#end him and his minions reign of terror.

[jinx-jade]

And they were roommates

For @the-coffee-fandom

It had taken five years to defeat Hawkmoth and retrieve the missing miraculi. Five long years of fighting, planning, and bottling up emotions, but at last, it was finally over.

Despite the dramatics of each minion created over and over again in Hawkmoth's image, the end of the Parisian hostage situation was a quiet affair that was handled quickly and without some large announcement. In fact, no one had been made aware that they were once again free to feel and experience emotions without the need to worry about possible possession by an evil butterfly.

The threat simply ceased to exist overnight. Gone forever without any hint as to how or why. The only people who knew at what moment Hawkmoth's reign of terror truly came to an end were Hawkmoth, the man himself, and those who helped to decide his punishment for the misuse of multiple miraculi.

For the spotted heroine, it felt as if a weight had been lifted off her chest. Her duty, the one thing she had promised to all of Paris at the beginning of the war, was finally fulfilled. And just as she had proclaimed, Hawkmoth had been the one to hand over his miraculi of his own accord, having only needed a little push in the right direction.

The push, in this case, was offering to heal his comatose wife, for a price, and it was a price he was more than happy to pay. All that was needed was for Hawkmoth, the elder Agreste man, to give up not only his miraculous but also the ability for his wife’s and his own bloodlines’ to wield, hold, or claim any object inhibited by a kwami as their own. It had only taken a simple blood pact that had been created by previous guardians as a way to banish those seen as unworthy from the temple, to make this rule a reality for both the Agreste and the Graham de Vanily bloodlines. However, it was this blood pact that led to the accidental half-reveal between the two Parisian heroes, when the black cat, peacock, and butterfly miraculi all reappeared inside the miracle box as soon as Ladybug honored her side of the deal.

"No no no no no-" The bluenette mumbled under her breath in a panic.

Reaching into the miracle box with shaky hands, Marinette picked up the ring that had once belonged to her partner; former partner. She slid the ring onto her finger, watching with a held breath as the kwami of destruction and ill fortune manifested before her.

“Pigtails? What happened? Where’s the kid?” Plagg questioned, looking around the remains of a familiar pink room that held more packed boxes than it held personal items.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Marinette whispered, raising a hand to her mouth in growing horror.

Plagg zipped over to the bluenette, hovering in front of her.

“What- is he? He’s not-…” The black cat stuttered, unable to continue his sentence.

“No Plagg, he’s not dead,” Tikki reassured her other half, despite how her head hung low, and her voice held the same tone she usually used whenever they were grieving the loss of one of their wielders.

“Then where is he, Sugar cube, and what’s wrong with your bug?”

Tikki shook her head, floating slowly over to her other half’s side, grabbing his paw, she led him to the opposite side of the room. Leaning in close, the kwami of creation and fortune whispered just loud enough for the other to hear.

Plagg chuckled, a low and dark sound in the dimly lit room at the news of Adrien being alive but unable to wield a miraculi ever again. He floated over to Marinette’s side, gently wiping away her tears, even as they continued to fall.

“It’s alright pigtails. You didn’t know.” The black cat kwami murmured as Marinette continued to cry apology after apology.

At some point late at night, during the early hours of the morning, the three of them fell asleep, curled up together in the mess of pillows and blankets that had been haphazardly thrown together in a pile on the floor. It was a mess, but to be fair, so were they. And the next morning, a few hours after the three had fallen asleep, Marinette got up just long enough to ask her parents to call her out sick and grab some food and snacks for herself and the two kwamis.

When it was time for lunch, Sabine brought up a bowl of soup and bread, placing it at Marinette's desk.

“Sweetheart? Are you alright?” The older woman asked, taking a seat next to her daughter among the pile of fluffy objects.

“...No. I’m not.” The bluenette admitted after some gentle nudges from the red kwami.

"Did the Hawkmoth confrontation not go as planned?" Sabine inquired, only to receive a half shrug, half shake of her daughter’s head.

"Hawkmoth isn't a threat anymore, and the bloodline punishment worked," Tikki explained in her wielder's place.

"Oh? Then what's bothering you, dear?"

Marinette blinked up at her mother with teary eyes.

"Hawkmoth was Gabriel Agreste…and I know it's stupid- but with the type of punishment used, Adrien can't be Chat Noir- or use any of the miraculi- and I just ripped away his ability to use any of the miraculi and he's always said it was his freedom, and I ripped that away- he was my best friend for years, mama- and he was an amazing partner and I-... I don't know-..." The bluenette trailed off.

"Oh, sweetheart, you were going to ask him to be your life partner, weren't you?" Sabine guessed correctly, earning a nod from her daughter.

"Marinette, the thing about life partners is that they are always harder to find than they seem, and often aren't the first person you consider." The older woman points out gently. "I know some of the other priests and priestesses say to settle down with your best friend, but sometimes, you need someone who understands you in a way that just a friend isn't capable of."

"You and papa make it look so easy with your fairytale love story. " Marinette mumbled with a pout, which earned a chuckle from her mother.

"We're far from perfect, but we communicate with each other, and that is the key to any good relationship, platonic or romantic. Besides, Tom was actually my third potential suitor." Sabine whispered conspiringly.

"Really? I didn't know that!" Marinette says with wide eyes, earning another round of laughter from her mother.

"Mhmm, and with each suitor I thought, this is it, this is who I want to share my soul with," Sabine says, shaking her head with a huffed chuckle.

"The first one was a childhood crush from my prayer group, I was eleven or twelve at the time when everything was still some fantasy dream you only hear about. The second was my best friend when I was seventeen. Just like you, I thought it would be amazing to settle down with my best friend for life, but then I left the temple. I left home and I found someone who understands me without the need to speak. Someone willing to put in just as much effort and energy into the relationship as I was, despite how easy it felt. And while the elders had been hesitant to allow our union, it helps that your father was able to learn some of the basic magic skills. " The older woman explained.

"The elders wouldn’t allow you to take Adrien as your life partner even if he had the chance to agree to the terms of courtship. They won't even consider him a potential suitor with his inability to wield a miraculi in addition to his lack of magic, " Sabine continued. Running a hand through her daughter’s messy hair, she gently began untangling the knots as she went.

"It's just so dumb. I understand the rules and traditions, but for whatever reason, I still wanted to pick the one person who I'm not allowed to pick." Marinette pointed out with a huff, wiping at her watery eyes. "I've seen the alternate realities where we had gotten together, and they all ended in apocalyptic circumstances! I shouldn't have even entered this stupid, stupid crush for as long as I have!" The bluenette groans, burying her face into a nearby pillow.

"It's not stupid, sweetheart, just a case of puppy love. It will fade." Sabine cooed, wiping away the tears that threatened to fall.

"The kid was your best friend within the safety the mask provided. It was understandable for you to grow attached." The black cat kwami murmured from where he was curled up on Marinette’s shoulder. "Hell, I know I did. He might not have been one of my kittens, but he sure was one of the best wielders I've had in a long while."

Sabine hummed in agreement.

"It probably didn't help to have him wielding the complementary miraculous to yours. There is a reason that tethered miraculi are usually used by tethered souls. The fact that you're not romantically involved with anyone would make it easier for the ladybug miraculi to alter your emotions to fit that of someone who is tethered to the other." Tikki pointed out, causing the bluenette to groan.

"Don't you just love magic?" Marinette asked sarcastically, earning a light swat on the arm from her mother.

"Come on, get up and eat. Your food is probably cold by now." Sabin says, prompting another groan and a round of grumbled complaints as Marinette sluggishly pulls herself out of the fluffy pile of pillows and blankets.

"...how about we take a trip to the temple for your birthday?" Sabine suggested after a few moments of thinking.

"It would be nice, but we don't have time, mama. Next week is finals and then I have a plane to catch right after school on the last day." Marinette reminds her mother.

"I'm sure we could work it out with your teachers, maybe come into school early on Monday, take all of your tests, and then we'll leave for Tibet." The older woman explains.

"Yeah, that could work." Marinette hummed in agreement, and that's exactly what they did.

Sabine set up the tests with Marinette’s teachers, and the bluenette came in early Monday morning to take all of the tests. Once they were complete, the Dupain-Chengs took a much-needed trip back home to the Tibetan temple.

Despite the bluenette’s protests, the elders had put together a welcome ceremony that began the moment the Dupain-Chengs helicopter had settled down on the landing pad. Practically every villager was gathered, waiting patiently, or impatiently if one was referring to the children, in neat rows with a clear pathway from the helicopter pad to the main temple. Those who were lined directly along the path held unlit candles cradled in their hands, offering them in Marinette's direction with their heads bowed in a show of both greeting and respect.

Looking away from her people, blue eyes locked with her mother’s dark obsidian eyes. Marinette sighed, taking the first step out of the flying vehicle. Sparks of light shoot out in waves of swirls from where the guardian had stepped causing a surge of energy to wash over the temple grounds. The wick of each candle offered to the guardian caught fire as she walked by them until eventually, every candle was lit with flickering blue flames.

When the Dupain-Chengs reached the main temple, they were greeted by seven of the nine court elders. Each one of the elders took the time to bow their heads with their fisted hands placed over their hearts. Marinette dipped her head in return.

The trip only lasted six days, during which, a majority of the bluenette's time was spent meditating, speaking with the elders, and participating in quite a few required ceremonies. Marinette, as per tradition, held a banquet in the lotus garden courtyard during the evening of her second day and last day back at the temple. During the banquet, the guardian performed a large tea blessing ceremony. The tea leaves were mixed into a few cauldrons full of low-boiling birch water while she whispered prayers to each kwami, calling on each of their souls to protect her people from harm. A few batches of this particular tea were made in order to have enough for the whole village.

The day Marinette returned to Paris with her mother and father was the last day of the school year. Despite the lack of classwork to do, classes continued as they would any other day of school. Most classes were spent talking about what everyone had planned for the break, or where people were going to school the following year. And of course, the Akuma class couldn’t stay on topic for an entire day’s worth of conversations about the future. A majority of the class was gossiping about the dramatic reappearance of Gabrial Agreste’s supposed late wife, who was very much alive.

According to the rumors going around, Adrien was taken out of school a few days early to spend time with his mother. This meant that Marinette wouldn't have to see her former partner, who held quite a few of her almosts that ended as nevers. She was glad to not be forced to see what effect, if any, the loss of the blond's miraculous had on Adrien. It definitely made it easier for Marinette to accept her decision to follow one of the elder's advice and move on from Paris as a whole.

There was a taxi waiting outside of the bakery when she got there. Her luggage was already packed inside and her parents were chatting with the driver while handing him some pastries and a cup of coffee. Marinette smiled, hugging her parents tight as they whispered goodbyes and wishes for safe travels.

An hour later, blue eyes stared out the window at the retreating image of Paris.

It was an eight-hour flight, but thanks to the time difference, only two hours had passed by from when she left Paris to when she landed in Gotham. Another hour or so was used to grab her luggage and eat an early dinner at one of the food stalls outside of the boarding area. Marinette should have known better than to stay at the Gotham airport for longer than she needed to, and based on the screams that had started only moments after the bluenette had sat down with her food, it was a lesson she was going to be learning the hard way as gas started to fill the area.

All of a sudden she was back in Paris. Her former partner was dressed in all white with blue eyes instead of green. They were surrounded by dead civilians and dozens of akumas hovering around Chat blanc, waiting for her akumatized partner to give them orders.

One of the akumas tried to grab Marinette, only for her to leg sweep them, taking their akumatized object and dismantling it. More akumas seemed to notice Ladybug after that first one. The akumas were rushing in her direction, away from the dead remains of the city’s people.

Everything that happened next was in quick succession. The time from the first akuma take down to the next one, and the next one, and the next, seemed to blur together until the reserve team of miraculi users had entered the fight.

Once all of the Akumas were taken care of, one of the other miraculi users approached Ladybug with caution. A quick pinch to her neck later had Marinette’s vision blurring and her knees give out. The teammate that had been approaching with caution darted forward to catch Marinette just before she could hit the floor.

"Miss, can you hear me? Are you alright?" A masked red, black, and gold hero questioned in a tone of voice the bluenette recognized as one usually used for akuma victims.

"Mmhm." Marinette hummed, blinking hard as she attempted to take back in her surroundings. "I'm fine, err, I'm okay." She reassured the vigilant, cringing at the way her voice cracked.

She was helped over to one of the medical teams by the vigilante who had caught her, Red Robin, if she remembered correctly.

The paramedic checked the bluenette over for any injuries that needed to be treated. To everyone's surprise but her own, Marinette was deemed fine and uninjured by the medicinal professional.

One of the cops came over to take her statement, and with a sigh, Marinette explained what happened to the best of her ability. Her explanation was met with a look of disbelief.

"From what the few people visually unaffected were saying, you’re the one who took down the majority of these guys, and now you're saying you couldn't hear anything and were visually hallucinating?" The cop that was taking her statement said with a raised brow, causing Marinette to snort.

"I'm from Paris, France. We pretty much thrive off functioning properly while suppressing emotions, and in all honesty, this was probably the equivalent of a small-scale akuma attack." The bluenette says with a shrug, watching the cop nod his head in sympathy.

"You're a long way from home." The cop pointed out, flipping his notepad shut.

"Am I free to go?" Marinette asked, not acknowledging the cop's last comment.

"Hm? Yeah, you're free to go." The cop said with a nod of his head, walking off to question someone else.

Gathering her luggage, Marinette left the airport, flagging down a taxi. One stops by the curb only a few seconds later. It's not a relatively short or long ride from the airport to Marinette’s college dorm, about a half-hour trip total. Checking in with the front desk took another twenty or so minutes before they gave Marinette her dorm key and sent her on her way.

Unsurprisingly, the bluenette was the first one to arrive at her shared dorm room, having arrived about a month early. A quick look around the apartment-style dorm showed that she would luckily only have one roommate. The kitchen had cabinet space and an island bar, with a fridge, a stove oven hybrid, and a sink, but no dishwasher. There wasn't a dining area, not unless you want to use the living room entryway area, which was a big empty space at the moment. The hallway across from the kitchen leads to three doors. One to the left, which was a bedroom, one to the right, another bedroom, and one at the end of the hall, which was the bathroom.

After one more check around the dorm, mainly to look for any hidden cameras, while also placing protection wards, and signal disruptors, Marinette finally began unpacking. Opening the pocket dimension she had used as storage, the bluenette started putting away her kitchenware in their proper cabinets and drawers. A towel was put on the counter next to the sink, in place of a drying rack she needed to buy. The fridge and pantry were next on the list of things to unpack, with a list made of what she had forgotten and needed to get from the grocery store. Then was the bathroom, which she stocked with towels, toilet paper, and other necessary products.

The last things to unpack were for her bedroom. She had left it last for a reason, and that reason was procrastination.

It took a while to assemble her new bed, desk, and dresser, but the easier tasks, part of setting up her room, could only be accomplished after those were done. She ended up taking a break to eat a few snacks since her dinner had gotten interrupted earlier that evening. After her long drawn-out snack break, Marinette eventually got everything unpacked and set up properly.

Having completed everything she needed, Marinette promptly crashed onto her bed to sleep off the jet lag. The next few days were spent resting and building up a new storage of emergency energy in each kwami's specialized area and subareas of power. She didn't leave the dorm for three days, allowing each kwami to explore and bless their new home for the upcoming school year. On the fourth day, Marinette finally left the safety of her dorm to run some errands, like finally buying a dish rack, and getting more groceries.

Slipping her shoes on, Marinette walked out the door and down to the lobby while double-checking the list on her phone.

"Pardon, excusez-moi." The bluenette says, stepping off to the side with a twirl, just barely avoiding walking into someone.

Damian rolled his eyes at the French girl’s pointless apology, continuing his walk over to the front desk. After about a half hour of the fool behind the desk floundering at his job, he finally handed the former assassin his dorm key.

Taking the elevator up to the seventh floor, Damian made his way to his overly expensive ‘assigned’ dorm. The term ‘assigned’ was used very loosely whenever money got involved. Seeing as the former assassin still has the habit of injuring people who enter his personal space, Bruce had thought it best to insure that Damian would be put with as few people as possible.

Opening the door to his dorm, Damian walked in, not yet removing his shoes, he instead opted to survey the area.

There were dishes in the kitchen and food in the fridge and pantry where Damian had expected to find empty space. A scoff left his lips as his annoyance with the simpletons kissing up to his family name began to simmer under his skin.

Moving down the hall, he opened one of the doors, and as expected, it was empty of everything except a cheap bed and nightstand. The door at the end of the hallway was a bathroom that was already stocked with products. In contrast to the room he had just seen, everything in the bathroom looked new and expensive, with glass jars full of different creams and soaps.

The last door was the one across from the bedroom, and when Damian opened it, a few thoughts switched gears and clicked into place.

This room was another bedroom, except it was fully furnished with pastel pinks, sage greens, cream, and gray. The cheap bed and nightstand had been replaced with higher-quality items. A new bed, desk, dresser, and some other decorative furniture had been arranged neatly in the small room.

The reason that this room was different from the other room was that his roommate had already moved in. The kitchen and bathroom items that had originally felt like someone added them in to earn favor from the Wayne family, no longer bother him in the way that people fawning over him or his family does. No, now it bothered him because his plan to come to the dorms early and not have to deal with people was ruined by his unknown, singular (thankfully), roommate.

With a sigh, Damian continued as if his plans hadn’t been interrupted, pulling out his phone to scroll through it idly. He received a message from the moving company twenty minutes later and had to meet them down in the lobby to escort them up.

A total of one hundred thirty-seven minutes, or two hours and seventeen minutes later, Damian was escorting the moving workers out of the building. And once he was no longer responsible for any visitors, Damian went back to the quiet of the elevator, ready to collapse onto his new bed or break in the speed bag that had just been put up.

Either one will have to wait until he is back in his room, which can’t happen until the elevator doors open to allow him in.

“Ah, good evening.” The French girl from earlier greeted him, with her hands full of shopping bags, waiting, just like him, for the elevator doors to open.

Damian nodded his head instead of returning her greeting, not caring enough for a proper ‘Hello’. However, unlike his idiotic siblings, Damian was unwilling to tarnish Pennyworth’s name as an etiquette teacher with his own lack of care for being a ‘proper gentleman’, and so, he gave a nod in acknowledgment as a compromise.

The elevator arrived at the ground floor. Its heavy metal doors slid open along its mechanical rail tracks.

Both college students walked inside the elevator.

Damian went to press the button for the seventh floor, only for the French girl to press it first. The two young adults glanced at each other for the invasion of space, but otherwise, they stood in silence, waiting for the machinery to reach the desired floor.

A ding from the elevator signals their arrival, and they both step out through the metal doors, beginning the walk down the hall to their respective doors.

Except, instead of going their separate ways to their own dorms, they end up at the same door.

“Eight-three-one?” The girl asked, having pulled a key from her bag, showing off the tag designating it as this door's key.

With a tired breath, Damian did the same, pulling his key out to show the girl, his roommate it seemed, his same key and tag.

“Mhm.” The girl hummed after examining the tag on his key, she gestured to the door. “If you won’t mind.”

“Wouldn’t or don’t, not won’t,” The former assassin corrected off-handedly, unlocking the door to their shared dorm apartment and pushing it open to allow the girl inside.

“Ah! Merci.” The girl thanked him, walked inside, and placed the bags on top of the kitchen island.

“Have you looked around and unpacked?” She asked while sorting through her bags, putting the food away in its proper area, and leaving the non-food objects inside one of the bags.

“I have.” Damian says, and after a moment of thought adds on, “I do apologize if I disturbed any of your belongings while looking around and unpacking. I was originally under the impression that I had arrived before any potential roommates. However, that assumption was quickly proven incorrect after checking the rooms.” the former assassin explained.

Looking away from her groceries and up at him with eyes that are an unnaturally bright shade of blue, the girl offered him a slight smile, more so an upturn of her lips than anything else.

"You are an honest person." The girl points out with a nod of her head as if Damian had passed some kind of test.

"It's not so much honesty as it is an unwillingness to waste time on useless sugar-coated words." The former assassin corrected, which earned something a little closer to an actual smile from the girl.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and you?" The girl introduced herself, glancing in his direction.

"Damian Al Ghul."

Marinette hummed in acknowledgment, looking away from her newly introduced roommate to grab the last bag full of the remaining non-edible objects.

"Eat whatever you like." The bluenette says, gesturing at the fridge. "We can figure out the rules of coexisting tomorrow since it's so late." She suggested.

"That's reasonable enough." Damian agreed as Marinette disappeared into her room.

The bluenette leaned back against her closed bedroom door as it closed, forcing herself to take a deep breath in an attempt not to panic.

When Duusu flew over to check on her, Marinette cut the peacock kwami off with her index finger pressed to her lips in a silent gesture for quiet. It was only after a few moments of silence that Marinette pushed herself up off the door, moving to check over the protection wards, adding a sound concealing effect to them. Once that was done, she turned to face the curious, hovering kwamis.

“What’s the likelihood that his last name is just a coincidence?” The bluenette asked them, but they only looked at their guardian in confusion.

“Well, I’m not sure, Miss! What’s his last name and who are we talking about?” Ziggy asked before any of her siblings could.

“My roommate. His name is Damian Al Ghul… that's just a coincidence, right? He's not here for the miracle box is he?” Marinette asked, flopping back onto her bed.

“Depends on what you are considering as a coincidence, pigtails, and I'd say is a fifty-fifty shot on whether or not the kid's here for us,” Plagg says with a shrug, joining Marinette on top of her bed comforters.

"I'm confused. I thought the Al Ghuls were in an alliance with the order." Daizzi voiced, lowering his paw from where he had once been raising it in an attempt to catch everyone's attention.

"They are- well, sort of? It's more of an agreement to not act with hostile intent towards each other." Marinette attempted to explain.

"Why aren't we in an actual alliance with them? Wouldn't that stop them from taking us?" Duusu questioned, looking from one kwami to the next.

"To have an actual alliance with the Shadows, both organizations would have to be on what they perceive as equal footing." Marinette sighed. "With the Order having a box full of gods at their disposal, the Shadows would want at least half of you." The bluenette explained.

"Oh- oh dear... I can't imagine that would end well." The peacock kwami worried.

“If he was looking for the mircauli he wouldn’t have stopped in the doorway after only a glance inside your room. Well, that and he wouldn’t have been allowed into the dorm as a whole if he had ill intent.” Orikko pointed, earning agreement from some of the other kwamis who happened to be out and about.

“With how out of balance your luck is, it wouldn’t be that bazaar if the kid was just like you.” The black cat kwami states lazily, earning a raised brow from his guardian.

“What- an unwilling heir to an ancient organization?” Marinette questions sarcastically.

“Exactly!” Plagg grinned.

“You never know, '' Trixx shrugged. "I bet a box of berries that he is. Why not test him? See if he recognizes the League of Shadow’s symbol. If he does then he’s likely a descendant of the old demon, and if he doesn’t then it really is just a coincidence.” The fox kwami suggests.

“I’ll think about it.” Marinette yawned. “Now off to bed. All of you, we don’t need a repeat of the wobbly tower incident.”

The kwamis laughed in amusement at their guardian's half-hearted glare but complied with her instructor nevertheless.

The next morning Marinette got up, grabbing a change of clothes before heading down the hall for a shower. She thinks over Trixx’s proposed idea as the steam begins to fill the room. Every possibility of what could go wrong ran through the bluenette's head faster than she could process them. Maybe Marinette was overthinking things. It’s just a symbol. She could write it anywhere in his line of sight, and see if he recognizes it or has a reaction to it.

Stepping out of the shower, Marinette began drying off, applying lotion to the newly dried surface before getting dressed. She wiped an area of the mirror clean of water vapor in order to check her reflection. And as the steam began to cover the reflective glass again, an idea pops into Marinette’s mind.

With a steady breath, she gathers a small portion of Longg’s elemental energy, using it to keep the layer of water vapor in place as she draws. Once Marinette finished drawing the symbol she locked the energy in place, adding a conditional unlocking sequence. The trigger for said lock was for someone other than Marinette to see it. Then the water vapor would be free to disperse on its own.

After one more steady breath, the bluenette grabbed her dirty clothes and stepped out of the bathroom, making a b-line to her bedroom. The clothes were unceremoniously thrown into the hamper in Marinette's closet. And just as she was about to leave, a glint of light caught her eye from the top of her dresser.

Looking over the object, Marinette could only sigh.

“Which one of you took this out of its box?” The bluenette questions with furrowed brows, having not seen any of the kwamis out of their box.

There was a purple blur as one of the kwamis flew over to the object that should have been tucked safely away in its box.

“I thought… you could- perhaps, use it?” Nooroo mumbled, unsure of his decision. “Ah- not that you need extra protection! Just… for evidence? If he is the Shadow’s heir, he would recognize this and- uhm… yeah.” The kwami trailed off.

Marinette offered the butterfly kwami a genuine, albeit, a bit sad-looking, smile.

“Thank you, Nooroo. I’ll hold on to it for now.” The guardian says, grabbing the piece of jewelry.

It was a deceptively fragile-looking thing. A thin, dainty chain that replicated a serpent in appearance and held one singular, very important pendant. She ran her hand over the intricate metalwork. Taking a slow, steady breath, Marinette brought the piece of jewelry up, draping it around her neck in its proper place. The pendant fell into place at the hollow of her throat as the clasp, the snake's fangs bit her finger, drawing blood to the surface.

In the seconds after the clasp bit her, the silver chain came alive, and like the serpent it appeared to be, it coiled its body into a tight circle, securing the choker in place. And just as the dainty silver chain had come alive, it turned still, content to rest in its rightful place. The bluenette's hand rested lightly on top of the pendant before thinking better of it, removing her hand and deciding to pay the pendent no more mind, Marinette walked back out of her room to go make breakfast.

The dorm was quiet aside from the eventual sound of one of the doors from the hallway opening. Light footsteps walked farther away, towards the bathroom at the hallway's end. The bathroom door creeks. There's a pause, or perhaps it wasn't a pause, but the actual effort put into making himself as silent as possible.

"Breakfast is ready if you like Chausson aux Pommes. If not, you can fend for yourself." Marinette informs her roommate the moment he stepped out of the hall.

"You took a shower this morning." Damian pointed out as one of his hands rested on a hidden weapon.

"I did." Marinette agreed, pulling the tray of pastries out of the oven. "What of it?" She inquires, setting the food on top of the stove.

His hesitation was all the confirmation Marinette needed.

"I left the bathroom as clean as it had been when I entered. Well- minus the steam of course." The bluenette challenges with a raised eyebrow.

Blue eyes met green, and for a moment, time froze creating their own little bubble, but all too soon the bubble broke and time resumed. A blade flew straight at Marinette only for it to stop mid-air, being snatched up by a wave of her hand, creating the image of her having caught the blade at a lightning-fast speed.

"Really?" Marinette asked unimpressed. "That was a little rude, but I'm assuming based on your reaction that your name isn't a coincidence, and you are that Al Ghul."

"Tch, what do you want?" Damian demanded more than asked. "Did my mother send you?" He inquired with a scowl. A glare was pointedly sent in her direction.

"Merde, now I'll have to stop by the store to pick up berries for Trixx" The bluenette huffed, Turing over the blade in her hand. A movement that caught Damian's full attention.

"No your mother didn't send me, I've never even met the woman, and what I want is to have a normal school year for once in my life," Marinette mumbled, placing the blade on top of the counter, she slid it over to the green-eyed boy.

Damian grabbed the weapon immediately, rounding the island, he pinned Marinette in place with a blade to her throat.

"Are all assassins like this? Attack first, question later? Or I guess it would be, ask questions never since the person would be dead." The bluenette mused.

"I won't ask again. Who sent you?" Damian growled impatiently, pressing the blade harder against her skin. Which to his surprise didn’t draw any blood.

"Do you recognize my pendant?" Marinette asked in place of an answer. She watched as green eyes trail away from her face and down to her necklace.

At first, there was nothing, no recognition, but the intricate pattern held his attention in the way that something you once knew a long time ago would. A flash of an old memory surfacing in his mind causes the former assassin to lower his blade from her throat, not yet releasing his hold on her.

"The order? What business do they have with me? I'm no longer a part of the league." Damian states with narrowed eyes.

"No business at all. Simply my unusual luck deciding to mess with my new school year. Like I said before, I'm just here for a normal school year after the hell that was Lycée in Paris." Marinette shrugged as best as she could.

The sound of a tea kettle whistling filled the air interrupting their conversation.

The former assassin loosened his hold, and hesitantly he let the guardian step away from him and over to the stove. She turned it off and opened the lid to the kettle, allowing the water to cool for a minute or two.

“Are you planning to stand there all day and starve, or are you going to join me for breakfast?” Marinette inquired with a curious tilt of her head.

Damian scoffed, rolling his eyes, but nevertheless, he took a seat at the kitchen island. The bluenette nodded her head, pleased with his decision. She turned back to the tea kettle, added the tea leaves to the strainer, replaced the lid, and left them to steep.

“So what brings you here, Mr. I'm not part of the league?” Marinette asked, leaning back on the counter. Blue eyes once again met green.

“What are you doing outside of France with Hawkmoth active?” Damian questioned in return, causing blue eyes to look away.

“He isn’t,” Marinette answered, turning back around as she moved the kettle onto a serving tray.

“What do you mean he isn’t? If he was apprehended the Justice League would have been informed.” The former assassin frowned.

“Who would have informed them? Ladybug? Chat Noir?” The guardian asked sarcastically, plating the Chausson aux Pommes, she moved them onto the tray with the tea.

“Look, there are no mircauli active. None. If you wish to inform someone, be my guest, but there are no and will be no active miraculi. Not of a while…” The bluenette trailed off, placing the tray of tea and pastries on the island, she takes a seat beside the former assassin.

“And who are you to make that decision?” Damian inquired as the guardian put a silver plate and teacup in front of each of them, pouring the steaming liquid into both cups and placing a few pastries upon their plates.

“Me? Oh, I’m just the unwilling heir to an ancient organization and guardian of a box full of gods.” Marinette shrugged, taking a sip of her tea. “Now would you like to continue this conversation about my, and subsequently, your, heritage, which would lead us to the next conversation about co-existing rules, or would you like to eat while everything is still hot and then talk?” She asked, placing her tea down to pick up her pastry.

“I see you’re not one to sugarcoat things either,” Damian noted with an arched brow, wrapping a hand around the warm cup, his eyes trailing back to the herbal liquid with suspicion.

“It’s not poisoned, you know.” Marinette pointed out. “It would one, mean I just drank poison, and I’m not stupid enough to do that, antidote waiting on standby or not. Two, it would ruin my normal school year before it even started. And three, it would be against our people’s neutrality agreement.” The bluenette lists, raising a finger with every point made.

“And I’m supposed to believe that you would abide by that old agreement?” Damian questioned in disbelief.

“Oh, you don’t have to believe anything. That’s the beauty of blood pacts. They can’t be broken, knowingly or not.” Marinette states, gesturing to the blade and where it had somehow not cut her neck.

"My grandfather didn't make his deals based on trust, he made it based on his knowledge of unbreakable magic pacts." The bluenette shrugged, grabbing her cup, she took another sip of the herbal liquid.

“What happened to your accent?” Damian questioned curiously. She had a heavy French accent before, but now, it sounded different. Her words were pronounced the slightest bit off. She still had an accent, but now Damian couldn’t place where it was from. It was as if a single note was out of tone, making it stand out amongst any voice he had ever heard before.

“The food’s getting cold.” The bluenette pointed out as if Damian hadn't said anything at all, blue eyes catching green for just a moment. The corners of her eyes crinkled in amusement.

With a sigh, he lifted the cup to his lips. “We’ll eat, then talk.” The former assassin decides before finally taking a sip.

The two heirs ate their breakfast in silence. Not a comfortable silence, but also not an uncomfortable silence. It was simply, silence. And when they finished eating, the two got up from their seats, brought their dishes to the sink, and began cleaning up.

“... you never answered what you’re doing here Al Ghul? From what I’ve heard, you’re the current Robin, and I really can’t imagine you sitting in one place for an entire school year. At least not at a high security, practically close campus where you can’t leave for patrols or missions.” Marinette comments, placing the dry dish down to pick up a newly washed one out of the dish rack.

“This dormitory is outside of the main campus, meaning it would be child’s play to leave whenever I so desired, and I would be more than capable of acting as Robin without compromising my studies.” Damian scoffed.

The bluenette hummed, laying the rag over the dishrack to dry.

“So you were benched then?” The guardian mused, leaning back against the counter.

“It’s none of your concern, Dupain-Cheng.”

“Good thing I’m not concerned. I’m merely curious, and because we have to live together for a while, I’ve deemed this information important for me to be aware of.” Marinette states, crossing her arms over her chest.

More silence filled the room, and once again, it was neither awkward nor comforting. The longer the silence stretched out, the more apparent it became that it didn’t lean one way or the other. There was no comfort provided by the presence of someone who was technically an ally, and there was no unease at the presence of a stranger.

“The co-existing rules, what are yours?" Damian eventually asked instead of answering her question.

"Mm, I have a few main ones, like staying out of my personal space unless I allow you there. Clean up after yourself, and no inviting people over." Marinette states lazily. "We'll need to figure out food and chore arrangements too, but those are my main rules."

"Am I correct to believe that these rules go both ways" The former assassin inquired, receiving a nod of agreement from the bluenette.

"Then I will be expecting you to abide by these rules as well. They are adequate for the time being, however, I reserve the right to alter or add to our current three rules." Damian states impassively.

"So long as we discuss any new rules before they are created. I won’t have a problem with that." Marinette agreed.

When they moved on to food arrangements, Damian was forced to explain that he didn’t know how to cook. Marinette had raised an eyebrow at the former assassin but didn’t say a word about why he would be lacking such a basic skill. Instead, she told Damian that he either needed to learn, or he would be buying take-out food whenever it was his turn to take care of meals. He had agreed but informed the bluenette that the last time he had cooked, it ended with him being banned from the kitchen at home. Marinette had huffed out a tired breath before agreeing to teach the former assassin how to cook so they wouldn’t be stuck with take-out food for half of the school year.

At some point during this conversation, Marinette had gone to her room to retrieve a notebook and pen to help keep them organized.

"Where'd your necklace go?" Damian asked with a raised brow.

"I took it off."

"Why?"

"Because wearing it means I'm presenting myself as the Crowned High Priestess to the Order of Guardians, and while the title is helpful in some cases, I'm not a fan of wearing it." The bluenette explained, earning a nod of understanding from her new roommate, and the topic was dropped.

The two heirs went back to discussing their schedules and ended up writing them down in order to figure out who would be cooking when, and to their surprise, a good majority of their classes were with each other.

“Huh. I had originally thought that one of us would have had to make the meal and store it for the other due to my night classes. Both of us having class at the same time as each other will make meals more convenient at the very least. At the worst, we’ll be sick of each other from nearly twenty hours of constant co-existing.” Marinette pointed out, earning a glare from her roommate.

It was decided that Sunday, Tuesday, and Friday would be Marinette’s days to cook. Monday, Thursday, and Saturday were Damian’s days, while Wednesday was either leftovers or fend for yourself. Chores were assigned using the simple rule of, if you make a mess, clean it up, and, if you see something’s wrong, fix it.

With their rules established, the two heirs separated to continue going about their day in their individual rooms. In the first few weeks of co-existing in general, the two kept to themselves, staying tucked away in their rooms unless otherwise necessary. They interacted mainly during meal times, where a majority of Marinette’s entertainment came from watching the former assassin fail at simple cooking tasks.

“Okay, okay, stop. This is just sad.” The bluenette huffed in amusement, leaving the safety of her barstool, she joined him in the kitchen, walking over to the sink.

“You’re going to need a lot more seasoning than that,” Marinette informs him while drying off her freshly washed hands and snapping on a pair of gloves.

“The recipe says-” Damian began, which led to a half-hour debate about when you should and should not follow recipes, and when it was better to deviate from what the text says. Marinette explains that the rules for cooking are a lot more forgiving than the rules for baking, causing Damian to ask what the point of the rules was if they were just going to be broken.

“Some people just like things a certain way. For example, back in my home village, the food is rich and flavorful without being heavy and dense, but here in America, most of the flavors are barely there, the foods oily, or it's an imitation of a different culture's foods.” Marinette explained, clicking the stove buttons over to off.

She turned to grab the plates only for Damian to already be holding them in her direction, waiting for the bluenette to take them.

"Thank you." Marinette hummed, grabbing the plates.

Luckily for the two heirs, Damian was fast at learning his way around the kitchen. It was obvious that his lack of cooking skills wasn’t from a lack of trying, but more so from a lack of being taught. By the end of their first month of co-existing, he was proficient enough with cooking that Marinette was more so supervising than actually helping with meals. He wasn’t at the level where he could cook any meal he wanted without a recipe yet but for half a month of learning, Damian had about six different dishes where he only needed the recipe cards as a reminder of the listed ingredients and measurements.

Before they knew it, it was the first day of school and they now had to attend their new classes.

It was definitely interesting to be in close quarters with the same person every day of the week. Except, unlike in the dorm where they could hide away in their separate rooms, they could no longer do that during school hours. Now, the two heirs were constantly in the same enclosed space with each other, with multiple other humans surrounding them, for multiple hours of the week.

On the bright side, the classes they had at night were quieter than the ones they had during the day. The people in the nighttime tended to be a lot quieter and less nosey than the daytime students. It was to the point that some days when Damian and Marinette got back to the dorm after their morning classes, neither of them would say a word to each other for hours unless it was truly necessary.

Their reluctance to speak along with living in the same dorm apartment for a little over three months had the unique side effect of being able to read each other’s body langue and react to it automatically. When they did speak to each other, it was usually in the quiet of night over topics that had to be put into words for the other to understand and wasn’t something they had talked about before.

“Are we ever going to put something there?” Marinette inquired, staring at the large empty area in the entranceway, holding her warm cup of tea to her chest as if it would magically spread its warmth through her chilled bones.

“What do you purpose we put there?” Damian asked in response, earning a shrug from the bluenette.

They sat in silence, enjoying their last few moments of peace before they had to leave their dorm and head to class.

When the time came, Marinette washed out her cup, wordlessly grabbing Damian’s from his hand and doing the same, placing both washed cups onto the dish rack to dry. The former assassin slipped on his shoes, then tossed the guardian her coat and scarf before leaving the dorm. He walked down the hallway, arrived at the elevator, pressed the button, then waited for the machine to arrive. The bluenette appeared at his side a few seconds before the doors opened, and they both stepped inside.

Walking from their dorm apartment to class wasn’t as quiet as it normally was. More whispers and gossip were filling the air as students walked by. A few of them glanced at Damian then went back to whispering among their friends. The class was the same as usual if you were to ignore the other students speaking, which Damian and Marinette already did on a regular basis anyway.

The class ended and one brave soul got up, abandoning her stuff at her seat, and walked to the back of the classroom where the two heirs had just finished packing up and were about to leave.

“You’re Damian Wayne, right?” The girl questioned, earning an unimpressed raised brow from the former assassin.

“It’s just that my friend mentioned hearing you went here and what classes you were in, and I realized that you were in my class, so I just had to see if it was true for myself, ya know? I mean, I can’t believe I didn’t recogni-”

“Shut up,” Damian commanded, cutting off the girl’s rambling as he pushed past her to the front of the classroom.

“Hey! You can’t speak to her like that!” One guy yelled out, grabbing the back of Damian’s shirt.

In a quick set of movements the guy who had grabbed the former assassin was pinned to a desk with his arm held at an angle where the smallest movement could snap the bone like a toothpick.

There were a few more outcries from the surrounding students but none of them stepped forward, having heard what the girl had said earlier.

“Al Ghul, we’re going to be late for our next class,” Marinette reminded the former assassin in French rather than English as she walked up to him. Making sure to keep her hand within his line of sight, she gently tugged on the edge of his long sleeve shirt. The switch in language caused a collective lag in the rest of their classmates' brains.

The former assassin tsked, releasing the guy with a shove causing a loud pop of a joint dislocating and a cry to be heard.

“Come on.” The bluenette urged switching back to English, she continues walking towards the door with the fabric of his shirt fisted in her hand.

They didn’t end up heading to class, instead, Marinette takes them to one of the empty school gymnasiums and rolls out one of the sparring mats. Removing her bag, coat, scarf, and shoes, Marinette stepped onto the mat, gesturing for him to do the same. He does, eventually, do as instructed, with some reluctance and a huff of disinterest.

Marinette wastes no time at all, pivoting on one foot she lands a solid kick to his chest, knocking the wind right out of him. Damian stumbles but recovers quickly, grabbing onto her foot, he swipes the other out from under her. The bluenette catches herself in a roll, hooking the leg that had been caught, around the former assassin, dragging him down to the ground with her.

The spar continues until one of them pins the other and they can’t escape, being forced to tap out. In this case, the spar continued until Damian finally conceded and stopped struggling against the bluenette.

“Feeling better?” Marinette asked with heaving lungs, taking in deep uneven breaths.

“I thought we weren't able to harm each other?” Damian asked in place of answering her. His voice sounded just as breathless as Marinett's own.

“We can’t.” The bluenette agreed, rolling off of the former assassin to lay beside him on the floor like a starfish. “You won’t find a single bruise on you.”

Damian huffed but didn’t argue the point any further. Instead, he used their current lack of conversation to take in some much-needed deep, calming breaths.

“...we should get a sparing mat for our dorm.” Damian decides, after a few moments of silence.

“Alright.” The guardian agrees, letting them fall back into the comfortable quiet where only their heavy breathing and beating hearts could be heard.

They have to get up eventually, Damian helping to pull Marinette to her feet only for her to stumble and crash into his chest.

"Oof- sorry, I stood up too fast." The bluenette apologized, straightening herself to stand on her own.

Damian hummed but didn’t otherwise acknowledge that she had said or done anything as he walked away to gather his stuff. Marinette turned away from her roommate and did the same thing, gathering her extra layers, her school bag, and slipping her shoes back on. The bluenette then walked over to where Damian was waiting by the doorway. She blinks in surprise when the former assassin grabs her by the wrist and starts walking back to the dorms.

It was unusual for them to actually touch one another for any longer than a few passing moments. It was even more so for Damian to be the one initiating the physical contact, and for it to not be in a violent way. Thinking it best not to make a big deal out of something as unimportant as the former assassin grabbing her wrist, Marinette allowed herself to be led back to their dorm, quietly staying at Damian’s side.

They ordered a few things for the dorm the next morning and continued with the school day just like usual. There were still whispers from gossiping students, but the teachers didn't say anything about the incident from yesterday, only sparing a glance at Damian as he walked to his seat. A few days later, when everything arrived at their dorm they began putting it together.

"Are you still okay with me calling you Al Ghul with everyone else calling you Wayne now?" Marinette asked, tearing off a new piece of black electric tape.

"That is who I introduced myself as." The former assassin said with a frown.

"Then why don't you correct others when they call you Wayne instead of Al Ghul?" The bluenette questioned curiously.

"Leave it be, Dupain-Cheng." Damian snapped, indicating that he didn't like their current topic; they should end that topic there.

"...it was the dean's daughter by the way," Marinette mentioned off-handedly in an attempt to steer the conversation into safe territory. This earned a glance and a raised questioning eyebrow from Damian.

"The one who essentially told the whole school that your last name is Wayne and you go to this college. It was the dean's daughter." The bluenette explained, double-checking that the mat was now firmly secured to the flooring.

"You know that how exactly?" Damian inquired skeptically.

"...I have enhanced hearing on occasion," Marinette mumbled, leaving the living room turned-trained area in favor of making herself some tea in the kitchen. The topic of Damian’s preferred last name and Marinette’s occasional metahuman abilities was forgotten for the time being.

Once the sparring mats were set up, using them became just another part of their day. The entryway living room area that had once been completely empty now served as Marinette and Damian’s practice and training area.

They trained with different types of weapons, sparring against each other, and if only one of them knows how to use it, then they teach the other one. When they aren't using weapons they'll spar without them, working on their techniques, trying to make their movements as fluid as possible.

The area is also used for weight lifting and endurance, stretching, and meditating. The last of which, Marinette had to walk Damian through how to do it properly and to say the former assassin was annoyed would be a bit of an understatement.

"I don't see what's wrong with my way of meditating. It works perfectly fine for the job that's intended." Damian scoffed, eyeing every movement the bluenette's hand made as she carefully rearranged his body to sit how she wanted it to.

"What's wrong with it, is that you're just pushing all of the negative energy out and not taking any in. To properly meditate you need to be doing both simultaneously." Marinette informs him only to receive an unimpressed huff for her troubles.

Damian closed his eyes, breathing in slowly through his core, and exhaling just as slowly and steadily. He pushed away every negative thought, allowing his mind a moment to be empty, unthinking, for the time being.

"Al Ghul," the bluenette begins, interrupting his umpteenth attempt at meditating properly.

"Open your eyes and look at me." She instructed sitting cross-legged a few inches in front of Damian, waiting for his cooperation.

"Look at me." The guardian repeated in a softer tone, watching as the former assassin's eyes opened at the gentle command.

Green eyes meet blue ones, and for the second time since the two heirs meet, time seemed to freeze, creating their own little bubble. A pause in time to allow one heir to stare into the other's soul and vice versa.

Her eyes had a glossy sheen to them. Not quite watery enough where she always appeared to be on the brink of tears, but to the point that her eyes look like water itself. The light reflected little glimpses of silver across the ocean as if it was the moon shining its light over a body of water.

Damian takes in another breath cleaning off his paintbrush. He stepped away from his painting to take a better look. The entire thing was made from different shades of blue. Even the areas one would assume white or black had been used were painted in blue, and blue alone.

A knock on his door broke Damian away from where he stood staring at his painting. Walking over to the door, he opened it, revealing, unsurprisingly, his roommate on the other side.

"Are you heading home for break or staying here?" Marinette asked without waiting for his usual questioning eyebrow raise.

"Why do you need to know?" Damian asked in response, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Because I need to go shopping, and what I plan to get varies between having one mouth to feed and having two mouths to feed," Marinette answered pointedly, earning a huff from the former assassin.

"You're not going home for break?" Damian questioned curiously, leaning his weight against the doorframe.

"Nope. Thanksgiving is an American thing." The bluenette shrugged.

"And? It's still a school break. You can do as you please with the time off." Damian reminded her.

"Mmhm, well, I'm definitely not going back to Paris, but I'll think about visiting home for a little while. Now stop sidetracking the conversation and say whether you're staying or leaving." Marinette states with narrowed eyes.

"I…have yet to decide." Damian eventually admits, averting his eyes away from her bright blue ones.

"That's okay. You still have a day or two to decide. In the meantime, why don't we go spar." The bluenette suggested, offering her hand out to the former assassin, waiting for his response. When Damian rolled his eyes and didn't snap at her, Marinette grabbed his shirt sleeve and pulled Damian out of his room and down the hall.

They sparred with each other for who knows how long; until they were both out of breath, laying on the mats. A forearm rested over Damian’s eyes while Marinette just stared at the ceiling.

"You should go home, even just for an hour or two," Marinette recommends, sounding as if she had just run a marathon.

"No." Damian groaned, letting his arm drop from his face down to the mat with a solid thump sound.

"Because you're still mad at them?" Marinette inquired, only to receive a loud smack of a hand hitting the mat in warning from the former assassin.

"Fine, how 'bout another round?" Marinette asked, pushing herself to sit up on the mat, and glancing over at Damian. "Maybe you'll finally be able to beat me." The bluenette jokes, earning another groan from the other heir as he sat up on the mat with a shake of his head.

"The fact that you can best a highly trained assassin during every one of our spars is concerning," Damian states plainly as he stood up and moved over to the kitchen.

"You're a highly trained former assassin, Al Ghul." Marinette reminded him, following Damian into the kitchen. "I mean, sure you're still a vigilante, but you hold back too much in your attempts to be less lethal. You weren't trained in incapacitation and capture. You were trained in elimination and maybe information gathering." The bluenette explained, taking the glass of water the former assassin was offering her.

"You're saying I should stop holding back." Damian voiced in confusion, lowering his glass away from his lips.

"Yes and no." The bluenette hummed. "I'm saying that you need to learn how to properly do the task at hand. You need to forget what you were taught as an assassin and relearn what is needed to be a vigilante." Marinette informed him, taking another drink from her cup.

"You are aware that I was already trained to be a vigilante." Damian pointed out.

"While that might be true, the person teaching you was clearly training you on how to use less lethal force, and not how to properly fight as a vigilante." Marinette countered, setting her glass down

"So what, I wasn't taught anything but how to pull my punches? If that's so then who in their right mind would teach me to actually fight? You?" Damian scoffed with a roll of his eyes.

"Sure. We already spar and teach each other weapons. We could easily add in proper vigilante training." Marinette shrugged, washing out her now empty glass before placing it in the dish rack.

"However…" the bluenette trailed off with a slight upturn of her lips.

"What do you want?" The former assassin states more so than asks.

"Go home for Thanksgiving day. You can ignore your family and hide out in your room all you like, but you have to stay the whole day and eat with everyone." Marinette instructed, ignoring the glare being sent her way. "You can leave as soon as the clock strikes midnight if you want. I'll even pick you up on my bike so they won't know you're leaving till you're gone." The bluenette offered.

Blue eyes met green with a glint of amusement.

"Come on Al Ghul, it's your family event and I already let you drag your feet for three hours. It's past time to go." Marinette called from where she was leaning against the doorway.

"I can't be late if the only one expecting me is Pennyworth." The former assassin snarked, meeting the bluenette at the door.

Marinette raised a challenging brow, jingling her keys as her roommate slipped on his shoes.

"Why I ever agreed to this I will never know." Damian sighed.

"I think it had something to do with not wanting to continue getting your ass kicked by someone almost a foot shorter than you." Marinette reminded him with a poorly concealed, small but genuine, smile as she tossed him a protective jacket.

"Dupain-Cheng," Damian calls in warning while the bluenette ignores him and turns away, walking through the doorway.

"Al Ghul." Came Marinette’s answering call as she turned around, walking backward down the hall. Her hands clasped behind her back, keys clinking together with each step.

Damian rolled his eyes, grabbing his unused set of house keys before trailing after his roommate and her taunting key jingles until they reached the elevator. The two heirs waited patiently for the machine to reach their floor, stepped inside, waited for it to reach the ground floor, and stepped out. They made their way to the underground student parking garage a little ways away from their specific dormitory, and over to a sleek, matte black motorcycle.

"To review, you can either hide away or hang out with your family, but you have to eat with them, and I'll pick you up at twelve o'clock midnight." Marinette reminds her roommate, handing him a helmet from one of the storage bags.

"Those are the terms we agreed upon," Damian states plainly, putting the helmet on and sliding the face shield into place.

"Alright, let's go." The bluenette huffed, waiting for her roommate to climb onto the bike.

With both heirs situated on the motorcycle, Marinette revved the engine and they were off, racing out of the garage and down the streets. A few traffic laws were ignored in favor of speeding over to the other side of the city. Although, there was nothing anyone could prove seeing as the guardian's magic ran interference, providing anonymity on any camera feed where they should have been caught. The wind whistled as their hearts raced with the adrenaline rush of weaving through traffic at such high speeds in comparison to their usual day-to-day activities in college.

They ended up taking a few detours around the city, delaying their arrival by a few minutes, not that either heir minded. It was as if they hadn’t sped around at a speed that was definitely over the legal limit when they eventually arrived at the gate of Wayne manor. Damian removed one of his hands from around Marinette’s waist to reach into his pocket, clicking the entrance key attached to his house keys as the bluenette slowed the motorcycle's approach. The speed reduction allowed the gate time to open, letting the bike through without the need to come to a complete stop.

Marinette drove the bike down the long pathway past the gate and around the large circular fountain. She circled the old water structure before coming to a stop, shutting off the engine in front of the manor’s front steps.

“Go on. I’ll pick you up at midnight.” Marinette says, gesturing at the door nonchalantly only to suck in a quiet but sharp breath in response to the former assassin tightening his grip on her waist.

“I’ll be holding you to that. Don’t be late, Dupain-Cheng.” The other heir hissed with no real heat behind it, releasing his hold on Marinette as he climbed off of the bike. Damian removed his helmet, tossing it to the bluenette, who caught it easily and put it away in one of the storage bags.

“Oh look, someone’s at the door.” Marinette pointed out with, what was obviously, a fake surprised gasp before revving the engine of her bike and zooming away from the manor, leaving Damian stranded.

“Hey, Dames! I thought you weren’t coming?” Jon greeted, grinning as the former assassin made his way up the front steps.

“I’m here, am I not?” Damian responded, walking past the half-Kryptonian and into the foyer.

“Yeah, you’re here, but who dropped you off?” Jon asked, only to be ignored by the former assassin who was walking away from him.

“Hey! Wait up Dames!” The half alien called out, following his younger friend into the dining hall where the rest of their families were gathered, serving their food and pouring drinks.

For a moment, as the former assassin walked into the room, everyone seemed to pause, chancing a glance at the newcomer. A majority of them looked surprised by the appearance of Bruce’s youngest son, while a few of them seemed unbothered as if they had already known that he was going to show up.

"Uncle Dami!" Mar'i called out excitedly, predictably tackling Damian into a koala hug. "Dad said you weren't gonna be here, but I said you had to because it’s thanksgiving time and I was right!” The half-Tamaranean laughed in triumph.

“Mar’i, come along little bumgorf. You may play with little D after you have eaten.” Kor’i instructs, ushering the little half alien to her seat at the dining table.

“Awww, but Uncle Dami only just got here!” Mar’i whined, releasing her grip she returned her feet to the floor, walking over to take her seat as Mar’i’s mother placed the half Tamaranean’s plate in front of her.

“And it is only noon. You will have plenty of time to play with little D after you have eaten. Alright, little bumgorf?” Kor’i reminded her, receiving a pout from Mar’i but a nod of the half Tamaranean’s head nonetheless.

“I am pleased you made it little D. Mar’i was upset upon hearing that you might not be coming for the thanks of givings.” The Tamaranean woman explained with a smile, ruffling his hair before going back to grab her own dish of food for lunch.

Damian scowled, fixing his hair. He glared at his oldest brother, taking in a deep breath, even, breath, calming his already buzzing nerves. Something told the former assassin that this was going to be a long day.

By the time midnight rolled around, Damian had to carefully extract himself from a rather chaotic game of monopoly that was more swearing than actual negotiation and business deals.

“Where’re you heading?” Connor asked from where he had settled on an armchair away from the chaotic game fighting; next to the doorway.

“Where do you think?” Was the former assassin's sarcastic response as he slipped on his shoes and jacket.

“I think you’re leaving with that motorcyclist that just pulled up,” Connor answered honestly with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Then you aren’t as idiotic as you look.” Damian scoffed walking into the foyer, he opened the front door, ignoring the questioning calls from the family members that had followed him out of the living room.

“You’re late.” The former assassin states, walking up to the motorcyclist's side.

“It’s eleven fifty-nine. I’m technically early.” The bike rider pointed out jokingly, tossing a helmet to Damian that he caught with ease.

“Let’s go.” The assassin heir ordered, climbing onto the back of the bike, and off they went with a rev of the motorcyclist’s engine, without so much as a glance back at the family members that now stood in the manor entryway from where they had been investigating what the youngest Wayne had been up to.

The manor faded into the distance as the two roommates sped through the city, making their way back to their college dormitory, or more specifically, the parking garage of their college dormitory. The bluenette parked her bike in the same spot she always does, shutting off the engine.

“You didn’t tell them that you weren’t spending the night, did you?” Marinette asked, removing her helmet, she looked backward, over her shoulder, as she stayed straddling the seat.

“It was none of their business, so why would I?” The former assassin scoffed, removing his own helmet and placing it in the appropriate storage bag. He did the same for the bluenette’s helmet, taking it from her hands, he climbed off her bike and put it away.

“You don’t. It would have just kept your overly paranoid family from worrying.” Marinette shrugged and climbed off her bike.

“Come on. We still have to grab our stuff from the dorm before heading out.” Marinette reminded her roommate, only to receive a roll of the eyes from him.

“I aware, Dupain-Cheng.”

“Then let’s go.” Marinette hurried, grabbing onto the edge of Damian’s sleeve, having made sure to have kept her hand within his line of sight. The bluenette tugged on the fabric as she began to walk away from the bike. The former assassin followed, falling into step with her, walking side by side as the two made their way back to their dorm room.

They walked into the dormitory, took the elevator up to the seventh floor, and walked down the hallway to the door labeled eight-three-one. Damian unlocked the door, pushing it open, he allowed Marinette to walk in first, following right behind her into their dorm. The two heirs grabbed their bags from where they had been left in Marinette’s and Damian's separate rooms, meeting back up in the middle of the hall, right outside both of their rooms.

“You have everything I told you to pack, Al Ghul?” The bluenette asked, taking out a dark dusky pink marble that had a slight glow to it.

“Of course I do.” The former assassin scoffed with a roll of his eyes.

Blue eyes narrowed at her roommate, looking him over as if to double-check that he had everything without looking in his bag.

"No, you don't. Here." Marinette says, pulling out a black leather cord choker that holds a single metal bead. "It'll translate the langue into one you'll understand." She explains, handing it over to the former assassin and waiting for it to be put on.

"You're wearing that necklace." Damian pointed out, sparing a glance at the sliver serpent and pendant that decorated her neck.

"We are staying at the temple." The bluenette reminded him, grabbing Damian's sleeve once he was done putting on the choker.

“Now we can go,” Marinette muttered under her breath, dropping the marble on the floor. She stomped on it the second the marble hit the floor.

One moment they were in the hallway of their dorm room, the next, they were standing outside a large decorative yet sturdy and protective gate.

“We aren't in Kansas anymore, Al Ghul,” Marinette joked, pushing the gates open with what was definitely an inhuman amount of strength. “Welcome to the Order of Guardians.” The bluenette says, gesturing for them to keep walking.

The Order was both exactly what he expected and nothing like he had thought it would be. The buildings, clothes, accessories, and food were all clearly of Asian descent, but from which specific area was hard to pick out. If Damian were to take a guess he would probably say that this village took its culture from a little of everywhere that surrounds it. It’s a large gated village that surrounded a large temple. There were a few smaller temples as well, scattered around the village, but that wasn’t where the two heirs were going. They were heading straight for the main temple.

Villagers that the two heirs passed on their way to the main temple were whispering among themselves. A few recognized the bluenette for who she was and bowed their heads when she walked by. Others pointed out their very obvious outside clothing, wondering what brought the outsides or who let them inside the village.

“High Priestess?” One of the guards standing outside the main temple door greeted them questioningly.

The bluenette tilted her head to the side curiously, once again grabbing onto her roommate’s sleeve.

“Sheng, I wasn’t aware that you finished your training.” Marinette greeted in return, bowing her head ever so slightly.

“That’s because I just graduated, today’s my first da-” The first guard was cut off by an elbow to his side from the second guard that had been standing on the other side of the doorway. “err I mean, greetings High Priestess, I shall alert the elders of your arrival.” Sheng greeted her properly, ducking inside the temple to do what he said he would.

The second guard chuckled.

“Forgive him, High Priestess. He still has a lot to learn.”

“I’m not a fan of formality and you know it, Qin.” The bluenette huffed. “While it is nice to see the both of you, I do have to go greet the elders and introduce my guest,” Marinette says, tugging on said guest’s sleeve.

“Of course, High Priestess, pardon the interruption.” The older guard, Qin, apologized with a fist over his heart and a bow of his head.

Marinette sighed and led Damian into the temple.

“Is that how I should expect most interactions, here, to go?” The former assassin asked, glancing at the bluenette.

“Oh no.” Marinette snorts. “It gets worse.” She says without any further explanation, guiding them through the maze that was the temple halls.

Eventually, they come to a stop outside a large door that had two guards standing on each side. All four guards bowed with a fist placed over their hearts.

“I hope you remember your manors from your time with the Shadows, Al Ghul,” Marinette mumbled under her breath, just loud enough for Damian to hear as one of the two closer guards pushed the door open, holding it to allow the two heirs through.

The room on the other side of the door held a long, tall table with all nine elders sitting in their designated spots. Each elder looked between the two as they entered the room and the guard closed the door behind them.

“High Priestess, it is an honor and a surprise to have you with us this afternoon.” The elder in the center of the long table greeted her with a bow of his head, and the other elders followed suit, bowing their heads.

“Junior Elders Lu, Zen, Lei, Zhao, Fu, Tao. Elders Fang, Tang, and High Elder Cheng.” Marinette greeted with a bow of her head. “I thank you for your greetings and wish you Tikki’s blessings and Plaggs mercies.” The bluenette offered, raising her head.

“And we thank you for your kindness, High Priestess.” The elder that sat in the center of the table, High Elder Cheng, said in return. “How long will your visit be?”

“My guest and I will be staying in the temple until noon this coming Monday,” Marinette answered, causing attention to shift to her roommate.

“And who is this guest of yours, High Priestess?” High Elder Cheng questioned with a raised brow.

“This is Damian Al Ghul,” Marinette introduced, pleased with the slight head bow that the former assassin was willing to offer.

“Al Ghul, you say.” High Elder Cheng repeated with an impassive facial expression.

“I assure you High Elder Cheng, while I am that Al Ghul, I don’t intend to cause any trouble,” Damian explains easily, unbothered by the skeptical looks the other elders were giving him.

“...well, so long as you aren’t causing trouble for the order, we take no issue with your being here, Al Ghul.” High Elder Cheng decides, sending a look to the one or two other elders that looked like they wanted to protest. “Please, enjoy your stay.”

With that, the two heirs took their leave from the room full of elders. Marinette used the next three days to run Damian through all of the basics. She would make him restart whatever lesson they were working on if he used a move or technique outside of the skill set Marinette taught him.

While he was making progress, it was slow and repetitive with how often they would have to restart from the beginning. The few breaks that the two heirs were forced to take for meals, sleep, and the two lotus ceremonies on Saturday and Monday were most likely the thing keeping the former assassin from snapping at the guardian for making him restart. Which, to be fair, was actually his own fault and Damian knew it, even if he didn’t want to admit it out loud.

A few hours after Monday’s lotus ceremony it became noon, meaning it was time for them to go back to school. If Marinette and Damian were lucky, then they would end up falling asleep as soon as they got back to their dorm, maybe getting six or seven hours of sleep before they actually had to go to class.

It was midnight when the two heirs arrived back in their dorm room. They took turns using the bathroom to shower and brush their teeth, changing into pajama clothes, and attempting to sleep. As it turned out, lucky they were not. Neither of them ended up falling asleep, tossing and turning in their beds, unable to fall asleep. Instead, the two heirs ended up in the kitchen, a kettle of water had been set on the stove for tea, and now they sat at the kitchen island, waiting for it to boil.

“So, how did you like staying at the temple?” The bluenette asked, not bothering to lift her head up from where it rested on her crossed arms that lay on top of the counter.

“Small talk, really? That’s unlike you, Dupain-Cheng.”

“And yet, here I am doing it, so answer my question.” Marinette huffed, rolling her head to the side so she could glare at Damian.

“It wasn’t horrible.” The former assassin answered halfheartedly.

“Al Ghul.” Marinette groaned.

“What?”

“Just answer the question.” the bluenette huffed.

“I did.” Damian pointed out with a smirk, earning another glare.

“Fine.” The former assassin conceded. “I disliked the way everyone would act around you. It reminded me too much of how people from the league would act around my grandfather, mother, and I.” Damian shrugged. “Otherwise it was alright. The foods and drinks were good, the clothes were comfortable and well made, although, the large number of accessories and jewels they would put you in for the ceremonies seemed a bit much,” he admitted.

“Mmm, yeah I agree about the accessories, but I can’t really complain. Most, if not all of the things that they decorate me with are what’s expected of the crowned High Priest or Priestess to wear, although, the Priestesses usually end up with more decorations and feminine outfits than the Priests, who get boxier, more masculine outfits.” Marinette explained, only to be interrupted by the screech of the tea kettle.

They do end up falling asleep eventually. It just so happens that they fall asleep in their third class, not during the hours they spent talking about the annoyances of clothing that was chosen for them, and the way that they had to act and talk as the heir of their respective organization. In all honesty, a majority of the time before school was spent talking about what their families expected of them for being born to their specific bloodlines, and how exhausting it all was.

No one bothered to wake the two sleeping students up, not even the teacher. Instead, they were woken up by the loud, obnoxious school bell, signaling the dismissal of any currently active classes. Both heirs jolted awake at the sound, looking around the classroom, taking back in their surroundings.

Marinette groaned, dropping her head back onto Damian’s shoulder.

“Get up. We can sleep once we’re back at our dorm room.” The former assassin reminded her, jerking his shoulder to force the bluenette off of it.

"Al Ghul, we’ve been up for the past twenty-four hours and only just got an hour, hour and a half of sleep.” Marinette pointed out, dropping her head onto the desk.

With a sigh, Damian stood up, grabbed their school bags, and crouched down next to Marinette’s chair. He grabbed her arms and draped them over his shoulder, prompting the bluenette to blink at him a few times before piecing it together by herself.

“You don’t have to-” The bluenette attempted to protest only to be interrupted.

“You’re right. I don’t. However, I’m already offering, so just climb on and shut up.” Damian instructed, and after a second more of hesitation, Marinette climbed onto his back.

“Thanks,” Marinette mumbled into his neck, her head lolled to the side, resting on his shoulder as she drifted back to sleep.

Damian carries her back to their dorm room, dropping their bags off by the door. He brings the bluenette over to her room but stops in the doorway a moment after having opened the door, debating whether entering her room to put Marinette on the bed would be considered entering Marinette’s personal space without permission. Then again, Marinette was currently asleep on his back with her head tucked to his neck, so he wasn’t quite sure what did and did not count as personal space at the moment.

“Ya gonna stand there all day kid?” A voice from inside the room asked, causing Damian to take a step back in caution of the possible threat.

“Jeez kid, no need to be so stiff.” The voice laughed as a small floating black cat-like creature came into view.

“Plagg, stop scaring him. We’re supposed to play nice, remember?” A new voice scolded the cat-like being, as a red bug of some sort with a black dot on her forehead zoomed up next to the first voice.

“Yeah, well, you’re scaring the kid just as much as I am, so it’s fine, Sugarcube.” The black cat-like being point out with what seemed to be a shrug.

“Right,” the red bug winced, turning her attention to Damian. “I’m Tikki, kwami of creation, fortune, and order, tethered to the ladybug miraculous. It’s nice to meet you.” The newly introduce kwami greeted him. “Come in, you can just put Marinette on her bed, she won’t mind.”

“Okay.” Damian nodded skeptically, stepping into the room, he walked over to the bed, and sat down on the edge, removing Marinette’s arms from around his neck, he got up and gently laid the bluenette down onto her side.

A few more flying creatures came out of nowhere and flew over to Marinette. The beings landed on the pillows, and blankets, some even landed on the bluenette herself, and curled up, seemingly joining Marinette in her sleep. Seeing as none of the creatures were hurting Marinette, Damian stepped out of the room and across the hall into his own room, where he promptly collapsed onto his bed and stared at the ceiling until he fell asleep.

Damian ended up sleeping until the alarm letting him know it was time to leave for his first night class went off. A whole seven hours of sleep later, Damian still felt exhausted but got out of bed nevertheless. He changed into a clean set of clothing before leaving his room and heading for the kitchen to throw together a quick meal, only to find out that his roommate had already made food.

"It was my day to cook." Damian pointed out but didn't protest the warm plate or cup he was handed.

"And I got more sleep than you and have energy reserves I can pull from. Besides, It's one meal." Marinette shrugged, taking a seat next to him with her own warm plate of food and cup of tea.

"Then you won't mind me making breakfast in the morning," Damian asked, raising a challenging brow.

"Be my guest, but I will warn you, we need to make a run for the grocery store after tomorrow's morning classes," Marinette informed him, letting the conversation trail off from there as they continued eating.

Once they were done, Damian took to cleaning the dirty dishes, while Marinette dried the dishes he put in the dishrack and put them away.

"What are kwamis, and why haven't I heard of them if they are tethered to the miraculi?" The former assassin asked, watching out of the corner of his eye as his roommate almost dropped the plate she had been drying in surprise.

"Which one was it?" The bluenette asked with a tired groan.

"What?"

"Which kwami introduced themself, I'm assuming this was when you dropped me off on my bed."

Damian gave a nod of his head in confirmation.

"Tikki was the one who introduced themself after scolding the one they called Plagg."

Marinette rolled her eyes with a shake of her head, used to the antics her kwamis usually got up to.

"Yeah, go figure it would be those two." The bluenette sighed, picking up a new dish to dry off. "To answer your question, a kwami is a god of an abstract concept, and while there is an unknown number of kwamis, there are only nineteen that have been tethered to the pieces of jewelry you know as mircauli," Marinette explained, putting the dish away and grabbing the next one.

"The reason that no one outside of the Order knows about the kwamis is that the guardians have worked incredibly hard to keep it that way. Our job as guardians is to protect the kwamis because they are, in essence, slaves to the wielder of their specific miraculi, and when a guardian fails to protect the kwamis, we end up with a situation like what happened in Paris." The bluenette informs him, grabbing the last dish that needs to be dried off from the dishrack.

"I can see why the creatures that power the miraculi being slaves to the wielder would be kept a secret." The former assassin acknowledged, letting the conversation trail off from there as they moved on to getting ready to leave for class.

Now that Damian knew about the kwamis, Marinette saw no reason why they would need to continue to be locked up in her room, so she allowed them free range of the dorm apartment, which may or may not have been a mistake. One thing was for sure, their dorm was now always buzzing with movement or chatter. The once quiet apartment was no more as the kwamis flew about the dorm but mainly stay in the kitchen where they discovered that Marinette's roommate would give them snacks and treats if he saw them in the area while he was there.

Another month goes by and their school was let out for winter break. The topic of whether or not they would be going home was once again brought up to each other. However, this time the topic was brought up in a completely different way than it had been for thanksgiving break, it was brought up by Damian instead of Marinette.

“What are you doing for break, and would you be opposed to being kidnapped?” The former assassin questioned, taking a seat at the kitchen island, watching the bluenette move around as she prepared their dinner.

“Uhm… I wasn’t planning on going home this break, and what exactly do you mean by being kidnapped?” Marinette asked in return, only spearing a glance at her roommate before going back to work.

“...My family keeps asking about who dropped off and picked me up from the manor for thanksgiving. So far, I’ve taken to ignoring them or temporarily blocking them. However, I figured it would be best to just introduce you so they would stop with their insistent messages." Damian explained, resting his chin in his hand as he leaned against the countertop.

"Oh, that's what you meant by kidnapping? I thought you meant by one of the rogues, or your mother's side of the family." The bluenette laughed, earning a roll of the eyes from the former assassin. "Sure I'm fine with meeting them. What day were you thinking?"

"From the twentieth to the seventh."

Marinette paused mid-chop, looking up at Damian with furrowed brows.

"That's the entirety of winter break." The bluenette pointed out, earning a raised brow from the former assassin.

"Technically that would be four days into break, not the entirety of it." He corrected, causing Marinette to set her knife down instead of throwing it like she most likely wanted to.

"Al Ghul," Marinette said in a tired, clipped tone, narrowing her eyes at her roommate.

"Yes, Dupain-Cheng?" Damian answered.

Green eyes met blue in amusement.

"Let me get this right. You want me, to meet, and I'm assuming stay with, your family for the entirety of winter break?"

"Again, not the entirety of break, but otherwise, yes that would be correct."

Marinette groaned, breaking eye contact to instead stare up at the ceiling.

"It's for all but four days, Al Ghul. It might as well be the entirety of it." She pointed out in annoyance, glaring at her smirking roommate. "Wait a minute- you're just asking me to come meet the family you're still mad at, so you don't have to interact with them, aren't you?"

"So what if I am?" Damian inquired.

The drop of his previously playful tone caused the bluenette to once again meet his eyes.

"That would be fine, so long as you're aware that I will be clinging to you the entirety of my stay, and I mean that both metaphorically and physically," Marinette informs him. "I hate large crowds of unknown people in unknown places, and usually use magic as a comfort, but I'm not risking it in a manor full of bats so I will be using you as a substitute."

"...fine, so long as you give your usual warnings beforehand, I have no problem with it, seeing as the whole reason you will be in that position is that I'm using you." The former assassin conceded.

"Cool, so is there anything I'll need to know or..." Marinette trailed off, picking the knife back up to continue making dinner.

"It might be beneficial for you to be aware of both the Christmas and new year galas you'll be attending with me." Damian pointed out, rubbing the back of his neck.

The abrupt silence of multiple kwamis was so loud that it could be heard as Marinette slammed the knife back down onto the cutting board.

"You're finishing dinner," Marinette states, leaving the kitchen, she disappeared into her bedroom with the slam of her door.

The same kwamis that had yet to make a noise, burst out into rounds of laughter and cackling as some of them went to go check on their guardian.

"Fair enough." The former assassin sighed, stepping down from the kitchen island stool, he rounded the counter and moved over to the sink, washing his hands before walking back over to where the abandoned cutting board sat. He picked up the knife and continued where his roommate had left off.

A few minutes later, a door down the hall opened with a squeak of its hinges, and the bluenette reappeared, walking over to stand in front of her roommate with a pout. This earned her a questioning brow from the former assassin who turned off the stove and stepped away from the hot surface, which just so happened to have brought him further into Marinette's personal space. Taking that as an invitation, Marinette leaned her forehead against Damian's shoulder and just stayed there.

"I'm upset about having to go to a big event full of suck-up rich people," The bluenette admitted as Damian wrapped his arms around her waist, just enough to clasp his hands together. "It's fine, I can do it easily, and have done it in the past. I'm just not a fan of them."

Damian hummed in acknowledgment.

"I could see about having both of us miss the galas?" The former assassin purposed. "I'm more than okay with having an excuse not to attend those events."

"But your family will be attending them?"

"Yes, they will."

"Won't they be upset if you ditch it?" The bluenette stressed.

"It's more likely that they would be annoyed that I have an out, and they do not," Damian explained, pulling away from his roommate, signaling that he was done with physical contact for the time being. "Quit worrying, Dupain-Cheng. Dinners ready." He says, grabbing out two bowls to serve their food in.

The first few days of break come and go until the day Damian said he would be returning to the manor arrived. Both heirs double-checked that they had everything they needed before heading down to the student parking garage.

This time they would be traveling separately, Damian in his car taking their bags, and Marinette on her bike, just in case she wanted to leave at any point during her stay. Which the former assassin gave full permission and encouragement for her to do so if she starts to feel overcrowded or trapped, or even if she just wanted to go out and do something on her own because she can.

They leave for the manor, and despite Marinette's ability to slit lanes, weave through traffic, and speed, she arrives after Damian. His car pulled through the gate and up to the garage instead of the front door. Her bike pulled up behind him a minute or two after Damian was already out of the car and being ambushed by his siblings.

"Hey, you're the one who picked demon spawn up last time." The tallest of the brothers, that seemed to have been waiting for their arrival, pointed out.

"And what of it?" Marinette questioned curiously but uncaring as she removed her helmet. The three brothers seemed to collectively do a double take as she stepped off her bike and put her helmet away in its proper place.

"I was just curious who would be willing to pick the brat up that late at night." The tallest shrugged. "Nice bike, by the way."

"Mm." The bluenette hummed, attempting to grab her bag from Damian, only for him to sidestep her and raise a brow in her direction.

"I can carry it myself." Marinette huffed, walking after the former assassin, unintentionally, or perhaps it was intentionally on Damian's part, leaving the three brothers behind in the garage where they had clearly been waiting with the sole purpose of ambushing their younger brother when he arrived.

"I'm aware." Damian shrugged, moving the bag just out of her reach once more as they headed inside.

"Master Damian, welcome home." An old English man greeted, then turned his attention over to Marinette. "And you must be Miss Dupain-Cheng. It's a pleasure to have you staying with us. I am Alfred Pennyworth, the family's butler."

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng." The bluenette greeted with a bow of her head.

"I trust that you will show your guest to her room and around the manor, Master Damian."

"Of course, I can, Pennyworth. Come along, Dupain-Cheng." Damian tsked, leading her past another group of who she assumed to be more members of the former assassin's family.

They walked up to the second floor, ignoring the Wayne family's curious stares, and down a long hall, took a left, walked a little further, and stopped outside one of the doors.

"This is where you'll be staying while we're here," Damian informs her, opening the door to show her inside, as well as dropping her bag off beside her bed.

"My room is the door across from yours if you need anything." He said while gesturing to the door he was talking about. "Any questions?"

"Yeah, one. Is your family just going to stare at me like I'm some kind of alien the entire time, or just until we're properly introduced?" Marinette asked, taking a seat on her bed, she patted beside herself for the former assassin to do the same, and while he tsked in annoyance, Damian complied either way and sat down beside the bluenette.

"Truthfully, I have no idea." He shrugged, earning a hum from his roommate.

“Okay then.” Marinette sighed, standing up off the bed with a stretch of her back. “You can either help me fix this place up or start working your way through your meditation exercises. It’s your choice.” She says, closing the bedroom door.

Damian rolled his eye but picked one of the choices offered to him kicking off his shoes the former assassin moved to sit with his legs crisscrossed, hands resting palms up on his thighs. He breathes in at a slow, even pace while Marinette moves around the room, placing her protection, concealment, and silencing wards that she had prepared the night before so it would be easy to set them up. She used a storage bead made from energy pulled for Wayzz's specialty and sub-specialties to simplify the process while boosting the overall integrity of the spells.

With that taken care of, Marinette moved on to unpacking her clothes and toiletries. A majority of the clothing went to hang up in the closet with her shoes, with a small portion of them folded and placed in drawers. Soaps, hair products, dental care, makeup, and herbal remedies were put in what she deemed the correct location to store these items during her stay.

Once that was taken care of, the bluenette grabbed her sketchbook, and some drawing utensils, taking a seat on the bed in the corner created by having it pushed up against two walls. The movement disturbed where the former assassin sat, and while he did turn his head ever so slightly in her direction, Damian didn't open his eyes or otherwise acknowledge her presence. More importantly, he didn’t move to break from his meditative state.

It was about three hours later when one of the Waynes finally came knocking on her door. The bluenette not bothering to look up from her book, placed a hand on one of the wards, temporarily disabling the silencing charm.

"Come in." She called, dropping her hand off the ward and onto her sketchbook.

One of the brothers from earlier slowly opened the door until they could see each other.

"So this is where you're hiding out." Damian's brother observes, looking around from where he stood, leaning against the doorway.

"Well yeah. It was the quietest place where all of my drawing supplies are, so it made the most sense to stay here instead of making a mess somewhere else. That and this place is full of strangers." The bluenette informed him, innocently blinking up at Damian's brother from her spot on the bed. She was completely ignoring the fact that he was most likely talking to her roommate and not her.

"Ah, right... I'm Damian's oldest brother Richard Grayson, but I go by Dick." Damian's brother, Richard Grayson, introduced himself.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng." The bluenette introduced herself in return, looking away from her roommate's brother and back at her sketchbook, done with their conversation. The room fell back into silence.

"...So, how do you two know each other?" Richard asked, once again breaking the room's silence.

"What do you want, Grayson?" Damian states more than asked, finally giving up on his meditation to glare at his eldest brother.

"Oh, so you're done ignoring me now?" Richard inquired, receiving no other answer than the continued glare from his youngest brother.

"Alright, fine," The eldest sighed. "Alfred sent me to say dinner's ready."

"Thank you for letting us know. We'll be down in a bit," Marinette informs him, shooing Richard away from over the top of her sketchbook.

The bluenette only waited until the door closed to turn her attention away from the book and over to her roommate.

"Are we going to be down in a bit?" Marinette asked.

Blue eyes met green with genuine curiosity.

"We are." Damian sighed in defeat, uncrossing his legs, he got up off the bed.

"Okay, then let's go," Marinette encourages, leaving her sketchbook and drawing utensils on the bed, she grabs the sleeve of his shirt, giving a small tug in the direction of the door, they started heading down the hallway, and took a right, went down to the first floor, and walked into the dining room.

A few of the Waynes look to see who was entering the room only for their eyes to trail over to where Damian's roommate was holding onto his sleeve. It's a slight change in body language, but something that the former assassin catches with ease, glaring at each family member. Damian eventually sighs and nudges his roommate.

"Hello, I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Al Ghul's roommate over at G.U." The bluenette introduced herself, walking the rest of the way into the room, Damian leads them over to their seats.

"Wait- really? Blink twice if he's holding you hostage or kidnapped you." The only brother from the garage ambush that had yet to speak, says in such a serious tone that Marinette starts to laugh.

"I mean- technically I was willingly kidnapped?" The bluenette says, earning a glare from her roommate.

"What? That's literally the terminology you used." She pointed out in her defense, which earned a pointed look and an eye roll from the former assassin.

"I'm right, and you can't just roll your eyes every time I am."

"Seeing as you are hardly ever right, I believe I can."

"Uh-huh." The bluenette narrowed her eyes.

"Lemon muffins." She pointed out with a raised brow.

Damian opened his mouth to say something, but his roommate beat him to it, holding up a finger for each thing as she began listing off seemingly random things."Umbrella, headphones, power outage, throwing knif-"

"Okay, you've made your point." The former assassin cut her off.

"Have I, though?"

"Yes. You have." Damian conceded, rolling his eyes.

"You did it again," Marinette smirked, pointing at her roommate with her fork, which earned a side glare and a huff as Damian turned away and went back to eating his food.

"...Well, that was an interesting conversation. Care to explain it for those of us that have no clue what just happened?" A blond girl asked while a few of Damian's family members seemed to second that idea.

The two heirs looked at each other and came to a mutual decision.

"Nope!" "No."

"Aw, not even a little explanation?" She tried again.

"See, I would, but then again, I don't know you, and I have to live with him, so it's a no." Marinette shrugged in a what can you do shrug.

"Oh yeah- sorry, I'm Stephine Brown-Wayne, Cass's- oh uh, Cassandra Cain-Wayne's wife." The blond introduced herself, and the ravenette next to her after a nudge from her wife.

"I already introduce myself, but this is my wife Kor'i and our daughter Mar'i," Richard informed her.

Each Wayne took the time to introduce themself. From oldest to youngest it was Bruce Wayne, the head of the family, and his wife Selina Kyle-Wayne. The unofficial daughter Barbara Gordan, who was a family friend. Then it was Richard and his family, Cassandra and her wife. The second eldest son, Jason Todd, who was rumored to have died a while back, and based on the corrupt life energy clinging to him, the rumors were most likely true. Lastly, it was the second youngest son, Timothy Drake-Wayne, whose husband and his family were visiting their grandparents, so she would have to meet them at a later date.

By the time introductions were over, Marinette and Damian had finished their food and were able to make their escape from the dining hall. The pair left, taking their finished dishes into the kitchen and never returning.

"Ten bucks says they made a run for it." Jason wagered as Kor'i and Dick took Mari away to get ready for bed.

"That's a loser's bet, and you know it." Stephanie snorts with a shake of her head.

"At least we know he's making friends." Barbara pointed out.

"He's made a friend. Singular, not plural, and apparently she's his roommate." Tim notes, leaving to most likely head down to the Batcave.

They eventually all make their way down to the cave. Not for patrol, no, it was to look over the profile Barbara and Tim had started compiling after dinner was over.

"Wait- she's the girl from the Scarcrow incident at the airport?" Dick questions in surprise.

"Yep. She looked familiar so I ran facial recognition through Gotham security cameras, and here she is leaving the airport the day of the attack." Tim explains, switching to the security feed inside the airport during the attack. "And here she is with the same outfit, skin tone, and hair color."

"For whatever reason, the cameras couldn't focus on her face enough for any of our software to recognizer her during our first few look-throughs, but with the facial recognition we traced her back to the airport." Barbara continued.

"Past fighting experience?" Bruce asked with an almost bored tone of neutrality.

"uh- yeah, sort of. She's from Paris, specifically a group of school kids known as the Akuma class, so she's ended up in the middle of a lot of akuma attacks. She was also one of the temporary heroes that got exposed," Tim informs them, pulling the appropriate tabs up on the computer.

"Which one?" Stephine asked in excitement at potentially having another female vigilante.

"Multimouse. She was a literal one-woman army with the ability to create temporary clones that disappeared in a cloud of smoke if they got too damaged." Barbara explained, showing a clip of the pink and grey mouse-themed vigilante going to town on an akuma three times her size.

"Damn." Jason whistled in appreciation, "Her technique is solid, and she's not afraid to fight dirty or hit hard. She knew how to fight before being thrown into a mask. No question about it.”

“That’s not even the most interesting part,” Tim states, finally pulling up Marinette’s personal file.

“She was born in a small village called, Ta-to-sa-so-ke Lo-me-na-la-re, which is the noted pronunciation of the village, by the way.” He explained, stumbling over the name. “I can’t find any translations for the original writing, so it’s safe to assume that this langue is most likely native to this village- but I’m getting sidetracked.”

Tim clicked a few things on the screen, he highlighted the seal that had been stamped onto Marinette’s documents and made them bolder in color so it would be easy to see the image as he adjusted the lighting and contrast of the stamp.

“Voila, the league's crest,” Tim says with lazy little jazz hands. The silence that followed was unnerving.

Patrol went on as normal when the time to head out came. The only real difference was that now all of the bats were the tiniest bit distracted. All of them wondering the same thing.

“Did Damian know that his new friend was, potentially with the league?”

They never ended up asking him as the next day was more chaotic than usual with everyone was rushing around to get ready for the gala. Damian and Marinette were nowhere to be seen for a good portion of the day and it wasn’t until Alfred made the last call to start getting into the limo that the two finally reappeared, both fully dress and ready to go.

With all of the Waynes pilled into the limo, they started the drive over to the venue.

All and all, the night was pretty tame. No one attacked the gala. All of the Waynes were on their best behavior. Really, the biggest thing was that Damain ‘Ice Prince’ Al Ghul-Wayne has a date to the gala, which the Waynes already knew about and had figured during the course of the evening that Damian had most likely invited his roommate, someone he seems to be comfortable with having lived with them for half a year already so that she would act as a deterrent for all of the rich heiresses, and it worked.

Marinette didn’t even seem out of place walking around on Damian’s arm, whispering and laughing with each other, almost as if they were in their own little world. And despite the Waynes' original thinking that Damian probably didn’t know that she had been with the league, it was quickly made clear that he did indeed know, after a longer conversation than they thought would happen, Cassandra gave the all-clear.

When the night ended the Waynes went back home.

This had probably been their calmest gala event. Nothing had gone wrong, their biggest worry was who would be winning the bet of tomorrow’s headline would be since they all knew it would be something revolving around Damian’s ‘mysterious’ date. So now each and every one of the Wayens was wound up, waiting for something to happen, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Morning came and each Wayne made their way into the dining room to eat breakfast, doing their best to ignore the nervous buzz in the air as they waited for the stragglers to join them. Eventually, the girl in question comes walking backwards into the dining hall with Damian a few steps behind her. They were evidently having a conversation during their walk, but cut it off with a slight smile and a roll of the eyes as the realization that they were at their destination settled in.

It was silent as the two sat down. Then, Marinette’s small smile grew into a poorly concealed smirk. She grabbed a muffin and handed it to Damian, who took it without a second thought, taking a bite of the baked good only to choke on it a moment later.

Damian threw the muffin at Marinette, glaring at her with no real heat behind it.

“Hey! No throwing food!” The bluenette laughed, being a complete hypocrite as she threw the muffin back.

Alfred cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention to him before a food fight could break out, knowing how this family is.

“Master Damian, what’s so wrong with the muffin that you’ve decided, throwing it was the best course of action?” The pseudo-grandfather inquired with a raised brow.

Instead of an answer from the youngest Wayne, there was a round of laughter from Cassandra who had a muffin in her hands that was clearly missing a bite. The ravenette gestured for her wife to take a bite, and she does, then promptly starts laughing, which makes the rest of the Waynes curious. One by one, they each ended up with a muffin of their own, well, all but Damian who was totally not sulking in his seat, and definitely wasn’t waiting for the opportunity to make a run for it.

While they didn’t understand what had the two women laughing as hard as they were, the muffins were still really good.

“Would you like a muffin Mr. Pennyworth?” Marinette offers with a smile that was just a touch too sweet.

“I suppose I could indulge just this once.” The butler sighed, taking the offered muffin.

He takes a bite.

“My, these lemon muffins are quite good. Would you be so kind as to share the recipe with me? I have a feeling that they will make a wonderful addition to the breakfast spread, so long as they don’t all end up on the floor.” Alfred says with a pointed look at Bruce’s youngest son.

“Of course, thank you for letting me borrow the kitchen this morning.” Marinette cheered, purposefully ignoring the loud thunk of her roommate’s head hitting the table.

“You told Cassandra and Brown, didn’t you.” Damian accused her, and rightfully so since she did in fact, do just that.

“Whatever gave you that impression?” Marinette asked, blinking innocently, she spared a glance at the two women who started cackling again.

Other than that strange start, breakfast continued without any more events, with the exception of Marinette and Damian leaving briefly to go grab cleaning supplies, clean up their mess, and put the cleaning supplies back away.

Winter break continued. They celebrated Christmas, went to the new years gala, celebrated New Year's, and then the two heirs returned to their dorm apartment to continue the rest of the school year.

January went by in the blink of an eye. Nothing notable happened that month.

February turned the school campus into a bigger gossip mill than usual, with who’s dating who and who’s potentially going to ask who out. Marinette and Damian did their best to avoid all of it, even if they did somehow end up with hundreds of candy grams between the two of them.

March was another boring month, or, well, it was a sort of boring month. There was a weird thing that happened with green smoke bombs and glitter that no one ever figured out who was responsible for it.

April there was an easter egg hunt where you could get extra credit for certain classes. Damian and Marinette teamed up to get their schedule’s eggs a collective thirteen times. It was because of this that they had to announce a last-minute rule that you could only collect one egg per class on your schedule. That didn’t mean that the two heirs didn’t get all of their points, on the contrary, they had an ironic one hundred ten percent in each of their classes now.

May had another school break, and this time they went to the Guardian temple instead of Wayne manor. During this break, Damian spent the majority of his time training while Marinette spent it working as the Crown High Priestess. They didn’t actually get to see each other much or that often, which was definitely strange when they were so used to seeing each other every day.

June is finals season so while the two heirs do get to see each other, they’re both overly busy with schoolwork and don’t have time to just sit down and meditate together or spar. To no one's surprise, they both pass their finals with flying colors. The school year was finally over and let out for the summer. Marinette and Damian were given their warning to either sign up for another year in the doors or start packing, but of course, instead of figuring that out, the first thing the two heirs do is start sparing now that they finally have the time.

It was a good way to get out all of the energy they had stored up, and boy did they have a lot of energy. If it wasn’t for the old blood pact keeping them from injuring each other, they would definitely be covered in large patches of ugly bruises. Eventually, Damian is able to pin Marinette.

“Alright,” The bluenette breathes out, sucking in another gasp of air. “You win.” She admits in defeat, letting her head fall back onto the mat as she stops struggling, looking up at Damian with breathy laughter and a bright smile.

For a moment blue eyes met green, and neither one of them could tell you who leaned in first, just that they did. Their lips met for nothing more than a brush of skin, but then they did it again, and again, and again. A slow and sweet experiment as they leaned into the other’s touch before finally breaking away for a more steady supply of air. They stayed where they were, laying on the sparing mats, foreheads leaning against each other, their hot breaths fanning across the lips of the other.

“This can’t be a one-time thing, Damian, I’m not allowed to date around.” The bluenette reminds him as blue once again meets green.

“I’m aware,” Damian murmurs, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “And it’s not.” He answers, getting pulled into another breathless kiss as Marinette rolls them over with a giggle, smiling down at her roommate.

“I’m assuming we’re dorming together next year too?” The bluenette double-checks.

“Of course.” Damian huffed with a roll of his eyes, pulling her back down for another kiss.

[vladdyissues]

Listen, listen, what if in the middle of the recovery in the hospital Vlad would lack of money and NOT try to steal them, but decided to go "ghost life" (ye, technically he's still halfa but go to his weak human form when he's beaten or needs to have some sleep)? Danny wouldn't know for long time why that ghost is so interested in him and why he can't scent Vlad or his scent is totally different than other ghosts, it would a plot twist of Vlad being halfa, too. I don't think Plasmius would try to seduce Maddie. Revenge from Jack? Yes.

Do you think Vlad would have more ghost friends (like a popular hc of Skulker+Ember+Technus+Spectra+Vlad) or still stay same miserable way?

That's a fascinating alternate universe scenario! Instead of staying in the human world and robbing his way to wealth and power, Vlad flees to the Ghost Zone and tries to eke out an existence there. We already saw in Masters of All Time that his ghost half doesn't suffer (at least not visually) from the effects of the ecto-acne, so maybe it hurt less to be in his ghost form, and that was the impetus for him to flee to the Ghost Zone. It's something to think about.

I honestly don't see Vlad making any actual friends in the human world or the ghost realm. He likes having pawns and minions, people he can use, often ruthlessly*. (See: the townsfolk he overshadowed to vote him in for mayor in Eye for an Eye.) He works with Skulker and employs the vultures and ectopusses to do his dirty work, but he isn't actually friends with them. All he seems to care about is their use to him. He has no desire for friendship or companionship with other people or ghosts who aren't Maddie and/or Danny. And if he can't have what he truly wants, he'll accept no substitutes. It's all or nothing when it comes to Vlad.

*Of course, this could be a defense mechanism; Vlad has been hurt emotionally and physically. He's been traumatized, had his heart broken, he feels betrayed, and perhaps he's afraid to let anyone in now. Deep down, he's so tender, so desperate to love and be loved (see: Maternal Instincts and Kindred Spirits) that he has to guard himself well, otherwise his next heartache might destroy him. He's like a crab: tough exterior but extremely vulnerable on the inside.

I imagine he views ghosts like Ember and Technus and Spectra as incompetent or beneath him. Canon examples: in Torrent of Terror, he only helps free Vortex so he can manipulate him, and when he loses the means of controlling him, he lays on the charm to save his own skin (and then jets, leaving Danny to clean up his dirty work). Same with the Fright Night and Pariah Dark in Reign Storm. He wouldn't deign to actually befriend these ghosts, and he certainly doesn't respect them. To him they're merely obstacles to be overcome, threats to be neutralized. Upon his arrival to the Ghost Zone, I bet he set up a lair somewhere especially hidden and worked on developing his powers until he could easily wallop his competition—and maybe that's how he ended up recruiting Skulker and the vultures, by holding the threat of destruction over their heads.

As for Danny, I'm sure he would be stunned and intrigued to find another ghost hybrid like himself, and if this first meeting were to happen organically in the Ghost Zone, it would put Vlad in a position of power. He could lie to Danny, make up any tragic backstory he wanted, and Danny would have no reason to doubt him; after all, in this universe, Vlad Masters disappeared from the hospital and was never heard from again. Vlad could prey on the boy's curiosity, luring him in with either good or nefarious intentions, and if he played his cards just right, Danny would soon become his first true and loyal friend in 20+ years, and together they could go on to conquer the Ghost Zone.

With a crown on his head and a companion at his side—not to mention the fear and obedience of the inhabitants of the Ghost Zone—Vlad would at last have everything he ever wanted: love, power, and an eternity to enjoy both.

[frithwontdie]

Back to my previous question, if I may:

Was Napolean supposed to happen? Or was he the monster created by their own actions?

When speaking of Napoleon’s genius as a statesman, we must never forget (among other things) that it was he who finally reduced the Gallican Church to ruins, thus irretrievably delivering over the great majority of the French to Rome and destroying every possibility of a genuine national Church. He it was also who enthroned the Jews. This man — devoid of all understanding for historical truth and necessity, the impersonation of wicked caprice — is a destroyer, not a creator, at best a codifier, not an inventor; he is a minion of the Chaos, the proper complement to Ignatius of Loyola, a new personification of the anti-Teutonic spirit. — Houston Stewart Chamberlain, Foundations of the Nineteenth Century (1899).

Napoleon Bonaparte (1769-1821) was the product of the French Revolution and the leading figure, that the Jews extended the gains they had made in France to much of the rest of Europe. Ghettos were abolished, granted them civil rights, lifted all restrictions on Jewish activities, not only Emancipated them in France every country he conquered, unleashing bloodshed and tyranny and anyone who spoke out against the Jews was in danger of being put before a military firing squad.

In 1807, Napoleon issued decrees to help promote equality among the jews. His third decree, the Decret infame (infamous decree) limiting the extent to which Jewish moneylenders could prey on the French peasantry, the Jews screamed in rage against him.

Although its aim was to grant equal citizenship, it restricted Jewish money lending (Catholics were not permitted to commit acts of usury, that is, the charging of interest as profit on loans), annulled all debts owed to Jews by married women, minors and soldiers, voided any loan that had interest rates exceeding 10 percent, and limited the residency of new Jewish peoples in France by restricting their business activities, while allowing work in agriculture and craftsmanship. The combination of these decrees severely weakened the financial position of once dominant rural French money lending Jews.

Despite all the wonderful things he did for the Jews and the positive things he said about them. It is clear on many different occasions, that Napoleon personally despised them. "The Jews are a vile people, cowardly and cruel,” he said in reference to some of the atrocities committed by Jews during the Reign of Terror. They are “the most despicable race in the world.”

In a letter of March 6, 1808, to his brother Jerome, Napoleon wrote:

"I decided to improve the Jews. But I do not want more of them in my kingdom. Indeed, I have done all to prove my scorn of the vilest nation in the world."

In 1815, Jewish Zionists James Rothschild of France and Nathan Rothschild of England finance Wellington’s victory over Napoleon at Waterloo. As a form of revenge against Napoleon over the Decret infame. Leading to Napoleon’s own end.

[the-crow-binary]

One day, I will post a fic who has full context, with an actualy beginning, and is accessible to anyone... today is not that day.

Have a little piece about Mathias trapped in CV3 Castlevania after living there for a while and having bond quite a lot with Hector :) (tbf, @beevean is the one writing the fic wich is the context to this piece, but has not yet finished it. Blame her not me <3)

The room was strangely pretty. A good bed, a table, a chair, a few books… If he had been led here blindfolded, Mathias could have never guess it was supposed to be a cell. It was all so neatly prepared, he suspected the Count always had the intention to lock him up at one point or another. All the suppose freedom he had given him was nothing but a big cage, in the end. But his freedom was the last of his worries. He couldn't tell how much time had passed since he has been led here by Dracula's minions, who were still guarding his door, but it didn't matter. The recent events were still playing in his head, haunting, torturing his mind. Hector getting impaled on large, demonic wings' fingers. The blood dripping from his mouth, his pained moans, the sound of shattered glass and the Count's clothes folding as he throws his general out of a window. There was no scream, except, maybe, his own. Sitting against a wall, his limbs were still shaking, but his cheeks were no longer wet. He was never going to see him again, he was never going to hear the sound of his voice, of his laugh, the sparkles in his eyes as he was swearing his life to him, kissing the back of his hand… He brushed over it with his fingers. Somehow, he could still feel the warmth of soft lips caressing his skin.

"Is somebody there?"

Mathias looked up, startled. Two men were standing in his cells. One, armed with a whip, standing with an elegance that painfully reminded him of Leon, and the other, much smaller and scrawny, wearing clothes he could only associate with bandits. How did they get in his cell?

"Looks like it," said the small man, "why aren't you saying anything, sir? Did they cut off your tongue?" "Don't rush him, Grant. We don't know what he has been through."

The taller one approached carefully. Mathias stayed still, observing.

"To be protected by such fierce beasts, and being offered such a nice room as a cell… You must be an important prisoner to the Count, are you not?"

The Lord wanted to snap, to scream all his hatred for the Count, all his despair for being trapped in more ways than one, to order these strange men to go away and leave him alone to brood. But he kept his composure and silenced his most stupid thoughts. He wasn't going to get anything from crying alone in his cell, waiting for death. He still needed to go back home… he still needed to go back to his wife and friend. That's what Hector would have wanted.

"Who are you?" he calmly asked. "My name is Trevor Belmont," the name made Mathias' heart skip a beat, "and this is my companion, Grant Danasty." "We're here to defeat Dracula and put an end to his reign of terror, once and for all!"

Mathias looked at both men, one after the other. He didn't have time to process the informations given to him that a hand reached to him.

"And your name, sir…?"

He looks into the eyes of the man, they were the same blue as his old friend… Something about him was magnetic. He couldn't say if it was naturally coming off from him, or if it was his mind playing tricks, knowing he's the descendant of Leon… but it was there. And it made him take the offered hand, without thinking about it.

"Mathias Cronqvist. I'm…" he paused, getting up on his feet with the hunter's help, "I am an important prisoner to the Count. You are right." "Oh? Are you going to help us defeat him then?" asked Grant. "I don't have much, except for my brain. But if you will have me… I'll gladly join your side." "We would never be too much to fight him, but are you sure…? I'm sure you already know how dangerous our mission is." "Trust me, I am most confident in the fact I won't get too harmed." "Alright… Welcome to the group, Mathias Cronqvist."

Trevor shook his hand and put the other on his shoulder. The gesture was comforting, and so was his friendly smile. He reminded him all too much of his ancestor… four hundred years into the future, and Leon's influence still lived on. He would marvel at the fact, if the situation wasn't so heartbreaking.

[gemwing1988]

After the Ignitus’s sacrifice to help them through the Belt of Fire, Spyro and Cynder now have to traverse through the burning wasteland on their own, narrowing avoiding geysers of lava, soaring over rivers of magma and occasionally fending off Malefor’s minions scouting the lands.

As they trekked further towards Malefor’s fortress, Cynder was not the only who was plagued with concerns and doubt.

Many thoughts had raced through Spyro’s mind about what had happened earlier after Ignitus had seemingly perished in the Belt of Fire. How he had almost lost himself to his darker form, nearly doing something he would regret in a futile attempt to save the very dragon he came to consider a father although it was too late.

Since his final confrontation with Gaul in the Well of Souls, Spyro had dreaded ever being forced back into that form. A very powerful but fierce mass of darkness. A seemingly unconscious force of unbridled destruction. It had felt like he couldn’t control himself. All he could do was see through the eyes of a stranger as his body had brutally obliterated Gaul, transforming the Ape King into solid stone before completely obliterating him into dust.

Spyro had every right mind to hate Gaul for his part in the raid of the Dragon Temple, smashing up thousands of dragon eggs, killing thousands of unborn hatchlings cold blood. Spyro had every good reason to never forgive Gaul for his role in stealing Cynder’s egg and his involvement in corrupting her.

However, the sight of the ruthless Ape King be destroyed just like that happened so sudden. And what made it terrifyingly shocking was the fact that he had done it. All because of what his exposure in the Well of Souls had did to him.

After sealing his friends and himself in the time Crystal he had conjured during the cave-in and escaping the Mountain of Malefor with Hunter’s help in the past three years, Spyro had hoped he would never take on that form ever again in the fear he would end up hurting the ones he love.

It had actually terrified him that it had happened anyway. He had been severely stricken with grief over the loss of Ignitus, the very first dragon to ever believe in him. His mentor, his father-figure.

He had feared he would have completely lost himself if Cynder had not calmed him down.

How quickly things have changed since they had embarked on their quest to put an end to this war.

It almost felt like a long time ago Spyro had freed Cynder from Malefor’s influence and saved her. And that night she had left the Dragon Temper because she couldn’t cope with her guilt, it had broken him. He did not want her to leave.

Despite what she had done in the past, it was not her fault. She had been used by the Dark Master, an unwilling puppet dragged along by its strings by the true villain behind all the pain and suffering all those years.

Spyro had forgiven her and gave her the benefit of doubt. Ever since, he had seen her an ally. A companion. A good friend.

Perhaps… maybe even more.

And the more he had thought it, she had also saved him. Twice in fact.

Back in the Well of Souls when Spyro struggled to regain control of himself, Cynder was the one to snap him out of him. And just now, she had talked him down when his dark form resurfaces through his grief over the loss of Ignitus. And she even comforted him.

He would have never made it this far without her.

Next Ignitus, she had meant a lot to Spyro than she’d ever know.

She was his anchor. His fire. His light of hope.

Spyro knew that Ignitus would wand him to move on and focus on their journey and out an end to Malefor’s reign of terror once and for all. He can’t — WON’T — his mentor’s sacrifice be in vain.

No matter what, Spyro can’t avoid to lose anymore people he came to care about.

Sparx. His adoptive dragonfly parents, Flash and Nina. Cyril, Volteer and Terrador. Hunter. And Cynder.

He would die for them. Cross the sky for them. They were all he needed. Wherever he is now, even Ignitus’s spirit will send a light burning him alone. And the fire of their love will guid him home.

And will Cynder always beside him, he will always have something to fight for.

[tanoraqui]

Not A Hero? (also this isn't necessarily in the spirit of the meme, but speaking of your Girl Genius fics, I still reread A Family Reconstructed periodically; was there anything you wrote for that that never got posted?)

Someone else asked about Not A Hero, so, I'm VERY flattered that you like A Family Reconstructed so much!

I have exactly 2 paragraphs of the next chapter:

The flaming missile streaked towards the exposed airship and, reflexively, Zanta grabbed Chump’s arm at the same time as he seized her around the waist, and they both pulled each other backwards off the cliff. For just a moment, amid the surprise and fury and sudden rebirth of terror (not for herself, never that, but the Valley and her children)—for a moment, falling just ahead of stony shrapnel and explosion that made her skull rattle, she nearly let out a hysterical giggle for no reason other than just like old times.

Then they hit the Skiff and she lost the air in her lungs and her grip on his arm—which she needed to do anyway, to not be swept away by the current. Ashtara’s Words was not a gentle river.

I did have plans beyond that, I had a whole epic battle idea where the kids, of course, all worked together to save the day. They were in flying machines, and I think use Skifandrian "magic" to put all the invaders to sleep... Unfortunately, I don't remember any more details than that. They might be written in a chat somewhere, but idk with who or on what platform :(

I do, however, have a short sequel, which I think I've put on tumblr before? called "Interregis" (play on "interregnum", meaning "between kings" but the latin is declined differently to mean...to imply conversation one king to another, rather than the time between one king reigning and the next:

also fun intra(post)-fic fic about how Tarvek definitely has a phase where he’s, like, sorta toadying with Gil? Not much, but he doesn’t argue properly, keeps backing down first and going with Gil’s ideas or suggesting activities Gil likes but he doesn’t - and standing up against the school’s social structure, though it’s Tarvek so it’s not “standing up” so much as “manipulating everyone else into stopping.” In fairness, he leads by example. And probably lectures. And mild blackmail. All because, of course, he’s very aware that he’s only alive so far as the Baron trusts him with Gil. So he tries to be the best friend possible, which is good for the social structure but the other stuff leads Gil to thinking something’s wrong but he has no idea WHY, and probably tries to give Tarvek some space? Then Tarvek’s like “oh no he’s ABANDONING me” and gets sorta clingy, and Gil’s like “umm?” and tries to make him feel better, and they end up shouting things (in some crawl space somewhere, of course) like

“Why are you acting so WEIRD?”

“I’m not!”

“You are! You keep- you keep acting like a minion.”

*actual offense* “I have not!” 

“Yes you have. You keep doing what I say even when you don’t want to, and not arguing properly, and-” Gil scrambled for other evidence. “You didn’t even complain about playing on gliders yesterday, and you hate flying!”

“That didn’t count,” Tarvek said hotly. “We were still indoors.” In an airship, but Castle Wulfenbach never felt like that. And he didn’t have a less superficial argument. He just hadn’t meant Gil to notice.

 “What’s wrong?” Gil demanded, and it was probably the plaintive concern that made Tarvek grind his palms into his eyes and groan.

“Don’t you know anything about politics?”

Gil scowled. “You aren’t acting like a toady just because I’m the Baron’s son. You’re my friend.”

“Yeah, and I have to be,” Tarvek snapped, “because you’re the Baron’s son, and I know.”

Gil stepped back like he’d been punched in the stomach. “You—you don’t want to be friends anymore?”

Tarvek gaped. “No—”

Gil was already out of the crawlspace, a flash of blue scrambling away into the dark.

Tarvek sprinted after him. “Gil, wait! I didn’t mean it—” He jumped over a cable. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

Gil whirled back. His eyes were burning, with spark and tears. “So how did you mean it? Like I’m just someone else you need to get on your side, like Minnie? Or you think I’m like—like Zulenna, and want to boss people around all the time? Except you were yelling at her last week.”

“I need the Baron to think I’m on his side,” Tarvek said desperately. There were tears behind his eyes, too, but he had enough self-control not to let them out. “I need him to not see me as a threat, or he’ll kill me.”

Gil balled his hands into fists. “He wouldn’t.” But he didn’t say it with much conviction.

“Of course he would,” said Tarvek. “He took me to Skifander when he found out I knew, and the only reason he didn’t throw me off the ship halfway there was that he was so worried what they might be doing to you.”

“But you’re not a threat,” Gil insisted. “Even to me. He’s Baron Wulfenbach.”

Tarvek felt a bit nettled. “Yeah but—” he started to say hotly. Then he stopped. Then he closed his eyes. Secret for secret. That was what real friends did in stories. He opened them again. “But I’m the Storm King.”

They stared at each other for a moment, breathing hard; Tarvek in nervy anticipation, Gil in mostly dumb silence.

Gil broke it. “You’re nine.”

Tarvek rolled his eyes. “I’m not Andronicus Valois. But I am descended from him, directly. Through my mother.” He jutted his chin a little. “The Fifty Families will back me.”

“Huh,” said Gil. He studied his friend. “And the Baron knows?”

Tarvek started to pick at a soon-to-be-fraying hem on his sleeve. “I think so. I’m pretty sure he saw my notes, the ones I made when we were flying to Skifander. I was breaking through; I wasn’t…smart. I wrote some stuff about…stuff. Coronation plans.”

Gil came a little nearer, but only to stab a finger at his chest. “So you were just faking it when you told Zulenna it wasn’t fair to boss people around just because they weren’t as noble?”

“I—” This sleeve was very fraying. Tarvek forced himself to meet Gil’s eyes. “She does have a right, sort of. It’s proper.” He thought about hanging upside-down off the end of a bird-like flyer, Zedmara holding his belt so he could grab Zeetha’s ankle so she could clutch Gil’s and all together they could save the barbarian valley. Tarvek conceded, “But maybe ‘proper’ is overrated. And she didn’t have to be mean.”

Gil crossed his arms, staring in a way that reminded Tarvek suddenly of the way the Baron had stared at him in Sturmhalten. Judging. Tarvek tried to wait it out, but then he thought Gil didn’t want him to act meek like that, but then he realized it was too late because he was already starting to bristle sparkily (what right–)

Then Gil smiled, and just like that he was Gil again, scuffmarks and all. Sunshine, not storm. He clapped Tarvek on the shoulder. “I guess we’ll have to rule the Empire together then.”

“What?”

“Yeah!” Gil was starting to light up with the idea, like he always did with something new. “The stuffy people will trust you in charge, and the smarter people will trust me in charge—”

“Hey!” said Tarvek, but Gil rolled over him.

“—and they’ll think we’re going to fight, but really we’ll work together to make Europa the peacefulest it can be!”

Tarvek smiled. It was a good thought. If he was really, really good, he should let Gil keep thinking it.

“It doesn’t always work like that,” he said instead. “It usually doesn’t. Ever. There’s a lot of—of extra things.” Like the chapel in the library at home. That was maybe a secret for another day.

Gil scoffed dramatically. “Nothing we can’t handle. And we can call Skifander for back-up.” He bit his lip. “And if the—if my father decides you’re too dangerous, I’m sure my mother will yell at him again.”

. . . . . . . .

They were lying in the rafters between the ceiling of the third starboard mess hall and the floor of the hydroponics bay, which had small holes in it for water filtration that looked like stars if you squinted and hung a sheet of clear plastic to keep off the dripping. There were views of real stars outside the windows all over the ship, including from the actual observatory, but this was a uniquely Castle Wulfenbach planetarium, and nobody else ever tried to use it.

Tarvek had his hands behind his head, as a pillow. “Hypothetical:” he proposed, and only his tight tone gave away that this wasn’t just the start to another scientific abstraction. “If you had a secret, that was yours but also really not yours, and both the revelation and the keeping of it could be incredibly important…what would you do?”

Gil considered for a moment, then rolled up onto one elbow, facing his friend in the dim light filtering down from the hydroponics’ artificial sun. The rafters were relatively slimmer than they had been four years ago, when they first found this place, but both boys had enough balance training that it didn’t matter. “I think that my father has known for years that your family is hiding more than the Storm King thing,” he said seriously. “And if you’re tacitly confirming it to me, when you know I won’t help you hide anything if it’s a real threat to the Empire, then you’re ready to tell him yourself. And you know it.”

Tarvek sighed, not quite like a highwayman resigned to hanging but pretty close. “Yeah.”

-

It had gotten less intimidating to speak to Baron Wulfenbach in the years since breakthrough and Skifander. It was never an issue when Tarvek was in the madness place—then, the challenge was to keep his tongue to himself. Perhaps the shift was derived from the accumulated time they had spent in fugues together, the Baron training him and Gil in secret laboratories late at night—Gil because the Baron insisted his spark and identity remain secret, Tarvek because he seemed to have given up trying to prevent him from tagging along. More likely it was due less serious moments, here and there—the pickling juice mess, or the time the Baron let them stay for breakfast waffles. It was difficult to be afraid of a man you’d seen meticulously spread butter on every plane of a stack of waffles and then eat them with his fingers. Very difficult.

Tarvek managed it, however, despite the memory of waffles and the royal blood flowing through his veins, because the man in question was Baron Wulfenbach, conqueror of a continent (Tarvek’s continent—and they both knew it). The Baron had never lost the knack of glowering at Tarvek through storm-grey eyes like he was judge, jury, and executioner, and not particularly pleased with what he was seeing.

Even Gil, sitting seeming-carelessly on the edge of his father’s desk, legs dangling, didn’t ease the tension in the Baron’s office. He was assistant justice as much as advocate today, because Tarvek wasn’t sure he could do this twice.

He kept his shoulders firm and put his hands behind his back, pretending it was part of recitation posture rather than an excuse to twist them nervously together. “First, I want remind you that I’ve kept Gil’s secret for nearly five years, and Skifander, and everything I know because of those. When I could have told it all to any one of the eight people I know on this ship who would be sure to get the information back to my father or one of your other enemies, who would arrange an assassination. And you only know seven of them. And I could’ve gotten away with one of the teleports before you even knew the spy was gone.”

The Baron glowered darker—glared, standing (looming), hands dangerously flat on the desk. “Is that a threat?”

“No!” Tarvek didn’t try to hide his horror—as much of what the Baron might do if he believed Tarvek a danger as at the idea that it could easily be true. Two minutes in and he’d already miscalculated. “No, I was trying to establish trust! So you remember I’m– you can—”

“Why do we need to remember that?” Gil asked, prompting and prosecutor. Tarvek wished Gil hadn’t learned how to be so neutral.

He stilled the hands he’d started openly wringing, and kept his chin high. “Because in another minute you’re going to want to stop, and I don’t want you to.”

The last part slipped into a whine, despite Tarvek’s best efforts. But Gil’s eyes crinkled in sympathy, so maybe it was okay.

“What exactly do you have to say, Sturmvarous?” demanded the Baron, with no sympathy at all.

The difference between a common soldier reporting and a lord surveying, Tarvek’s governess used to say when he was five, was in the chin and the eyes. She said it whenever he slouched in a lesson, with liberal prodding from her silver-tipped cane to emphasize the point.

Tarvek took a deep breath, hands at his side—visible, not a threat—and raised his chin to meet the Baron’s stormy eyes. “I don’t know everything, but the Other is Lucrezia Mongfish and my father and the Knights of Jove have been working with her for years, even before she destroyed Castle Heterodyne. She wasn’t really kidnapped.

[quordleona03]

'Dumbledore's gay!'"

The plot of the 7 Harry Potter books, summarised:

An evil and powerful wizard, enforcing a reign of terror on the wizarding world, in casting a death spell on two resisters and their infant son, accidentally puts a part of his soul into the baby - making the baby a living Horcrux.

The evil wizard has already made himself effectively invincible by separating his soul into six Horcruxes, but each time it cost him something - weakened him - and doing this accidentally, weakened him to a degree that he lost control of his evil forces and the Wizarding World was - temporarily - free. To most people in the Wizarding World, it appeared that the evil wizard had killed himself when he tried to cast a curse at the baby, and the baby became famous as The Boy Who Lived even before he went to wizarding school.

To hide the boy from the Wizarding World and from the evil Wizard's minions, Albus Dumbledore, who loved the evil wizard but now wants to destroy him, decides he will place the boy with his muggle blood-relatives until he is old enough to go to wizarding school. The boy will grow up ignorant of magic: Dumbledore can control what he is taught at school.

For six years at school, until the boy is old enough to think he can fight the evil wizard one-on-one, Dumbledore trains and grooms the boy, while surreptitiously destroying all the other Horcruxes. Dumbledore commits suicide when he destroys the sixth one: he doesn't want to live to see the end he has orchestrated, when the man he loves will be entrapped into casting a killing curse at his own Horcrux - his last Horcrux - and so kill himself by destroying the boy. I believe J. K. Rowling meant to out Dumbledore in the last book, to reveal his plot to have Harry Potter killed and to reveal Dumbledore's love for a man, as a lethal homophobic twist.

She wasn't counting on the movies. In the movies, Dumbledore is sweet. He's weird but he's lovely. No one could detest him. Rowling couldn't walk back on Dumbledore being in love with Voldemort: but she modified and tamed it down and decided people liked Dumbledore better as hero than as covert villain revealed in last act.

[nooneaughtmeinthislol]

The Shadow's Redemption

In the ancient realm of Ebonreach, there existed a being of unfathomable darkness known as Lord Nethrax. With his malevolent power and legions of demonic minions, Nethrax cast a shadow of terror over the land, leaving a trail of devastation in his wake. His name became synonymous with fear, whispered in hushed tones by those who dared to speak of him. Under his reign, millions perished, their screams echoing through the ages.

Yet, as the eons passed and the world changed, Nethrax grew weary of his endless cycle of destruction. The weight of his sins bore heavily upon him, and a seed of remorse took root within his darkened heart. In a moment of clarity, he made a choice that would alter the course of his existence forever. Renouncing his demonic powers, Nethrax retreated from the world of mortals, seeking refuge in the anonymity of a new life.

In the bustling city of Evermere, nestled amidst towering spires of stone and steel, Nethrax took on the guise of a humble merchant named Eldric. With his otherworldly strength and keen intellect, he carved out a niche for himself in the bustling marketplace, peddling wares to the unsuspecting denizens of the city. Though the memories of his past deeds haunted him still, Eldric found solace in the mundane routines of his new life, seeking redemption in the simplicity of everyday existence.

Years turned into decades, and Eldric watched as the world around him changed and evolved. He witnessed the rise and fall of empires, the triumphs and tragedies of countless lives, yet he remained steadfast in his resolve to leave his dark past behind. His days were filled with the laughter of friends and the warmth of companionship, and for a time, it seemed as though the specter of Nethrax had been vanquished forever.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans in store for Eldric. One fateful evening, as he made his way through the winding streets of Evermere, he felt the familiar chill of darkness creeping into his soul. A sense of dread washed over him, and he knew with a sinking heart that his past had come back to claim him.

Emerging from the shadows stepped a figure cloaked in darkness, his eyes burning with an unholy fire. It was Azrael, the ancient rival of Nethrax, who had long sought vengeance for the atrocities committed by his nemesis. With a wicked smile, Azrael spoke of an ancient prophecy, one that foretold of a cataclysmic battle between the forces of light and darkness, a battle in which Nethrax was destined to play a pivotal role.

Desperate to escape the fate that awaited him, Eldric attempted to flee, but Azrael's dark magic ensnared him in its grasp, dragging him back into the depths of his own darkness. With a cry of anguish, Eldric felt the tendrils of Nethrax's power coursing through his veins once more, twisting and warping his very being until he was consumed by the shadows.

As the transformation took hold, Eldric's humanity slipped away, replaced by the cold, unfeeling heart of Lord Nethrax. With a triumphant roar, he unleashed his dark power upon the city, laying waste to all who stood in his path. The streets ran red with blood as the forces of light and darkness clashed in a final, cataclysmic showdown.

In the midst of the chaos, a glimmer of light shone forth from the depths of Eldric's soul, a faint echo of the man he once was. With every ounce of strength he could muster, he fought against the darkness that threatened to consume him, struggling to reclaim his humanity before it was too late.

And in the end, it was that spark of light that proved to be his salvation. With a final burst of energy, Eldric unleashed a wave of pure, unadulterated light, banishing the darkness that had taken root within him and vanquishing Azrael once and for all. As the dust settled and the echoes of battle faded into silence, Eldric stood victorious, his soul at long last free from the shackles of his past.

Though the scars of his dark deeds would never fully heal, Eldric knew that he had been given a second chance, a chance to atone for the sins of his past and forge a new path forward. With a heavy heart and a newfound sense of purpose, he vowed to use his powers for good, to protect the innocent and fight against the forces of darkness wherever they may arise.

And so, as the sun rose over the shattered remnants of Evermere, Eldric set out into the world once more, a beacon of hope in a world consumed by shadow. Though the road ahead would be long and fraught with peril, he knew that so long as there was light in his heart, he would never again be consumed by the darkness that had once threatened to destroy him.

[atomic-thomas]

(Fake ASMR Commission) Grifty Tells You Lore [Thousand-Year Door Roleplay]

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

"Hello & good day to you. It's not often that people run across the rooftops to see me. Some folk don't even know I'm here."

"Are you here to listen to the tale of a thousand years past? If you give me 80 coins, I'll tell you the full story."

...

"Very well. Thank You. Now let us begin."

"Ages ago, a city flourished here in peace & splendor. …But it was destroyed in a single day by a demon from the dark beyond. Historians claim a great calamity befell the city, but nay… 'twas a demon. The city sank below ground, and one-quarter of the old city became the demon's den. This demon put fear into the hearts of all men and sent out minions to take the land. And its den, its palace, grew rich with the treasures stolen from all over the world."

"In order to increase its already formidable power… The demon created Crystal Stars to hold the essence of the heavens. One of these stars was placed in each country to exert the demon's influence. One of the castles built to contain these stars still stands near Petal Meadows."

"The demon built a dungeon near its palace and filled it with terrifying monsters… All those who fell into disfavor were thrown into this dungeon to rot… The demon also had three dragon pets: Hooktail, Gloomtail, and Bonetail. These dragons flew across the land, spreading fear and sorrow over all. Even now, the mere mention of a dragon is enough to give some the terrors…"

"One day, there came a hero who could vanquish the fell demon. The young Toad from Petal Meadows was strong of arm, but shy of voice… All those around the boy teased him endlessly about the way he spoke. But when the demon cast its fearful gaze across the lands and reached out… The young Toad used his strength and honor to defend his people. And he became a hero to all, despite his odd voice."

"There was a wise Goomba from Boggly Woods gifted in knowledge of the world. When beasts rose to take the woods, this knowledge helped the people fight them. And this Goomba, who knew the way that every monster would attack… She began to think of a way to banish all monsters from the land…"

"A Koopa who traveled the world alone learned of the darkness covering the land… He went alone wherever evil dwelt, and banished it with shell and sheer bravado. The monsters grew to fear this scar-riddled Koopa who thwarted them at every turn. But the brave Koopa was finally taken in a trap set for him by the monsters. But then, a Boo who fought with the monsters came and used her magic to free him. The brave Koopa's spirit had melted the heart of the cold Boo lass…"

"The Boo used her powerful magic to learn more about the evil they faced… 'We cannot destroy this darkness alone,' she decided, her face a grim mask. 'We need the Toad hero of Petal Meadows and the wise Goomba of Boggly Woods.' The Boo's magic drew the four heroes together to send the demon from the world. And so, the four heroes finally set out for the Palace of Shadow…"

"The power of the world-devouring demon was greater than any could imagine… But the wise Goomba soon realized that this was the power of the Crystal Stars… She thought of a way to take the stars and use them against the demon. She told the other heroes her plan and set it in motion, banishing their fears. The Boo's magic and the Toad's strength created a gap in the demon's defenses… At that moment, the brave Koopa seized the stars… And succeeded in badly damaging the demon…"

"But even the brave Koopa's stroke was not enough to end the demon's reign… The wise Goomba thought of another use for the Crystal Stars in that dire hour… She suggested sealing the demon forever with the Crystal Stars. All agreed. The heroes matched their strengths with the power of the Crystal Stars… And they successfully sealed the demon's soul within the deepest part of the palace. Together, they made it so that only all seven stars could break the seal…"

"The four heroes thought they had sealed away the demon and all of its powers… But the demon used a tiny opening before the seal was complete to curse them all. While holding the Crystal Stars, they'd feel nothing, but when they let them go… A black box would appear to seal their souls within. The four heroes traveled the world, scattering the stars so the seal would remain. But the last four stars each carried the curse, which claimed each hero…"

"The hiding places of many of the Crystal Stars have now faded into legend. But some say that the wise Goomba hid one in the Great Tree. At that time, many monsters wandered in the nearby Boggly Woods. The tiny Punies were always tormented by their fierce appetites, it was said. Pitying them, the Goomba hollowed out the Great Tree for the Punies to live in. The Punies were so grateful that they swore to protect the Crystal Star there…"

"Once the Boo heroine hid her star in a steeple, she was trapped in the nearby town… Some say the Crystal Star lies in that steeple still…"

"The Koopa hero went to a southern isle to hide his star where none would find it. But the Koopa was so tired from his journey that the pirate king Cortez stole it easily. In that very instant, the Koopa was trapped in an inescapable chest. But Cortez did not realize the power of the star and lost it among his treasures…"

"The strong Toad held his star and continued his arduous journey. But eventually the miles took their toll upon him, and he collapsed. A traveling healer happened by and saved his life… But the Toad knew his fate was to be trapped in the box when the star was gone… So he asked this healer to hide the star in a secret place known to no one…"

"After the demon was sealed within the Palace of Shadow… Many refused to come near that place of terror. But as the years passed, entire generations forgot… And the penniless and the immoral began to congregate in this once-barren place… This place soon became a populous harbor, the town of Rogueport… And some even began to say that the underground city held a legendary treasure. But they were unaware that the demon slept beneath them still…"

"The heroes knew that the seal might not last forever… And they sought to make the Crystal Stars available to one who might need them… So, before going to their individual dooms, they made a map to all the stars. And to prevent an evil force from misusing this map… They placed it in a box that could only be opened by the pure of heart."

...

"Well, there you have it. Those are the events that have lead up to where we are today."

"Soon, the Thousand-Year Door will re-open & the demon will rise once again."

"I sense the power of Crystal Stars in your possession. I wonder... Could you & your friends be the new heroes that are destined to save the world?"

"In any case, I wish you safe travels. Good luck out there."

_______________________________________________

THE END

[vinceviralfreak]

Title: The Final Confrontation: Grim Ripper vs The Devil and His Demons

Chapter 1: The Awakening

In the darkest corners of the underworld, a sinister plot was brewing. The Devil, ruler of Hell, had grown tired of the Grim Ripper's relentless pursuit of lost souls. Determined to put an end to his reign, the Devil summoned his most malevolent demons to devise a plan to eliminate the Grim Ripper once and for all.

Chapter 2: The Gathering Storm

As the Grim Ripper continued his eternal task of guiding souls to the afterlife, he sensed a disturbance in the balance between good and evil. Unbeknownst to him, the Devil's demons were spreading chaos and despair among the living, corrupting innocent souls and turning them into vessels of darkness.

Chapter 3: The Unholy Alliance

The Devil, cunning and manipulative, approached the Grim Ripper with an offer he couldn't refuse. He proposed a truce, suggesting that they join forces to bring chaos upon the mortal realm. The Grim Ripper, aware of the Devil's deceitful nature, declined the offer, vowing to protect the souls he was entrusted with.

Chapter 4: The Battle Begins

Enraged by the Grim Ripper's defiance, the Devil unleashed his demons upon the world. The once peaceful towns and cities were now consumed by darkness, as the demons wreaked havoc and terrorized the innocent. The Grim Ripper, armed with his scythe and unwavering determination, embarked on a perilous journey to confront the Devil and his minions.

Chapter 5: The Descent into Hell

Guided by an ancient prophecy, the Grim Ripper descended into the depths of Hell, a treacherous realm filled with fire and brimstone. Along the way, he encountered grotesque creatures and faced unimaginable horrors, testing his resolve and strength. With each step, the Grim Ripper grew closer to his ultimate showdown with the Devil.

Chapter 6: The Final Confrontation

In the heart of Hell, the Grim Ripper finally confronted the Devil. A battle of epic proportions ensued, as the Grim Ripper fought valiantly against the Devil's demonic army. With each swing of his scythe, he severed the ties that bound the demons to their master, freeing the corrupted souls from their eternal torment.

Chapter 7: Redemption and Sacrifice

As the battle raged on, the Grim Ripper realized that defeating the Devil would require a sacrifice. With a heavy heart, he made the ultimate decision to sacrifice himself, plunging his scythe into the Devil's heart. In that moment, the Devil's power was shattered, and the demons were banished back to the depths of Hell.

Chapter 8: The Aftermath

With the Devil defeated, the world slowly began to heal. The Grim Ripper's sacrifice had restored balance and brought peace to the mortal realm. Though he was gone, his legacy lived on, as his spirit continued to guide lost souls towards their final resting place.

Epilogue: The Eternal Guardian

In the realm beyond, the Grim Ripper found himself reborn as the eternal guardian of the afterlife. Forever vigilant, he watched over the souls of the departed, ensuring their safe passage into the unknown. His battle against the Devil and his demons had come to an end, but his duty would continue for all eternity.

Note: The novel is written in a no-style format, allowing the story to unfold naturally without adhering to any specific writing style. The language used is English, providing a seamless reading experience for horror enthusiasts.

[dulfyrthedark]

Story 14

As Dulfyr sat in the Tower with his fiancee Rohneir, his sister Fen, and her boyfriend Whisper, the news of Oryx's Dreadnaught orbiting Saturn had spread throughout the Tower. The Vanguard had called for a team to infiltrate the ship and stop Oryx before he could destroy the entire system. Dulfyr knew he had to answer the call to action, but the thought of leaving his loved ones behind weighed heavily on his heart.

As he sat in the courtyard, gazing out over the Last City, he heard the sounds of gunfire and explosions in the distance. The Taken had invaded Earth, and the Guardians were fighting back against the alien menace. Dulfyr knew that he had to act fast if he was to have any chance of saving his home.

He rushed to the Hangar and commandeered a jumpship, determined to join the fight against the Taken. As he soared through the atmosphere, he saw the devastation that had been wrought by Oryx's minions. The landscape was scarred and torn, buildings lay in ruins, and the air was thick with smoke and ash.

Upon landing in the Blast, Dulfyr quickly made his way to the Fallen House of Devils' lair. He fought his way through waves of Taken and Fallen, determined to retrieve the stealth drive that would allow him to infiltrate the Dreadnaught undetected. With the drive in hand, he returned to the Tower, where he met up with his companions.

Together, they boarded Eris Morn's jumpship and set a course for the Dreadnaught. As they approached, the stealth drive malfunctioned, and the ship was locked onto by the superweapon. Dulfyr watched in horror as the jumpship was destroyed, but he managed to warp onto the Dreadnaught just in time.

He quickly realized that he was not alone on the Dreadnaught. The Taken were everywhere, and they were fiercely guarding the energy links that powered the super weapon. Dulfyr and his companions fought their way through wave after wave of the enemy, their weapons blazing as they battled for their lives.

As they destroyed each energy link, the super weapon's power began to wane. Finally, it shut down for good, and Dulfyr knew that they had succeeded in their mission. But their victory was short-lived, as they soon discovered a Skyburner Warship rammed into the Dreadnaught's hull, locked in a brutal battle with the Hive and the Taken.

Dulfyr and his companions established a transmat zone and joined the fray. They fought with all their might, taking down a Goliath tank and pushing the enemy back.

Their goal was to find and stop Oryx, the Taken King, and put an end to his reign of terror. They had heard stories of his power, of the destruction he wrought upon worlds, and they knew that they had to stop him before he reached Earth.

Dulfyr had a plan. He would establish a transmat zone that would allow them to move quickly and efficiently across the Dreadnaught, Oryx's massive flagship. They would take down the Goliath tank, a fearsome weapon that guarded the entrance to the ship, and then proceed inside.

With Cayde-6's help, they managed to infiltrate the gunship and retrieve the information they needed. They learned of a portal, a Rupture, that led directly to Oryx's throne room. The only problem was that the Rupture could only be traveled by those with Ascendant status, a rare and dangerous state of being.

Eris Morn, a former Guardian and expert on the Hive, told them how to become Ascendant. They would need to find and absorb the power of Crota's Soul, the son of Oryx and a powerful Hive god.

The journey to the Soul of Crota was treacherous. They used Cayde-6's stealth tech to infiltrate the Temple of Crota, but it failed them when they were ambushed by Taken. Eris Morn did her best to get them out safely, but they were outnumbered and outgunned.

They fought their way through waves of Taken and finally escaped the Temple with the power they needed to become Ascendant. With this newfound power, they were able to travel to the Rupture and fight off the waves of Taken that guarded it.

Once they had defeated the Taken, the Rupture activated and they were teleported to an unknown location. But the Guardian, fueled by their determination and newfound power, quickly found the next Rupture that would lead them to Oryx's throne room.

The journey was not easy. They faced two of Oryx's best warriors and barely emerged victorious. But their determination never wavered, and they finally reached Oryx's throne room.

The battle that followed was epic, the clash of light against dark, of determination against pure evil. The Guardian fought with all their might, knowing that the fate of the galaxy hung in the balance.

In the end, they succeeded in stopping Oryx, but only weakened him. He managed to escape, using the power of his swords to teleport away before he could be destroyed.

The Guardians were left battered and bruised, but their determination was stronger than ever. They knew that they would have to continue the fight against Oryx, to stop him once and for all and save the galaxy from his tyranny. And so they set out once again, their determination burning like a bright flame in the darkness.

[posttexasstressdisorder]

VOTE LIKE YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT, BECAUSE IT FUCKING DOES!

[barid-bel-medar]

Prompt the second from @gentrychild: AU where Yoichi was kept alive and immortal.

The absolute kicker is that AFO has no clue for the longest time that Yoichi is alive and well. He didn't intentionally give him that immortality Quirk after all, and Yoichi did a good job of faking his death (at the hands on a particularly stupid minion of AFO's). One For All is still passed to Second, but Yoichi unwittingly keeps the sparks and kindles it back to strength (eventually).

It finally get's out when Dr. Garaki is very surprised by the appointment over one Midoriya Izuku, who looks an awful lot like his Lord All For One, even though he knows All For One doesn't have any crotch goblins. Or rather he does, but Kaina is much older and has no children herself. So he does a little test and um. Sir? We may have minor situation.

Yoichi and All For One end up throwing hands in the middle of a Mcdonald's parking lot at three am, screaming about terrible siblings, shitty world conquest plans, and no shit he's not going to tell you he got married and had a kid, fuck off! All Might is incredibly confused watching this, but decides to fight on Yoichi's side, because fuck All For One.

All For One is forced to retreat and lick is wounds in a broken down Dunkin Donuts, bemoaning terrible little brothers who don't understand being vaulted is for their own good! Yoichi explains who he is to All Might, recognizing both a) the latest OFA user and b) that Izuku will kill him via sad puppy eyes if he doesn't get an autograph

Toshinori is having a truly strange day, in meeting the original One for All user in person, meeting his very sweet wife and cute kid, and getting to beat the paste out of AFO, but it's all good! This can be good! Now hopefully they can turn the tide on AFO and end his Reign of Terror for good!

[hyperfixat]

hi i wrote this in thirty minutes and im probably going to make it a full fic and put it on ao3.. jus wanted to share.

Edit She is freed from my Docs. Link at bottom

gabriel x reader 💕💗💖💞💓

gender neutral reader

…

Gabriel never had much of a taste for humanity, cancer of the realms. They’re blight and he simply seeks to extinguish their reign on Earth.

It seems as though he was the only one that truly saw what the terrible humans do, evil acts full of malice upon innocents happen too often for there to be hope for the species. He has to take matters into his own hands it seems. Gabriel’s time spent in the Human Realm is short and quick. He allows enough time for his minions to spawn from his essence, rarely he stops to terrorize humanity himself.

No, he has much greater things to take care of. His halo flickers in and out of multiple dimensions whenever he summons it. His wings are turning grey, and it’s getting harder to keep up appearances with other angels.

Luckily these adverse effects from taking the Earth into his own hands seem to diminish when he takes his true form, one with many eyes, many hoops, and few feathers. The only thing that could draw suspicion when he’s like this is his eyes, clouding over in a milky white. It isn’t often he takes on his purest form, though. He’s safe, for the time being, that is.

When all of time and space has multiple all knowing Gods, secrets rarely remain such, and after a few human years (a mere speck in relation to Gabriel’s lifespan) he gets cast from the ranks of the Gods.

It wasn’t fair, the others don’t believe him, they don’t help him, they think he’s wrong.

Anger is fuel.

The Light Bringer offered condolences, he too was cast away, an unjust act.

Gabriel stewed in his anger, and much like gasoline and fire he was doomed to explode sooner or later.

The time came when Gabriel couldn’t hold his rage and spite anymore. He stepped into the realm of humanity. They haven't changed a bit, he wasn’t surprised. He’s never wrong, still as much a plague as they were before. They’d progressed in their primitive ways, sure, but they were as horrible as he remembered them to be.

Shadows roll off of Gabriel in billowing gusts of smoke, joining the walls, floors, streets, of cities, helping humanity to its hideous end. There are churches and stores and homes around him, but no sight of the wretched race themselves.

A relief, his minions wouldn’t be caught forming. Few of them were left on the planet, which was to be expected, almost two millennia passed from his last visit.

A new batch of horror to fight the blight. They’re stronger this time, formed from hate, and filled with malacie.

Humanity is dumb, Gabriel watches them from his pocket dimision that has the most delightful view into the realm where they reside.

Perhaps twenty years have passed and his lovely minions did their jobs well. The Earth lived in fear, as it should, but their numbers dwindle.

It forms a pattern, every two decades he releases another batch of his righteous soldiers onto humanity. He never stops to stare, he could do that in private, and that he does.

Gabriel follows the lives of the populus, he’s obsessed with his purpose to destroy them. He takes glee and joy during their self inflicted massacres, sometimes his minions didn’t even have to lure them into fighting. Such violent creatures they are.

With such a close eye on the Earth, he’s bound to notice outliers, but he doesn’t do much to stop their destruction along with the rest of their species, not until he saw them.

Perhaps it was an infatuation, but the moment he saw them he knew that this one, this one human was the exception.

All of humanity is an illness and this one is the cure. He wouldn’t use them to safe humanity, no, but he could save them from humanity.

Gabriel sent out a no hit order almost instantly, and his focus was drawn away from world events to the little human.

[oh-no-a-whovian]

Only a matter of time

18+

Pairing: Ashoka Tano x fem reader

Warnings: mentions of kidnapping  (if there’s others let me know)

Wordcount:1432

Masterlist

you hate waiting. You hate trying to continue your life as if nothing is wrong, as if you’re not worried that you’ll never see her again. Feeling like someone is holding your heart in their fist, threatening to tear it from your chest.

You know Ashoka can take care of herself, she was trained as a jedi for years, learning to fight and use the force. But that doesn’t stop you from worrying every time she goes to a new place to help those in need. as time passes more, day by day, you fear the worst, afraid that whatever villain she faces now will win. You don’t think you can handle it if she dies.

You haven’t told her that you worry every time she leaves, or that your heart races when she returns. She doesn’t know about the flutter in your stomach or the swell in your heart when you see her. She doesn’t know that you love her.

You want to kiss her, to hold her. Every time she returns you want to tell her you love her. You can’t bring yourself to tell her though, certain she doesn’t feel the same. There’s no way you’re going to make things awkward and ruin your friendship with her. You can handle only being her friend for the rest of your life but the thought of losing her tears you apart.

Years ago, you were one of the many she saved, your life being threatened by some drug lord that thought he could buy your loyalty, your love. No matter how many times you told him no, that no matter what price he offers, you’re not interested, he just upped the amount and asked again. If he offered you the world you still would have told him to kriff off. The more you said no though, the angrier he got. Eventually he just snapped, paying someone to take you from your home instead, locking you up in a cage so you couldn’t say no anymore.

You were beyond grateful when Ashoka bust down the door, ridding the galaxy of his minions then him. she hadn’t even come for you, didn’t know the bastard even had someone captive. He’d been having people killed and ruining people’s lives with his drugs, profiting from their suffering.

She froze when she saw you, standing behind bars in a rather revealing dress as you watched her. At that moment you were unsure if she was a hero there to end his reign of terror or one of his competitors removing him from the market. She seemed to read you so easily, deactivating her white light sabres and hooking them to her belt before approaching you and using the force to unlock the bars.

You remember how gentle she was with you as she freed you, so worried that one wrong move would make you break. You reassured her though that she had gotten to you in time, that you were fine. She placed her cloak over your shoulders, wrapping you in the warmth left from her body and covering your barely dressed form, keeping you comfortable as she took you home.

You had no idea how far the bastard had taken you and you were surprised to learn he’d taken you to a town nearly four hours from your home. She tried to get a speeder working but they were all far too damaged to be any use. So for four hours you walked together, talking about basic things. She didn’t trust you at the time, unwilling to share anything too personal but you shared everything with her. On that day she was your hero.

Since she saved you that day, she has visited for a couple weeks every few months, saying she just needs a place to rest for a bit. You offered the spare room in your house and as her visits became more frequent or longer, your feelings became stronger. Though it took you a while, you realised you were head over heels for the beautiful Togruta.

This time she’s been gone for nearly eight months, off fighting some crime lord holding a village hostage or something. Each day you watch the street as you make drinks and treats as a street food vendor, selling to the market bustle through a window. Every time you see a Togruta’s motrals peeking out above the crowd, your heart races for a moment before you realise you don’t recognise the pattern. You always sigh sadly when you realise it’s not her, upset that your mind keeps getting excited and hopeful only for you to be disappointed.

You close the shutter to the street, pressing the button to lock it as you make your way into your home from the shop. You head straight for the fresher, tiredly stripping your clothes and tossing them onto the tiled floor. As you step under the warm mist, sighing as the tension from the day seeps away, you hear the familiar beeping of the door keypad.

You turn off the mist and freeze listening as the door slides open then shut again. Not many people have the code to your home and your head races through the different people who it could be at this time, terrified that it's another person here to kidnap you, since the bastards last time got the code somehow.

you step out of the fresher as quiet as you can, wrapping your body in your towel and grabbing the pole you keep hidden in the vanity. With gentle steps you walk down the hallway, the piece of metal held high in your hand as you creep forward. You jump around the corner into the sitting room at the sound of items being shifted, ready to smack whoever entered your home.

The weapon falls from your hand clattering to the ground at the sight of the familiar Togruta in your living space.

“Ashoka” you breathe out, holding the towel more firmly to your bust, your cheeks going red.  She smirks at you, glancing at the metal pole laying useless on the ground and using the force to lift it into her hand.

“Thought I told you to get something more substantial” she muses, shifting the piece of metal in her hand, glaring at the barely harmful item. Her body is wrapped in a warm black sleeveless turtleneck and thick leggings, a dark hooded cloak clasped at her collarbone. “This will do nothing against an actual intruder.”

“it’s my emergency fresher weapon, for when I’m naked” you shrug, stepping up to her and gently taking it from her. “Not all of us can have fancy lightsabers.” You smile, comparing her features to your memory after so long without her around. “I was starting to worry I’d never see you again” you admit, looking to the ground as you fiddle with the pipe. Honestly you were worried the moment she left, just like every other time she goes.

“I think you should know by now…” she says warmly, lifting your chin with the tips of her fingers, making you look into her beautiful blue eyes. “I’ll always come back to you.”

“wha…” your mind goes blank at the sight of her smile and her fingers under your chin. She’s looking at you in a way you haven’t seen before, from anyone. Her eyes are hooded and filled with affection, glancing between your eyes and lips.

“I missed you” she tells you, brushing her thumb back and forth just below your lip. “I could feel your worry. Systems away and I could feel you.”

“You knew how….”

“I knew how you felt, how you feel” she moves closer, her hand drifting up to cup your cheek, her fingers threading into the edges of your hair. “I didn’t realise I felt it too, until I spent this last eight months away from you.”

Your heart races at her words, at the feeling of her warm palm against your cheek and the love in her eyes. Her face is so close to yours and you don’t want to wait another second. You shift forward without a second thought, pressing your lips to hers.

You wonder briefly if this is a dream, if you’re actually lying asleep in your bed wishing that she was back and that she loves you too. But as she lifts you with a surprising amount of strength, wrapping your legs around her waist as she pins you to the wall behind you, you know this isn’t some fantasy.

Ashoka has come home, and she loves you too.

A/N: I absolutely love Ashoka! Although I’m bi I realised I don’t really have any FxF fics so it’s time I start fixing that! Remember! Like and reblog to share the love!!!

[strsburn]

destiny led me to you | loki

pairing - loki laufeyson x female reader

synopsis - driven by the heartbreak of losing your entire world by the hands of thanos, you set out to find him, leaving destruction in your path in multiple universes; thus creating a horde of branches in the timeline and catching the attention of the TVA.

but you would do it all again if it meant you could see him once more.

notes - this is hopefully going to be a series, depending on the feedback i receive, i plan to follow the episodes only slightly because i dont want it to be an exact copy of the show.

[THIS WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR LOKI SERIES]

idea credit ( @horrorisunknowntoyou ) thank you for the inspo and allowing me to run with it!

warnings - death, violence, angst, and possible smut (in later chapters?)

wc - 2.4k

MASTERLIST • AO3

"Dread it, run from it. Destiny arrives all the same." A wrinkled hand reaches for your chin, running prune colored fingers along your jawline, doting; mockingly.

Your heartbeat pulses loudly in your ears, eyes glazing over with exhaustion and pain as you attempt to glare, the notion in vain as the titan merely chuckled amusedly.

"I can see great power in you, little one. An infinity stone pulses beneath your every vein. Tell me, where is the tesseract?"

You remain silent.

"We don't have the tesseract, it was destroyed along with all of Asgard." Thor interjects weakly from where he lies, his body held tightly in the arms of the black order.

Guilt sweeps across your being as you make eye contact with Loki, sharing a single nod as you both know what you must do.

Thanos grows annoyed with your unwillingness to comply as he walks over with loud steps, his footprints visible as he raises his gauntlet up, the power stone shining threateningly close to Thor.

"The tesseract, or your brother's head. I assume you have a preference." It's not a question. Merely a statement, one that Loki knows he must prove unbothered.

"Oh, I do. Kill away." To anyone else it would seem he couldn't care less about his brother's demise, but you know your love better than he does himself and you catch the glance of fear that washes over cerulean eyes.

You can only watch in trepidation as the stone makes contact with the God's head. Agonized cries escaping as his skin is burned by the mere power of the stone.

Loki does his best to look unaffected, but you catch the hitch in his breath as he batters inner turmoil. the universe, or his brother.

"Alright, that's enough!"

Loki turns his palm up, as a familiar blue cube materializes in his hand. The eerie blue glow casting a shadow upon his face.

Thanos steps away, smug. You force yourself to look away from Thor's accusing gaze.

"You truly are the worst, brother." Thor shakes his head, eyes disappointed but not surprised.

As Thanos moves to take the stone from his hand cerulean blue eyes make contact with your own and you feel a wave of fear wash over you as you recognize the look in Loki's eyes.

"I assure you, brother. The sun will shine on us again." He does not move his gaze from your own and you can't help but feel this is an unspoken goodbye.

"Your optimism is misplaced, asgardian."

"Well, for one thing, I'm not asgardian. For another, we have a hulk."

In a blur of color you are shoved from where you lie, a slithe figure covering your own as you breathe in the familiar scent of cinnamon and leather.

"We don't have much time, my love. I just want you to know that I love you dearly, and I am grateful for the time I had with you. May I see you again, in Valhalla." His eyes are teary and you barely process his words, as his hands grab hold of your face and pull you into a kiss.

The kiss is desperate, filled with love and grief and you can only briefly kiss your love back as he steps closer to Thanos, rambling on about undying fidelity.

You catch a glimpse of silver behind his back and you gasp as realization sets in.

You move to reach him just as he leaps for Thanos, the knife poised for his head, frozen in mid air as the stones across his knuckles pulse.

"Undying fidelity, you should choose your words more wisely."

You cry out as Loki struggles in his grip, his skin fading blue. You crawl forward, legs aching as you reach for him, your progress hinged by your inability to walk.

"You will never be a god." The rasped words are followed by a snap as his neck gives out beneath Thanos' hands.

A tortured scream rings out and it takes you a second to realize it's your own. A broken sob leaves you as you crawl forward to reach where Thanos has carelessly thrown the body of your love.

You heave as your shaky fingers caress his face, his lifeless eyes staring ahead as you clutch him to your chest.

You rock back and forth knotting your fingers in his hair as you plead for the nightmare to end.

"No resurrections this time."

A portal opens and closes behind you, yet you make no motion to move.

You simply close your eyes and welcome the sweet release of death as the universe explodes around you.

N E W Y O R K 2 0 1 2

"'Coordinates for search and rescue, on my way now.' I mean honestly, how-" Loki is promptly shut up by the mouth guard that decorates his face, courtesy of his brother.

Displeasure makes an appearance as Loki is led to the elevator followed by the avengers that quickly file in. The only source of entertainment being the temper tantrum the green beast throws as he is denied entry. Loki can hardly contain his glee as he waves mockingly as the doors close.

As he is led to the ground floor his cuffed hands clinking annoyingly with every step he glances wearily around himself, dreading the lecture that is sure to come once he reaches asgard. He has no doubt in his mind that Odin will find perfect reason to throw him to the wolves, lest his mother get involved.

As he contemplates, his attention is caught by the sound of his brother calling for help, the guards holding him, attending to what he perceives to be a heart attack, to none other than the man of metal.

He watches, confused as a small stature kicks the case holding the tesseract away from view as the others tend to Stark.

Looking around bemused he watches to see what will conspire next. Before any other move can be made a shout is heard as the doors to the staircase along with the wall is torn apart, the hulk making his distaste for the tedious activity known.

For once since meeting the beast he feels thankful, as the case holding the tesseract is knocked open, the familiar cube sliding towards his foot.

A beat passes and grabbing a hold of the familiar cube he glances around, vanishing in a thin cloud of blue.

T V A U N K N O W N

Hurried footsteps echo down the corridor as the man moves with barely contained excitement. Tie swinging to and fro, a slightly wrinkled hand pulls at the collar of his neck nervously.

Mobius had seen many variants in his time at the TVA. Yet, none had ever come close to interesting as the file he currently held in one hand. Variant L1130 or Loki, as he was called, was perhaps one of the most complicated cases he had come across.

Born as a legend of mythology it was quite unbelievable to know that not only was he real, but he happened to be in their custody for creating a new branch in the timeline. Mobius could only hope Renslayer would agree to allowing him to be the God's superior.

Entering the courtroom, Mobius sits down and watches with rapt attention as Loki attempts to bargain with Ravonna. His plans are foiled as he tries to call upon his magic in a last effort to escape.

Mobius feels it's time to intervene when Renslayer makes it clear he is to be executed.

"You have no idea what I am capable of!"

"Actually I might have an idea of what he is capable of." He offers as he makes his way up to the stand.

His plea must be written across his face as Ravonna leans over to look at him directly.

"Whatever you're planning, it's a bad idea." She warns.

Nonetheless she reluctantly lets him go and Mobius has to fight off the urge to fist pump the air as he escorts Loki down the hallway.

"Oh, I'm Agent Mobius by the way." He offers a hand that is quickly ignored.

He can practically see the distrust written on Loki's face, his eyes calculating every move he makes.

Mobius is hardly surprised that as soon as he enters the room, his back turned to the God as he adjusts his projector, Loki is surging forward to attack. He doesn't even bat an eyelash as he clicks a button on his remote, resetting the God as if the action never even happened.

"C'mon, let's take a look at some of your greatest hits." Mobius waves a hand, as Loki curiously sits down, eyes trained on the projector.

He finds himself staring back at a hologram of his attack on New York. His blue eyes darting back and forth with glee as chaos erupts around him.

A feeling of something akin to shame runs down his spine as he recalls his reign of terror on the city, an illusion of preying on the weak to hide his own fear, lest he fail and succumb to Thanos and his minions.

Loki clenches his jaw, arms crossing over his form in an attempt to hide himself as he turns to avoid the screen.

"I see no point in this-"

"No, no wait, this is just getting good." Mobius grins as he points to the screen and Loki finds himself once again face to face with another variation of himself.

He briefly recalls the time he had lost a bet to Thor and had to change his form into that of a ginger haired man wearing a clean three piece suit, claiming he had a bomb and required over two hundred thousand in midgardian money just to see if he could pull it off. He did, in fact, pull it off, but his mother was not happy as well as the midgardians who failed to solve the case, naming him D.B. Cooper as they had no clue as to his real identity.

His attention is pulled to the screen as a familiar voice of silk enters the scene and he watches as his mother speaks to his future self, his eyes drawn into her face.

"Then am I not your mother?" He hears her ask. Yes, you are.

"No. You are not." Loki's eyes start to mist as he watches the look of hurt pass over his mother's features before she schools her expression into one of contempt.

"Always so perceptive, about everyone but yourself." She decides.

The screen flickers and he sees himself talking to an intruder, his voice amused as he suggests the monster to take the stairs to the left.

Then, his mother, Frigga, lying on the cold ground, a puddle of red growing rapidly beneath her body as her eyes remained closed.

His breath hitches, anger now licking up his spine. He turns sharply to Mobius who smartly remains silent.

"What is this! Some cruel joke? Where is she?! Where do you have her?"

Mobius steps forward, expression neutral as he speaks.

"She's dead Loki. This is the future, it's destined to happen, again and again because that's how it should be."

Loki falters his eyes narrowing as he spits "You're lying! I'll kill you!"

"What? Like you killed your mother."

There's a split second of silence before an angered shout is heard, a chair splitting the air as it crashes into pieces along the floor.

Before anything else can be said Mobius is summoned by Hunter B-15, his eyes falling to Loki who remains silent and he leaves with a slight tinge of guilt burrowing in his chest at the haunted look in the God's eyes.

"You think yourself so sly don't you." Loki looks up at the unfamiliar voice as the projector suddenly comes to life, a new image flicking gently on screen. His eyes catch upon your form and he watches in awe and wonder as you sit beside his future self.

"I don't think, love. I know." He grins leaning in to steal a kiss from you that leaves you both breathless.

He watches as your eyes are filled with nothing but love and adoration for him as you lean into his side.

"Loki?"

"Yes, darling?"

"Do you believe in soulmates?"

Loki tilts his head in contemplation as he looks to you, before a soft grin pulls at his lips.

"I didn't until I met you. I know that no matter who or what tries to tear us apart, we will always find a way back to each other."

A smile breaks out onto your face and Loki watches in stunned silence as the clip ends with the two of your voices fading into laughter.

"You two are meant to be together."

Loki turns as Mobius slowly comes to a stop behind him, his expression thoughtful.

"I don't enjoy hurting people you know." He responds, motioning towards the screen in reference to his attack on New York and the death of his mother.

Mobius doesn't respond, and he takes that as a sign to continue.

"I do it because I have to. Because I've had to." He looks down as he fiddles with his fingers.

Mobius hums as he replies.

"Why? Why do you think that is?"

"It's part of the illusion. It's the cruel, elaborate trick conjured by the weak to inspire fear."

Realization lights up in Mobius' eyes as he answers back.

"A desperate play for control. You do know yourself."

"A villain." Loki sums up.

"Not the way I see it."

There's a mutual silence between them before Mobius sighs.

"Look I can't offer you salvation but I can offer you something better. A fugitive variant has been killing our minutemen."

"And let me guess, you need the God of Mischief to help you stop him."

"That's right."

"How could I possibly be of use to you?"

"That's the thing. The variant we are hunting, we believe is y/n." Mobius looks towards the projector where your image is still.

"I beg your pardon?"

U N K N O W N

Mutilated bodies line the floor as a hooded figure steps over them, eyes glowing an unnatural hue.

"Is it finished?"

"Yes."

A wicked laugh fills the empty space as a portal opens in the deserted land, a set of footsteps following through.

"I'm coming for you, my love."