#id be so quick to abandon lance for her

[highonchocolate]

Take Two: The Guardian in Gotham Chapter 6

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Notes: 

Trigger warning: self hatred, and demeaning thoughts towards oneself. Skip the bold text if that’s a trigger. Also blood and descriptions of fighting. Skip the first paragraph if that’s a trigger. When the speech is in italics, that means they are speaking in another language. I will say which one it is, so you can know because there are two other languages.

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The room was shrouded in an ethereal darkness. Marinette looked around and screamed at the ghostly form of Chat Blanc lurking in the flickering shadows of the balcony. His bloodstained white hands reached for her as ice blue eyes gleamed with dark energy. She raised her arm to block the blow before shoving him away and running for the door. Her hands grasped desperately for the handle as a large hand grabbed her by the hair and threw her to the side. She stumbled back into the dresser, and with a snarl he lunged. A flash of light on gleaming claws, and then there was nothing but blood and hurt and the rasping sounds of her shallow, fading, breaths. She heard the ‘whoosh’ of a boot slicing through air, and felt a crack as it connected with her ribs. Knife sharp pain lanced through her chest, and she choked on her blood as he smirked down at her. He tuned and brought one red stained finger to his mouth before smiling at the taste and disappearing from the room. Too late. She thought as he vanished in the warm light of the sunrise. Too late. Then her vision went dark and she knew no more.

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Marinette woke up screaming. Looking at the dark room around her she nearly fell out of bed in her haste to turn on the table lamp. As the dim light flooded the room, she sat up and hugged her knees to her chest, eyes flickering to corners in a search for shadows that weren’t there. She stayed like that, trembling and shaking with muffled sobs as the Kwami tried to comfort her, for almost an hour before she felt confident enough to move. 

Even then, when she eased into her wheelchair, she stayed away from the balcony, and kept her eyes firmly on her sewing. The repetitive motions soothed her as she worked, and calmed her rattled mind. When her alarm for 6:30 began blaring, she stopped working and got ready for school. 

Looking in the mirror, she made eye contact with herself and winced at her appearance. Deep bags were under her eyes, and her gaze was shadowed with the memories of her nightmare. She grabbed her concealer and got to work. She moved to let her hair down, and then flinched as the memories of Chat Blanc assaulted her mind.* She knew Adrien would never hurt her, but sometimes she would look at him, and all she could see was a world that had drowned and a shattered moon hanging in the sky.

Shuddering, she hugged herself around the waist before tying her hair into her signature pigtails.

The familiar actions calmed her down enough that she could manage to make her way downstairs. Her body felt heavy, and she was both exhausted and wide awake. She wheeled into the room, and was immediately met with several pairs of blue eyes looking her way. Blue eyes….

Tikki nudged her softly through her pocket. At the gesture, she steeled herself and pushed past the memories to make eye contact with everyone and smile. Then she sat down, and the flood of horrors suffocated her again. Moving on autopilot, she mechanically ate her breakfast before wheeling to the car, not noticing the concerned glances of the family. 

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Damian was not worried. 

He simply noticed that when Dupain-Cheng had walked into the room, she had flinched slightly upon making eye contact with everyone in the family. Everyone in the family but him and Alfred. She had forced a smile onto her face a second later, and as she ate, she seemed to not notice the rest of her surroundings. Father had called her name three times, and she had not responded even once. Then she had taken her plate to the sink, and wheeled to the car without even looking at any of them. 

So no, he was not worried, just curious.

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As the car pulled up to Gotham Academy, Marinette felt her fear rise. Would this school be just like her old one? Spoiled bullies and liars getting her into trouble? What if her classmates hated her? What if they called her a charity case? ‘It would be true, though.’ She laughed bitterly to herself. ‘Poor Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Can’t even deal with a single bully, so she has to escape to a county all the way across the ocean.’ She clawed her way out of the self loathing enough to open the door and climb out of the car. As she made her way into the school behind Damian, heard the whispers and glances of the students she passed in the hallways. Saw how their eyes lingered on the bruises that were still too painful to cover with makeup, how they focused on her stitches and glanced at her leg. She felt their pitying stares on her back as she wheeled into the office. 

The secretary, a young woman with long brunette hair, didn’t even look up as she entered the room. “How can I help you?” She snapped, all business as her fingers clacked at the keyboard. “My name is Marinette, um, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m a transfer student, and I need my schedule.” She muttered, feeling insecure at the poorly-disguised hostility rolling off the woman in waves. “Right, here you go. Make sure you’re not late, your first class starts in five minutes.” She snapped as she reached out with one hand to give her the schedule. “Thank you.” She mumbled before turning to leave. She didn’t even look away from the screen, only giving her an absentminded “Uh-huh, no problem.” Getting the message, Marinette turned and wheeled out the door.

As she made her way to her first class (Damian having left her at the office with barely a backward glance), Marinette thanked her Ladybug luck for giving her classes on the first floor. She stopped in front of her first class (Physics with Mr. Henway, how wonderful) and knocked twice before rolling in at the muffled “Yes, come in.” she heard. 

Opening the door, she surveyed the classroom and noticed nobody was looking at her-a stark contrast to the hallways where she had felt like an exhibit on display. She turned to the teacher, an older man with a stern grandfatherly air about him. “Hello sir, where should I sit?” She asked quietly.

He looked up when she spoke, and immediately let out a loud gasp that garnered most of the room’s attention. “Good golly child, what happened to you?! You look like you just went three rounds with one of Scarecrow's goons!” Feeling the incredulous stares of the people in the class, she shifted awkwardly in her seat and repeated her earlier question. 

Realizing she wasn’t going to answer, he sighed and motioned to a spot in the front row.

She took her place and tried to ignore her rising blush, and the rest of her classmate’s glances as he began teaching.

The rest of her classes passed in a similar manner: shocked teacher, repeated glances, quiet muttering she tried to ignore. She met a group of four other kids that were quick to latch on and include her in their conversations. She learned their names were Claude, Allegra, Bridgette, and Felix, and she hoped they would become friends. She ignored the voices hissing in her ear: ‘They’re going to abandon you. Nobody loves you. Everyone around you hates you. They all want you to go away. They’re just being polite to the new kid because they pity you.’ as she accepted their invitation to eat lunch with them. Even with her newfound friends, lunch was the worst, as the whole room kept looking at her. Felix and Allegra glared threateningly over her head as Bridgette and Claude tried to draw her into conversation. Feeling anxious, she ducked her head down, and ate quickly, trying to ignore everything. 

By the time school was over, she was drowning in a sea of insecurity and anxiety, and she barely heard Alfred call her name over the ringing in her ears. Latching on to his voice like a lifeline, she hurried into the car, and slumped against the seat with a shaky sigh. 

“What's wrong, Miss Marinette?” Alfred asked as they drove to the Manor. She heard Damian tut behind her and mutter “Can’t even get through one day at school.” Blushing with embarrassment, she quickly answered “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” Seeing his unconvinced stare, she hurried to add to her excuse. “There were just so many people, and it was kind of overwhelming. But I’m okay.” She saw him nod in acceptance, and let loose a relieved exhale as she leaned back in her seat and watched the buildings go by.

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She wheeled into the Manor, feeling relieved to get away from all the crowding and stares at school.  Making her way through the house, she gave Bruce a small wave as she passed him in the hallway. This day was totally awful. Nothing can make it any worse than it already is.’ She thought to herself as she entered the living room. Noticing Jason, Dick, and Tim watching a show, she lifted her hand to wave, but then brought it to her bag as her phone rang. Checking the caller ID, she smiled to see Chloé’s name flash across the screen. She nodded in greeting instead, and answered the call. 

“Hey Chloé, what’s up?” she spoke as she sat down on the couch next to Jason. “Maribug! Fu’s completely lost it!”  She shrieked over the phone. The sound was so loud, Marinette had to pull the phone away from her ear with a wince. “Tone it down a bit, Chlo. What do you mean?” She asked, trying to speak calmly. “He won’t stop mumbling to himself, and at random times he’ll just stare at the wall blankly!” The girl answered, though at a much quieter volume.  Marinette frowned and switched to French, hoping the others weren’t fluent. “Well, I think that behavior should be normal for a man that just had memories from over 150 years of his life erased.” Someone choked on air behind her. ‘So much for them not knowing French.’ She thought. She was totally screwed. Her thoughts were interrupted by Chloé speaking again. “No he says the Demon is coming!” Marinette paused. “Chloé,” she spoke carefully, “you need to tell me his exact words. Now.” Her voice hardened at the end; it was not a request. Sensing the importance, Chloé immediately became serious. “It was mostly mumbling, and I couldn’t make out most of what he said, but I heard something about Al Guhl, and eternal life.” Forget what she had thought earlier. Apparently there was something that could make this day worse. For being a Holder of Luck, she sure was unlucky. She tried to calm her breathing, and tried to keep the panic out of her voice. “You’re absolutely sure he said that? You weren’t just hearing things?” “Yeah, that's exactly what he said. Is something wrong?” Chloé responded, sounding worried. She let out a laugh, but it sounded strained. “Yes. If I’m hearing you correctly, Master Fu was talking about League of Assassins.” She spoke in the language of the Guardians to make sure the rest of the room didn’t understand her words. Chloé sucked in a breath before cursing loudly. “Yeah, we’re totally fucked.” Marinette muttered an agreement before ending the call. She dropped her head into her hands and groaned loudly at the thought of dealing with assassins on top of everything else. “Mari? Are you okay? That conversation was kind of concerning.” Dick questioned gently, looking supremely worried. Marinette smiled up at him. “No, everything’s good. I got it handled. Just some issues with...a mentor of mine. Nothing big.” She lied, before making up an excuse. “I have a lot of homework to do, so I’m going to go work on it.” She shot the three of them another fake grin, before wheeling out of the room without waiting for their response.

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Taglist: @laurcad123 (let me know if you want to be tagged)

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More Notes: *In the episode Chat Blanc, Marinette wore her hair down after the identity reveal, so I’m making that a trigger because she associates that with Adrien’s eventual akumatization. This is not an Adrien salt fic!! It’s just her own trauma making her fear him sometimes. Also, I know her wrist brace came off, but it’s still sore which is why she’s using the wheelchair instead of crutches. And in school we weren’t allowed to carry book bags (students might be hiding guns or weapons) so you had to carry your things around. In Gotham that would also be logical, so with that in mind it would be hard for Mari to get around with crutches and carry her things simultaneously.

[sarah--writes-blog]

Shifting Cycles

Anon: well i absolutely love any werewolf keith :D

A/N: Happy Birthday Keith! You are a precious bean, and this Halloween fic is dedicated to you <3

Keith was getting twitchy. Maybe his little moon tracker app on his phone was wrong. Maybe the full moon was actually tonight. That would explain the muscle spasms running up and down his back and the coarse hair that was starting to peek out of his arms and chin. Maybe he should call Kolivan.

Kolivan had become Keith’s impromptu mentor, ever since they both discovered their lycanthropic qualities. He easily adopted Keith into his pack, taking him under his wing (or paw), and teaching him the ways of being a werewolf.

But Kolivan was gone this month. This was evident by a number of times Keith got to voicemail. He often went on recruiting missions and territory markings to solidify his pack, and just before a full moon was the perfect time to renew their scents in the area. He can’t be bothered with just a pup, Keith thought to himself, scratching idly at the side of his cheeks. So he scrolled through the rest of his contacts, wondering who else he could call for advice.

Hunk was a no-go. Ever since Keith had accidentally given him that scare about a year ago, the big guy was a bit unsure about the whole werewolf situation. Lance was in the middle of a family reunion, he shouldn’t be bothered. Allura and Shiro actually had adult jobs and lives they had to tend to, and Pidge was away at a hacking convention, and that left her brother, Matt. Not Keith’s first choice, but no doubt he’d be knowledgeable. He dialed and watched his yellowing nails as the phone rang.

Matthew Holt wasn’t used to getting calls from Keith. When he looked at the caller ID, his eyebrows furrowed. “Um...hello?”

“Hey Matt, it’s Kei-”

“You sound like you swallowed a blender! What happened?!”

Keith huffed a bit. His voice always got rough and gravelly around this time. “It’s just...part of the whole wolf thing. Which is what I called you about.”

Matt twirled in his office chair and looked at his calendar. “Isn’t the full moon tomorrow?”

“That’s the problem.”

“Why on earth did you call me, then?”

Keith explained the whole reasoning he’d gone through a minute earlier and got Matt’s sympathies. After a decent amount of back and forth and some quick texts and replies from Pidge and Allura, they got the scraps of an answer.

“We can probably assume that since you’re still a pup, you’ve got some variation in your cycles,” Matt explained, “And if they’re anything like more womanly cycles, they should straighten out as you get older.”

“So...what does that mean for me now?”

“Means you’re probably changing a day early, Keith.”

The werewolf clenched his teeth and tried not to sound distressed. He had always had someone beside him during these changes before, but this would theoretically be his first change alone, and that scared him more than the change itself.

“Alright....” His claws tapped on the table nervously, “Do you, uh...shit....I dunno how to ask, but-”

“You want me to come over.”

Keith could hear the small smirk on Matt’s face when he said it. But he nodded. “I’d owe you one.”

“No, you wouldn’t. You’ve saved my ass a few times, it’s about time I saved yours. Will you be okay for about an hour while I finish this project up?”

“Yeah, I think I’ll be alright. Just don’t take your sweet time getting here.”

“I won’t. Just gotta grab some stuff that might help,” Matt’s voice softened into a more comforting tone, “You’ll be okay, alright Keith? Just a little ahead of schedule. Do what you would normally do, I’ll be there soon.”

Keith’s shoulders relaxed a bit at the softer words, “Okay. Thank you.”

The boys hung up, and Keith’s long wait began. An hour truly wasn’t that long, but this time it felt agonizing. Every little action he took to occupy himself only seemed to last seconds. He even managed to do the dishes, clean up his laundry, and tidy his small living room, and he still had forty minutes left.

At the half-hour mark, Keith started pacing around. Forty minutes in, his clothes started to feel too tight, and he changed into his large shifting pajamas. Forty-five minutes in, he began to panic at the itching that was covering his body. At fifty minutes, when Matt still wasn’t there, Keith was convinced that he’d abandoned him, and he’d have to shift alone. And at fifty-five minutes, he was in the darkest corner of his home, watching his hands crackle and break as tears streamed down his cheeks.

But at just a minute left, there was a frantic knock at the door. Keith didn’t even have to get up, Matt let himself in and had their entire friend group in tow.

“Keith!” Lance was the first one to run up and tumble to his side, taking one of his trembling hands in his own. Shiro did the same, although he was much more graceful about sitting down and pulling Keith into his lap. Soon after, Keith was surrounded by his friends, and looking at Matt with confusion.

“H...how di-”

“Shh, hush, you’re busy.” Matt grinned, pulling out his water bottle for whenever Keith was ready, “I told you, I was picking up some things that might help. And friends are things.”

“We’re people, not things.” Pidge stuck her tongue out at her older brother, then turned to Keith with a soft smile, “He piled us all in that dumb Subaru Outback, and nearly got pulled over trying to get us here on time.”

Keith looked from face to face, all of them with friendly and comforting gazes. Except for Allura. Allura was storming around the house on the phone, yelling at someone with all the energy she could muster.

“I don’t care if you’re on an important trip, you do not leave a new member of your pack alone near the full moon!...Yes, he can handle himself, but look where we are now - you know pups have unreliable cycles!... I know plenty about werewolves, obviously more than you, Kolivan!”

Keith managed a smile before more pain shot through his middle, and he clenched his eyes shut. The pain was met with hand squeezes and reassuring words from everyone around him, even Hunk, who was close enough to pat his foot for comfort.

It would be a long, painful night, that was the truth. But it was also true that Keith had all of his friends close by, and he would be just fine with them around.