiece was turned on.

“Fixed,” Steph said. Quiet, but close enough to the mic hovering by Marinette’s chin for their audience to hear.

“Thanks,” Marinette mumbled. Thank god she had melanin to hide the reddening of her face somewhat, but she was pretty sure it was obvious regardless.

“Anytime,” Steph teased, going so far as to press a kiss to Marinette’s nose before drawing back. She glanced at Dick. “Your mic is off, too.”

“What, not going to fix mine for me?” Dick joked, lifting a lazy hand to flick the knob by his ear.

Steph snorted. “I’d rather die.”

Dick grinned and immediately tugged Marinette closer to him again. Woe is her. If only she could retaliate by beating his ass like she so wants to do. She hates debt. Thankfully, he didn’t wrap an arm around her this time, instead he let her go in favor of crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re just jealous that you don’t get to teach this sweet little underclassman the ropes.”

Marinette was fighting a valiant battle with her face, trying to keep the unimpressed annoyance off of it. “You’re so kind.”

“Of course! It’s my job as the club leader to make sure that your introduction to the group goes smoothly!”

They wouldn’t be bothering with all of this otherwise.

For you see, a large part of being a Host was based around how physically attractive you were, and if they wanted her to be popular enough to pay off her debt, they would have to introduce her to the potential customers in a way that would draw their attention in that way. So, it had been decided that Marinette’s official introduction should be some kind of physical activity. Especially since their clients were all fellow teens, and likely would see a bunch of people fighting for their lives in slightly skimpy clothes and go ‘ooooooooooh’.

Steph rolled her eyes so hard she must have seen her brain back there. “It would have been easier if we’d just done a pool party.”

“My! A pool party?! Steph, have you no shame? What about her innocence?!”

“Dick. She’s wearing a crop top and yoga pants.”

“A crop top, yoga pants, and tasteful armor,” said Dick. His attempts at defending her honor were… definitely attempts. Marinette could give him that.

Marinette crossed her arms over her chest, grinning. “Would you prefer I work out in a hoodie and sweats?”

“Well,” said Steph. She brought her hands up to press against her own chest, winking. “I don’t want that.”

A glance up at the crowd showed that the people had caught the jist of what she’d said thanks to the overdramatic body language she had opted for. Thankfully. Marinette wasn’t sure how to naturally repeat that for the sake of the people watching.

Her eyes caught on one particular person in the crowd, though.

Fu, leaning against his cane heavily, watching her.

“Alright, Steph, stop flirting with the new recruit,” Dick said, slinging his arm over Marinette’s shoulders again, tugging her closer to his side. “Shoo. Scram. Other synonyms that start with ‘s’. I need to teach her how to shoot – shoot! No, wait, I’m thinking of ‘shoo’, and I’m pretty sure I already said that. Anyways. Leave so I can teach her.”

Marinette’s head jerked around to look at him, her eyebrows disappearing behind her hairline. “I know how to shoot. You just…”

She pointed her paintball gun at a nearby wall and pulled the trigger. A disappointed look crossed her face when, despite the gun clicking to tell her that the trigger was working, nothing came out.

“Hm,” she said, eloquently.

He snickered. “Well, I know why that happened, but before we fix that…” He reached a hand out to adjust her fingers. “Let’s not keep our fingers on the trigger. Unless you want to shoot at anything that dares to surprise you.”

Marinette absolutely wanted that. Unfortunately, she couldn’t say that while in character, so she was stuck smiling and saying, “Thanks, Richard.”

“Dick,” he corrected lightly, as usual.

“You don’t understand how much I can not call you that,” she said. Even if Dick was, often, a dick, and she didn’t usually mind going with whatever nickname or name someone called themself, it’s hard to say the word and still come across as demure.

“Well, then, you can call me something else. How does ‘my liege’ sound?”

Marinette snickered into her hand. “Terrible, King.”

“Oh. Hate that.”

“Got it, Queen.”

He sighed.

“Themporer?” she tried, batting her eyelashes.

“How many of those do you have?”

“So many, gender nonspecific monarch.”

“That one feels like a stretch.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, it is a bit of a mouthful.”

“You know, I’m starting to realize that you use humor to stall.”

Marinette’s face flushed at the direct callout. That had been unnecessary. And she couldn’t even curse him out for it. She hated life.

Whatever. She’d roll with it (not like she had any other choices). She gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. “What do you mean? I was trying to figure out your royal-title-specific pronoun preferences! I had only the best of intentions.”

“Of course, of course. Pretend to get ready to shoot your gun.”

Marinette huffed, mumbling that he was ‘no fun’ as she lifted her paintball gun.

He walked around her slowly, knocking his foot against the inside of her own until she moved them to be shoulder width apart, bending her arms so the recoil wouldn’t hurt as much, bending her knees slightly so she wouldn’t fall over at the lightest of hits…

“You sure know a lot about this,” Marinette said, eyeing him warily.

“Dad made me take some self-defense classes after I got held for ransom for the eight and a half-th time.”

“Eight times is a lot but I guess that’s still surprisingly competent for hi – wait, half-th?”

“Yeah!” he said, and then did not elaborate.

She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting.

He checked her form one last time before nodding to himself. He squinted at her gun for a moment, before cringing.

“I – uh – I’m not used to turning off the safety from an outsider’s point of view…”

“Then here,” she said, starting to stand up straighter and hand it over to him, only for him to rapidly shake his head.

“No, no, no, we need you in that position for as long as possible to get your body used to it.”

Marinette fought back a grimace, her eyes briefly flicking to the people still watching them intently. Dick, as the self-proclaimed ‘king’ of the Host Club, was easily the most popular among guests. She did not want to put a target on her back by looking like she was trying to come onto him. Or because it might look like he was coming onto her. She hated this fucking job. They were coworkers, damn it. She shouldn’t be stressing about getting, like, Court of Owls-style assassinated for being near him!

“Just – just… do it quick,” she said.

He nodded sharply.

Arms wrapped around her from behind, a chin coming to rest upon her shoulder. Warm breath just barely wafted over the side of her neck, earning a few goosebumps. His hands ghosted over the back of her own, briefly, fixing the positioning of her fingers once again (he really didn’t like her tendency to hang onto the trigger, apparently) before flicking the safety off.

He pulled back the second everything was in order, hands up like he was already actively surrendering. They sent the people watching them mildly embarrassed looks. It isn’t doing them much good, though.

Quick! Take legitimacy away from the intimacy!

“I need to stop bringing desserts from home, you’re getting heavy.”

Dick spluttered. “What?”

“I said what I said.”

She would apologize later.

… wait, would Babs count mental damage as adding to her debt?

She was going to apologize so profusely later.

Dick sighed, running a hand through his hair, briefly pushing his bangs out of his eyes. “Tell me why we made you the girl next door again?”

“Out of ideas,” Marinette said.

“Right, right. Any chance we can change it?”

“Well, you’re the king and all, you can choose,” she said, before winking and blowing a kiss to the people up on the viewing platform. “But, hey, everyone knows that most ‘harsh’ people are just hurt people trying to protect themselves from more harm. I’m sure that, with the right person, I could actually be the soft, kind person I portray. After all, every act needs at least a little bit of truth to work, right?”

She glanced at Dick out of the corner of her eyes. He gave the barest trace of a nod.

Good.

She had a bit of a reputation in the school. Not really because she was outright mean to people – she would never say half the shit she said around Adrien and the host club members to people she didn’t know, not without good reason – but because pretty much every student knew about her… antagonistic relationship with Tim. Because during the last finals season they had only been a step above fistfighting in the middle of the hallway. And not even because they had been scared of punishment or expulsion, but instead because Duke and Steph had physically dragged Tim away before he could jump at her.

Whatever. It was totally water under the bridge and she definitely didn’t want him dead anymore.

(Yes, Tim and Marinette could just put aside their differences, and show that they had changed… but Marinette would rather just kill him, to be honest.)

Regardless, it would be hard to convince the general population that the person that had almost fought another member was all that shy and kind. So, they needed to rework her image. Recontextualize her personality.

Whether or not Marinette or any of the other host club members really believed what she was saying didn’t matter, all that mattered was that their guests believed it. Thankfully, they had years worth of toxic media to back up their claims, and the rich kids who had never had real reason to distrust what they’d been told fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

Great. The goal for today is done. Now, if only she could get out of this stupid paintball tournament. She has changed her mind. A chance of shooting Tim in the face is not worth having to simulate a battle.

Maybe if she annoys Dick enough he might just call it off?

She watched him out of the corner of her eyes as they continued down the hallway. He caught her stare and, instead of being confused or upset or uncomfortable, sent her a tiny smile.

Yeah, she didn’t think it would work. You can’t annoy someone with as many younger siblings as he has. They are immune to outside annoyances by this age, she is pretty sure.

There’s no getting out of this.

She almost laughed. Story of her fucking life.

Dick rested his hand on the doorknob, glancing back at her.

“Ready?”

She flashed a wink. “As I’ll ever be.”

Their door opened up into what seemed to be a trench, carved into the ground. Once they had clambered out of the trench, their clothes already stained with dirt (at least she didn’t have to pay for any of it), they found themselves in a heavily wooded area, with a couple of concrete structures dotted around.

She walked to a nearby tree. All of them looked long dead, blackened, as if they had been burned. As if this was a real battlefield.

She rapped her knuckles against it lightly, and wasn’t surprised to find that, whatever it was made of, it wasn’t organic material. Judging by the sound, she would guess styrofoam, paper mache, paint, and a dream.

A quick check of one of the structures revealed it to have no ceiling.

The entire world around them was fabricated to give the people so far above them, standing on the glass and peering down at them with excited grins she didn’t want to look at, a good view of what was going on. No leaves, no roofs, nothing was allowed to take away from their fun.

Oh shit, she thought. This is what it feels like to be in the Hunger Games.

Or to be in one of Riddler’s escape rooms, she supposed.

She watched Dick carefully toeing at the dirt, checking to see how far down it went. Whether it could actually be used as padding, or if the metal hidden beneath would give some nasty bruises if someone fell on it for any reason. Such as dramatically falling over when shot ‘dead’.

Her lips twitched into a wry kind of grin. And he’s supposed to be the ‘dumbest’ one. Who does he think that he’s fooling?

It wasn’t until long after he had confirmed that the ground was, in fact, soft enough for them all to drop dead on without issue, that an alarm alerted them to the fact that the grace period was over, and they were now supposed to be hunting each other to the death.

Marinette brushed her bangs away from her eyes, taking advantage of the opportunity to see how the audience had dispersed themselves. They were, largely, grouped into four spots. No guesses why. Sureeeeeely not because this was where the four pairs of competitors were…

Okay, that wasn’t fair to the customers. There was no way for them to know that the glass wasn’t a one way mirror like they’d been told. They shouldn’t be aware of the fact that this was all a play that had been planned out well in advance. The Waynes weren’t the types to let on that they weren’t quite as ‘airheaded’ as they often portrayed themselves to be, for whatever reason.

Still… Marinette stretched lazily, rocking back and forth on her feet, trying not to laugh aloud at just how obvious they were all being.

“So, are we heading to the center or skirting around the edges?” she asked.

“Center,” he said, because that was where most of the male clients were, and therefore where Babs and Cass were likely to be. “Let’s see whether there’s a Hunger Games-style cornucopia or something.”

Marinette clicked her tongue lightly. “You can’t tell people what we’re ripping off.”

“I think they already know.”

She huffed, but it’s not as if she genuinely cared.

Without further ado, they were off.

*****

They happened across Babs and Cass in the middle. They seemed to be doing the same thing that Marinette and Dick were, picking around for anything that might be useful. As if the people who had made this place would make an entrance in a spot where they had special items.

“Find anything?” Dick asked, pointing his gun at Babs.

Cass retaliated by pointing her gun at him. He did not seem particularly pleased about this development.

Marinette wasn’t pleased, either, because this meant she had to point her gun at Cass in retaliation. Fuck this script for making her defend Dick Grayson of all people.

Their guests looked to Babs, expecting her to point her gun at Marinette and complete the circle, leading to a dramatic standoff…

Only for Babs to hold up her hands in the universal sign of surrender. “We don’t have to fight,” she said. “It’s better if we don’t. We can’t have Jason or Tim’s teams winning.”

If nothing else, Marinette had to admit that this strategy would have probably worked on her and Dick even if it wasn’t scripted. Because fuck Tim Drake. And, in Dick’s case, Jason, in particular, cannot win, because he would be insufferable about it. They would both take shady deals in a heartbeat if it meant that the other two teams wouldn’t win.

“What do you get from this?” Marinette asked, because it was expected of her.

Cass shrugged. “Fun.”

Valid reason. Marinette (and Dick, too, though she loathed to admit it) could sometimes be fun.

As for Babs…

“If we’re the last two teams, I want to shoot Dick in the face.”

Dick gave a screech of offense, complaining about his ‘beautiful face’. But Marinette sees now downsides! They shook on it before he could get a word in edgewise.

“Alright, team, let’s roll out,” said Babs.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Dick whined.

“No. We are misandry-ing,” Marinette informed him.

“Perfect. Us girlies have to stick together,” Babs joked lightly.

“True. Can’t wait to kill ‘my liege’ for the sake of women everywhere,” Marinette said, snickering to herself.

Dick snorted at the ‘my liege’ callback, and then seemed to process what she had said. He pressed a hand to his chest. “Excuse you, I’m a girlie, too.”

“Woo, slay queen,” Marinette deadpanned. And then she frowned to herself. “Is ‘my liege’ a gendered term?”

“I… think so?” said Babs. The grammar rules for royalty is not the kind of thing the average teenager is looking up, after all. And, if Babs doesn’t know, then Cass (ESL speaker) and Dick (a liar pretending to be the ‘dumb one’ in a group already known for being stupid) had no shot. Pain. She must live without knowing for the next few hours. Why does god hate her so? Truly, she has suffered more than Jesus.

… perhaps it is jokes like that that make god hate her.

Whatever. She did not believe in Him, therefore He could not hurt her.

Anyways.

“Let’s roll out, then, I guess,” she said.

“Only I’m allowed to make that joke,” said Babs.

Marinette blinked. And then her face reddened. “Oh — I—!”

Cass shook her head in mock disappointment.

Marinette huffed. “Is it too late to un-team?”

“Nah, we shook on it, it’s binding,” Babs said.

Well. If that’s the case. They rolled ou— started off in search of others.

It was, honestly, a lot of meandering around. If they managed to go in the right direction too many times, the illusion would break, after all.

But, if nothing ‘entertaining’ was happening, they needed to work extra hard to have interesting conversations to listen in on. Which was hard. Usually, they entertained their guests by flirting, which was easy and didn’t take that much mental energy, but that was no longer really an option. They weren’t going to flirt with each other, especially since Dick and Cass were siblings and Dick and Babs were exes (Dick once again ruining things for everyone, shame on him). So…

Marinette walked alongside Babs. “If you don’t mind me asking, how the heck are you able to use your wheelchair when the ground is like this?” she said. The wheels didn’t look all that special, after all – it was all clearly high-quality, don’t get her wrong, but it wasn’t like she was looking at the wheelchair version of four wheel drive. And the gun in her lap was barely even moving.

“That’s the most fucked up question anyone’s ever asked me,” deadpanned Babs.

Marinette huffed. “Now, I just don’t think that’s true.”

“When have I ever lied?”

“I’m still convinced that the debt was a scam,” she sniffed.

Babs rolled her eyes but distinctly didn’t deny it. Because she couldn’t, clearly, not because she just didn’t feel that this was worth her time or energy. “This isn’t any worse than going down sidewalks.”

Marinette envisioned the Average Gotham Sidewalk. Then looked at the ground. She supposed that the sticks kind of resembled used syringes, now that she thought about it, and the dirt was surprisingly much smoother than the pothole-riddled concrete.

“Oh,” she said. “Okay, makes sense, yeah.”

Well. She had done her job. Someone else needs to pick up the slack, now.

Babs sent her a flat look that said she needed to say something that would interest the audience, not just her. She fought the urge to grumble under her breath. The microphone would pick that up, too.

She turned to look at Dick.

“Okay, philosophical question: if you are aware that you are in denial, is it really denial, or is it a weird form of acceptance?”

It was silent for a moment.

“Er… I guess… acceptance?”

“But then it’s not denial. Different stage,” Cass said.

“But if you’re aware of it, it can’t be denial,” Dick argued.

Babs sighed. “How ‘aware’ is this ‘awareness’? Because, I’m pretty sure, even people in denial kind of know things are weird.”

“Nonono, you’re aware of the denial,” said Marinette. “Like, you know the thing you’re in denial about is bad and you go ‘nahhhhh’. But it’s a conscious decision.”

“Then… ugh. Denial, I guess.”

Babs and Cass started arguing. Marinette was pretty sure this was the most talkative and passionate she had ever seen Cass.

As for the guests… they were either arguing vehemently themselves or watching other people argue with amused grins.

Marinette, discreetly, gave a little bow in Dick’s direction. He gave a huff of laughter.

By the time they stumbled across another person, Cass seemed pissed off enough to go all out. This wasn’t intentional, but it was still funny to watch Duke go from relatively calm and in control to immediately ducking behind a tree for cover for fear of death.

Until he started firing at them all, too, and they were forced to book it to the nearest shelter.

You might argue that they were cowards, and should help out Cass, and you’d be right, but…

They wouldn’t be much help, to be honest.

The way Duke and Cass were fighting was insane. Like they already knew what each other’s movements were going to be ahead of time, and thus were more intent on waiting for the other to slip up than outright outsmarting each other.

Marinette whistled lowly. “How often do you guys come here?”

“Here? This is the first time, actually,” said Dick, brightly. “But we have something like this back at the Manor.”

She hated rich people.

(This fact has been made abundantly clear over the past few chapters, but she would like to say it again. And again. For as many times as it would take for them to stop pulling Rich People Shit.)

“Woooow,” she said, trying to infuse as much fake cheeriness into her tone as was physically possible when her main thought was about how, technically, friendly fire is possible here. “What a perfectly amazing use of your money.”

He nodded his agreement. Whether or not it was joking did not matter when her blood was boiling beneath her skin. She started to lift her gun, intent on either helping Cass or betraying both Cass and Duke at once, only for a stray bullet to nail the wall by her head the moment she started to poke her head out.

She stared at the purple paint for a moment, eyes wide, before slowly shrinking back into hiding.

She was still pissed off, though!

Before her eyes could drift to Babs and she could weigh the moral implications of sending her out first, a handful of skittles was shoved in front of her face.

“Want some?” said Jason.

She nodded, taking all of the red ones and popping them in her mouth. Dick did the same, but with the green pieces, like a weirdo (who the hell prefers green?). Babs wasn’t nearly as picky, just taking a handful of the rest and popping them like pills.

And then she started to lift her gun.

Marinette nearly choked on her sweet treat.

“JASON?!” Dick yelped.

They scrambled for their own guns.

Jason managed to get a shot off on Babs before he was covered in yellow. Maybe they shot him more times than was strictly necessary, but that was what he deserved for using Skittles against them. Honestly, the fact that Dick didn’t believe in the death penalty was the only thing saving him right now.

As for Marinette… well, she had been too intent on looting his ‘corpse’ for more candy to bother with murdering him via paintball gun. After all, what if the Skittles ended up getting blood or — god forbid — paint on them? She wouldn’t even be able to kill him in retaliation for messing up her snack.

She grumbled when she found paintballs, but pocketed them for extra ammo, in case Cass won and needed more.

Then, finally, she procured her prize: a sharing size bag of candy.

Life is good.

Unless you are Jason Todd.

“Maaaaan,” he groaned. “Those are mine, y’know.”

“Shhhhh, you’re a corpse, you can’t speak,” Dick said, holding his hand out for some.

She set the paintballs in his hand instead.

And then watched on in horror as he bit down on one without thinking.

Dick stared at her for a moment, purple dripping from his mouth.

Marinette swallowed down the temptation to joke about him looking like a vampire in favor of frantically looking up whether paintballs were nontoxic or if they were about to cut this paintball tournament short.

… which she wouldn’t mind, actually, now that she thought about it...

She considered the google page saying that they were nontoxic (for humans, at least, apparently they were not good for animals, which Damian was going to be distressed about when he learned), wondering whether an ambulance visit would be added to her debt. And then decided she didn’t want to risk it.

“You’re fine.”

Want to know who wasn’t fine? Cass and Duke. Apparently, in the time it took for everything to settle, Duke and Cass had killed each other off. Or, well, Duke had slipped up and Cass had ‘died’ in solidarity with him. Mildly concerning behavior, but it was a paintball game and therefore has no real indication of actual behaviors. Hopefully. Marinette genuinely liked Cass.

No time to linger on that particular line of thought.

“If Tim wins I’m pulling a Cass,” Marinette told Dick.

Dick raised an eyebrow. “You’d already be ‘dead’ if Tim wins.”

She thought this over. “Then I’ll come back as a zombie and be killed again. Perfect.”

Jason did not seem to find this funny, but maybe he was still bitter about having his Skittles stolen. Dick grinned and, really, that’s all that matters.

“What do you think real life zombies are like?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Nonexistent.”

“Don’t know what I was expecting from the scientist,” he huffed.

“Fiiiiiine,” she said. She thought, long and hard, about what a real life zombie would be like. Blüdhaven got nuked a while back (deserved, fuck Blüdhaven), and she hadn’t yet heard of zombies, so radiation poisoning wasn’t going to do it. So probably an intentional thing — Jurassic Park style experimentation, or something. Which means that the circumstances would be controlled… except zombies would probably escape the labs, if Marinette were to ever see them. The body would have to be very cold to slow down decomposition. It wouldn’t even halt it entirely.

“Gross,” she decided.

Dick stared at her. “All that thought and you come up with ‘gross’?!”

“I’m not wrong. They’d be gross.”

“That is not the point!” he groaned. “Talk about whether you think they’d be fast or slow, strong or weak, intelligent or not! Talk about whether their decomposition would affect them!”

She snickered. “Careful, Richard, or you’re going to make people think you have a brain in there.”

For a moment, he froze. And then he purposefully relaxed, each muscle individually untensing, one by one. He laughed lightly, but it was a tad bit forced (when wasn’t it, though?). “Yeah, the zombies will come after me if they know.”

“Being stupid has its benefits, yeah?”

He chuckled humorlessly.

Before he could come up with a proper response, though, Tim wandered into their area, drawn by the sound of gunfire from Duke and Cass’s fight. Marinette and Dick pointed their guns at him immediately.

Tim narrowed his eyes. He pointed his gun at Marinette, but seemed hesitant.

Marinette fought off a smirk. She loved having plot armor. At the sight of her face, he only seemed more irritated, which was even better.

But there was nothing he could do.

He set his gun down.

“We could take him as hostage,” Dick offered. “See if that lures Damian –.”

“Nah, too risky,” said Marinette. Without any further ado, she shot Tim.

Tim fell over, and not entirely because that was standard for ‘dead’ people. He hugged himself. His dignity, breaking. In a very literal sense.

It was very quiet. Marinette’s hand found its way to her mouth.

Dick looked at her, his eyes wide and horrified.

“I know I hate you, but… I didn’t mean… I forgot that men have… Tim, I’m so sorry.”

Tim made a pitiful sound.

Shakily, he lifted a hand in a thumbs up.

She made a heart with her own hands. This did not seem to help in the slightest but, frankly, there wasn’t much else she could do.

Luckily, she didn’t need to think about it for long before she was distracted — a voice called from behind them: “Found you.”

She whipped around and shot Damian in the chest.

There were a few moments where no one knew what to do. The boy stared at the paint staining his armor bright yellow. Marinette’s grip felt clammy on her gun.

Dick tipped his head to the side consideringly.

She met his eyes.

She was no longer amused by the intelligence lingering in his gaze as he scrutinized her. She narrowed her eyes at him, briefly, daring him to say something. She wasn’t the only one hiding things, after all.

Play along, she told him. Help me fix this ending.

He relaxed his expression carefully.

They had an understanding. Despite Marinette’s supposed incompetence with guns, when startled she was quick to shoot and accurate. Despite Dick constantly acting as if he was dumb, there was clearly a brain hidden somewhere there. They both knew more than they tried to let on. Maybe that was why they didn’t have much trouble identifying each other’s acts… but, so long as their own secrets remained intact, they could keep each others’.

It was a little nerve-wracking, and yet, strangely, nice, to have someone you don’t have to lie to. That can see past it even when you try.

She smirked and lifted her gun. “See? This is why you keep your finger on the trigger, Dick.”

He grinned and held up his hands in surrender.

*****

Marinette and Dick grimaced as a cooler full of paint was poured over their backs. They definitely felt victorious right about now. This was their prize for winning. Yay them.

Sure, they didn’t exactly, genuinely earn the win, but that’s besides the point.

He looked at her. “You’ve got red in your hair.”

She yelped and brought a hand up to try and get it out, only to remember just a second too late that her hands, too, were covered in paint. She stared at the glob of paint-covered hair hanging limp in front of her eyes for a moment, devastated, and then glared at him.

“You did that on purpose.”

“I was just pointing something out for you,” he said ‘innocently’, unable to quite keep himself from smiling.

She hummed, and then slapped her hand onto his hair. He hissed and reflexively his hands flew up to touch the sore spot, only for him to realize that now he had been the one baited into getting paint in his hair.

“Marinette,” he said, smiling sweetly.

For a moment, one could almost see the regret flickering across her features.

And then he rushed forward to try and trap her in a hug. She shrieked, managing to get only a few steps before she was snatched up, dragged into the evil monster. She barely even had time to fight back before she was thrown over his shoulder, only able to yell off-brand curse words and try to writhe around in hopes of freedom – or, at least, in hopes that she could smear her own paint over every part of him she could reach.

Within minutes, they were swirling messes of red, blue, purple, and the occasional scrap of visible skin.

There were people laughing at their antics.

Both of them froze.

They looked up, and found the other members of the Host Club were enjoying the show.

As well as a few guests, but they couldn’t really retaliate against them.

So, Dick set Marinette down and they met each other’s eyes and silently resolved to make up for that by attacking their fellow club members twice as much to compensate.

*****

Marinette heaved a sigh as she sat on a bench, scrubbing paint off her arm with her millionth wet wipe of the day. Where did the green even come from?

It was then that she realized someone was nearing her.

She looked over her shoulder and found…

Well, someone her age. She recognized her, vaguely, from her English class, but their name eluded her.

The girl smiled nervously at Marinette, wringing her hands and somewhat avoiding eye contact. “I – uh – was wondering if you could Host for me sometime?”

Marinette stared at her for a moment, processing.

And then she lit up, practically jumping from her seat in order to shake the girl’s hand.

“That sounds great! What day would you –?”

She drew her hand back, and cringed at the red strings of paint now connecting their hands.

“I… don’t know if I have more wet wipes,” she said, blushing.

The girl smiled, amused. “If you walk me home, I’ll consider it even.”

Marinette hesitantly took her hand again, intertwining their fingers. “Okay. Don’t know if that’s much of a punishment, but if that’s what it takes to repay you…”

~~~~~~~~~~

TBC

Taglist: @ev-cupcake @thatonecroc @toodaloo-kangaroo @fangirlingfanatic

[the-coffee-fandom]

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MASTER LIST

══❀══╡°˖✧❦✧˖°╞══❀══

Gif by @the-coffee-fandom please do not repost or steal, tumblr kind of killed the quality with its file size max

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❥ Timari :

Marigolds Pierce My Skin

Cat’s Don’t Always Chase Birds

A Duck And A Ladybug (Roommates Edition)

Coffee Is My Love Language

Into The Depths Of Our Minds

Death Came For Me

I Don’t Need To See Stars (I Saw You Instead)

Don’t Overwork Yourself (Trust Me Because I Love You)

A Date With Sleep

❥ Bio Dad :

Dreaming Of Anemone

My Identity Is By Your Side

My Heart Is Tied To Family

Argue With Me Sister

First Meetings Aren’t Always The Best, But Sometimes They Are

❥ Damianette :

Memories Filled With You

Hold Me Tight Till Mornings Light

Some Angel’s Die, Some Angels Fly

Sister!?! Preposterous!

❥ Jasonette :

The Cookie Problem

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Did You Fall From Heaven? (No It Was The Chandelier)

❥ Cassette :

Death Bouquet

❥ Multi-ship :

Valentine’s Day Special 2021

❥ Collabs :

Leave (And Ignore The Pain Behind My Eyes) (Written with @miraculousmelodies ; Timari)

Alphabet Soup (Written with dragonbug, @jinx-jade, @legends-live-in-memories, @shamrockace, RayBell (Shard_Of_Stained_Glass), @tylindel, @wildbookcat ; multi-ship)

Friendships A Fine Line I Could Never See (Written with @miraculousmelodies and Ever_lore ; Timari)

From Your Favorite Chaos Gremlins (Written with @miraculousmelodies and Ever_lore ; found family)

Don’t Blame Me (Written with Ever_lore)

In Sickness And In Health (I’ll Love You) (Written with @coolkid-mcgee, Miarculas, @miraculousmelodies ; Timari)

And That’s The Tea (Written with @serenescribbles and @miraculousmelodies ; Jasonette)

Sunflower (Written with @izanae, @newdog14, @nitwitjustice ; Timari)

Pure Sugar (Written with @coolkid-mcgee, @izanae, @miraculousmelodies ; Timari)

Captive Hearts (Written with @boldlyanxious, @izanae, Ever_lore, @jumpingjoy82, @the-witches-you-couldnt-burn ; Jasonette)

Memories Of Family: A Pass Story (Written with @izanae, @jumpingjoy82, @serenescribbles, @the-witches-you-couldnt-burn ; Family)

If Baldness Was A Crime (We’d Solve It With Crayon) (Written with @jumpingjoy82, Ever_lore, @miraculousmelodies, @serenescribbles ; Timari)

If Your Girlfriend Gets Mad (We Fix It With Logic) (Written with @miraculousmelodies, Ever_lore, @nitwitjustice ; Timari)

If Your Nemesis Fights Back (We Kill Him With Glitter) (Written with @miraculousmelodies, Ever_Lore, @nitwitjustice ; Timari)

❥ Series :

Rim Drake (Timari Crack Fics)

Flowers Aren’t Always A Love Language (Unconnected Hanahaki au’s)

Team Issa’s Stolen A (Event Collection)

❥ Collections :

Admission Fee Fics (Co-ran with @velveteenshadow)

❥ Related Works :

No Stronger Bond Than Ours @serenescribbles (Inspired by Sister!?! Preposterous!)

❥ Gifts :

And They Were Roommates @jinx-jade (Damianette)

Hearts Entwined TheNumberFairy (Tim/Marinette/Stephanie)

Time’s TikToking sunshinyy_rose (Damianette)

Not Crazy, Creative sunshinyy_rose (Damianette)

Paying For A Strangers Coffee May Lead To Unexpected Results @peachieplanetssb (Timari)

Tim-Marry @izanae (Timari)

Mastermind! @peachieplanetssb (Timari)

Petals Of You @ggomos-maribat (Timari)

When All Is Too Much Lean On Me @tylindel (Timari)

Camellia Japonica @ggomos-maribat (Timari)

Smexy Chocolate (Or Coffee Overlords) QueenKitten101 (General Pairings)

Coffee Lovers @miraculousmelodies @tylindel Ever_lore (Timari)

“I’m the favorite!” “No you’re not you little-” @ellienettie (Dickinette)

Never Enough Time Butterflies_and_Ladybugs @jumpingjoy82 (General Pairings)

No Stronger Bond Than Ours @serenescribbles (Family)

What A Long, Strange Trip It’s Been @izanae (Jasonette)

❥ Awards :

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Vee Owl House

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Only Rocketships Timari Scene

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Only Rocketships Cover

❥ Check Out These Super Cool Authors :

miraculousmelodies

Tylindel

treereads

mochegato

Miracle-Sham (ShammrockTales)

Jinx-Jade (Trial_and_Error)

Newdog14

ggomo_springtime

Paintball_169

serenescribbles

ScarletImpulse

Boldlyanxious

TheLadyEarlOfAces

Vukaaa

Celestial_Ruined_My_Life

mic_is_dead

Infernam

peachieplanets

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.・。.・゜✭・.・❀・゜・。.

[official-timari-server]

Shutterbug Station Team Poll

[bee-a-garbage-shipper]

*MariBat meaning Non Polyamory Marinette x BatFam Member Ships

[boldlyanxious]

rarer ships

cassinette

admiritrice Marinette has a secret admirerer

weakness bodyguard Cass

Kitty Key Princess Cass; healer Marinette. That one tumblr post about the cat

Timdrien

Without delay Adrien has some modelling work in Gotham and gets stranded. Tim gives him a place to stay while he waits for the airport to open

Splash zone meet cute in the rain

Konette

Coffee covered Conner crack meet cute with Marinette and Kon while he is trying to get Tim's attention. Follow up

Kon, baby Kon was deaged but after escaping he meets Marinette

drabble the prompts was shirtless

It had to be you they were roommates. links to ao3

Tom and Sabine

Loaf at first Sight meet cute

Buy you Flours Sabine makes a move

Other ships

Duke and Dash brucinette Cinderella au

Flash meeting meet cute Kid Flash and Marinette

Variant Miles Morales and Marinette meet cute

Unintended consequences- Jaydrienette final battle

All fic masterlist

[ali-annals]

tomorrow's a flower

Pairing: Cassinette

Rating: G

Genre: Fluff. All the fluff. @flufftober 2023 Day 9: ___ at First Sight. Random Word Generator chose 'Employee'.

WC: 1k exactly

Maribat Taglist (Open): [I'm so sorry I keep forgetting people like my works and join the list and i forget to tag everyone😭] @axis-for-the-dead @jennifer-rose123 @questioning-blob-of-fog @sarcasticbambi

A/N: Thanks to @axis-for-the-dead for betaing and hyping me up!! For @ramos123. Thanks for defending my wifey and me<3 (even if you did laugh at us). Edit: after scrolling through a million messages apparently I mixed my dates up😔 Happy day of birth anyways ig.

I did too much research into late-19th Century French fashion. Ignore any ballet mistakes I made; I forgot everything I once knew. Title inspo here.

Ao3 Masterlist

The sun was shining, the air was crisp with the promise of fall, and the smell of freshly baked goods wafted around the girl casually strolling the aisles of vendors at the autumn market.

Buckets of wildflowers added pops of colour, various species of gourds provided visual texture, and the sound of leaves crunching underneath her light stride put a spring in her step.

Hefting the bag on her back, loaded with goods from the many vendors she’d stopped by, she paused to watch a demonstration by a young woman around her age, who was explaining fashion in the late 19th century. 

Several replica pieces hung on racks in her booth, and a couple women were trying on jackets and bonnets eagerly. 

“Excuse me!” The young woman waved at her, and she walked over, curious. “What’s your name?”

“Cass.”

“Cass, it’s nice to meet you!” the woman smiled warmly, her cheeks a pretty blush from the cool breeze. “I’m Marinette. Would you be my model for the bicycle suit, to demonstrate how well it allowed for mobility?”

Cass nodded. “I do ballet.”

The girl grasped her hands dramatically, eyes practically hearts. “You do?! This is perfect! Thank you so much, Cass! My usual model is out sick today,” she mourned, gathering a pile of clothing and heading towards a small change stall. “Let me know if you need any help. The styles were a lot simpler as the fashions changed and drew inspiration from menswear, but they can still be confusing to someone who doesn’t typically wear antique clothing.” Cass nodded and entered the change stall, leaving her backpack behind Marinette's sales counter before she began to don the old-fashioned garments.

She emerged and looked questioningly at Marinette, who led her to her sales pitch circle.

“Here’s today’s model, Cass, who will show you how flexible the clothing really was!”

Cass started off with some basic stretches, warming up before she attempted grander moves. She preferred her proper ballet attire or looser clothing, but this wasn’t bad. The loose fabric was breathable and not very restrictive, so once she was sufficiently warmed up, she began some simple jumps and movements. 

Marinette continued her spiel as Cass performed one of her favourite dances, the solo from Act I of Don Quixote. It was short, but had jumps, twirls, and kicks, which provided a good range of movements to show off the clothing. 

Cass finished with a professional bow, looking at Marinette during the applause to see if she had liked it. She had a wide-eyed, smiling look on her face, so Cass guessed she had done a good job of promoting Marinette’s work.

Once the demonstration was over, Cass hung around examining the wares of Marinette’s booth. Some half-finished pieces were on display, Marinette showing the process of making historically accurate and comfortable clothing. 

A gorgeously embroidered blouse with many small wildflowers and birds and ladybugs caught her eye, and Cass held it up to herself. Once it was completed, it would be the right size to fit her, she thought.

Marinette came over, her eyes sparkling. “Thank you so much for your demonstration, Cass! I just made at least three sales because of that. Oh, I love this blouse. The embroidery is a pain, but it’s so worth it. The prettiest things always take the longest and hardest to become that way, don’t they,” she mused. “Did anything else catch your eye, that I can get for you?”

Cass shook her head. “Just this.”

“If you give me your contact information, I can let you know when this is completed, if you’re still interested in it. I’ll give it to you for free after the help you’ve been today,” Marinette offered.

Cass pulled out a business card from the depths of her retrieved bag and handed it to Marinette. 

“Will you need me to come in and try it to make sure it fits properly?”

Marinette smiled at her. “I might.”

~~~

Marinette set her pincushion down. “Alright, it’s all done, except for the finishing embroidery.”

“Can I add a flower?” Cass asked.

“Sure, what one do you want?”

“I need to research it first. Can I tell you tomorrow?”

“Okay,” Marinette agreed readily. 

~~~

“Can I add another one?”

“Sure. Do you need to do more research?”

“Yes. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow works! Oh, do you want your reference flower back?”

“You keep it.”

“Thanks, Cass. See you tomorrow.”

~~~

“I’m going to miss embroidering these flowers,” Marinette mused as she clipped the loose threads off her latest addition to the blouse’s garden.

“I’ll buy you more,” offered Cass. “You can embroider more of my clothes if you want.”

Marinette laughed. “Thanks, Cass. I appreciate it. Want to add another blossom?”

“Of course. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

~~~

“Another?”

“Yes.”

“Tomorrow, then.” ~~~

“Can I-”

“Yes!”

“Tomorrow.”

~~~

“One more?”

“Always,” Marinette grinned. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.”

~~~

“Hi, Cass! Be with you in a sec!” Marinette called from the depths of her shop the next afternoon, at two on the dot, as usual.

“Okay.”

Cass looked down at the stalk of tiny white flowers in her hand.

Marinette emerged, brushing the curtain to the back room out of her face (the one she always walked into), a smile on her lips.

Cass held out the flower for Marinette’s approval.

“Ooh, a mignonette! This would be pretty by the camellias on the lower right hem,” Marinette mused, pulling out the form with Cass’s blouse on it.

“So, any flower requests for tomorrow?” Marinette asked at the end of their session.

“No.”

Marinette’s smile dimmed a bit. “Oh, okay. Finally done with your garden? It’s actually been fun doing all this embroidery,” she looked at her handiwork sternly.

“Come with me to buy flowers tomorrow,” Cass asked.

“What?”

“I’ll buy you flowers, but you don’t have to embroider them anymore.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “Are you asking me out?”

Cass nodded firmly. “Go on a date with me. Please?” She pulled out the puppy eyes Damian had perfected.

Marinette grinned widely. “Yes! Of course!”

[thornalchemist23]

Prompt for Fanart

I wanna draw a maribat ship with sweet marinette, first comment will be the ship, I will post asking for more prompts by first comment later lol

[maribatserver]

Heartthrob Heroes: A Valentine's Day Event

We all have our favorite heroes from DC and Miraculous, and now's your chance to share why we love them so much! This Valentine's Day we're putting on the Heartthrob Heroes card event — everyone's welcome to participate, and it's easy to do, too!

All you need to do is 1.) open up this link (x), 2.) choose your hero, and 3.) share a word you think describes what's best about them. You can submit as many times as you like, for as many heroes as you like… and if a particular word is extra special to you, you can even submit it multiple times!

You'll have until February 10th to submit, after which point our mod team will turn your words into art, add it to Valentine's Cards we're making for each hero, and share it with y'all for Valentine's Day! Oh, and did we mention this was a competition?

Yep, the 3 heroes with the most submissions will be declared the Heartthrob Heroes of Maribat, and each of their most popular words will appear as a Maribat March prompt too!

Note: Since this event is for the holiday of love, please only submit the things you love about these characters! We've all had our moments of salt over things that happen in canon, but our Valentines Cards aren't the place to get that out of your system. Any negative, rude, or salty comments will be removed from the submission list.

Oh, and make sure to check back with us on February 15th, as we have some special plans for Galentine's Day too

[miracle-sham]

Necromancy and Magic Shops Snippets.

| {MGI Civil War 3 Event} |

| {Necromancy} |

———

| Word Count: 540. |

———

It had been raining the day before, when a fierce knock upon her door rattled the hinges.

Marinette had rushed downstairs to pull open, revealing a sopping wet Adrien at the threshold.

“I need your help...” He rasped, stumbling inside into the warmth beyond.

“Okay.” Marinette had agreed without question or hesitation. She had promised him she'd be there for him no matter what, after everything they've been through as Ladybug and Chat Noir.

“My mother... My father...” Adrien grimaced. “She woke up again. Because of him.”

Marinette didn't need to guess the truth he spoke underneath. She had been dead, cold and still inside that wretched crystal coffin.

“I need your help.” He repeated, staring into her eyes desperately. “I can't do this alone, please.”

“Okay.” She promised, swallowing thickly. “There's a shop, I've heard of. They specialise in... Gardening.”

Adrien nodded, eyes closing for a brief moment. “I can't go. She'll get suspicious if I'm gone for too long.”

“I'll go for you then. I won't let you down.” Marinette whispered.

Which is why she was here, stood in front of the unassuming clocktower that shouldn't exist, labelled neatly with a purple bat shaped sign 'The Batgirls' Emporium'

The door creaked as she opened it, stepping inside. The crackle of magic rolling off her as the wards let her through. She clutched at her Ladybug protective charm tightly.

The shopkeeper was watching her. She glanced away, scurrying towards the necromancy section, hope desperately curling in her chest as she scanned the aisle for what she seeked.

———

Cass looked her latest customer up and down. Their eyes met, and the other looked away first.

She nudged her partner gently and gestured to the necromancy aisle. Steph whistled.

"Ooooh, boy, you're looking for a toughie, huh?" she asked the nervous girl.

"I, um, I didn't -- I don't --"

"Not to worry, not to worry," Steph interrupted. "We've got you covered! We've got animal revivals, people revivals, plant revivals (although we charge extra for a kingdom's crops), and --"

"I'm not!", the customer interruped, "Looking to bring someone back! I need to put someone down!"

Cass's eyes sharpened. Steph froze, then slanted a look at the other.

After a quick examination, Cass shook her head.

"Well," Steph said, "Sorry for any rude assumptions I might've made." Her voice was low and soothing.

“It's... Fine.” Marinette mumbled, refusing to look at her, hands fidgeting at her sides.

Steph sighed. "Look, Cass isn't karate-chopping you right now, so I trust you're not up to any evil. What do you need?"

Marinette made a slight keening noise. “It's... I don't know exactly, I've only heard rumours of it... But my friend, someone he knew was dead and now they're not. And there's. He's scared. I promised I'd help.” She admits, saying far too much and yet not enough at the same time.

Cass vaulted over the counter and pulled Marinette into a hug. She tensed, and Steph feared she'd bolt. Instead, she melted into it.

How long had it been, Marinette wondered, since she'd last been hugged. Even Adrien kept his distance these days, despite everything, not that she faulted him, they were both hurting and coping and healing in their own ways... But she missed being comforted.

———

| @writingsnippetsthatneverupdate | | @maribat-get-in |

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Cursed Cat

by TheStarfishAlien

The spin-off of Cat Cursed with CassMari(Cassinette) as the main ship. Same background plot points but different events.

(You don’t need to read that to understand this)

Words: 2276, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 4 of Cursed Sins

Fandoms: Miraculous Ladybug, Batman - All Media Types, Maribat - Fandom

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, Gen, Multi

Characters: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Cassandra Cain, Damian Wayne, Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Stephanie Brown, Barbara Gordon, Dick Grayson, Duke Thomas, Harper Row

Relationships: Cassandra Cain/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Cassandra Cain & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Damian Wayne

Additional Tags: Batfamily (DCU), Cat!Marinette Dupain-Cheng - Freeform, Actual Cat Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, family curse, ill add more tags later, literally just fluff, No Plot/Plotless, just gays being gays, girls being gay, gays being girls, Pranks, Batfamily Shenanigans (DCU), Minor Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/41509194

[mysticprofessoralienhumanoid]

Marinette: I will kill you with the power of friendship!

Marinette: And also this gun I found!

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

OHSHCAU (Keysmash)

Part 1

Summary: Flowers fluttered past her, carried by some kind of impossible breeze. One smacked her in the face. (Or the Ouran High School Host Club AU. Or the Keysmash AU for the cultured people of the MGI server.)

Marinette literally just wanted to find a quiet place to study.

The library had been full of people that apparently didn’t know that they were supposed to ‘sh’. The classrooms were locked. All of the clubrooms had clubs going on (which, duh, but it was still disappointing).

So, she made her way through the school, considering just giving up and resigning herself to doing her work on the floor even if she knew it would leave her with a back that ached for the next several days…

And then her eyes landed on a room at the end of the hall. The door was ajar, but she could only hear a faint murmur of conversation and the quiet clinking of porcelain.

She considered it for a few moments before sighing to herself and hiking her bag up higher. It was either this or beginning the painfully long trudge back to her house immediately after her gym class. She was already sore, she just wanted to relax for a few minutes.

So, she pushed the door open wider.

Flowers fluttered past her, carried by some kind of impossible breeze.

One smacked her in the face.

She brushed it off of her nose, only to find herself blinking up at the most popular person in the school.

Richard Grayson-Wayne smiled at her, pretty as ever with his perfectly gelled hair and perfectly pressed clothes. She suddenly felt a very strong urge to check her reflection in a mirror and sniff herself to make sure that her after-gym shower had been enough.

“Oh, are you a new guest?”

“Guest?” She repeated, a little dumbly. Forgive her, for he had taken her by the hand and started leading her inside and she was confused.

But then she glanced around.

Everything in the room was needlessly extravagant and expensive, but so was the rest of Gotham Academy. That wasn’t what she focused on, though.

Horror seized her as she realized what, exactly, she had stumbled into.

Because, as she looked around, she recognized more and more of the school’s most popular kids, and all of them were attending to the many people (usually girls, but not always) crowding them. And she remembered what, exactly, Richard Grayson-Wayne’s extracurricular was.

She jerked her hand away, eyes wide. “Uh, no, I think you’ve got the wrong idea, sir,” she said. And then internally freaked out because why the hell did she call him sir? He was two years older than her! Damn it! She could feel her face flushing in embarrassment.

He smiled and brought his hand up to cup her cheek. “Am I not your type? You can take your pick of the others, you know.” He smoothly moved to loop his arm around her shoulders and lead her further into the room. “What are you into? Women? Men? Both? Strong people? Smarts? A sense of humor or a mischievous streak? A stoic type? A princely person?”

“Um, listen, I was just looking for a place to study,” she said, slipping out from under him and taking a few careful steps backwards.

He smiled. “Of course you were,” he said in that tone people used when they were only humoring you.

She gave an awkward little laugh, still doing her best to back away from the situation in the most literal sense she could. “Seriously, I’m just going to go –.”

Her back hit something and she whipped around, her eyes wide, just in time to watch a vase pitch itself off a pillar.

She reached for it. Her fingers just barely brushed the handle. And then it hit the ground.

The porcelain shattered upon impact.

She stared at the shards, her hands resting on the pillar it had just been resting on as if trying to replace it, wishing that she could simply put the pitcher back together by sheer force of will. The color drained from her face as it slowly began to sink in that this was reality, that she had just broken a vase that had to be expensive considering everything else at this school was.

Marinette slowly turned back around to find everyone looking at her, their attention pulled by the loud crash. She swallowed thickly, her gaze flickering between the broken vase and Richard rapidly.

She needed to say something. Anything.

“I mean. It was kind of ugly.”

Anything but that!

At least someone was amused. A woman with blond hair – Stephanie Brown, she remembered her being on the news a while back – turned her head to snicker into her hand.

She cleared her throat. “No, sorry, that was weird to say. I’ll – I’ll pay for it.”

A dark-skinned boy made his way over, frowning lightly. The glittery, gold makeup dotted across his cheeks like freckles seemed to shine as he looked her over. She recognized him to be one of the kids in her science class, but his name eluded her. “Aren’t you a scholarship kid?”

“She is,” an unfortunately familiar voice chimed in. Her eyes narrowed in on Tim Drake. He was glaring at her over the rim of his rich kid teacup.

Marinette’s face suddenly remembered how to circulate blood, but it had overcompensated in its rush to fix its mistakes. A blush rose to her cheeks. “Okay, and? What of it?”

This got another laugh, but this one sounded different. A little colder. Someone clicked their tongue. A boy with tan skin around in his chair, stroking a cat in his lap, like some kind of D-list Rogue. “Then can you really afford it?”

She glanced at the vase again and shrugged. “I mean… probably? It can’t be more than a few hundred, can it? It’ll be a bitch, but –.”

A woman wheeled over, her wheelchair coming to a stop just in front of the pillar Marinette was still leaning against in the worst attempt at acting natural anyone had ever seen. She recognized her as one of the library assistants. Barbara Gordon didn’t even bother to look up from her phone while she ruined Marinette’s life with a mere sentence: “We were about to auction it off for charity, and the starting price was fifty thousand USD.”

Marinette choked on air. “Fifty… fifty thousand?!” She repeated. She barely fought off the urge to scream about how it wasn’t even a nice looking vase. She figured yelling at the people she was suddenly indebted to was, probably, not a great idea.

A guy in a leather jacket gave her an empathetic look. She pretended not to notice for the sake of her own sanity.

“That’s a joke, right?” She tried, ignoring how desperate she sounded even to her own years.

A woman lazing in the window shook her head, black lipstick-covered lips just barely curled into a frown.

“Any chance I can pay this off in parts?” She asked, resisting the urge to start doing math on her fingers to figure out exactly how much she was going to have to give up to work all of this off. She would do that later, when there were no eyes on her. “I – I don’t have a job right now, but I can get one, I promise, I’ll find a way to pay you back –.”

Richard clapped his hands together once, but this time his smile held no real warmth. “Don’t worry, I can think of a job that just opened up.”

*****

“Marinette, I left you alone for ten minutes,” Adrien said, pinching the space between his brows. He was currently messing with chemicals, so touching his face was not advisable, but he was wearing gloves so he was still, at least, more safe than 99% of other high school students would be.

“It was closer to an hour and a half,” she mumbled, watching the beaker in front of her bubble. She was very dedicated to lab safety, thank you very much.

“How did you even manage to become the – did you say you’re the host club’s dog? What? Like the kink?”

She groaned. “I can’t think of a less literal translation, okay? It’s like… they want me to clean, set up events, help them with clothes, serve drinks and food…”

“Servant? Assistant?”

“Sure,” she said, throwing a hand up frustratedly. “But could we maybe focus on the rest of my problem instead of the fact that English isn’t my first language?”

He gave her a mildly amused look that she didn’t return. And then he sighed, picking up his mortar and pestle again. “Okay. Well. I could always –.”

“If you say you want to pay off my debt for me I’m pouring this down your throat.”

He cleared his throat awkwardly, obviously not too fond of the idea if he was preemptively touching his neck. “I see. Well. Then. I guess we’ll be seeing less of each other.”

“Thank fuck for that.”

He elbowed her in the side. “Don’t think you can get out of doing your half of the presentation.”

She groaned and burrowed into her Batman hoodie. “But if I do the presentation I have to dress up…”

“Yeah? I have to dress up every day, make sure to always have an entire section of my backpack devoted to skin and hair care products in case of emergencies, bring extra clothes to school, and –.”

“Shut uuuuuup I get it,” she huffed, moving her now-luminescent pink liquid off its burner. “Rich people have their own problems or whatever.”

“We do. Like making sure we make good connections while in school, something you –” he poked her cheek. “– need to work on. Maybe this host club thing will be good for you. Help you put yourself out there or whatever.”

“You just want to laugh at me.”

His lips twitched into a grin. “True.”

She scowled. “Put down the mortar and pestle.”

He seemed to want to say no, he wasn’t stupid enough to not know why she wanted him to put it down, but then thought better of it. He resigned himself to his fate, sighing and setting it aside.

She tackled him off of his chair.

*****

Marinette was pretty sure that they were making her set up the auction she had accidentally ruined purely to spite her. Like, sure, setting up everything was technically her job, but the chances of this being her first assignment were abysmal.

She forced herself to breathe through it. Go to her happy place. Four in. Murdering the Waynes but also keeping her scholarship. Four out. Good.

She carefully made her way back and forth, setting everything in their respective spots, at an inching pace – she was not going to add more debt by breaking something else. Then she went around making sure the lights shined on them just so to make them seem shinier (“rich people are like magpies,” she had been informed with a sage nod). Finally, she checked that all of the notecards were in order and that the mics were all working.

She spun around in the middle of the room, going over everything with a critical eye, and then nodded once to herself.

She headed to the ‘dressing room’ (it was a closet they had repurposed).

“I’m done, Richard.”

“Dick,” he corrected lightly, leaning in to check his teeth.

She raised an eyebrow. “Sorry?”

His eyes widened and he whirled around, holding his hands up in a half placating, half surrendering gesture. “Nonono, I’m not calling you that, I’m saying that’s my name. Dick. Short for Richard.”

“I know. I’m just sorry.”

Dick sputtered. Damian made a wheezing sound that might have been a laugh.

Unfortunately for Damian, the wheeze drew Marinette’s attention. She groaned. “Oh my god, put the cat down, you’re in a suit for fuck’s sake,” she hissed. She looked around until she found a lint roller, and then thrust it towards him. “Trade me.”

Damian looked affronted. “I’m not putting down Alfred.”

She had to force herself to ignore the fact that he had named his cat Alfred of all things, she needed to concentrate on what was really important: threatening him.

“You are going to put down Alfred. I suggest you do it willingly.”

It was Dick’s turn to snicker at his brother’s misfortune.

Neither spared him a glance, too locked in their staredown. Marinette had thought for a moment that Damian was going to actually try and throw hands, but at least she would still be winning in that case because he would have to let his cat go to do so.

Eventually, Damian heaved a long-suffering sigh and handed off the cat. She set Alfred in her hood just so she could cross her arms over her chest while she watched Damian struggle with the lint roller for a solid seven minutes. She might be indebted to these people, but damn if she wasn’t going to be passive aggressive about it.

Dick grinned, leaning his arm on her shoulder. She felt short, in that moment, but it wasn’t her fault that the man was freakishly tall.

“You’re the best hire we could have ever had,” said the man who was unaware she was considering kneecapping him to make herself seem taller.

Not that she was going to tell him.

“I’m being held captive.”

“Same difference,” he joked.

And, despite herself, a tiny smile made its way across her face. His happiness was strangely contagious. No wonder he was so popular in the host club.

She reached up to tap him on the nose. “You haven’t done your stage makeup yet.”

He yelped out a curse and then ran to look for the makeup brushes, muttering under his breath about how that was what he had forgotten.

*****

Marinette stumbled into the library, a hand absently rubbing an ache between her shoulder blades. Her eyes locked with Babs’.

“Is it in ye –?”

“No,” Babs said, still tapping away at her computer.

Marinette slumped against the doorframe, letting her head knock against the wood. Maybe it would give her good luck.

“Life is a tragedy and I’m nothing more than Shakespeare’s bitch.”

The woman sighed and pushed up her glasses to rub an eye. “I’ll check it out for you when it comes in. Give it to you during the host club.”

Her posture brightened instantly. “Really?”

“Yeah, just don’t lose it. I have a perfect record when it comes to turning my books in on time and I don’t want you to ruin that.”

She grinned and did a mock salute. “Aye-aye.”

*****

Marinette absently stacked the plates, cups, and spoons on top of each other to take them into the next room for a quick wash. She kind of liked finding the optimal ways to stack things, it was like a very high-stakes game of Tetris. She carefully picked up her tower and was pleased to find that it didn’t shake in the slightest.

Only to blink when Jason stood up, holding a tiny stack of his own.

“Let me help.”

She stared blankly for a moment before she finally caught a quiet gasp nearby. Her eyes flicked in that direction and found a customer practically cooing over the basic human decency Jason had displayed. She sighed a little. Right, they had an audience. She pulled a slightly wobbly smile to her face.

“Sure. Thanks,” she said carefully. In the end, even if it was just to forward his image as a ‘baddie with a heart of gold’, it was still help and she wasn’t intent on saying no just to be petty.

Or, at least, that was what she had thought until he had kept doing it. Almost every night, without fail, he would help her clean up after everyone. Even if all of the guests were gone by the time he got away.

She finally gave in one day, her hands almost elbow deep in the sink water:

“Why do you keep helping me? You know that this isn’t your job, right?”

He gave her a strange look for a moment.

And then he gave the slightest of smiles. “I was poor, once, too.”

She nodded slightly. They went back to work with a quiet sense of solidarity.

“Also, you take too long to wash dishes on your own.”

She splashed him with the sink water.

He gasped, puffing up in his mock offense. “Hey! These pants are supposed to be cared for! They’re hand wash only!”

“Then this is perfect,” she said, grinning. “It’s totally deserved.”

He raised an eyebrow. “So is this.”

He used the cup he had been washing to scoop up some water and dump it over her head.

She stared at him for a full minute in stunned silence. And then a grin broke out over her face.

He suddenly looked like he was considering running away.

In the end, they finished the day more clean than the dishes, but hey. It’s the thought that counts.

(Just kidding. Sanitation doesn’t work like that. They overloaded the dishwasher to fix their mistakes.)

*****

Marinette sighed and set the cake down on a table, then turned to leave.

She stopped short when she saw Tim in the doorway, his bag half off his shoulder where he had been about to fling it away from himself like he did every day while opening up the clubroom.

“How’d you…?”

She shrugged and held up a keyring. “Asked the janitor.”

His brows furrowed momentarily, as if he were thinking, but then he just shook his head to dismiss the thought.

“Why do you have a wedding cake? Did you have a Vegas wedding or something?”

She groaned internally and forced herself to straighten up to her full height. “My parents are bakers. The wedding they catered today didn’t end up happening. Bride got cold feet – uh, literally, she was murdered, y’know? – and they said to give this to my friends.”

He raised an eyebrow. “So you brought it here?”

“Well, Adrien doesn’t have a cheat day for another two weeks, and if I ever have another slice of cake it’ll be too soon. This is kinda the last place I’ve got. Besides, it could please your guests.”

“Couldn’t you just give it out to the people in your homeroom?”

She rolled her eyes. “Do you want the cake or not? Because I have to go to class soon. Unlike you, I’ll get thrown out if I don’t attend every one of my classes, Drake.”

He snorted. “Aw? The scholarship student is struggling in her classes?”

“That’s not why, and if you really think that then you’re dumber than I thought,” she said, curling her fists at her sides.

A couple of complicated expressions flicked over his face, none of which she could get a good read on, but Steph’s head appeared over Tim’s shoulder before either of them could say something they regretted.

“Shut up and let the nice girl give us cake, Tim,” Steph said, smacking him over the back of the head as she brushed past him to get in the door. She grinned at Marinette. “Thanks for the food.”

Marinette gave a tiny smile in return.

She smiled even wider when, as Steph passed, she asked Marinette under her breath if she wanted to join her in throwing a slice of the cake into Tim’s face. As if it was even a question.

*****

Duke squinted at the needle in her hand suspiciously. His arm was already sanitized and the needle was prepped, it would only take around thirty minutes for her to get a sufficient amount of his blood to analyze. “Are you sure you know how to do this?”

She huffed. “Of course I do. Don’t be a pussy.”

“That’s sexist.”

“Okay? And not volunteering to help for my project is anti black.”

There was a beat before the pair of them broke into quiet snickers. Quiet, because neither of them wanted to get caught slacking off in the middle of their research class.

Marinette tapped the needle. “Don’t worry, if you’re good I’ll give you a cake pop.”

His smile almost seemed to light up the room. “Sounds like a deal. Stick me.”

(Later, she had found herself staring at his vitals with mild confusion. He almost didn’t seem human. And then she had quietly dismissed them as an outlier. Maybe she’d ask if he had been a victim of a Rogue attack recently when she saw him at their next host club meeting. Or not. That was kinda personal.)

*****

Marinette liked Cass. Neither of them really talked, but Cass didn’t talk much to anyone anyways.

Still, the girl was a soothing presence. Sometimes, when the days were slow or while they were waiting for the club to start, they could be seen sitting in the same window. Cass would listen to music. Marinette would do her homework or read a book.

It was pleasant.

At least, it was pleasant most of the time. It turns out a silent person can be a bad thing. Marinette now had a permanent chemical burn on the back of her arm because Cass had come up to her at the wrong time, had tapped her on the shoulder, and Marinette had flinched so hard in her surprise that she had ended up spilling an entire beaker over the back of her wrist.

She was pretty sure the seven solid, apology-filled minutes where Cass had helped her rush to the nurse’s office to stem the blood bubbling on her arm was the most she had ever heard her talk before.

*****

Marinette glared at her reflection, aggressively applying stage makeup to the area under her eyes. She would have to wash it all off right afterwards, stage makeup looks strange when up close and not under the effect of near-blinding lights. And then, after that, she would have to sit still while Adrien applied even more, but wildly different makeup to her face, for the second half of the conference where she would be forced to shmooze for the sake of funding.

But that was a problem for later. She needed to make sure everything was perfect.

Anything less than the best score in the school could throw her scholarship into jeopardy.

At least this was getting her out of her usual host club duties. Marinette and Adrien needed to present, so she would have gotten out for a few hours no matter what, but a solid number of the (actual, willing) host club members were in their age group. Duke, Tim, and Steph all had projects today as well.

They had canceled the host club for the day. Maybe the others would be attending the presentation, maybe not, she didn’t really care.

All she cared about right now was making sure she didn’t look like some kind of ethereal being made of light on stage.

A head dropped onto her shoulder and she rolled her eyes. “You look like a ghoul.”

Adrien grinned. “I think this is the best I’ve ever looked.”

“True.”

He gasped. “Rude.”

“I mean, you kinda set that one up for me,” she said, gently shoving him off so she could straighten fully. She patted down her deep red dress, checked her black heels to make sure they weren’t going to slip, and then turned to him. “Good?”

He hummed thoughtfully, tipping his head to the side. And then he shook his head, motioning for her to turn around. “I told you you needed to do something with your hair,” he said.

She huffed. “I did.”

“Letting it out of its usual pigtails is not ‘doing something’.”

“I mean… if you want to define the words –.”

He snorted. “Shut up. Let me fix this.”

She waited impatiently for him to brush her hair and pull it into a strict bun.

She scrunched her nose at her reflection. “I look like a teacher.” She pulled a strand out to frame her face.

He tucked it right back behind her ear. “Well, you’re teaching these people –.”

“You’re the most infuriating person I’ve ever met.”

“You’re looking in a mirror. Time to meet someone even worse. Nettie, meet Nettie.”

She pulled away the moment he was done. “The moment this is all over I’m beating your ass.”

“I mean, you kinda set that one up for me,” he mocked.

“I’m not kidding, Chaton. Meet me in the parking lot at 7pm.”

He only grinned, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his suit, and jerked his head to point towards the stage.

*****

Marinette and Adrien had chosen the safest possible option. Even if neither of them really cared about how the overexposure to chemicals had affected the average Gothamite’s physiology – they already knew that it would boost their immune systems in some areas, weaken it in some areas, and just generally cause a myriad of lung and heart problems, they weren’t stupid – it was something they knew was both a popular question at the moment and something that rich people would want to know so they could start finding solutions for themselves.

Which meant they might get funding from people that weren’t just Adrien’s Dad. Not only did Marinette not want to rely on him, grades and future teams/assignments were determined by how much funding you received. They were already at a disadvantage, Marinette’s parents weren’t rich and couldn’t make a sizable contribution like every other family at the academy could. They needed to win over anyone they could.

And they had done pretty well. Marinette had only stuttered and considered asking Adrien to anti-Bruce-Wayne her parents a single time.

They’d made up for it in the questions portion. The subject of chemicals was something they both knew an ungodly amount about, so they answered every question sent their way without a hint of hesitation. In the end, they’d gotten quite a few people to come up to tell them that they would be donating to their ‘cause’.

She hadn’t expected one of the people they had won over to be Bruce Wayne, though.

Marinette fought to not shrink back as the man that sponsored the scholarship program she used began to head her way. He was Gotham’s sweetheart, and a bit of a dunce, but he still held more power over her than she would prefer.

And he had his kids in tow. Even more people that could choose to ruin her life on a whim. Fun. She definitely wanted more of those.

She got a thumbs up from Cass, at least. Thanks, Cass.

As for the rest of the Wayne kids… they were currently looking at her like she had spontaneously sprouted an extra head. She made a tiny ‘what the fuck’ gesture with her hand, but they were too stunned to give her any kind of meaningful response.

Marinette looked to Adrien, and he looked back at Marinette, both of them making sure that they looked as good as was physically possible. They took the moment to share quiet ‘do you know what’s going on with them?’ looks, and ended up with nothing.

And then they threw a pair of identical smiles the Waynes’ way.

“Mr. Wayne!” She said with false cheer. “It’s so nice to see you! How is business going?”

He grinned. “It’s been great. You didn’t hear it from me, but I’m pretty sure our stock prices are about to jump.”

Adrien laughed lightly. “Oh? I’ll be sure to tell my dad to invest.”

Marinette wanted to die.

“Ah, yes, good investments are good,” the man said, giving him a daft kind of smile. And then he reached out and patted Marinette on the top of the head, making the tiny strand of hair tucked behind her ear fall back into her face. Luckily, the man didn’t notice. “Like her. Back when I first started sponsoring you, even I never could have guessed that you would become so smart.”

She forced a blush to her face. “Well, I’m just really good with chemistry. I’m just glad that it was accepted as being close enough to biology to count.”

“Our mutual love of chemical experimentation is what brought us together in the first place.”

Marinette leaned in conspiratorially, cupping a hand over her mouth to stage-whisper to the others: “Don’t let him fool you, he’s talking about the time he blew up his microwave.”

“For science! It was an experiment!” Adrien said with false offense.

Bruce chuckled good-naturedly and started rifling through his pockets for a checkbook. “Well, it would be wrong to give money to all my other kids and leave you out, don’t you think?”

Marinette stared at him for a moment, her fake smile fading slightly in favor of pure confusion. “Sir, I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m not one of your kids.”

And, sure, she knew that Bruce Wayne’s kid situation was a little strange. There were only five actual Wayne kids: Dick Grayson-Wayne, Jason Wayne, Cassandra Wayne, Damian Al Ghul- Wayne, and Duke Thomas. There was also the weird gray area that was Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, and Barbara Gordon, all of whom had one or more living parents but often found themselves grouped with the others because of how close they were to the Wayne family.

But Marinette? Marinette was a scholarship kid that was being forced to be around them all. She had talked to Bruce Wayne a grand total of four times, and one of those times was happening at this exact moment.

Bruce Wayne blinked once. Twice. Three times. And then he smacked his palm against his forehead. “Oh! Right! Sorry, the others talk about you so much that sometimes I forget you aren’t my kid.”

Marinette sometimes wondered if a man could truly be this dumb.

“Ah, don’t worry, I’m sure my parents could identify every single one of them in a line up with how much I talk about them,” she said, forcing her sweetest tone even as her gaze cut to the Wayne kids in a way that screamed ‘I have talked about murdering you multiple times’.

The Waynes now looked like they had just watched her grow a third head and were now resigned to the fact that she could apparently grow more heads. An improvement? Maybe?

Bruce chuckled and patted her on the head again. “They are little scamps, aren’t they?”

“They’re sweet, though,” she lied through her teeth. “I enjoy every minute we spend together.”

“I’d hope so!” The man said cheerfully.

And then Bruce, the godsend, the best person to ever exist, wrote a check and dropped it in her donation box. Marinette only just refrained from pumping her fist.

Still, the smile Adrien and Marinette gave after that was far more genuine.

Adrien smiled. “That was very nice of you, Mr. Wayne.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said.

“Of course! And, please, both of you, call me Bruce.”

“I don’t think you understand how much I just… can’t do that.”

He chuckled and gave her one last pat on the head – Adrien looked like he wanted to cry a little as his careful work started to come undone for real – before heading off to do whatever it was rich people do.

His kids didn’t join him.

Marinette turned to Steph, Tim, and Duke. “Good job on your presentation, Duke.”

(Listen, she liked Steph well enough, but Tim was a dick and she would rather die than compliment his work. Especially not when he was her main competition at the school.)

Tim didn’t even seem to register the snub, for once.

This gave Duke plenty of time to snicker and tell her, “I totally bombed. My partner didn’t even read the note cards I gave her.”

“I mean, yeah, but you’re not supposed to say that.”

He could only shrug a little, somewhere between amused and annoyed.

Dick didn’t give her much time to register the motion, though, as he came up and rested his hands on her shoulders.

She blinked at him. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re weirdly touchy?”

“I – wha –?” He shook his head, and she wasn’t sure if that was an answer or if he was just dismissing the question. “You’ve been attractive this whole time?”

Marinette ignored the fact that Adrien had chosen to break down laughing. It was surely unrelated.

She looked up at Dick for a moment. “I mean… duh?”

“But…” Damian said, sounding almost pained. “Every time we’ve seen you, you’ve worn a hoodie and jeans.”

“Yeah, because I’m not really interested in looking good for – I don’t know – fucking Kyle from my Calculus class.” She huffed. “Besides. Nice clothes? Makeup? That stuff is expensive. Way too expensive to use when I’m not getting any kind of return, y’know?”

Steph nodded her agreement. Ah. Working class solidarity. It does exist, after all.

And then Babs wheeled herself closer, looking mildly amused. “And if you can get a return?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Next

[the-coffee-fandom]

See the animated version here

[stillprocrastinatingsorry]

Sooo, I didn't officially join the maribat civil war, but I doodled a couple pairs...

Imma aim for one per pair (well I'll try) and will post a close up when they're done (at some point in time).

😬