#if you want i can elaborate on why Mama left

[struck-by-the-rain]

really warming up to yuri's idea that the strict karate training senior subjected joe to is a generational thing for my personal hc storyline thing, i always thought it was a cool idea but i wasnt quiiiite sure if i wanted 2 elaborate on senior beyond "he just sucks". but no its part of my belief system i think now!!!!

like its been tradition for Ages for a karate family dad 2 subject his son to v. strict training until the son's stronger than him, and only then is he free to go and live the rest of his life & is expected to do the same to his own kid etc etc. and they believe that the strict training and pressure/incentive of "being able to move out and live your life" is a the best way to raise strong martial artists?

im thinking it could have started in ancient times when the family were expected to fight against a threat of some sort, maybe like the demons from samurai slice? and they just carried on w the tradition even in modern times, just raising elite athletes rather than demon fighters or whatever.

and joe's unwilling/unable to fulfil this role and surpass senior/master karate in senior's eyes, due to senior's inconsistent/unfair standards for his son and joe being not physically/mentally strong enough to meet them. & senior's like "all your ancestors managed to do this, why can't you?"

leads me to side idea that the tradition is gendered, which is why i referred to it as a father/son thing earlier? and how my hc of joe being trans affects things? like idk he came out as a kid, shortly after joe Mama joe's mum left? and senior was accepting in like "okay, you're my son, so we have to get training".

& idk it explains partially why joe would endure giving up on his own dreams, decades of loneliness and extremely taxing training, like not only does he not want to disappoint his father/family but he also wants to validate his identity/prove his competence as a trans guy? like idfk he's like "if i fail or give up its bc im not enough of a man" & he thinks this is like, the only way he can be a man??? guhhhh idk....

and he learns throughout his lil storyline that hes enough of a man, and Enough in general as a person, just how he is, even if he fails to meet senior's expectations and runs away from the basement to live his own life on his own accord

fuuuuuuuck idk i think i accidentally made an allegory for being transmasc in the real world and feeling like u have to conform to impossibly high standards of masculinity to be valid, and the difficult process of unlearning that and accepting yourself for whatever type of man/person u want to be. i feel like i cant joke about joe being "too fruity for the karate family" like i planned this turned out too serious HELP

[blu3cl0v3rs]

I'm here to hurt you feelings today.

Summary: Morro gets abandoned.

Warnings: Abandonment, describing a panic attack, hysteria

Prompt: Bed | Hope | "Where did you go?"

Extra: Another pre-canon oneshot set before Wu takes Morro in. It's one of the many ways I think Morro could've ended up homeless and parentless, this one being his father (his elemental predecessor) left, and so he and his mother become homeless because she can't get hired. She eventually decides to abandon Morro, and this is Morro's side of her leaving. Enjoy!

You won't.

"But Mama, I don' wan' you to gooo," Morro whines, sticking tightly to the woman's leg.

She brushes some dark strands of hair out of her hair. The woman sighs, "I know baby, but I have to go get food. I promise, I'll be back by nightfall, okay?" She hugs the young child, and carefully peels him off.

He has a feeling she's lying.

"O-okay, Mama." He sniffles and rubs his nose with the back of his hand.

She walks away, muttering something under her breath.

"I'm sorry baby."

Morro stares at the corner she passed, as if she'd appear again laughing, saying it was a joke, and that she'd never leave him. He tightened his arms around himself, trying to preserve what little comfort he could.

Eventually, waiting for Mama gets boring.

He traces the gray spaces between the bricks of the slim alleyway, tosses around pieces of trash that spilled out of the ripped open trash bags, and paces the entire length of the street… 10, no, 15 times!

The sun beats down harshly on the child, sweat drips down his face as he leans against the heated bricks, his groaning stomach reminds him of what he's waiting for.

He could wait for Mama.

…right?

Mama's gonna come back.

He clenches the rag of a shirt he's wearing, digging unkempt nails into the patchy fabric.

Mama's gonna come back.

She's gonna come back

She's gonna come back

She's gonna come back

She's gonna come back!

A stabbing pain radiates from his head.

Something's dripping down his face. Tears? It's fine, Mama's gonna come back.

His throat hurts. A lot. Mama can fix it, she's gonna come back.

Someone's yelling.

Is that him? Is he yelling?

Mama has to come back, she must hear him.

He wants Mama.

Morro doesn't want to be alone. He doesn't want to be forgotten.

Mama didn't forget him, did she? Maybe that's Mama, it's kinda dark, so he can't tell.

Did he do something wrong?

Come back, Mama.

"Where did you go?"

That night, Morro remembers crying himself to sleep, ignoring the loud rumbles of his starving stomach.

Maybe Mama will be there when he wakes up.

Mama wasn't there.

[carpetbug]

ML Feline Blue AU Chapter Three: Origins pt. 1/2

1 • 2 • 3

read below or on ao3

Each step back to the Pont des Arts was petrifying. All the muscles in her legs contracted in protest, begging her to stop or for the still fresh soreness to bring her to her knees. What had been an ache in her lungs was now a relentless screaming, and the sound of rushing water in the seine was making her head hurt.

But she had to know. 

It wasn’t like the streets of Paris would be crowded so early in the morning, but Marinette had expected more than the occasional elderly couple or jogger on a morning run. There were no sirens, no policemen barking orders at each other with megaphones like she had pictured in her mind. No one had noticed the bloodbath left behind. Which only made it feel all the more fictional, like some elaborate, fucked up fantasy she had concocted in her mind. 

She had to go back and know if it was real. Know if she had any right to feel as burdened as she did.

There was no reassuring kwami hidden in her pockets, no magical jewels that made her a superhero. No, those had all been tucked away in her closet, where no villain could find them. It was just Marinette, bundled securely under a thick gray hoodie, mind running wild with worst case scenarios. They didn’t stop when she arrived at the Pont des Arts, and only seemed to get louder when she took in the freshly cleaned condition.

She walked the length of the bridge, then did it twice more. It was pristine, easily wiped of the brash color it was stained the night prior. Marinette wasn’t even sure she could remember where exactly on the bridge it had been. The wooden walkway looked almost polished, the entire platform was the spitting image of perfection. It made her fucking skin crawl.

It was too easy, too tempting, to sit on one of the benches sprinkled across the bridge and let herself peel apart. The panic had long set in, leaving her feeling lost and unraveled. This sudden enemy was already plucking away at the careful seams she's used to stitch her confidence together, and he didn’t even know she existed. Sitting on the bench for a few hours, her mind wandered aimlessly on autopilot, yet always circled back to ‘Guardian. Miracle Box. Guardian. Guardian. Miracle Box. Guardian.’ It was still on loop in her head when she picked herself up off the seat and went home.

The idea of doing a mad dash through the bakery and to her room crossed her mind, she had to admit, but it was quickly dismissed. The bakery had already been open for almost an hour now, she didn't want to cause a racket amongst customers. Plus, it’s not like her parents would let it slide either. Then again, Marinette had entered her home in many weirder ways.

She pulled open the doors of the bakery, skirting the customer line and bee lining for the ‘employees only’ labeled door. If she was really lucky, her mom would be too busy to even notice her slipping in.

“Welcome back, why were you out so early?” Sabine commented nonchalantly as her daughter awkwardly tried to creep past, eyes not leaving the cash register as she tapped away at the buttons.

What a fantasy. The idea of Marinette Dupain-Cheng having a single moment of luck. “Sorry Mama, I woke up way too early and couldn’t fall back asleep so I wanted to go out for a quick walk. Then I may have fallen asleep on a bench at the seine…” She trailed off, hands flailing wildly around her as she explained to her mother. It honestly wasn’t too far from the truth, and it also wasn’t too far from something Marinette would do.

Sabine quirked an eyebrow, giving her daughter that questioning look only mothers can, before sighing and smiling to herself. She reached out and stroked her face gently, then pinched her cheek. “Go get changed and enjoy the last week of summer break. No more falling asleep on public benches.”

Marinette nodded in relief, turned to leave, then spun back around and planted a kiss on her moms cheek. “Love you too!” She hummed, bounding through the kitchen with a passing hello to her dad, then up the stairs.

Her mother had helped clear her head momentarily, but it all came crashing back down when she came into her bedroom. It all felt too bright now. The rosy tones and cluttered surfaces were bringing on a migraine, and the nauseating box of magic hidden she knew was in her closet was not helping. Still, she reached for the doorknobs after allowing her eyes a moment to adjust. She had built a nest of fabric around the miracle box, bundling it away in the corner of her closet. The box felt lighter than it had yesterday, maybe because the wood dried during the past day, or because Marinette had a night to sleep on the heavy new burden. Well, a few hours, really. The lid opened easily, and out flew all the kwamis. Tikki and Plagg settled calmly in front of her, both curiously inspecting the room with their eyes. The other kwamis didn’t have such etiquette, and instantly began to wreak havoc on her belongings.

Her lips parted, about to protest, when her voice failed her. Instead she let out a quiet sigh and rolled her eyes, allowing them temporary free reign, then made her way to her desk. The kwamis weaved through the air around her, almost ignoring her presence all together as they discovered the wonder that was her room. They screamed, shrieked, and squealed— Marinette had never been more relieved her parents were in the bakery, too far to hear— about each new unearthing, but she tuned them out into white noise.

There needed to be a record. A journal, a book, she’d even call it a diary. She needed to start writing these things down, making a physical trail of everything that’s happened so far. Documenting about the kwamis, the miraculous, this villain, Master Fu, her total number of panic attacks (three and counting), etc. The important things. It seemed as good a place to start as any.

“Marinette?” The ladybug kwami had followed her across the room and now sat atop her computer, intently watching her write with cautious eyes.

“Mm?” the girl hummed in response, enthralled in her furiously scribbled notes. Her tongue peeked out from her lips just slightly as she wrote.

“What... what are you doing?”

“Screw that, where the hell did you go?” The cat cut in, tail lashing from side to side. His lips were pulled back in a slight hiss, sharp teeth glinting from in his mouth.

“I-I went back to the Pont des Arts.” She mumbled, pen stilling in her hand. It was silent for a second before their voices erupted.

“You did what?!”

“I would have come with you!”

The kwamis were instantly rambling, Plagg listing off all the ways she could have died on his claws while Tikki pressed her for a play-by-play retelling. It was suffocating.

“I’m fine, okay?! I’m alright!” She huffed, slamming the pen down and pushing against the desk to send her chair rolling backwards. Marinette brought her hands to her face to gently rub her eyes before taking a breath. “Nothing happened.” She said flatly, arms falling to her lap. “I just wanted to see why no one was talking about the blood. But it was entirely clean. The whole bridge looked fucking polished.”

The kwamis exchanged a look between them before Tikki quietly repeated, “I would have come with you.” with a small frown and eyebrows knitted together in worry.

Marinettes building frustration melted. She hadn’t even thought the kwamis would worry about her, nevertheless be upset she had gone alone. A small part of her had honestly thought they would prefer she do the dirty work herself. She pinched her eyes closed and tried to shrug off the guilt blanketing her shoulders. “I wanted to go alone. Plus, it’s my job to keep you all safe and hidden now, I couldn’t risk taking you back there.” She explained softly, returning to the desk and plucking the pen from the surface to fidget with.

“It’s your job to stay safe with us!” Plagg hissed, unaffected by her gentle tone. “It’s our job to train you as guardian! You have to work with us, Marinette!” his voice wavered as he went on. “Let us teach you how to be a guardian before you try doing it on your own.

She listened carefully, gaze locked downward on her feet. After a few moments she spoke “I just want to be able to protect you guys.”

Tikki lowered through the air until she rested in Marinettes lap, looking up kindly at her eyes. “We know, Marinette.”

“But, c’mon Pigtails—“ the new nickname caught her by surprise, making her look up at the cat kwami. “We’re not the only ones who need to be protected right now.” he huffed.

“Let us keep you safe as well,” The ladybug kwami pleaded enthusiastically. “You’re not alone.”

Marinette nodded weakly as she reached a hand forward to rub the red kwamis cheek. “I’ll try to remember that. But if I'm going to do this safely, I need to be prepared.” She clicked her pen, pushing out the inky tip. “Tell me everything, from the beginning.”

An annunciatory cough caught her attention, and she turned to see the rest of the kwamis had settled in a small, patient audience around the three as they talked. It was easy to forget just how many of them there were. Seventeen miniature gods living in her room.

“I think I can help with that,” A light green kwami with a shell spoke up. His sclera was a saturated yellow, and a thick antenna sprouted from his head, ending in a round bulb. “The man you met was Wang Fu, the g— uhm.. The previous guardian of the miraculous.” he spoke, wincing slightly as he messed up his wording. “I am Wayzz, the kwami of protection.” a small tail flicked from the bottom of his shell.

Marinette took hasty notes as the kwami spoke. “Wang Fu.” She echoed the name, feeling the heavy way it rolled off her tongue. “I think I remember him saying that.” It felt wrong to say his full name only now, after everything he sacrificed for her.

“Wayzz was Master Fus personal kwami, so he knows the most about the guardian.” Tikki explained, zooming through the air to float by his side. Wayzz gave her a soft smile, but a heavy gloom lingered in his eyes. He tilted his head to lean against hers slightly, making Marinettes heart twist for the creatures.

“You must have been close.” She said gently, giving the kwami a sympathetic smile. “How long had he been guardian?”

That question gave the kwamis pause. Wayzz blinked before awkwardly clearing his throat. “Well, similar to you, Master Fu had to become sole guardian at fourteen because of… a-a tragic event, leaving him the only living member of the Order of the Guardians.” He stuttered. Marinette's throat went dry and she was immediately buzzing with questions, but he went on. “But that happened many, many, many years ago. Master Fu lived to one hundred and eighty six.”

Her mind went blank, all questions gone in a moment's notice. “One hundred and eighty six?” Marinette repeated. She frantically looked from kwami to kwami, eyes wild. “Am-am I going to live that long now?” her voice was tight with panic. Being fourteen felt burdensome enough, how was she supposed to do this for another century— and possibly longer?

Plagg was the first to respond, and he did so with pure amusement. “Fear not, Pigtails. Master Fu only lived that long cause he was a crazy old man who did crazy old man shit.”

Wayzz glared at Plaggs vulgarity, but began to explain further. “It was simple really, he ate a very specific and controlled diet, practiced rigorous healing and meditation practices, and he’d even-”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing and you’ll live a normal human amount of time.” An orange kwami barked, long fluffy tail flicking back and forth. He resembled a fox, but with purple eyes and long antennas on his ear tips. “Maybe take the anxiety down a level or two. We need you to stick around for a while.”

“Ha-ha.” Marinette said bluntly, rolling her eyes at the fox kwami. She turned her attention back to her journal, pen gaining motion in her hands once again. “What else can you guys tell me about him?”

“A lot, Master, but in due time. First, I think introductions are in order.” the turtle kwami responded, side-eyeing a few kwamis to his left. That’s what made Marinette finally notice some of the creatures literally shaking with excitement. A velvety purple feline and floppy eared dog most notably, both the creature's tails lashing at an intense speed. They looked like they were about to explode.

“You’re right, I don’t even know half of your guys' names.” She realized, and a dull feeling of guilt dawned on her at not having asked about them. She gestured a hand towards them, prompting them all to share.

They went around, one by one, introducing themselves. Tikki and Plagg, the ladybug and black cat, who Marinette was familiar with after last night. Wayzz, the turtle, Master Fus kwami. Trixx, the name of the fox kwami that had spoken earlier. Sass, a snake. Pollen, which is quite a fitting name for a bee kwami. Roaar and Barkk were the tiger and dog kwamis, the two exploding with excitement. Kaalki, Ziggy, Orikko, Mullo and Daizzi, being a horse, goat, rooster, mouse, and pig respectively. A blue ox named Stompp, which reminded Marinette of the story of Babe, the blue ox. A dragon by the name of Longg, and a ditzy bunny named Fluff. Last but not least, the loudest and most chaotic kwamis of them all, Xuppu, a small light brown monkey. According to them all, the butterfly and peacock kwamis, Nooroo and Duusu, were the only missing gods. One was held captive by the butterfly villain, but the other was lost alongside its miraculous.

She wasn’t sure she would ever remember all that.

“Your turn!” The tiger kwami roared in delight.

“Oh.” Since they had known her name and age, Marinette had assumed they had known everything else about her too. That what it had seemed like with Fu, why should tiny animal gods be any different? “I’m just Marinette.” They already knew that. “Uhm- My parents have a bakery, that’s downstairs, we live on top of it. Right now we’re in my room, obviously.”

“We want to know about you, Marinette!” Tikki chirped, returning to perch happily on her computer again. 

“What’s your favorite color!”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“-Or a girlfriend!”

“Why are you so small?”

“What’s your deepest darkest secret!”

The kwamis were a shrieking chorus of voices, all piling up questions without waiting for answers. Marinette watched, eyes wide, until they eventually quieted on their own. Her life was going to be a lot louder from here on out.

“Uh-uhm, my favorite color is pink.” Her face was burning as she waved a hand around her rosy room. Why is talking about yourself so embarrassing? “I don’t have… either of those things right now, the last boy I fell in love with was- uhm- w-we went swimming and-” Marinette wasn’t even sure where to begin explaining the horrific prank she’d been victim to last school year. “He just didn’t feel the same way.” She said quietly, clicking the pen in her hands a few times anxiously. What had the other questions been?

“WHY ARE YOU SO SMALL?!” That question was repeated, much louder and much closer to her face. Xuppu had sprung up in front of her, big ears nestled on the side of his face and a long monkey tail curled beneath him. 

“Cause I’m fourteen?” Marinette slid back in her chair to get some space from the kwami. “I’m not exactly done growing.” She explained in a high pitched voice, somewhat confused by his demeanor. The monkey kwami would take some getting used to. But, then again, they’d all take some getting used to.

“And your deepest darkest secret is?” Plagg purred, his tail lashing playfully.

“You guys. Obviously.”

The kwamis all went silent for a second— which seemed almost impossible to her— and exchanged looks before bursting into laughter.

“Good answer, Marinette.” Tikki giggled. ---

“What do you mean It’s not my box?!” Marinette looked up from her journal at the kwamis and groaned loudly before burying her face in her hands.

“He means technically.” Tikki corrected awkwardly.

“I mean it’s not yours!” Plagg jeered in response. “Look at the Miracle Box. What does that look like to you?”

“I don't know! A box!” Marinette whined, throwing her arms forward and herself back onto her comically large cat pillow, before sliding down into the nest of blankets she had gathered over the week. He gave her a sharp and unamused glare. She sighed and heaved herself back upright. Studying the box carefully, she traced the design with her eyeline; staring so intensely she felt like lasers would beam from her pupils and burn through the wood. The box sat, just barely a foot away, carelessly in the corner of her bed where she had left it the night before. It looked the exact same as the first time she saw it. Still just as unsettling. She was almost scared to touch it. Thankfully, the latter feeling was fading slowly with each passing day. “It looks the same.” She muttered, before tentatively leaning forward to grab the box.

“Bingo. That's not normal Pigtails.” his tail flicked impatiently as she held the box in her lap. “Each Miracle Box has a distinct guardian, and should change to reflect their personal desires and deepest truth. This piece of junk-” Plagg flexed a single claw towards the box between them, “doesn’t look like your miracle box in the slightest.”

Tikki sighed before chiming in “He’s not entirely correct, but his point makes sense.”

“Does it?” Marinette questioned unenthusiastically, palms pulling at her cheeks.

“How do I explain this…” the bug mumbled to herself while scrunching her face in thought. Funny, people always said Marinette did that. “It’s like the box is only considering you a temporary guardian, and so it isn’t entirely connected to you. If it were, the box would change shape, size, color, even its own rules and structure.”

“MY SITUATION DOESN'T FEEL VERY TEMPORARY?!” Marinette wailed in immediate response, arms thrashing wildly at her sides.

“You’re not Marinette, don't worry! It's most likely the box can somehow sense your unease and won't allow you full guardianship… or…” Tikkis gaze took a hard turn to bore into the cat kwami to her right, who shrugged it off easily.

“That's right, I stopped it.” He yawned dismissively. “Kid, you've barely even used a miraculous, you're like nine years old, and you’re going up against an actual murderer. You should be thanking me right now.”

“You don’t think I should be guardian Plagg?” 

“Not what I said.” Plagg huffed, but Marinette wasn’t following. “I understand Fus’ situation was… sudden, but you shouldn’t have to pay for that. I do believe you would make a good guardian, Marinette, but I don't think you should have to be one.” Plagg did a weird thing as he spoke. His voice softened, his gaze became glued to the floor, and his ears pressed gently back against his head.

Her lips broke into a warm smile, and she brought her hand up to the cat to run her fingers across his soft fur. He purred, very quietly, in response. “Thank you, Plagg. It's nice to know you've been looking out for me.”

His eyes widened suddenly before he jerked away and shook out his fur, repressing his growing purr. “Too cheesy, even for me.” He fake gagged, then settled comfortably on her knee. She gave him a breathy laugh before ruffling his head with a careful fingertip and turning her attention to Tikki.

“I think I understand. So, how do I prove myself?”

“It’s not about that, Marinette. The box doesn’t think you're not good enough, only not ready.” Tikki sighed.

“I thought Plagg was the one that stopped it?” Her head tilted in confusion.

“I stopped it from granting full guardianship to you once, but I don't control the damn thing. It's in your hands from here, so take it up with the box.” Plagg huffed, beginning to groom his paws.

“You just need patience and focus. Keep preparing yourself, and the miraculous will tell you when it's time.” Tikki reassured.

Marinette let the words sit for a few moments as the kwamis flew off in search of other activities. Patience and focus. Marinette wasn’t known for either. ---

School was supposed to start on Monday. Two days to finish her studies on the miraculous, which Marinette knew she wouldn’t be able to accomplish. How could she get the flu in the next couple hours? Also, how could she make it last for a month?

“Maybe I could be of some assistance, Master?” Trixx offered playfully as he drifted towards his guardian, her hair unkempt, eyes heavy with dark bags, and body curled over her notebook, taking intense notes. An array of dirty cups and plates littered the space around her, many reeking of old coffee. “Using the miraculous of the fox you could make an illusion of yourself being sick to trick your parents! Free extra long summer break.”

She paused writing to look up at the small fox with skepticism. “Really? And it would work?” Marinette questioned, like such an easy answer was too good to be true. “Also, just Marinette. Not Master.”

“So long as no one touches the illusion, it should. It’ll disappear when it comes into contact with anybody else.” The kwami gave a nonchalant shrug.

It was hard not to roll her eyes, but instead she opted for letting out an impatient huff and pouting her bottom lip. “Thanks for the offer, Trixx, but that won’t work. The second I mention being sick to my parents, they’ll want to take my temperature and feed me soup, it would be a literal nightmare if their daughter disappeared when they touched her.”

“Your loss.” He shrugged again, but his tail lashed in a way that said ‘Don’t come crawling back to me’.

“You’re welcome to my miraculoussss.” Another kwami hissed, bringing Marinette's attention to Sass, the snake kwami. “The power of intuition will allow you to rewind time at your command, letting you try any number of ssssolutionssss until one workssss.” A long, forked tongue flicked in and out of his mouth as he spoke.

This one she gave more thought to before declining. “I would only be able to do that if I transformed.” She frowned, “My parents would definitely have some questions if I was in some random snake get-up.” then began chewing on the already heavily dented cap to her pen.

“My offer sssstandssss should you change your mind.” He nodded politely. “Perhapssss the other kwami with a time related power can help. Fluff!”

The cotton white bunny bounced through the air towards them, big ears flopping with the movement. “Yes, yes, yes, what’s happening?” She was holding a baby carrot between her paws, indicating they had interrupted her lunch.

“Do you know of any way to convince the parents our Master is ill?”

“Just Marinette, please.”

“Of course, Marinette, my mistake.”

Fluff sat on a tomato shaped pincushion on the desk, abandoning her carrot and considering her options. “I can use my power to burrow back a few days ago and find some way to get you sick?”

Sounded weirdly horrific. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not, but please, please don’t do that. Please.”

To Marinette's surprise, the fluffy kwami bent over giggling in response. “I won’t, I won’t, besides it would cause some horrible catastrophic event.”

“What?”

“If a kwami uses their powers without a holder to channel them, the concept that kwami represents in this universe will ‘break’, causing some calamitous event, which can usually only be fixed with the ladybug cure.” Tikki chirped, joining Fluff on the pincushion.

“Good to know.” Marinette bit down on the pen again, pressing it between her molars as she took in, well, everything. For about the millionth time.

Crack.

Ink exploded into her mouth, coating every taste bud and slipping down her throat in seconds. She gagged instantly, choking on the putrid tasting liquid, as the kwamis around her gasped.

“SHE’S DYING!” Xuppu screamed, a little too loudly, because instantly Maman shouted back.

“What? Who’s dying?”

In a hurry, the kwamis flushed through the air like a flock of birds interrupted by a hunter, all diving for the safety of the concealed Miracle Box. Marinette forced her lips together to contain the ink, a plan forming in her mind as she moved towards her vanity and its sink, pushed against a wall in her room. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was a plan nevertheless.

As her parents flung open the trapdoor to her room, she made a big show of dramatically spitting out the ink and starting the faucet with exaggerated gags.

“Me! I’m dying! I was chewing on a pen and it exploded!” She whined, taking a mouthful of water from the faucet and swishing it aggressively through her mouth. It came out a murky dark gray, and Marinette had to grit her teeth as she swallowed the remaining half still in her mouth. It felt just as foul in her stomach as it had tasted in her mouth, but it was a necessary part of the plan. If she was going to fake a debilitating stomach ache, she needed a bit of honesty behind it. 

“Oh, Marinette, I’m constantly telling you to stop chewing on your pens! If you have to do it, at least use a pencil or something.” Sabine said, half joking, as she walked up and gently rubbed her daughters back. 

Marinette nodded in agreement as she continued sipping and spitting mouthfuls of water to clean out the remaining ink. Eventually she stopped the faucet and dried her mouth, then turned to her fearfully observing parents. Tom was fanning his eyes like he was on the verge of tears, for some reason.

“Papa! Don’t cry, oh my god—”

“I was worried you were choking to death!” Tom replied, dramatically stretching out his arms to gesture at his daughter. Sabine continued rubbing her back, then bit back a laugh at the sight of a dark blue ink stain on the corner of Marinette's lip. “How do you feel?”

“I’m alright,” She brought a hand to her stomach and clutched it before pulling her mouth down in an exaggerated frown. “But I think I swallowed a lot of the ink. I don’t feel very good.”

Her parents exchanged a look before sending her up to her lofted bed for some immediate rest and recuperation. The last thing Marinette heard before the door closed was her Mama starting a pot of tea, and her Papa frantically running downstairs to the bakery to make treats for his little girl. Never mind the fact she was supposed to be having a horrible stomach ache right now.

“You got a little something right there.” Plagg flew to his holder's side when the door was closed, his tail flicking at the ink stain on her face. 

She flicked her tongue across her thumb and pulled out her phone, quickly thumbing to the camera, and began to scrub at the mark. “That should get me a few days off at the very least.” She sighed, wiping at her skin more and more aggressively. “I don’t know what I’ll do after that though, it’s not like my parents would let me drop out of school. I doubt they’d even let me miss more than a week.”

Tikki joined the guardian and black cat kwami with a tissue in her hands, and she silently took over cleaning the girl's face. “Don’t worry about that now, Marinette. What’s important is you have time, and we’re all here to help teach you.” The small bug pulled back, taking in her guardian's freshly cleaned appearance. “There, all better.” ---

Marinette's week with the kwamis was busy, extensive, and overall exhausting. When she wasn’t feigning stomach pains to her parents, she was taking thorough notes on the complexities of each individual miraculous, wrestling with the Miracle Box, and not getting nearly enough sleep.

Instead, she spent her nights rotating through the different jewels, pinpointing all the different strengths and weaknesses they had. Some could see in the dark; the black cat, the tiger, the fox, and some others. Some were faster and stealthier, others were sturdy and solid. Each transformation gave her new abilities, but they all made her feel strong, refreshed and ready to fight.

They all allowed her to bounce between rooftops easily, to swing across the city, and balance like she weighed no more than a feather. Her energy was endless. Marinette wondered if it would feel that way when she was face to face with the butterfly’s latest villain. For now, she was focused on finding a good level of understanding of all the miraculous, as well as fostering a relationship between her and the kwamis.

Which she had been able to do, for the most part. She’d use part of her time with the miraculous to transform and use its powers, of course, but the rest of the time she'd spend bonding with the kwami, getting to know their favorite foods and past holders. They’d even play a twenty questions style game to get to know each other. Most enjoyed it, or at the very least tolerated it.

She had learned a lot.

Ziggy is the ‘youngest’ of all nineteen, with Tikki being the ‘oldest’. Mullo likes to spend their time pranking and teasing their fellow kwamis, while Longg prefers to stay observant and silent, surveying and keeping others in check. Trixx talks like he’s constantly trying to scam you into some sort of pyramid scheme, while Kaalki has a thick, prissy accent. Wayzz, Pollen, and Stompp are more on the quiet and calm side, unlike Roaar, Barkk, or Xuppu who can make a sold out Jagged Stone concert sound like a chill lofi playlist. Every kwami had a boisterous presence, regardless if they tried to keep calm or not. Marinette was slowly falling in love with each of them.

But most importantly, she learned the true powers of the earrings of creation and the ring of destruction.

“When combined together, the miraculous of the ladybug and black cat can grant their holder the ultimate power, any wish they ask for. This comes at a terrible price; however, the universe will be destroyed and rewritten in accordance with the request.” Tikki nodded solemnly as she explained, small eyebrows pressed together in sincerity.

“What—What does that even mean?” Marinette asked.

“If you use my ring and tikkis earrings, you get a single, all powerful wish. Could wish for anything you want. Let’s say you wish for a lifetime supply of camembert, as one does. To make that wish come true, someone else would be devoid of its cheesy creamy goodness for the rest of their life! And y'know, existence itself is destroyed and remade.” The cat kwami had an annoying habit of simplifying the most important things.

“That’s… not the example I would have used, but I guess it works.” Tikki shrugged. “That’s why the butterfly wants our miraculous, and why he killed Master Fu.”

“Well… what’s his wish?”

“Fuck if we know,” Plagg scoffed, settling on his guardians shoulder. “It happened too fast. Wayzz had a horrible feeling when the butterfly was activated, and—”

“Wait— only Wayzz? Why not all of you?” 

“It’s not allowed within the order, but should a guardian become a permanent wielder to a miraculous, their kwami will transform and have more intricate and sensitive powers.” The ladybug explained, “Wayzz was able to provide warning due to his connection with Master Fu.”

Marinette glanced at the Miracle Box resting on her chaise lounge chair, and at the kwamis resting around it. The turtle was asleep on top of the box, limbs all tucked inside his shell while his head poked out just slightly. Curled around him were Pollen and Barkk, comforting him with hushed words and soft fur. It made her heart sore.

“And that’s what’s going to happen when I pick one of you.” The realization dawned on her.

Tikki and Plagg looked at each other for a few seconds, a wordless exchange, then turned back to her. “Yes, it will. A guardian has never wielded the ladybug or black cat, since they are the most powerful miraculous, but you are in a… difficult position, so it’s inevitable.” Tikki mumbled in response.

“There’s no way of knowing what will happen when the kwami of creation or destruction is transformed, Marinette. Could be nothing, could be everything. It could hurt you.” Plagg said, pressing his front paws against her hand softly. His eyes were clouded with concern.

“I’m sure it can't do anything worse to me than what that…  butterfly did to Master Fu.” Marinette said softly, petting the cat's forehead with a gentle touch. “Don’t worry about me, Plagg.”

There was only so much Marinette could learn in the short time she'd had so far with the kwamis, and taking on too much was leading her to anxiety attacks and paranoia. Holding up so much all at once was crushing her, it was obvious, but she refused to sit and breathe. Everything needed to be put in the right place for when things went wrong. Everything needed to be prepared, everything needed to be written down. It was the closest thing she had to a guide. 

Because of this, she could tell the kwamis were holding back. There were some things they knew she wasn’t ready for, and Marinette didn’t think she was prepared to challenge them for it. But knowing there was potentially vital information right out of her reach made her heart race, it made her hands start to shake. How could she be ready for anything if she didn’t know everything? It was best to reassure them all that there was nothing to worry about.

There was a blur of motion, then she watched the black cat kwami zip through the air in front of her to the skylight overhead, then out to the balcony above. If she wasn’t mistaken, he was shaking as he flew.

Marinette looked at Tikki, who was also starring after Plagg with a sad frown. “Did I say something?” She asked softly.

Tikki shook her head, “Not in the way you think.” she tried to comfort, then lifted into the air and began towards her fellow kwamis. “I think you should check on him, Master.” The bug flew away before she could correct her.

She reached up and pushed open the passage.

The night air felt fresh, blowing through her unwashed hair and tingling the smaller hairs along her arms and legs. A slight chill flowed through the breeze, raising goosebumps across her skin.

Plagg was curled into a small, black ball in the center of her sun chair, his tail flicking every few seconds. She watched him in silence, until his bright green eyes peeked open from the void to stare back at her.

“What, I can’t take a catnap in peace?” He grumbled, ears laying flat against his head.

“What’s wrong?” She asked softly, sitting cross legged on the floor in front of the occupied chair.

“I’m feeling catty, so what.”

“You know I don’t want you guys outside on your own.” Marinette ignored his response, brushing her palm softly across his silky back. “Are you okay, Plagg?”

He shot up with a sudden and violent hiss, batting her hand away. “I don’t know, kid! Am I okay? Are you okay, Marinette?! Is this what we’re doing now?!” He spat, fangs bared.

She flinched back just slightly, unprepared for his outburst. Plagg had just yelled at her. “Wh-what? I don—”

“None of this is okay! And I’m sick of being told not to worry about you!” Plagg floated just above her, black fur bristled out in angry spikes as he snapped. “Why don’t you care, Marinette?!”

Plagg must have known how that stung. “Care about what?! I care about you! I care about all the kwamis, the miracle box, even that old man I knew for thirty seconds! I care about all of it!” Marinette bit back at him, unable to hold her tongue. All she had done was care, how could he say that?

He quieted, then dropped back to the chair without a word. Plagg looked up at her with sad eyes and droopy whiskers, “Why don’t you care about yourself?” he asked.

The words stopped her. Stunned her, really. “I-I… I don’t even— Plagg, I— I care.”

“You’ve been tearing yourself apart, Pigtails. Back-to-back all-nighters studying us, blaming yourself for what happened to Fu, putting our own emotions and wellbeing above your own. It’s too much.”

Water welled in her eyes as she choked on a response. “I didn’t mean… The— I thought I was doing the right thing.”

He watched her for a second, considering her words. “You did the right thing. I just sometimes wish you would do whatever the wrong thing is, too.” he said, then continued before she could question it. “Sit down and do nothing for a while. Go to sleep at nine. Let yourself be selfish, Kid, if that’s what it means to care about yourself. It’s a kwamis job to care for their guardian, too.”

Tears slowly rolled from her cheeks, quickly turning to a steady pour from her eyes. Marinette sniffled, wiping the heel of her palm against her face in a vain attempt to dry her skin. “Th-there’s so m-many of you… and s-so much to do, I-I just want to keep you all safe, and—”

“We’re safe, Marinette. No one else knows where the miracle box is, and you’re going to make sure it stays that way.” Plagg said, tail wrapping reassuringly around her wrist. “There’s a lot of us, sure, but we can manage on our own. And you have all the time in the world to do everything there is to do.” He gently rubbed his face against her hand as he purred, just like a real cat would. “You freak out too much, Pigtails.”

She had no response to that. It was true.

“So don’t tell me not to worry about you.” His voice was weaker now, wavering like he was also fighting against a wave of emotion.

“I’m sorry.” She sighed, still wiping tears from her face. “I just want to do this the right way, so I try to control it all, and I freak myself out. I want to be a guardian, and be there for you all, b-but, I—” Marinette trailed off momentarily, “I just want to be Marinette, too.”

Plagg gave her a small smile. “I’ve been telling you since you saved us, this isn’t your fight. You're not in charge of controlling it all. You don’t deserve to go through this, but I won’t stop you from going forward.” He took a deep breath then gave a resolute nod, before diving back inside the room below. He reappeared moments later with a smooth black ring in his paws, and a crowd of kwamis all poking their heads out of the balcony door. 

Plagg held out the ring to her and spoke, “I, Plagg, the kwami of destruction, ask you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, to wield the ring of the black cat. Using it, you will protect the kwamis in your care, you will reclaim the stolen butterfly and lost peacock miraculous, you will enlist the help of a ladybug holder, and you will rest when you need to.” The words had the same effect as the ones Master Fu had spoken at the Pont des Arts, only both she and Plagg started to gently glow.

Marinette reached out slowly, still convinced the kwami would yank back the jewel at the final moment, explaining to her that she wasn’t worthy at all. Instead, he happily let her take the ring, even purring just slightly when her hand brushed his chin. 

She slid the cold, black ring onto her right pointer finger, intrigued that it had the same weightless feeling that the earrings had. A dim, green glow passed over the jewelry and Marinette watched as it changed to an iridescent silver, and a small flower replaced the paw centerpiece. She twisted it slowly with her thumb, eyeing over the camouflaged details. Unless someone knew to really look, it truly seemed like any other ordinary ring.

“It’s never too late, Pigtails. You can always back out.” Plagg spoke gently, his eyes darting between her and the ring. It was her decision, her choice.

“I accept.” She spoke, igniting a bright change in the steady glow encompassing them. The light burst in a flash, passing over the guardian and her kwamis, solidifying their connection. As it subsided, Marinette blinked open her eyes to find nothing had truly changed. Except for the feeling.

This felt final, like a decision set in stone. She was the holder of the black cat. She was the guardian.

She turned to the kwami audience, smiling softly at them. They returned her smile with cheers and congratulations, some of the more emotional kwamis genuinely brimming with tears.

“Oh, we’re so proud of you!” Ziggy bleated.

“You’re destined for great things, Marinette!” The mouse kwami squeaked.

“Never before have we had a guardian so young and with such potential. Under careful guidance she will go far.” Even Stompp seemed genuinely happy for the girl.

Marinette let herself bask in their praises, just for the moment. A happy laugh rose from her throat, one she didn’t try to deny. “Do you guys think I’m ready?” She smiled, hands passing from kwami to kwami as she pet them.

“As ready as you can be for now. You’ll learn on the job, chickie!” Orikko clucked warmly, pushing his feathered head into her palm. The other kwamis agreed, slowly gaining energy in the space around her. Soon they were bouncing in the air, some singing and dancing in excitement.

“Guys, guys! Shh, come on, let’s take the party inside.” Marinette hushed, waving the group inside. The kwamis giggled among themselves and drifted back into her room, followed quickly by their guardian. “Thank you, Plagg. It actually feels… kind of real, now.” She whispered to the black cat as she latched closed the trapdoor.

“It wasn’t me, Marinette. All I did was ask something of you. You’re the one who chose us, we should be thanking you.” He said, when another squeal rang out.

She huffed in annoyance, gave him a small peck on the forehead, then climbed to the ground floor of her bedroom and glared at the kwamis in warning. They quieted, and she pressed an ear to the floor to listen for her parents. The muffled sounds of a video game sounded from beneath them, signaling they hadn’t heard. Marinette turned back to the kwamis, ready to scold, when she finally focused on what her tiny gods were looking at. 

Where the Miracle Box used to sit, there was now a bonsai tree, nestled inside an intricately designed pot. On thick bands around the vase was the same pattern that used to be on the top of the box, but that was the only thing that looked similar between them.

“What… is that?” Marinette gasped as she crossed towards the plant.

“The Miracle Box! My liege, it has accepted you!” Pollen buzzed with joy, flying in fast circles around her head.

“The Miracle Tree, you mean.” Plagg meowed at the bee while nuzzling into his holder's shoulder. “It’s all yours kid.”

She reached out a hand, rustling the orange-pink leaves that sprouted in eager clusters across the branches. At the base of the tree, engraved into the trunk, was a yin-yang symbol with the marking of the cat and ladybug balanced between each other. Arched above it was the fox, turtle, and bee, with the butterfly and peacock on either end. The growth above was occupied by the zodiac kwamis, each one laying claim to their own bushel of leaves.

The plant was gorgeous. If she didn’t know better, she would have assumed it to be an expensive gift or invaluable family heirloom. In some weird ways, it kind of was.

There was only one blemish.

“It’s rotting.” Marinette muttered, mostly to herself, as she studied the tree. Surrounding the butterfly and peacock markings were deep gouges, threaded with dark veins. They seemed empty and lifeless when compared to the other miraculous along the tree. Corrupted, almost.

“It’s hurt.” Tikki chirped, popping into place beside Plagg. “Nooroo and Duusu are essentially dead– or dying, according to your Miracle Tree, which is what’s causing that damage.” The bug flew closer to the trunk, extending a small arm to test the bark. “We’ve never seen a Miracle Box like this before.”

She almost sounded impressed.

“How do I fix it?” Marinette asked, now fiddling with the scarred wood. The kwamis were all still celebrating, but she couldn’t help feeling like she broke the thing. It hadn't hurt before, afterall.

Tikki turned back to her with a blank stare. “You can’t.” She said, flying back to her cat counterpart. “Not right now, at least. Maybe once the butterfly and peacock are retrieved, but even that isn’t a guarantee.”

“The tree isss now connected to you, Marinette. It’sss deeply aware of your feelingsss, moralsss, and desssiresss. In a way, the only one who truly knowsss how to manage it isss you.” Sass chimed in, settling carefully onto the fork in the center of the trunk.

“Me?! I don’t even know the first thing about plant care! Do I need to go get fertilizer? Wait, first, I need to make a list of everything I’ll need so I can go to the store— Shoot, do we still have those gardening gloves Maman bought a few years ago? Where would she put— No, no, we gave those to Nonna for her birthday…” Marinette started to ramble, already beginning to pace around her room.

“Pigtails!” Plagg interrupted, pausing her spiral. “It’s magic. It’s a magic tree. You don’t need fertilizer, or gloves, or whatever else you’re already thinking of buying.”

“Oh.” That’s simple. Why couldn’t it all be that simple? She went back to the potted plant, then took a deep breath and heaved it up from the floor. Straining, she slowly carried it across the room, then hoisted it onto her desk. She’d find a more permanent place for it later.

A cheerful tune began from the computer behind her, bringing her attention to Fluff, Mullo, and Daizzi fiddling with the speaker and song settings. Xuppu and Roaar were spinning and bouncing in rhythm with the music, tails swaying with glee. Even Longg and Kaalki, always the serious and sometimes uptight, looked like they were enjoying themselves.

“Master Marinette?” Wayzz spoke up from behind Marinette, the seemingly only kwami not partaking in the festivities.

“Hm? Something wrong, Wayzz?” She reached for the chair sitting at the computer, pulling it over and taking a seat as she talked with the turtle. Even in her private time with him, he hadn’t said much.

“Well, Its… uhm… You’re aware I was Master Fu's personal kwami.” He began, settling on one of the miniature cushions. “He wasn’t a perfect guardian. But he tried very hard, and… and he would–,” Wayzz swallowed, fighting emotion. “He would be very proud of you.”

It meant more than she realized it would. When Wayzz looked up to meet his guardians eyes, she was crying again, eyes red and puffy with tears.

“Thank you, Wayzz. I really needed to hear that.” She gave a breathy laugh, happy tears trailing down her cheeks. The turtle kwami flew upwards, pressing himself in a loving hug against the side of her face. Marinette returned it with a cupped palm.

“Its not a real party until theres a group hug!” Barkk yipped from the pretend dance floor, inciting the kwamis to swarm Marinette. They coated her head, arms, and torso, all purring and giggling as they wrapped their tiny limbs around her.

Her first highschool party, and she got to spend it with gods. ---

The idea of going to school felt equivalent to some kind of death sentence. How is she supposed to be the Marinette they had known before? Everything is different now. She is different now.

‘You’re still Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a normal girl with a normal life.’ She reassured herself in thought, but the feeling remained. ‘Marinette Dupain-Cheng, guardian of the miraculous, soon to be protector of Paris. Normal girl with a normal life.’

Laying partially awake in bed, her thumb lazily toyed with the miraculous ring that now resided on her pointer. She was quickly falling into the habit of checking to make sure it was still on her hand when she woke up. She found it reassuring. The sun was slowly rising, and was currently settled perfectly to glare through the trapdoor above her bed and into her eyes. Blindingly so. She groaned at the brightness suddenly attacking her vision, but sealing her eyelids shut did little to filter the light.

It was time to get up and get ready anyway. Although, being late was definitely more of a ‘Marinette Dupain-Cheng’ move. She debated it internally for a few seconds before climbing the ladder from her bed to the floor below. Her parents had been nice enough to let her miss the first week, the least she could do was try to be on time her first day back.

Kwamis were already busy floating throughout the room, each fairly settled into their new routine. It was hard to keep track of them all at once, but they tried to stay near the Miracle Tree as much as possible, which helped. Sass and Wayzz were flying from kwami to kwami, scribbling down drink orders for the morning. Marinette had taught the two how to use the kettle and coffee maker in the kitchen, and had shown them any other beverage options they might want. She trusted the two (seemingly) most responsible kwamis, and had made them promise to only use it if her parents were working in the bakery. Longg and Tikki would be in charge of the remaining kwamis. 

“Finally awake, Pigtails?” The recognizable sour meow rang out through the room as the black cat kwami floated through the air to his holders’ side. His eyes were cloudy with sleep, so he clearly had also ‘finally’ woken up. Marinette was too drowsy to tease, luckily for him.

“Mmm… ‘morning Plagg.” She responded through a lengthy yawn, miraculous wielding hand coming up to cover her gaping mouth. She stood herself in front of her mirror, sleep-disheveled hair in messy knots down her shoulder, and eye bags reflecting back to her in all their glory. In all honesty, she hardly looked like Marinette these days. Even worse, she was starting to think that wasn’t a bad thing.

“Wow! You look like shit.” Plagg chirped, stilling in the air beside Marinette and watching her painstakingly comb through her bed head in the mirror.

“Yeah… I do, don’t I?”

He gave her a weary look before responding, “Don’t worry Kid, that’s why I’m here.”

“Oh yeah? You gonna brush my hair for me?” Marinette smirked, playfully batting at the kwami with her free hand as she untangled the last sections of dark hair.

“I was thinking more along the lines of supervi—sing… Marinette, what’s wrong?” The cats voice trailed off as he spoke, and he turned from watching her reflection to floating directly in front of her. 

Marinette watched her reflection closely, eyes wide in what looked like shock, maybe confusion. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, like she was grasping for what to say. She settled for, “Nothing, Plagg.” and gathered her loosely strewn hair in a hand.

“Are you sure?” Plagg normally didn’t sound so… concerned. There was nothing to be worried about.

“Yes, Plagg, I’m just getting ready.” She reassured, voice becoming curt with annoyance. The way she spoke had a sharp edge, as did her movements as she pulled and tied her hair behind her head before stepping away from the mirror.

It took barely a second for Plagg to interrupt again. “Hold up!” He was flying through the air again, a black swarm of magic as he blurred in motion. “No pigtails?”

A bun, just a simple, basic, plain ol’ boring bun had replaced her signature matching pigtails, and a light pink hair tie held it in place. Marinette usually tied her hair with ribbons.

“No ribbons, either?”

“Aren’t they a bit… I’dunno, childish?” Her outfit for the day was being pulled from her closet, shirts being thrown aside after being quickly compared to a pair of pink sweatpants. She was doing anything she could to avoid his almost pitiful stare. She didn’t need to be pitied. “I think it’s time I grow up.”

“I didn’t think they were childish.” Plagg mumbled under his breath before flicking his whiskers, like he could shake off the weird energy his holder was putting out. “Well, my nickname for you doesn’t really work anymore.” He sat by idly as she dressed, considering new combinations or phrases that fit the teen.

“Most people just call me Marinette or Mari. When I was little my parents would call me Nette and Nettie.” The latter brought back nostalgic memories of walking through Paris, both her parents' hands in her own smaller grasp. They used to lift her from the ground and swing her through the air with each other step. Now, she wasn’t sure she could even remember the last time one of her parents had picked her up. Not like that really mattered right now, anyway.

“You sure you don’t prefer Master? Maybe ‘Guardian of the Miraculous’ suits you better?”

She rolled her eyes at him before stepping in front of her full length mirror. Hair pulled back in a bun, but otherwise untouched. Her frame was hidden under a thick, heavy gray sweatshirt, which pooled just beneath her shoulders, exposing a black tank top underneath. She had abandoned the sweatpants in favor of an ankle length white skirt. The silver ring on her finger fit in perfectly.

“It could use more black.” Plagg commented, looking her up and down in the reflection. 

Marinette smiled, made her way to her desk beneath her bed, and slipped a black messenger bag off a hook and over her shoulders. Plagg flew through the air to investigate it. After giving a few investigatory sniffs, he smiled and looked up at his holder.

“I’ll allow it.” He slipped inside the bag and curled into a black ball.

“Ready for our first day of school?”

“Your first day. I plan to sleep the whole time.” the black ball huffed without moving.

“Lucky you.”

She waved goodbye to the rest of the kwamis, smiling and nodding at their niceties and wishes for her to have a good first day back. It dawned on her as she left her home and began down the stairs to the bakery that this would be the first real time the kwamis were home alone. Marinette at school, parents in the bakery, they would have free roam of the home.

No, they know better than that. Or at least, Tikki, Sass, Wayzz, and Longg know better than that, and they could be trusted to keep the others in check. Right?

“Kid, don’t worry about them. They’re centuries old gods, they’ll be alright without you for a few hours.”

Marinette pouted her lip. “I wasn’t worrying about them.”

“You’re stopped on the first step and haven’t looked away from that door once.” Plagg yawned and poked his head over the top of her bag, peeking out at their surroundings. “Really, Marinette, they’re gonna be alright. Sugarcube knows how to keep them in line.” He chuckled.

She took a deep breath and continued down the stairs. “Sugarcube, huh? I think I’ve heard you say that before.”

“Little nickname I came up with a few decades ago for my Tikki. Fits her well, huh?”

“Perfectly.”

Plagg popped his head back in the bag as Marinette swung open the stairway door.

The bakery was bustling, as it always was the first morning of the week. People coming and going, buying their pastries and baked goods, or placing orders and grabbing business cards. Monday mornings were always Maris least favorite shift to work. Though she’d be willing to sacrifice her school day for a few hours work in the bakery right now, if her parents would let her.

“Good morning, Marinette! Hurry up to the school, it’s already nine o’clock— Your alarms have been going off for the past fifteen minutes.” Heavy emphasis on the if.

“Right. Sorry, Maman.” She was heading for the bakery doors when her father shouted out from behind her,

“Wait! Look sweetheart, I made you macaroons! You know, to take to school and share with your classmates,” Tom shifted from foot to foot as he spoke, a chunky cardboard box filed with macaroons balanced in his hands. “Since you’ve been- uh— well, you missed that first week and uh…”

Sabine softly jabbed an elbow into his ribs. “She’s already late, Tom.”

“Yeah, uhm, thanks Papa, but I should go—“

“Please, Nette? At the very least it’s… it’s a good conversation starter. You could even show off 

the logo you designed.” He settled on, big bushy eyebrows pushing together in a conceded frown. “I also packed some of those gougeres you asked me to make, in case you wanted one for a snack.”

“Fine, fine, hand it over.” Marinette huffed, cheeks warming at her fathers show of affection. It wasn’t part of the plan, but macaroons can’t exactly hurt, and Plagg was sure to be elated by the pastries. As for designs, she hadn’t touched her sketchbooks since the night at the Pont des Arts, and she wasn’t sure when she’d find time to do so again. Designing wasn’t a priority right now. She took the box from her dad, was decently surprised by its moderate weight, and placed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Bye, love you guys.” 

She hovered by the door a second more before deciding to add, 

“Also, my room is a mess, cause of a– uh, new… science project… so, um, just please don’t go in there. I’ll clean it when I get home. Bye!” Then jumped out the door before they could question her.

Perusing through the treats her father had sent with her, Marinette started towards the neighboring school. She had always viewed her home's proximity to the school as a burden, like some kind of curse. It meant everyone knew where the weirdo-klutz-baker girl— a favored victim of the Bourgeois— lived, and with her own bad luck, it always meant she was late. Daily.

Popping a lemon macaroon in her mouth, Marinette ascended the school stairs and considered the thought that maybe being late every day wasn’t the worst possible thing.

“Well, well, well! If it isn’t the ridiculous, dusty, dirty baker girl, late as always.” Speak of the devil. Suddenly the tangy lemon flavor turned as bitter and foul as the blonde bully. “Y’know, I was really hoping you had dropped out Dupain-Cheng. Only you would miss the entire first week of high school, and have the balls to show your face right in front of me.”

Chloe stood, waiting for her prey, tucked behind the large entrance doors to the school yard. She wore an expensive, brand name dress that began with a warm yellow and slowly turned to a rosy orange as it flowed down her body. Her patent white and gold themed sunglasses hung from a hand at her hip while the other twirled a pale lock of hair. Hovering just behind her, as always, was Sabrina. Her very own henchman.

Marinette bit back the growing retort bubbling inside of her. Fighting with Chloe was almost entirely the opposite of the plan. “Yup, I’m back from the dead. Could I get to class now?”

Her attacker blinked, before scoffing and drawing her face into a scowl. She threw the sunglasses to the girl behind her, pushed a manicured nail against Marinettes chest, and used the other to smack the box of treats from her hands. “No, you can’t go to class, your pathetic ass shouldn’t have even come to school! I’m the boss of this whole loser school, and now that I finally got Adrien out of that despicable home, I won’t allow you to ruin it for me! For us!”

Marinette was about to ask who this ‘Adrien’ person was, when a new voice chimed in, smothered in ridicule. “Wow, Chloe, I knew you were a bitch but this takes the cake even for you. If you’re the ‘boss’ around here, why have I heard at least seven people refer to you as ‘Blondezilla’?” Now at Marinette's side, with an arm slung around her shoulder, the third girl stood nonchalantly with an award winning, shit-eating grin beaming at Chloe. “I’m gonna guess you’ll say they’re fired, utterly fired!”

Chloe’s face began turning a violent shade of red as she glared daggers at the two girls, mouth opening and closing as she fumbled with a response. “Mind your own business, four-eyes.” She spat out at the girl, reaching out a hand to flick the lens of her glasses.

“Ouch, you wound me,” The girl thumped a fist against her chest, as if she’d been hit by an invisible weapon. Then she wagged a finger at the bullies and said, “If anything that just makes me feel even more sorry for Sabrina back there.”

The sweater vested, red headed girl cowering behind Chloe ignored the comment, opting instead to fidget with her own glasses and have a strict staring contest with the floor. Sabrina said nothing as she studied her shoes.

“If you had any idea what’s good for you, you’d shut up, Césaire.” Chloe’s words came out as a hiss through gritted teeth.

“If only, Bourgeois.”

With a final sneer, Chloe turned and walked away, followed by her henchman and the tic-tac of her shoes against the concrete. Leaving behind Marinette, and her mysterious savior.

“Thanks.” She said as she bent down to gather the box and its contents Chloe had spilled across the floor. Thankfully, a few macaroons had been spared, and the gougeres had been placed in their own packaging within the box.

“No problem. You’re, uh— fuck what was it… Mariette? Right? I’ve heard a lot about you in the past week. Everyone here missed you, a lot.” She stuck out a welcoming hand, helping her stand up. “My name's Alya, I’m a new student in your class.” Alya had warm brown skin, and thick, brown, curly hair down to her shoulders. The ends of her hair were dyed a soft orange-red color, and resting on the bridge of her nose were thick black glasses frames.

‘You haven’t heard enough to get my name right, apparently.’ She thought in passing annoyance before clearing her head with a soft shake. “It’s Marinette, nice to meet you Alya.” She shook Alyas hand with a polite smile. “Thanks for standing up for me, but you don’t have to. Chloe just likes making my life miserable, so I’m used to her bullshit by now. It doesn’t bother me anymore.”

“That’s because you let her, duh! It’s stupid.”

“Excuse me?”

Alya flinched back. “Sorry, that was kind of a mean way to say it, but it’s true. Have you ever heard the quote, ‘All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing.’?” She didn’t wait for a response as she continued, “Its from the greatest superhero ever, Majestia. It means a lot of things, but I like think the most important are; leaving or ignoring someone in need of help will only fuck everyone over in the end, the only way to take down a bad guy is doing it yourself, and if someone’s being a dick you’re allowed to make fun of them for it.”

Marinette blinked, stunned by what she’d just heard. She was not expecting some kind of lesson on the ‘triumphs of evil’ this early in the morning, or from someone taller than a soda can. ‘Alya and the kwamis would be sure to get along.’ She thought for a second before sighing, “I can understand that, but still. I don’t need a new student getting caught up in my drama.”

“Are you kidding?! Please let me get involved in your drama! I’m well aware I don’t need to, I want to.” Alya slung her arm across Marinette's shoulder again, slithered a hand into the box of treats, and returned victorious with a pomegranate macaroon between her fingers. She took a bite and smiled, “That’s what friends do. Friends, right?”

Marinette froze, the question bumbling around her brain. The light kick to her side from her bag told her Plagg thought she’d be stupid to decline, but the word ‘Yes’ wouldn’t quite come out. “Acquaintances, for now. Let’s see how the rest of today goes.”

Alyas eyes widened with surprise, then she looked at the half eaten sweet she was holding, and back to Marinette. The panic and mild guilt was evident in her expression, eliciting a genuine laugh and smile from Marinette.

“Have as many as you want, don’t worry about it. The baked goods don't cost any kind of friendship.” She said, opening the box lid as an offering. Alya helped herself, plucking another three macaroons from its confines. “I should probably get going to class.”

“You mean we.” Alya added quickly.

“Hm?”

“We should probably get going to class. I’m with Mme. Bustier too.”

“Oh, right.” Marinette yawned, still tired from her extensive learning and practice throughout the past week. She took a nibble of another macaroon, this one, strawberry. “I keep forgetting everyone else started last week. I know it’s not that long ago, but— I don’t know— I feel like an intruder. It’s weird.” She said as they began walking through the quickly clearing school yard.

“I’d feel the same way if blondie treated me like that the moment I stepped foot in the school. Don’t get me wrong, she hasn't been friendly, but she's been nowhere near as mean to me as she was to you today.”

“Yet.”

“Yeah, yet.” Alya waved a hand in the air, like she could shoo away the idea of Chloe. “Anyway, don’t let her get under your skin. This is your school too, same way it’s mine.”

Marinette's eyes stayed glued to her feet as they climbed the stairs and headed for the classroom door. “I’m not worried about Chloe anymore. I have bigger problems under my skin to deal with already. I just want school to be school.”

“You…do know this is the start of high school, right? A.K.A the period of time people make entire movies, shows, and books about?” Alya questioned in a teasing manner before swinging open the door and stepping into the busy atmosphere. “The dramas going to happen anyway, might as well try to enjoy it!”

No one stopped to acknowledge their entrance, no burning stares turned onto Marinette and no one was whispering about why she was only just now starting school. ‘Maybe it’s a bit egotistical, thinking everyone in class would spend all their time thinking about you.’ She thought, taking another bite of her macaroon and timidly following Alya to an open table, towards the front-right part of the room.

Alya took her seat and excitedly patted the space beside her for her new acquaintance. “I was told to save you a spot last week.”

Marinette paused, casting a glance around the room at the bustling students and landing on a table in the second row, on the left side of the room. Where she had sat through all of last year, with Soqueline. Now Chloe and her drone resided in those seats, while Nino and…some new blonde boy took up the table in front of them. Marinette gave Nino a sympathetic frown, though he wasn’t looking anywhere near her. He hated sitting in the front of the class.

“Earth to Marinette!” Alya snapped her fingers mere inches away from Marinette's nose, capturing her lost attention. “You do that a lot, don’t you?”

“Sorry. I try not to, just get lost in thought.” Marinette inspected her new spot, noticing the small addition her table mate had added. A bright pink sticky note that read ‘MLLE. DUPAIN-CHENG’ was stuck onto the back, like she had reserved it ahead of time.

“Fancy, huh?” Alya asked, eyebrows jumping up and down with amusement. It was easy to see she found herself hilarious.

“How much did the reservation cost?”

“You don't want to know.”

Marinette rolled her eyes playfully and took her seat with a smile. “I think it's very fancy, thank you Alya.” She removed the sticky note from the back of the chair, folding it carefully to tuck away for later. As she fiddled with the small paper, her attention wandered around the classroom. 

Juleka and Rose, sitting together like always, although now with a lot less space between one another. Mylene and Ivan were on opposite sides of the room, but it didn’t stop him from stealing quick glances at her. Kim and Alix were arguing about who’d win in an arm wrestle, while Max provided the possible outcomes of said wrestling match. At the back of the classroom, Nathaniel was bent protectively over his sketchbook as he drew. She watched him for a few moments before her gaze went back to the table she used to occupy, and its two newest occupants.

Alya stared at her with a weary look, before tapping her shoulder in quick repetition. “I get that he’s handsome, and a famous model, but you can’t be into him that fast, girl.”

Marinette looked back at her, one eyebrow arched in complete confusion and her mouth hanging open, awaiting an explanation.

“Weren’t you just gawking at Adrien?”

Adrien? Adrien. Adrien! “That’s Chloe's boytoy or whatever, yeah?” She questioned, swiveling her head back to the two boys across from them, trying to catch a glimpse of the blonde one— Adrien’s— face.

For a model, his outfit lacked any kind of style. An open, white button up overtop a cool gray shirt. A boring  teal pair of pants, though they were leaning more towards a turquoise. And to top it off, orange converse that burned into her memory like a red, hot branding iron. She could ignore all that though, because of his face. His resplendent expression. His laugh that made her tune out any other noise. His golden hair that looked like he’d been blessed by King Midas himself.

He was definitely handsome, and he was definitely a model. Adrien Agreste, famous model and teen heart-throb, son of the beloved late actress Emilie Agreste and the globally revered fashion designer Gabriel Agreste— one of Marinette's idols in the world of design—, was a new student in her class. She’d have recognized him faster if he’d been wearing one of the famous designs he’d so often advertise, but that wasn’t exactly conventional school attire.

“She’s dating him?”

“It definitely seems that way from her behavior, but the first day she made a big deal about how she and her ‘Adrikins’ are childhood best friends. They practically grew up together, so they’re family to each other. She said something about having to convince Adrien’s dad to let him attend public school for the first time, called him ‘Uncle Gabe’ or something.” Alya said with a nonchalant shrug. “But that did all come from Chloe, so take it with a grain of salt.”

“What the fuck.” Marinette stated with blunt disbelief, making Alya burst out laughing. “That’s literally Adrien Agreste. I had no clue they were so close— shit, I didn’t even know he was going to the same school as me, until now.” Marinette sat back in shock, mind running through all his fathers designs she’d looked up to over the years. “No wonder she took my seat.”

Alya gave her a quizzical stare, one that said ‘Do you not see the amazing chair you’re currently sitting in?’

“For all of eighth grade, me and my best friend sat where Chloe and Sabrina are right now. I thought they’d taken it just to bother me, but I guess even Chloe takes a break from her evil ways.” She explained “I know it’s kind of ridiculous, but I was honestly looking forward to having that seat again. That’s ridiculous, isn’t it?”

“Only when you compare that seat to your new fabulous one!” Alya joked, but quickly recoiled when Marinette didn’t laugh in return. “Sorry. That’s not ridiculous, if I’d known I would have reserved that spot instead.”

That one did make Marinette chuckle. “I’ll live, but I appreciate the thought.” She rubbed the iridescent ring with her thumb, eyeing the flower centerpiece. “Anyways, it’s like I said earlier. I have bigger problems than Chloe Bourgeois.”

The bell rang out, and class began, cutting off the conversation. The rest of the day passed along at a sluggish rate, each hour-and-a-half long class slowly boring Marinette to death. Mme. Mendeleiev had rambled on and on about the periodic table without even pausing for air, M. D’Argencourt made the class run laps all period long because Kim wouldn’t stop cracking jokes, and to top it all off, Plagg had eaten all the gougeres by the time lunch eventually came around. So, she sat with Alya, sharing a few pieces of her lunch.

“How do your parents run a bakery, and you don’t have lunch for school?” Alya teased as she ripped open a small bag of salted potato chips, then popped one in her mouth.

“Poor time management skills.” Marinette shrugged, reaching over and snatching a chip for herself. “When we were in second or third grade, Chloe used to steal my lunches.”

“That’s so fucked.”

Marinette let out a small laugh, “Right? Jokes on her though, my mom would make me traditional chinese meals. Imagine eight year old Chloe eating tofu for the first time.”

Alya snorted at the thought, then looked around the room with realization. “Speaking of, where is she? She almost always comes to bother me at lunch.” ---

Public school was almost nothing like he had expected. Even after everything Chloe had told him throughout all the years, nothing would have prepared him. It was… weird being recognized in public. The first day people had flocked around him in crowds, all pleading for pictures and autographs. When class began, he would mess up attendance out of pure confusion, or he’d get lost trying to find a book in the library. Adrien stuck out from the rest of the class like a sore thumb, even though he had joined at the beginning of the school year like everyone else.

Truth be told, he mostly had himself to blame for the latter problem. After a week of his childhood friend endlessly berating his father, Adrien had been allowed to attend school. He had stayed by Chloe’s side each day like she was his security blanket, and when he wasn’t stuck to her, she was undoubtedly stuck to him. Walking beside him in every hallway, sitting beside him in every class they had together, and practically hissing at anyone that approached them.

The other students had been nice enough, asked his name if they hadn’t already known it, and said good morning when they passed by, but they all seemed a bit weary of him. Like he was someone to avoid, to be scared of. Someone you didn’t want to be around. It wasn’t the impression Adrien had been wanting to give.

Despite that, he had made one new friend. In Mme. Bustiers class, a person besides Chloe finally took the seat beside him. Granted, it was because he was assigned to sit there, but he was next to Adrien nonetheless. Nino had been closed off for the first half of that beginning week, but he had slowly come around to the new boy. What started with frustrated grumbles about being moved to the front of the room and untrusting side eyes, slowly turned to sharing music recommendations and watching videos together in the mornings before class began. Adrien wasn’t sure what he’d done to get on Nino's good side, but he was happy to have him as a friend.

Chloe wasn’t as thrilled about sitting behind the two of them, but it wasn’t enough to stir her to action. She still got to be near Adrien, and she had Sabrina right at her side. Not to mention, it was a… refreshing break from her constant presence. Sometimes Adrien felt like her very own real life Mr. Cuddly, the stuffed bear Chloe has clung to since they were toddlers. He preferred when they felt more like cousins, siblings even.

That's what made him wander back to the classroom early, with a handful of minutes for lunch still to spare. Chloe was nowhere to be seen the entire meal, which in Adriens experience, meant only bad things were happening.

He came straight up to the door, then leaned his head carefully against it to listen inside. After a few silent seconds, he slowly opened the door– just an inch– taking the utmost care to remain silent.

Chloe was perched atop the table where Marinette and Alya sat, with Sabrina kneeling on the ground by her feet. “Ready?” she asked the girl accompanying her.

She nodded, to which Chloe fished the gum out of her mouth and into her friends' waiting hands. Sabrina carefully took the chewed wad of gum, obviously hesitant to even touch it, and practically threw it onto the seat. She pressed her thumb against it, then smeared the sticky substance across the surface. Her eyebrows were quivering with nerves as she did so.

“Perfect, Brina! God, this is going to be so funny.” Chloe clapped her hands in quick succession as she praised, voice thick with amusement.

“Chloe? What are you doing to Marinette's seat?” Adrien interrupted, stepping inside the classroom with a concerned expression. The two girls turned to look at him, first both in surprise, then one in guilt and the other is annoyance.

“I'm just commanding a little respect from certain brats. Go back outside, Adrikins, you’re not involved in this.” Chloe rolled her eyes as she disregarded him.

“What? How is this about respect?” Adrien asked, walking closer to the bench. He kneeled beside Sabrina, nudging aside Chloe to reach the tampered chair. “I thought you were above childish pranks, Chlo.” He frowned at her, inspecting the gummy seat with a cautious hand.

“I’m not above anything when it comes to Dupain-Cheng.” She grumbled in response, but made no effort to stop the boy.

“Nino told me about your weird vendetta against her. Is she that girl in all those stories you’ve told me? The one that you say hates you?” Adrien huffed, now prodding at the gum with a tissue covered finger.

Chloe shuffled her feet uneasily in response.

“I thought so. I love you Chloe, but the only brat I see here is you.”

The classroom door swung open behind them, followed by an exasperated gasp. Before Adrien could turn and open his mouth to explain, Alya had pulled him from the floor, first clenched into the neck of his shirt. The rest of their class stood behind her in the doorway, eagerly watching.

“What are you blonde bitches doing now?!” She demanded. Chloe stepped back, shielding behind Sabrina as Adrien was ambushed. Seeing Alyas' furious expression only made the two girls laugh.

“I wasn’t—!” He began, only to get interrupted.

“Oh, really mature you three. Gum in her seat! What’s next, gonna start pulling her hair and stealing her lunch too?” Alya shoved him backwards with a pointed look at Chloe, throwing the boy into Ninos arms, who jumped to his defense.

“Woah, woah! He didn’t do anything, Adrien’s a good dude, alright? Just hear him out.” The taller boy argued, helping to steady his friend with two hands on his shoulders. Adrien shot him a grateful smile.

“I saw it with my own eyes, he was literally sticking it to her chair when we walked—”

“I was trying to remove it!” Adrien stressed, hands raising to pinch and pull at the back of his neck. A nervous habit he’d developed since Maman passed.

“See, he was just trying to help.”

“We didn’t ask for his help.” Alya was inches away from Ninos face, with clenched fists at the ready by her sides.

Marinette stepped behind her, hand tugging gently at her arm in an attempt to alleviate the tension. “It’s fine, Alya. The damage is already done anyways, just leave it.” She whispered into her ear, eyes glued to the two boys. Adrien stared back at her, his eyes a mixture of cautious hope and guilt-racked pity. Even if he was telling the truth, and removing the gum, part of him still felt responsible for it.

Alya gave her a unsure side eye, but ultimately heaved a frustrated sigh. “Fine, fine. Just get out of our way.” She huffed, waving away the two boys with a scornful glare. Nino gave her a weary look before leading Adrien away to their respective bench.

The growing crowd of students dispersed, settling into their own seats with nosy whispers as the passing period transitioned to an end. Marinette reached down to inspect her side of the bench, now ruined with seemingly invulnerable gum, and frowned as she quickly gathered tissues to layer over top of it.

“I’ll clean it off, I swear.” Alya said, reading her expression. She reached out a hand to rest on Marinette's shoulder in a friendly gesture, something that said ‘I’m sorry, that sucked.’ or ‘Don’t worry, it’s okay.’, neither of which Marinette needed to hear.

“Don't worry about it.” She sighed, taking her seat with great care to avoid the gum. "Thanks for standing up for me again, Alya." Marinette turned to look at the girl as she took her seat beside her, "You're a good friend."

Alyas mouth formed a small 'o' in surprise, then spread into a big smile. She hooked an arm around her new friends hip, and pulled her into a tight bear-hug. "Of course, girl!" ---

Normally, rain wouldn’t deter her from the quick minute long jog across the street to her home. But this was a steady downpour, bringing fat drops that bounced off your head like marbles. Dirty water pooled at the curbside and threatened to flood the streets. A few seconds out under the clouds would waterlog her, undoubtedly.

Accompanying the constant drumming of the rain was the frequent crack and boom of thunder in the distance, paired with a bright flash of lightning. Each time another light struck, it would reflect from the sky onto the wet pavement, followed by the familiar thundering clap ringing out soon after.

It was the kind of storm Marinette would love, were she nestled away safely in her room, watching through a closed window. Now, all she could think of was that she hadn’t asked if any of the kwamis were scared of loud storms. Dogs will sometimes freak out from thunder, could Barkk be cowering under her bed? Was Daizzi rolling in mud puddles outside, forgetful of the rules Marinette had put in place?

Suffice to say, some separation anxiety had blossomed in her weeks with the kwamis.

“Marinette?”

She jumped in surprise, somehow managing to suppress an involuntary squeak. Adrien stood behind her, inquisitive expression burning holes through Marinette's skin.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Adrien.” He stuck out a hand in greeting, eyes never wavering from her face.

She squirmed under his direct gaze. “I know you're Adrien. Do you need something?” She asked quietly, avoiding meeting his eyes with her own. Briefly, she considered whether or not ruining her sweater in the rain was worth the escape after all.

“Oh, no, no, I— Well, I just— I just wanted to say sorry.” He stumbled over his words, clearly struggling with what to say. When it became clear she wasn't going to shake his hand, it anxiously found its way back to his neck. “For the gum, and not explaining properly, and… Chloe. I know she’s been horrible to you.”

Marinette watched in silent awe, not daring to speak. Bullies didn’t often apologize in her experience.

“For what it’s worth, I really was trying to remove it. Chloe isn’t perfect, believe me, I know that better than a lot of people— Well, probably not you— and…and she can be childish and petty, but I can't throw her under the bus. I know she can be good too,” Adrien rambled, free hand motioning in the space between them. “Before last week, I had never been to school before. Because I’ve known her since we were little kids, Chloe had been my only friend. She was the one that was able to convince my father to let me go to school.”

The rain continued in the background. What had been a persistent pounding of water against earth was turned into white noise around him.

“The only new friend I’ve made is Nino, and I don’t even know how I managed that.” He chuckled, pulling aside his bag and taking an umbrella from it. “It’s all sorta new to me, you know? I’m still trying to figure it out.” he opened the umbrella and peeked out to the street. “Is your ride getting here soon?”

“I-I’m walk... doing walk—The walking thing — Me t-that. No car.” The word vomit poured forth without control, leaving Marinette in a daze. What had she just said? Doing the walking thing?

Somehow, it didn’t affect Adrien. He looked up at the still darkening clouds with a frown, “You’re going to get drenched if you’re walking.” They stood in silence for a few moments, the only sound between them being the timely rumble of thunder. Then, a sleek, dark gray limo pulled to the school's curb, fitting neatly over the intimidating puddle. Adrien pursed his lips in thought, then stuck out his hand, with the umbrella in his grip. “I think you need this more than me.”

Marinette blinked in confusion, eyes bouncing between the outstretched hand and its owner's face. “No, I’m-I… it’s just a-a cute— quick walk, really, I—”

“Consider it an offering of friendship!” He pressed the handle to her palm before she could refuse anymore than she already had, then turned, raised his bag over his head, and ran out into the storm. It was like he passed through a waterfall, the way the rain soaked him through in a few seconds. Halfway to the fancy car, he looked back over his shoulder, rain water dripping from his hair despite the desperate cover he’d attempted. “It was nice to meet you, Marinette!” He shouted over the hissing of the rain.

Her eyes wide, still in shock, Marinette opened her mouth to yell back, maybe something like ‘Thanks, Adrien! I forgive you!’ or ‘Do I need to give this back?’, when the umbrella folded inward on her. A loud burst of laughter followed, and when she raised the plastic covering from her eyes, Adrien was standing at the open car door with a delighted smile, taking his time in the downpour. He raised a hand, waved goodbye, then climbed in the limo to the tune of his disgruntled chauffeurs complaints.

“Hello, Adrien, how was your day? Who is that girl there?” Nathalie asked politely from the front seat, eyes fixed on him through the rear view mirror. His bodyguard grumbled and frowned, grumpy about the soggy teenager sitting in his pristine backseat, but pulled the car back out into the road and back to the Agreste mansion.

“My day was incredible, Nathalie. That’s Marinette, a new friend of mine.” He said, eyes filled with joy.

“That’s wonderful, Adrien. I’m happy to hear you’re doing well in all aspects of school.” She praised, then turned her attention back to the tablet in her hands. ---

Marinette waved a shaky goodbye, which continued long after the limo pulled away and out of sight. With a long— and exaggeratedly loud— stretch, Plagg flew from her bag to float by her side. “First day back and you’ve already found yourself a boyfriend! Good job picking a rich one, it’s exactly what I woulda done.” He purred with an affectionate tease.

“No, no, no. No way. He’s—He’s just a friend, and that’s it, and that’s all he is! I do not have a crush on him. I don’t.” Marinette's brain instantly went into panic mode, alarms ringing off in her head at the idea. She had no time for romances, she barely had time for friendships.

Plagg flicked his tail from side to side, saying nothing, but staring her down with an eyebrow that said ‘Really?’

“I don’t!” She insisted, umbrella waving wildly as she motioned with her entire body. Marinette let out a long, frustrated groan, then closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she let it out, she turned back to Plagg, face serious and focused. “The miraculous has to come first. Above everything else, everything, I need to be the guardian and the black cat.”

She walked forward without waiting for an answer, umbrella partially shielding her and her kwami from the rain as she made for the bakery across the street. The stoic expression plastered on her face was a good try, but the way her eyes kept darting back to the street the gray limo had sped away on was betraying her thoughts.

“I ever tell you how brave you are, Kid?”

“You can tell me once I’ve beaten my first akuma.”

The bakery door swung open with the sing-songy ‘Ting!’ of its bell, announcing a visitor. With a storm like that, it was no wonder the bakery was empty of any costumers, and Marinette quickly made her way up to her home. Inside the living room, her parents were cuddled on the couch, both asleep in front of a long ended movie.

“Now I see where you get it from. What a bunch of lovebirds.” Plagg gagged quietly from beside his holder.

She shot him an exhausted glare, silencing anymore playful attempts on his behalf. Marinette gently laid a blanket across her parents, turned off the tv, and climbed the stairs to her room.

Inside was a mess. Craft supplies and decorations were scattered across the floor, the cat pillow she kept in her bed was propped at the computer like a person, and the kwamis were wreaking utter havoc. Some swinging from light fixtures and railings, others painting and drawing on the pale pink walls, and she thought she saw some quickly hide a game of cards.

Not as bad as she had imagined.

Tikki flew to her guardian with urgency, face fraught with worry. “Oh, Marinette, I’m so, so sorry! We tried to keep them all in line but—”

“Master Fu would contain us all within the miracle box for this very reason! Some kwamis are not to be trusted on their lonesome!” Longg interjected, his usually calm face pulled down into a disappointed frown.

“We will clean it all, don’t worry, young Marinette.” Sass reassured her with a solemn expression.

Marinette nodded, observing the state of her room. It would take a few hours, if not an entire day, to bring back to its original state. “Everyone’s inside, all safe, no worries?”

The kwamis she had left in charge looked between each other before the bug spoke up, “Well, yes, but—”

“Then it’s okay. Just—just clean it all up, and it’s okay. You guys did a good job being in charge.” Marinette complimented with a smile, then walked across the room to her desk, and to the bonsai set atop it, just beside her sewing machine. She pulled it forward, studying it as it sat in front of her. The Miracle Tree had sprouted a few new buds of growth. “Are you ready, Tikki?”

“Do you think it’s time?” Tikki chirped, flying into place above the plant. She must be so impatient, so antsy without her old guardian and no new holder, yet she hadn’t made a single complaint. Marinette thought of how she would manage being guardian without the little bugs support in her ear. It was going to be hard without her.

“Yeah, I do.” She decided, fingernails digging into her palms. It wasn’t an easy decision to make. Tikki flew effortlessly through the yin-yang symbol marked in the tree stump, phasing through the wood with a hazy pink light. She reappeared moments later, small jewelry case in hand. Marinette took it slowly, hesitant to remove the earrings from the safety of the tree, scared to let them out into the world where she couldn’t hide them away. 

Still, that was one job she couldn’t do herself. “I need a ladybug holder, and fast.”

[bakageta]

I think I'm gonna post Blue Beetle stuff here first and not worry about things like editing and coming up with a summary and thinking up a title. I'm running off vibes right now and don't wanna wait.

This is totally inspired by @wazzappp's anatomy post. I already wanted to do something about why it took (relatively) longer for Jaime's back to heal and that post just gave me more to write about. I wanna write more too! So throw body horror ideas at me plz!!!!

---

After the wake and the funeral and the burial and the mourning, after everything calmed down and everyone had a chance to breathe, Jaime looked at the scarab on his back again.

It wasn’t the first time he’d showered since everything, of course, but it was the first time he’d been able to focus on his thoughts instead of quietly disassociating until he was clean. Now he was appreciating the amenities in the hotel suite Jenny’d set the Reyes family up in while their home was repaired. There was a rainfall shower head. The toilet had an actual bidet that had sprayed Rudy’s ass the first time he’d taken a shit.

As always Khaji was ticking away in the back of his head, reassuringly present in a way Jaime didn’t want to look too closely at yet. It didn’t say anything though.

“Soap won’t bother you, right?” He hadn’t scrubbed himself down in a week or so. Partly because he’d been busy and then distracted, but also because just the shampoo running down his back during the first shower after it all had burned at the raw edges between his skin and Khaji Da.

Correct. We are fully healed now.

“Bien.” He squeezed the last of the sample sized hotel soap onto a washcloth and reached over his shoulder to start scrubbing. The scarab between his shoulder blades is anchored firmly, he can feel its legs under his muscles. 

That wasn’t a surprise. Jaime had felt every moment of Khaji burrowing up his spine and digging a home in his back. What was new was the strange… straps? the straps crossed above his shoulders and under his arms beneath his skin. They came from the scarab, where its front and back legs would be like, like it was some kind of awful fucking backpack.

“Khaji?” Jaime dropped the washcloth and shifted so he was able to trace up his spine. The three knots of alien tissue that Khaji had left like breadcrumbs also had straps running below his skin. Bending forward, Jaime realized he was able to feel where the straps anchored and the dips in his back where nothing had changed. “What am I feeling Khaji?”

The anchors for my carapace and sensory nodes. It hesitated, something it had only started doing after, as it started to learn when and when not to elaborate. They secure me and reduce the risk of damage or dislodgement. The growth of new tissue is why your back took so long to heal. Our efforts were split: your body prioritized your epidermis and my systems prioritized my security.

Sure. That made sense. Self preservation was a thing for alien symbiotes. The odd tug Jaime’d felt moving around was the growth of Khaji’s anchors and not muscle soreness like he’d assumed. Or maybe Khaji’s anchors counted as muscles. Wonderful. It also answered a question he’d never thought to ask: why his back had looked so bad for so long while cuts and scrapes healed in minutes. Great.

The hotel probably didn’t let guests on the roof.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t get there.

Jaime waited until after his shower, after Millagro took over the bathroom, after he hugged Mama and Nana, and after he swore up and down to Rudy that he wasn’t gonna fly off, to go to the roof. He made his way up the stairs, shorted out the electronic lock with a subtle lick of blue energy, and laid down on the flat gravel and tar paper roof. Like this he could feel Khaji and its nodes digging into his back alongside larger chunks of stone, foreign objects embedded in his body.

The sky was clear, but this close to Palmera, the stars might as well be invisible except for the most bright. Still enough to ground Jaime, to make him feel a part of life when everything was too much. A jet flew overhead, beacon flashing against the night. Jaime wondered if it was coming or going. 

Flight DL1332 is on approach to Palmera International, Khaji intoned.

“Huh. How d’you figure?” Jaime folded his hands behind his head to cushion it. 

After a moment the itching growth of the blue beetle’s carapace spread across the backs of his hands and arms. It stopped short of the full thickness armor Khaji was capable of, only forming the tough black underlayer.

They are communicating using radio frequencies. It is not difficult to interpret.

“Cool.”

Would you like to listen?

Jaime sighed. “Sure.”

Static faded into Jaime’s ears, interrupted regularly by steady trailing voices. It was calming. Like listening to another language, even though the pilots and controllers were still speaking English.

[swallowedbyfandom]

Her chambers soon begin to look like a florist shop. Colin has been a busy bee, she will give him that. He has sent her beautiful elaborate bouquets everyday this week with sweet little cards attached. In the week since that awful dinner at Bridgerton house Colin has managed to purchased a home in Bloomsbury. He has also interviewed and hired several servants to fill household positions. There have been trips to the lawyers and other legal affairs that has the Ton holding their breath. It is clear to all he is preparing to take a wife.

Her mother observes the situation with a shark's predatory anticipation. It is almost makes Penelope sad that her mother cannot see what he does not do. He has not gone to see a doctor yet nor has he had one come to call. She is serious about that, she had once overheard a midwife tell her mama that certain illness can led to infertility. While at the time she did not understand, what they were speaking on she does now. Her Papa's whoring likely left her mama unable to carry a child again. Colin has not come to call and he still has not come to her mama to formally declare his intentions to court her.

Frankly she has stated clearly what her expectations are for a suitor. That he is still falling short of her expectations is his own doing. He had eight weeks to work with. He just burned nine days of that with half measures. Flowers are a nice gesture but they are an empty gesture when she has a home filled with gentlemen callers daily. When they take time from their day to hand deliver her flowers and sweets. When they line up and wait to spend time with her. He is stalling, and falling woefully behind.

She is standing with Agatha who has used her dragon's glare to give her succor during the last three balls. The pickings of available bachelors worth spending time with tonight is minuscule. They are in the middle of giggling like schoolgirls over Lord Duncan trying to hide behind a curtain, when she spots Francesca looking uncomfortable with Lord Samadani. She lets out an aggravated sigh.

"Please pardon me. I must rescue Fran from the Queen's import. Please let her Majesty know they are incompatible. He wants an army of children and Francesca does not want more than two." Agatha lets out a snort, with a knowing smirk.

She makes her way over to Fran who is politely trying to give the Marquis a not so subtle hint. She flashes Fran a reassuring smile and smoothly cuts into Lord Samadani's ramble.

"Please pardon my interruption, my Lord. Francesca, Lady Danbury has been trying to get your attention. I believe she has a message from your mama to pass along."

Francesca gives her a relieved smile, before turning to excuse herself from Lord Samadani. Penelope opens mouth to excuse herself also, when she spots Fife making his way over to her.

She grabs Lord Samadani's arm and turns her wide panic filled eyes on him. She speaks rapidly.

"You must sign my card and take me to dance immediately."

To his credit he reaches for her dance card as he speaks.

"Why am I breaking the rules of etiquette to dance with a Lady I have not yet been introduced to?"

"You are a gentleman are you not? I am a Lady in distress. What better reason is there?"

They take their positions on the dance floor.

"Are you really in distress?" He asks her.

She places her hand on his shoulder and relaxes her frame while responding.

"I assure you my Lord, any Lady with sense would be distressed by Lord Fife. I am sure that if I am forced to dance with him once more tonight I shall stab him with a dessert fork."

He releases a deep rich laughter that draws attention to them. He smirks at her.

"May I have the name of the violent lady I am to dance with?"

Giggles escape her as she demurs.

"Penelope Featherington, my Lord. However I dispute the claim that I am violent. I prefer the term vigilant." She frowns as she continues speaking. "Lord Fife is swine. He enjoys making comments that are improper. While I may not understand the actual innuendos, I understand his leering looks enough to be uncomfortable."

The Marquis looks decidedly less amused by that. His frame carries a tension now it did not before. She distracts him with questions about his country. He is surprisingly charming and intelligent. He escorts to her to Albion after their set is complete and once he sees Lord Fife approaching again, this time trailed by Colin he signs her card for a second dance. Thankfully it is her last spot available on her dance card. She gives him a curtsy while graciously thanking him for his aid. Now she has a viable reason to deny Fife and Colin both a dance.

Colin is lucky she is not holding a drink in her hand when he asked why she did not keep a dance available for him. She for certain would have thrown it into his face at that moment. The hubris of that question fills her with rage. They have been at this ball for hours if he wanted to dance with her he should have asked when she arrived. She has danced six sets tonight with a variety of different gentlemen. She has danced an additional four sets that were second dances. Lord Samadani will be the fifth Gentleman she has a second dance with that night. That Colin thought he would swoop in the last hour of the ball and finally grace her with his presence. He must believe her desperate or still a silly girl waiting for crumbs of his attention.

The carriage ride back is entirely too long in Penelope's opinion. Her mother has spent the ride blatantly evaluating Penelope. She allows her mother to look her fill without comment until she figures out which question she wants to ask. Finally Portia seems to make up her mind.

"Have you finally given up on Mr. Bridgerton?"

She rolls her eyes. God, her mama is so short sighted.

"Contrary to what you like to believe I had never really set my sights on Mr. Bridgerton."

Her mother scoffs in response.

She makes a dismissive gesture with her hand, before she continues speaking.

"You don't have to believe me. Your opinion in the grand scheme of things matters very little. I have always adored the Bridgertons as a whole. It is also true I have always held tender feelings for Colin. However I never expected anything to come from it. I was aware that our close childhood bond would always have him viewing me as a little girl. I did not try to entice him. I never felt the potential fallout with his family to be worth the risk."

"If I were as blinded by love as you believe, I would have accepted his proposal. I did not because I am no longer certain he would be an ideal husband for me. He has allowed peer pressure to dictate a change in his values and behavior. What use would I have for a fickle husband?"

"If he wants to be my husband he will prove it. He will swallow his pride, eat his words and court me publicly. He doesn't get a pass because we were childhood playmates. We are not children any longer. I will not marry unless I am sure my husband will not leave me and our children in dire straits the way papa did to us. I am more practical than you believe."

"I do not need to be in love to marry well. I am looking for a stable partner I can grow to love. I am looking for a man who will think disappointing me is a fate worse than death. Who will choose me and our children before anything else. I would rather be a spinster than settle for less than that."

Her mother's lips are white with how hard they are pursed together.

"Colin Bridgerton looks down on our family, mama. He thinks he would be doing me a favor by marrying me, and saving me the shame of the Featherington name. Our family may be a scandalous mess, but we are survivors. While I am not proud to be a Featherington, I am proud to be Penelope Featherington. If I allow him the upper hand of being my white knight now, he will have it forever."

Her mama looks so pensive. Penelope allows herself to lean forward and drop a kiss on her forehead.

"I have been caring for myself for years now, mama. Put your efforts on my sisters they need you, I do not."

Her mama seems to startle at that. " I have tried my best with all of you girls. You know that right?"

Penelope exhales heavily she is too tired and short tempered for this conversation.

"No you did not. You tried and failed with my sisters. Phil and Pru are helpless and without a single drop of cunning. You married them to idiots. Albion and Philippa I can understand. They are in love and happy but neither of them is particularly bright. They are one shady steward away from poverty. Albion needs someone to teach him how to run an estate. Hopefully his parents will do so."

"Pru and Harry are doomed. Harry is sweet and simple, Pru will take advantage of him. While the Dankworth fortune is sizable, it is not so sizable that it can withstand Prudence's spending and inheriting the debt remaining on the Featherington estate."

"That your daughter's are completing to inherit that debt, should tell you everything you need to know. Yes a son will secure the title of Baron but it will also inherit the mess Papa and Jack made. If either of my sister's had sense they would pray for a daughter. If you had sense you would remarry and wash your hands of papa's mess. That is why I have finally entered the marriage mart. I am looking to wash my hands of our family."

"You have never tried to help me succeed, mama. Everything I am, I am in spite of you. Perhaps you were trying to make me strong? I doubt it though you are not a long term planner. You love me. I know this but you do not like me. That is fine. I feel the same way. We do not have to play pretend with each other, mama. We are adults."

Her mother remains quiet after that. She knows she has broken something irreparable between her mother and her. However they have been broken for years. Why should she be the only person to carry that burden?

She has carried the Featheringtons far enough. She has kept them off the streets. The more she thinks on it the more she realizes that the money she has set aside for her mother is unearned. Why would she leave almost half her earnings for her mother to spend on tacky gowns? Let her mother count on her son in laws or let her remarry.

She has worked hard to secure her future. Why the hell would she leave behind half her fortune? No. She isn't leaving anything behind. She has already done more for them, than they ever did for her.

[thesweetestdevotion]

Can you please do how would Twice Sana be as a girlfriend? Thanks 💕

Hey! I love twice!! lets do it!:

Twice Sana as a Girlfriend:

Dice: Pisces, Mercury, 4th House

Tarot: Two of Cups Reversed, Seven of Coins, Two of Coins Reversed, Page of Wands Reversed, Ten of Cups, Four of Coins Reversed, Four of Wands, The Fool, Page of Cups

Awww! okay dont send me hate for this but shes a bit delulu hehe. Shes the type to have private thoughts about relationships that are very elaborate? a very romantic imagination. the type of girl to see a person on the bus and be imagining their getaway wedding by the time she gets off hehe. I do see here she's like that becuse her romantic past has left her unfulfilled. maybe shes been dissapointed before, but i see this cominng up in any new relationship she could have.

Shes not clingy or asking for reassurance all the time, its the opposite really! shes the type to internalize these emotions way too much to the point of hurting herself. She could have a lot of intrusive thoughts about breaking up, or doing something wrong and being abandoned (aww;(() On the brighter side, shes very family oriented and wants marriage, the type of girl that would make a house a home! shes so warm and comforting and very sweet! a little goofy and childlike at times. Shes very generous with her time and money, a good gift-giver. This generosity can lead her to become unbalanced at times if she overindulges her person too much.

She would be compatible with a person who is also as overindulgent and giving as she is, In order to maintain that balance that would help her remain undrained. She likes to show her partner that she is capable, a bit of a praise-kink here! she loves to receive praise, love, attention, but doesnt like to ask for it, which can lead her to heartbreak if she feels unappreciated (you gotta ask for it mama!!) i feel her reserved nature could affect her relationships, shes extremely empathetic to the point of being almost psychic (hehe) so shes able to easily read emotions on her partner. This could lead her to feel unloved however as shes not able to grasp why her partner is not as in tune as she is. Shes also just drawn to people who seem mysterious because it gives her something to try and read and figure out, but ultimately shes one of the few people ive come across that would really benefit from dating someone very similar to her.

thats all i'm getting for now, love this vibe, shes soo so sweet <3

[lords-of-mayhem]

I love Social Cues by cage the elephant! I know it’s one of their more recently popular songs but I really feel like it didn’t get the love it deserves.

Would you care to elaborate on your country music stance? Where I’m from is like 80% country music so personally I’m pretty tired of it but can’t admit there are lots of great country songs - 🐈‍⬛

I love Cage The Elephant so much and Social Cues is a fantastic song that doesn't get the love it deserves. Have you gotten to see them live? They are fantastic. I've seen them a few times and one of those was actually their tour with Beck for the Night Running album which is what Social Cues came out on.

And I personally love country! I was very fortunate to grow up with a family that played a lot of different genres, everything from country to punk to metal to you name it. (There is also a lot of musicians in my family and one of them is a locally very well-known country musician.) I like country a lot, so it always sucks to see people hate on it. Especially because I know a lot of people only think of the whole "I love God, guns, and hunting" or stadium country when they think of country, but country is so much more and it can be so fun.

I always like shouting out country songs that I think people will listen to and go, "oh! Country can actually be a genre I like."

And some people don't even realize they like country. Dolly Parton? Country. Sweet Caroline? Country. Country Roads Take Me Home? Country. The Devil Went Down To Georgia? Country.

Here are some of my personal favorites when it comes to country that other people might like too.

Bad Moon Rising // Creedence Clearwater Revival

I see a bad moon rising, I see trouble on the way. I see earthquakes and lightning, I see bad times today. Don't go round tonight, well, it's bound to take your life. There's a bad moon on the rise.

I hear hurricanes a-blowing, I know the end is coming soon. I feel rivers overflowing, I hear the voice of rage and ruin. Hope you got your things together.

Hope you are quite prepared to die. Looks like we're in for nasty weather. One eye is taken for an eye.

If Heaven Wasn't So Far Away // Justin Moore

(if you want to see me ugly cry, play this song)

If Heaven wasn't so far away, I'd pack up the kids and go for the day. Introduce them to their grandpa, watch 'em laugh at the way he talks.

I'd find my long lost cousin John, the one we left back in Vietnam. Show him a picture of his daughter now, she's a doctor and he'd be proud.

Then tell him we'd be back in a couple of days. In the rearview mirror, we'd all watch 'em wave. And losing them wouldn't be so hard to take if Heaven wasn't so far away.

I'd hug all three of those girls we lost from the class of '99. I'd find my bird dog Bo and take him hunting one more time. I'd ask Hank why he took those pills back in '53.

And Janis to sing the second verse of "Me and Bobby McGee." Sit on a cloud and visit for a while, it'd do me good just to see them smile.

Blown Away // Carrie Underwood

Daddy was a mean old mister, mama was an angel in the ground. The weatherman called for a twister, she prayed to blown it down. There's not enough rain in Oklahoma to wash the sins out of that house.

There's not enough wind in Oklahoma to rip the nails out of the past. Shatter every window 'til it's all blown away, every brick, every board, every slamming door blown away.

'Til there's nothing left standing, nothing left of yesterday. Every tear-soaked, whiskey memory blown away. She locked herself in the cellar, listening to the screaming of the wind. Some people call it taking shelter, she called it sweet revenge.

Whiskey Lullaby // Brad Paisley and Alison Krauss

(Another crying song)

She put him out like the burning end of a midnight cigarette, she broke his heart. He spent his whole life trying to forget. We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time.

But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind until the night...He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger, and finally drank away her memory.

Life is short, but this time, it was bigger than the strength he had to get up off his knees. We found him with his face down in the pillow with a note that said, "I'll love her 'til I die."

And when we buried him beneath the willow, the angels sang a whiskey lullaby.

Red Dirt Road // Brooks & Dunn

I was raised off of Rural Route 3 out past where the blacktop ends. We'd walk to church on Sunday morning and race barefoot back to Johnson's fence.

That's where I first saw Mary on that roadside, picking blackberries. That summer, I turned a corner in my soul down that red dirt road. It's where I drank my first beer.

It's where I found Jesus, where I wrecked my first car, I tore it all to pieces. I learned the path to Heaven is full of sinners and believer, learned that happiness on Earth ain't just for high achievers.

Online // Brad Paisley

I work down at the Pizza Pit and I drive an old Hyundai. I'm a sci-fi fanatic, a mild asthmatic, never been to second base. But there's a whole other me that you need to see.

Go check out MySpace. 'Cause online, I'm out in Hollywood. I'm 6'5 and I look damn good. I drive a Maserati, I'm a black belt in karate, and I love a good glass of wine.

It turns girls on that I'm mysterious, I tell them that I don't want nothing serious. I'm so much cooler online. In real life, the only time I've ever even been to LA is when I got the chance with the marching band to play tuba in the Rose Parade.

But online, I live in Malibu. I pose for Calvin Klein, I've been in GQ. I'm single and I'm rich, and I got a set of six pack abs that'd blow your mind. I'm so much cooler online.

Friends In Low Places // Garth Brooks

Blame it all on my roots, I showed up in boots and ruined your black tie affair. The last one to know, the last one to show, I was the last one you thought you'd see there.

And I saw the surprise and the fear in his eyes when I took his glass of champagne. I toasted you and said, "honey, we may be through, but you'll never hear me complain."

'Cause I got friends in low places where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases my blues away. And I'll be okay. And I'm not big on social graces, think I'll slip on down to the oasis.

I didn't mean to cause a big scene, just give me an hour and then. I'll be as high as that ivory tower that you're living in.

Cover Of The Rolling Stone // Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show

(This one is very special to me because it's my dad's favorite band)

Well, we're big rock singers. We got golden fingers and we're loved everywhere we go. We sing about beauty and we sing about truth at ten thousand dollars a show.

We take all kinds of pills to give us all kinds of thrills, but the thrill we've never known is the thrill that'll get you when you get your picture on the cover of The Rolling Stone.

Wanna see my picture on the cover, wanna buy five copies for my mother. Wanna see my smiling face on the cover of The Rolling Stone. I got a freaky old lady called Cocaine Kitty who embroiders on my jeans.

We got all the friends money can buy, so we never have to be alone. And we keep getting richer, but we can't get our picture on the cover of The Rolling Stone.

Goodbye Earl // The Chicks (TW for domestic abuse, but with a happy ending)

Mary-Anne and Wanda were the best of friends all through their high school days. Both members of the 4-H club, both active in the FFA. After graduation, Mary-Anne went out, looking for a bright new world. Wanda looked all around this town and all she found was Earl.

Well, it wasn't two weeks after she got married that Wanda started getting abused. Well, she finally got the nerve to file for divorce. She let the law take it from there.

But Earl walked right through that restraining order and put her in intensive care. Right away, Mary-Anne flew in from Atlanta on a red-eyed, midnight flight.

She held Wanda's hand and they worked out a plan, and it didn't take 'em long to decide that Earl had die. Goodbye, Earl. Those black-eyed peas, they tasted alright to me! Earl, you feeling weak? Why don't you lay down and sleep?

Nobody // Sylvia

Sitting in a restaurant, she walked by. I seem to recall that certain look in your eye. I said whose that, you said with a smile, "oh it's nobody, nobody."

Maybe that explains the last two weeks. You called me up, dead on your feet. Working late again, I ask "who with?" You said, "nobody, nobody."

Well, your nobody called today. She hung up when I asked her name, I wonder does she think she's being clever? You say nobody's after, the fact is what you say is true. But I can love you like nobody can, even better.

Dooley // The Dillards

Dooley was a good ole man, he lived below the mill. Dooley had two daughters and a forty gallon still. One gal watched the boiler, the other watched the spout, and mama corked the bottles when ole Dooley fetched 'em out.

Dooley was a trader when into town he'd come. Sugar by the bushel and molasses by the ton. I remember very well the day ole Dooley died, the women folk weren't sorry and the men stood 'round and cried.

Now, Dooley's on the mountain. He lies there all alone. They put a jug beside him and a barrel for the stone.

Wagon Wheel // Darius Rucker

Heading down south to the land of the pines, I'm thumbing my way out of North Carolina. Staring up the road and pray to God I see headlights. Made it down the coast in seventeen hours, picking me a bouqet of dogwood flowers.

And I'm a-hoping for Raleigh, I can see my baby tonight. So rock me, mama, like a wagon wheel. Rock me, mama, any way you feel. Hey, mama, rock me.

Rock me, mama, like the wind and the rain. Rock me, mama, like a southbound train. Hey, mama, rock me. Running from the cold up in New England, I was born to be a fiddler in an old-time string band. My baby plays the guitar, I pick the banjo now.

Remember When // Alan Jackson

Remember when, I was young and so were you and time stood still. And love was all we knew. You were the first, so was I. Made love and then you cried, remember when?

We lived and learned, life threw curves. There was joy and there was hurt, remember when? We came together, we fell apart, we broke each other's heart. Remember when?

Remember when, thirty seemed so old. Now looking back, it's just a stepping stone to where we are. Where we been, said we'd do it all again. Remember when?

Almost Home // Craig Morgan

He had plastic bags wrapped 'round his shoes, he was covered with the evening news. Had a pair of old wool socks on his hands, bank sign was flashing five below.

It was freezing rain and spitting snow, he was curled up behind some garbage cans. I was afraid that he was dead, I gave him a gentle shake. When he opened up his eyes, I said, "old man, are you okay?"

He said, "I just climbed out of a cottonwood tree. I was running from some honey bees. Drip-drying in the summer breeze after jumping into Calico Creek. I was walking down an old dirt road, past a field of hay that had just been mowed. Man, I wish you'd just left me alone.

'Cause I was almost home." Then he said, "I was just coming round the barn, 'bout the time you grabbed my arm. I was close enough for my old nose to smell fresh cobbler on the stove.

And I saw daddy loading up the truck. Cane poles on the tailgate, bobbers blowing in the wind. Since July of '55, that's as close as I've been."

Dirty Laundry // Carrie Underwood

That lipstick on your collar, well, it ain't my shade of pink and I can tell by the smell of perfume it's like forty dollars too cheap. And there's a little wine stain on the pocket of your white-collar thread.

You drink beer and whiskey, boy. And you know I don't drink red. Now, I'm gonna have to hang you out to dry, dry, dry. Clothespin all your secrets to the line, line, line.

Leave 'em blowing in the wind and say goodbye to you. All those midnight sneaking in. "I'm late again, oh, I'm so sorry." All the Ajax in the world ain't gonna clean your dirty laundry.

[sweetstarart]

Ahoy neighbors!! Here was Cap'n Barnaby's day! (Meant to post this sooner, but I kinda got lazy. Isn't that fitting?)

Sunrise

It's morning but I don't wanna get up... Someone's gotta sail though, and I don't wanna bother anyone else with something I could do myself. Eh, not my friends at least.

Wally's already awake, he says that his necklace ghost is gonna steer today. I don't trust that thing one bit, and I definitely don't want it controlling my mama's ship. I was gonna ask them to leave but the strangest thing happened. I got a chill down my spine, and suddenly I wasn't feeling too good. I swear that ghost has got something to do with it. But I can't prove that. Maybe I just need some sleep, or if I'm lucky, some medicine.

Noon

It's been hours now, I still can't sleep. My head is spinning and all can think about is that dumb ghost. I bet they're so proud of themself right now. I'd have tossed in the sea by now if Wally didn't like them so much. I hope he changes his mind, that thing is dangerous. Howdy came by, I think he realized I'm not actually sleeping. I'm real glad to have him around. We told eachother jokes and stuff while he made me take like, a bazillion potions. Thought it seemed like a little much for just a real long dizzy spell. But he said he read about this in his book, a failed possession. I KNEW THAT GHOST WAS BEHIND THIS! I wanna chew them up so bad....

But I gotta use my head right now, and think of a way outta this mess. I think my best bet is to act like I don't know, lure them into a sense of security like a fish, then CHOMP THEM WHEN THEY LEAST EXPECT IT! NO ONE THREATENS MY CREW AND GETS AWAY WITH IT!!!!

Uh... anyways, me and Howdy chatted til I fell asleep, I love it when he does that. I wanna do that everyday.

Sunset

Sounds like the crew found something to do while I was lazing around, there's tons of sounds coming from the deck. I came up and everyone was playing some kinda instrument except Wally. Poor kid looked a bit left out. I don't really wanna, but maybe playing a bit will make him play too.

It worked! He's singing! His voice sounds real swell, he could sing a real good shanty if he wanted to. I shant help but think about it! I'm having fun, why not joke around a bit? Haha!! Today's finally starting to come a-song! Better yet, I think I smell sharks in the water! Tonight our food will be gilly yummy! No wait, tonight's dinner will be fincredible!

Yeah, that's way better.

Night

Wally wanted to help me and Frank cook today! Since I didn't wanna beat around the hook, I decided to ask him what's the deal with that ghost. He calls them Home for some reason and says that they're very close. He refused to elaborate. That made me even more suspicious. I was gonna say more but Frank got mad at us for clowning around. I told him that as a pirate, I think he should stop taking things so seariously. He was so mad! Anyways, we talked at supper like usual but I still couldn't get Home outta my mind, especially when they're everywhere right now...

Guess Howdy caught onto that because he's knocking at my door right now. I just can't hide nothing from you How!

[anjuschiffer]

Amira Wayne - Chapter 22

...two years huh?...

My god, this took waaay to long to write. So many scenes were deleted, revised, trashed... I realized I added a story event way too early and then that affected the entire flow of everything, hell, an entire arc was deleted because i didn't realize my mistake until chapters later...(I was planning on Mari/Jason/Wally/Damian taking the fox miraculous but eh, there goes that...)

Anyways, I'm finally back (for now) to write Amira Wayne! (Unless my new job also starts taking a toll on my mental health like my past one...) We have roughly four chapters left? Maybe five? Six? I know for sure that there’s an epilogue tho. So for sure four. 

Really want to thank everyone for their patience, so please enjoy this chapter and see you in the next :D

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Chapter 22: Family, Friends and Identites (1)

MASTERLIST | FIRST | PREV | A03

Amira woke up with a start, wondering how she arrived on her bed. The last thing she remembered was hugging Mama and...crying. 

Is that why her throat was dry?

“Feeling alright?” Wally spoke up, Amira noticing that he was bringing in a tray of food. “It’s one in the afternoon.” He provided when he saw her searching for her phone. He watched as she opened it up, only to scrunch her nose at whatever it was she saw upon opening it before tossing her phone aside.

“Day?”

“Still Christmas if you’re wondering. Everyone is downstairs.” Amira opened her mouth before closing it again… “We were just seconds behind when we found out where you were…” A silence fell over them. 

“Is…is she here?” She dared to ask, seeing Wally shake his head before letting out a small sigh. 

“Before we left her place, she asked us to give you this.” Wally motioned to a wrapped present on the floor after placing the tray down, Amira taking the envelope he handed towards her. “Or rather, she told me to personally hand it to you. Didn’t say what the contents were.” Wally leaned against the ladder he had halfway climbed. 

“I see.” Was all she could say as she held the envelope in her hands. 

Was it okay for her to open it right now?

Did her father know about it?

“So Talia Al Ghul, huh.” Wally said again, Amira looking at him. “Didn’t expect that twist.”

“It wouldn’t have been a twist had Ra’s allowed my parents to be together.” Wally tilted his head. “They eloped a year before I was born.” Wally fell from the ladder, causing Amira to rush down and help him get up. “You alright?”

“They were going to get married?” 

“They planned it. But it never got further than that.” Amira elaborated, staring at the letter in her hand. 

‘Because Ra’s forbade them to see each other again. He locked her mother up within her own home to prevent her from seeing her father,’ she wanted to add, but stopped upon remembering the threats he told Talia. 

How he used her as a hostage despite being miles away. How he threatened to kill her if Talia dared to step out of line. How he arranged a marriage with another man, the same man who-

“-ease! Amira!” Wally frantically yelled, Amira snapping out of her thoughts, looking at Wally whose eyes held panic. “Can you hear me? Answer me, please…”

She reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze. 

“I’m still here…” At least for now. “I just...remembered something that my mother told me about her father...that’s all.” She said, relaxing her hand in his.

She didn’t expect him to hug her, Amira hugging him back after her initial shock. 

“I was worried.” She felt him hug her tighter.

“I figured...sorry about that.”

“I thought-“

“But I’m here...and alright.” A chuckle escaped Wally. 

“A bandaged hand and a bandage on your face doesn’t exactly scream safe you know.”

“Better than actually being dead.” She joked, only to feel him tense. He took a step back to look at her, cupping her face in the process. 

“What do you mean by that?” Amira placed her hands over his. 

“I…Didn’t I-“ Wally shook his head, lowering his hands, holding hers as he did. 

“You passed out after Selina went to find you.” 

“What about Tim? Did he say anything? Because I’m assuming he did if Selina found out I was coming back via zeta-“

“He only told us that. That you were coming back.” Wally tightened his grasp on Amira. “Amira, what exactly do you mean ‘not dead’? What happened at the manor?”

Amira pursed her lips before sighing. 

“Where should I start? From the moment I stepped into the Cave or how I got these injuries?”

“Probably from the Cave.” Just as Amira was about to retell the story, the duo heard rapid footsteps rushing upstairs.

“Marinette!” Chloe yelled, Amira flushing red when she realized she was still holding Wally’s hands, taking a step back, only for the two to get tackled by Chloe. “Marinette!” 

Chloe proceeded to cry, clinging onto Marinette, Wally giving her a small smile as he helped the two back up. “I missed you!”

“Guess I’ll leave to-“

“Chloe! You can’t just- Marinette!” Sabrina was about to scold, only to join Chloe in the group hug. “You’re al-you’re not alright! What happened to your hand? Your face?” 

“Got in a fight with someone and sprained my hand a bit, but I’m alright. And before you ask, no. It wasn’t from the person who “kidnapped” me.” Marinette clarified when she saw anger flash in Sabrina’s eyes. “These were from someone...else.”

Wally narrowed his eyes. “Wally, you don’t have to worry about them anymore. They should be in Arkham right about now.” She assured in English, risking the chance that Sabrina might possibly know the language. As for Chloe, Amira could only hope for her to ignore the comment. 

“I still want to know what happened.” 

“I’ll tell you later. For now,” She gestured at her two friends still hugging her. “Let’s go downstairs. I think it’s about time we let the others know I’m okay, don’t you think?”

-

Tim watched as Bruce frantically stuffed a bag together, watching as he finished placing a silver case over his luggage.  

Amira’s sudden appearance in Gotham and then Ra’s appearance with Damian at the manor followed by Slade’s raid…something was up.

Bruce let out a huff, still attempting to process everything that happened last night, which only reminded him that he needed to make sure he had to be prepared for anything coming their way…especially Amira’s.

Of course, his concern caused him to shut Alfred’s attempts at a proper conversation. He knew Alfred was trying to tell him something, but that could wait.

He needed to go to Paris to make sure Amira was alright.

Bruce’s panicked state also caused a certain someone to want to be filled in with the details, disguising his interest with curiosity.

“Father, why can’t I go?” Damian asked for the umpteenth time, Tim wondering when he was going to stop. 

Seriously, it was starting to become annoying. He’s been at it for the past ten minutes.

“I already told you. You are to stay here and wait for my return.”

“I can help.”

“Damian, I already told you no.” Bruce sternly reminded him. 

“Just-“

“I said no and that is final.” Bruce sternly said, Tim watching Damian promptly shut up. After a very long silence between the two, Damian let out a small huff.

“Very well then.” He made his way to the Batcomputer. “Seems like I have no choice but to stay behind.”

Bruce felt something off, but thought nothing much of it. 

“I should be back within a month or two. Or less.” Bruce pulled the last of his luggage closer to him. “Tim.” Tim straightened. “J’onn will be here shortly to help cover for me until Dick returns. Make sure to show him the ropes.”

“Understood.” Tim answered, only then wondering why J’onn was going to come if- no way. “Did you-”

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me.” Bruce reminded Tim, ruffling the boy’s hair. “I’ll be there without hesitation. And if I can't, don’t hesitate to contact Barry or Clark…maybe Oliver if the situation becomes dire.”

All Tim could do was nod as Bruce vanished through the Zeta tube, never feeling the glare he was getting from Damian. 

As he watched his father leave, Damian swerved back to look at the screens in front of him, eyeing the one at the corner, watching as his father left the Parisian telephone booth and walked in a straight line towards a hotel named Le Grand Paris.

Who knew it was so easy to track a single person miles away with the help of a few buttons.

What are you hiding, Father?

-

The sounds of the twins screaming and squealing made Alya groan upon waking up. It didn’t help that she couldn’t find her phone that was constantly going off.

She was sure she had left it beside her pillow last time, having dozed off upon rewatching some of her blog videos while the rest of the family socialized with one another in the living room just hours ago. 

Alya let out a sigh when she saw it on the floor, picking it up while more messages kept coming in. She let out a small smile as she looked at her phone, the class group chat filled with everyone saying ‘Merry Christmas’ to each other, pictures of themselves with family, pictures of their gifts or of them enjoying their day. 

Even Lila had posted a small Christmas breakfast picture, Alya glad she was finally warming up to them...

If only the class would accept Chloe, Sabrina, Adrien and Marinette just as easily. 

Alya had tried to change her classmates’ view on the outcasts, but the class wouldn’t budge. 

Chloe had been a brat since their first year in élémentaire, Sabrina being seen just as equally of a brat as she was always tagging along with her. Adrien being Chloe’s childhood friend gave the class a bad impression of him and they didn’t try to get to know him once they knew that. They rather save the trouble of knowing whether or not it was true opposed to knowing if he was anything like Chloe. And then there was Marinette. 

Thanks to the incident on the first day of school, the class was actually intimidated to approach Marinette, fearing that her demeanor would influence those around her in a bad way, just like it had towards Nino. Ever since Nino started to hang out with her, he has been more opinionated, always taking her side instead of theirs, always bringing up opposing arguments instead of trying to accept their side.

So in fear of having themselves manipulated by the Gothamite, the class chose to stay away from her. Completely.

When Alya saw that the class wouldn’t change their impressions, she gave up. 

As long as she knew that Marinette wasn’t that bad of a person the rest had painted her to be, Alya could tolerate the other three. Especially when she found out that Marinette was on to something in regards to Lila.

Will you really blindly accept the words of a person without doing any type of investigation?

Ever since Marinette told her that, the words ate at Alya’s conscience. 

After jotting down everything that Lila had ever told her, Alya quickly went to research about each claim Lila had spoken since she had arrived at the school, with each passing tale showing that Lila’s trips and stories didn’t add up. Not even remotely.

With a bit of research done, Lila was telling the truth about constantly traveling thanks to her mother’s job, having a hard time making friends as she never stayed in the same school for more than half a year. That Lila did actually travel to Achu, but she never met Prince Ali. How she actually met stars on red carpets, but wasn’t actually close with any of them despite the various photos she’s taken with them. (It was nice to know that with a bit of money and a fake smile, you could trick others into believing a fake relationship between two people.) How she never went to Gotham, completely debunking her story of being at the Gala.

After all, the guest list of the event was revealed the day after, the article also listing the top five donors for M.Wayne’s latest foundation created by his son Jason Todd.

The evidence of Lila’s tales went on for another two pages, but that was enough for Alya to show Marinette that she was still determined to be an actual reporter. Of being someone who snuffed out the truth to share with those around her.

Now, all she had to do was show it to her.

Quickly scrolling through her contacts, it was only then that Alya realized she never asked Marinette for her number, panic rising in her as she tried to think of a way to tell her-

Of course! She could always just visit the bakery!

Grabbing her coat, Alya didn’t care if she was still in last night’s Christmas outfit, shouting a ‘goodbye, I’ll be back’ to her parents and older sister as she ran to the Dupain-Cheng bakery only to stop midway.

How did she forget?

Ever since the incident...Alya never talked to Marinette...never checking in on her...not even once…

She had been so busy trying to figure out what Marinette had meant by the speech the moment before she got akumatized that she never checked in on Marinette the minute the incident was over…because according to Marinette, Jason Todd was dead even though the article covering the gala said otherwise…

According to the article, Jason Todd was alive.

So then...what was the actual truth?

Could Marinette be the one who wasn’t telling the truth? Or was she? Was Marinette even trustworth-

Alya slapped her cheeks with her hands, letting out a whine despite it not hurting.

Why was she thinking that way? 

Right now, Alya had to check on her friend...after all, just what kind of friend doesn’t check in on a bestie after a traumatizing event...who does that?!

But this was it! This was her chance! She could fix that right now… right?

Mustering the courage to mend her mistake, Alya braced herself for a possible lecture as she made her way to the bakery, only to stop once again when she saw an ever so familiar figure make their way in the same direction she was going, or so she thought.

She watched as he turned a corner, his luggage leaving small trails in the once fresh snow.

But even if M.Wayne wasn’t heading towards the bakery...

What was he doing in Paris?

—

“Recognized. Batman. 02.” 

Bruce quickly placed a hat on as soon as he stepped out of the phone booth, hoping that no one nearby would recognize him. After all, he was expected to be in Gotham all day in preparation for the End of Year Gala. 

Without a moment's hesitation, Bruce quickly checked into Le Grand Paris, much to the surprise of the receptionist. 

He wheeled his luggage into Selina’s forgotten suite, sorting his items a bit on the bed before unpacking a few things into the case he had compiled at the Cave. 

Scurrying his way back downstairs and out into the snow, he made his way to the only bakery he knew in Paris: Tom & Sabine's Boulangerie Pâtisserie.

—

“Nino! Nino, look!” Nino slowly blinked, trying to keep up with Adrien’s enthusiasm. “Nino, isn’t this the best present or what?” Adrien squealed, a hamster shoved into Nino’s face, Nino only then finally processing what was going on. 

He quickly pushed himself up the sofa, almost slipping off it when his back hit the wall. 

“Dude, don’t just shove that in my face!”

“But Bruno has the cutest face I’ve ever seen! Just look at him!” Adrien exclaimed, snuggling the hamster close to his cheek. “Best Christmas present ever!” 

“Will your dad let you keep him?” 

“If he dares to try and take Bruno away from me,” Adrien let a grin rise to his face. “He’d better be prepared to have a brunet for a son.”  

Nino gawked as Adrien then lit up as he thought of something, watching as he ran up to Selina and motioned to Bruno, once again thanking the woman for his gift. 

Nino watched as Selina smiled and nodded as she proceeded to take out her phone and show him something that caused Adrien to squeal in delight.

Nino allowed himself to smile, his attention from Adrien shifting to elsewhere when he heard footsteps descending from Marinette’s room.

“Baguette!” “Dudette!” Nino and Adrien cried as Marinette stepped down the last step, tackling the poor girl as she tried to process what was going on.

“Are you okay?” “I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“Hey! Give her some space!”

“Chloe, you’re literally clinging onto her.”

“Hey, um, can I-”

“Well, I was here first!”

“I haven’t seen her since yesterday!”

“Dude, none of us have!”

“Guys, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Your face!” 

“Your hand!”

“Should we track the perpetrator down?” “Did you fight your kidnapper on your own?”

“Guys, can I-”

“Everyone!” Wally finally spoke up, making the group stop. “Marinette needs some space.” The quad of friends looked at their friend, noticing her staring off, quickly backing up from her, allowing Wally to guide her to a seat in the living room.

They watched as he coaxed her into looking at him and when she did, Wally spoke to her before she seemed to have snapped from her state, looking at her friends before looking at the floor.

“Sorry…about that.” Marinette spoke up, lifting her head up to look at the worry on her friends’ faces. “That…that’s never happened before…”

“We should be the ones apologizing.” Sabrina said, quickly standing up and sitting next to Marinette, placing her hand over hers. “You just got up and-”

“-we’re just glad to see you again.” Adrien softly cut off, giving her a small smile, everyone nodding their heads in agreement.

“Gave us quite the fright there.” Nino admitted, “not exactly the best way to start Christmas, as far as I know,” he said, letting out a nervous laugh, hoping to lighten the mood.

“That’s right!” Sabrina cheered up, clapping her hands together. “This is your first time celebrating Christmas with friends, isn’t it Marinette?” Marinette stared at her wide eyed, looking at Chloe and Adrien for confirmation and when they nodded, she stood up.

“Presents. Let’s hurry and exchange presents.” Marinette declared, Wally stifling a laugh at her panicked demand. 

“Adrien already opened his!” Nino snitched, getting a ‘hey’ from said boy.

Marinette watched as everyone soon got up to grab the gifts they had brought for each other, feeling Wally reach over for her hand, tugging her to sit back down.

“Are you sure you’re okay? We don’t-”

“I’m fine.” Amira assured him as she sat back down, watching as her friends exchanged gifts with each other. “Plus, I owe them for ruining-”

“You didn’t ruin anything. After all, you didn’t expect that to happen. Hell, none of us did.”

“Still,” Amira watched as Chloe shrieked upon Adrien introducing her to Bruno while Sabrina squealed at the beret Chloe had gotten her. She yelled about having wanted it for a while and how it was made by some high end designer. “I ended up ruining Adrien’s hard work in planning this out for us.”

“If anything, I think it brought all of us closer.” Wally countered, noticing Jason peeked from the doorway of the apartment. “Closer to the point of unbreakable.”

Amira followed Wally’s line of view, getting up when she saw Jason, causing everyone to freeze.

“Well, don’t stop the party because of me,” Jason stepped forward with a wagon filled with presents, Amira noticing Dick quickly making his way out of the apartment with a phone pressed to his ear. “If anything, let’s get this party going!”

Who was Dick talking to?

-

Alya rang the bell for what she believed to be the third time, glancing to her sides as she waited for an answer. When no one came down, she rang again, now starting to get anxious. 

Why was no one answering?

As far as she knew, Marinette was still home, at least according to the conversations she eavesdropped from Adrien and the rest of the group before break had started. According to Adrien, Marinette didn’t have any plans for the holidays. No family visits, no party -zilch. 

So then, why wasn’t she-

“-haven’t come down yet?” A voice spoke up from behind Alya, Alya quickly jumping once she registered the voice. “Sorry about that! Didn’t mean to scare you.” The woman apologized, stretching out her hand towards Alya. “I’m Barbara. What about you?”

“Alya…” Alya answered cautiously, shaking Barbara’s hand. “Wha-What were you trying to ask me earlier?”

“Oh! Simply asked if the person you were trying to ring had come down yet, but judging from the fact that we’re still out here, I’m guessing no.”

“She should be here though.” Alya persisted, staring at the complex’s door. “Marinette-”

“Marinette?” Barbara chirped, Alya wondering how this lady knew her friend. “As in Marinette Dupain?” 

“Y…yes…although her full name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng…”

“Oh that’s right, Tom married Sabine- anyways, what a coincidence. I’m also here to see Marinette so don’t worry!” Barbara gave Alya a grin, motioning to a box with holes she had held close to her chest. Rustling was heard coming from within the box, perking Alya’s curiosity. “Someone should be coming down to-”

“Babs! You got it!” Dick cheered, causing Alya to jump upon hearing English, wondering who this was.

“Dick!” Dick? Wasn’t that like, an offensive term -insult maybe?- towards another person back in America? “What took you so long? I’m freezing over here!”

“Sorry about that,” ‘Dick’ said, sheepishly grinning as he offered Babs to walk into the building, only then noticing Alya. “And who might you be?” ‘Dick’ asked in perfect French.

“I-I’m Alya, sir.” She noticed him flinch, his smile becoming strained. “I’m Marinette’s friend from-”

“Mimi’s friend?!” Dick squealed, Alya registering how quickly his mood changed upon mentioning- Mimi? Who was Mi-

“Come on Dick, A- who’s this?” Another voice joined, Alya quickly noticing the other boy who she guessed followed ‘Dick’ downstairs. His red hair clicked something in her mind. Why did he look kinda familiar?

“My name is Alya! I came to talk to Mari-”

“Come on you bozos! Let the girl in already!” Barbara scolded, “It’s already as cold as it is and you’re making it worse by leaving that door open.” She then motioned to the box in her hands. “Also, I need one of you guys to take a video of Amira’s-”

“Who’s Amira?” Alya asked, causing the other three to momentarily freeze, blocking the entire staircase.  

“Ah, good question.”

“You see-“

“Cesaire.” Chloe cut off, causing everyone to jump. As if her tone of saying the other girl’s name wasn’t hostile enough, Chloe’s glare clearly told them she wasn’t exactly on good terms with Alya. “What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you that.” Alya asked, also glaring back at the other.

Oh…it's mutual.  “Why are you here?” Alya frowned when Chloe scoffed at her.

“Why should I be telling you my business? You should be minding your own bees- oh my- he’s rubbing off me.” Chloe cleared her throat, “I’m here because of a Christmas party that Adri-”

“Christmas party? But I thought Marinette-”

“What is everyone doing here?” Selina barged in, sighing as she caught onto the situation with a single glance. “Dick, Wally. Head back to the party. Babs. I need you to tell these two girls that if they want to fight, to take it outside. I’m not going to let them add more stress to Ami-Marinette’s-” Selina noticing the two girls perk at the name, “-day. She’s still recovering and she needs to relax, not find out that two of her…classmates are fighting right outside her home.” 

With that, she stepped back into the apartment, leaving the three girls to handle the situation.

“I’m guessing you two aren’t exactly friends, but are with Marinette…right?” Barbara asked, just to confirm her theory.

“Of course I am!” The girls said in unison.

“For Marinette’s sake, Selina wants the two of you to settle your argument outside. Marinette is still recovering and she wants to make sure Marinette doesn’t get any more stress than what she already has to deal with already. Although to be honest, I think the same can be applied to me.”

“You?” Alya asked, wondering once more what this woman had to do with Marinette.

Giving the younger girl a small smile, Barbara gave her answer.

“We…We didn’t exactly last see each other on good terms… I… I stole something very precious to her without knowing…or rather…she found out I was the one who stole something precious from her without me knowing..” That’s all Barbara told them as she continued to walk up the stairs. “Come on now, we got a party to get to…or do the two of you actually plan on going outside to duke it out?”

Both girls looked at each other and huffed, following the older one into the apartment.

Guess it's a truce for now.

-

Why did the universe hate her so much?

“Nino, what are you doing here? I thought you weren’t friends with Chloe?”

“Alya? I thought you were at home, celebrating with your family? And for the record, I'm friends with everyone in this room, except Bruno. He still has to prove himself.” Nino gestured to the hamster in Adrien’s hands.

“Leave my child out of this!” Adrien cried.

“Adrikins, he’s a ra-” Chloe started, only for Sabrine to cover her mouth.

“Don’t you dare call Bruno a rat unless you want him to go hysterical.” Sabrina warned her.

“Dick…I thought Jason-” Dick quickly silenced Babs by screaming and pulling her to the kitchen.

“Is that the girl who you said became Batg-” Amira never saw Wally throw a pillow so quickly at another person without hesitation, watching how Jason almost fell back from the impact.

The room had gone almost silent, no one knowing what exactly to do. 

Amira could only stare as she watched her friends and family bicker and whisper to each other, occasionally looking back at her.

Were they talking about her?

Why were they looking at her like that?

Did she do something wrong?

Should she not have done any of-

“-mira. Amira, māomāo, what’s wrong?” Selina quietly asked her, snapping her from her thoughts. Selina didn’t expect her to tackle her, wrapping herself around her waist. “Amira, everyone’s worried about you. Are you alright?”

Amira could only shake her head in response, feeling a lump in her throat. “Do you still want to continue the party?” She nodded, even though it was a hard thing to do. “Do you want to open Alfred’s present first?” Amira quickly whipped her head to look at her, Selina letting out a chuckle upon seeing her sparkling eyes, failing to see Adrien’s eyes widened at the mention of the name.

“Yes please.” 

Amira watched as Selina motioned Barbara to come forward, noticing a large box in her hands. 

“Hi…Marinette.” Barbara managed to say, carefully choosing her next words. “Alfred sent you this. He said to not worry what your father will say about it. After all, B can never say no to him.” Barbara tried to smile, but faltered. “Marinette, I …I have so many things I want to talk about and I-”

“If you’re asking me to forgive you for what you did to me back in Gotham…about the thing you did behind my back,” Amira started, placing her hands over Babs’. “I already forgave you for that,” Amira admitted, taking the box and placing it on the sofa. “Coming to Paris gave me time to think things over and…you’re doing a good job of-” 

Amira was tackled into a hug, not helping letting a smile out. 

“I’m so sorry Mars.” Babs squeezed her tighter. “Thank you for forgiving…I missed you…”

“I missed you too, Babs.”

“Come now māomāo,” Selina coaxed, not noticing the way Adrien’s eyes twinkled, his smile turning into a grin. “Let’s see what Alfred got you.”

Amira nodded, carefully opening the box, letting out a gasp at the sight of her latest friend.

“What in the Gods’ name is that?!” Chloe shrieked upon laying eyes on the creature. 

“A cat!” Amira cheered, bringing the sphynx cat out of its box, Sabrina letting out a coo when Marinette let her near the feline.

“That’s a cat?” Nino whispered to Adrien, who held his hamster close to his chest. 

“Kitten here is a boy, if you’re wondering.” Selina chirped in once she examined the cat and held it towards Amira, Amira giggling when the cat licked her. “What are you going to name him?”

“Liebling.” Amira confidently spoke, cradling the cat into her arms. “His name shall be Liebling.”

“Does this mean we’re going to start opening up the gifts?” Nino softly asked, feeling a hand on his shoulder, only to find Adrien give him a grin. 

“You bet and Nino, you’re gonna want to sit down for yours.” 

While everyone started to gather around the Christmas tree to hand each other their gifts, Alya simply stood near the kitchen, watching as everyone mingled with each other, laughing with one another. 

Was she the only one who thought she was friends with Marinette? 

Just what exactly was she to her?

Weren’t they friends?

-

Quickly making his way to the Dupain-Cheng residency, Bruce couldn’t help but notice the laughs and cheering echoing through the hallway as he entered the building and then into the apartment moments later.

Christmas music was playing in the background, the living room decorated from wall to wall in ribbons, reindeers, snowflakes…the list went on.

As he entered the room, he could feel the warmth radiating from the children chatting with themselves.

He also couldn’t help but notice gifts unwrapped and already in use. 

Chloé proudly wore a black cape wrap, yellow fluffy trimmed the edge of it. She had a few presents at her feet as she spoke with Sabrina who sported a cyan beret, a few embroidered mice motifs around the front of the beret.

Adrien had already opened his, the hamster Selina and Amira haven chosen rested on the boy’s lap, Adrien coaxing the tiny rodent to eat another piece of vegetable. 

Nino still looked starstruck from his gift, hesitating to place his fingers on the brand new DJ controller Adrien had gotten him, bringing his hands closer to it before quickly flinching away from it. Seems like he was also jittery around the camera bag by his feet as he stopped himself from stepping on it, Bruce noticing the separate lens bag nearby. Perhaps Chloe got him that.

“You just missed the first few rounds of present exchanges.” Selina whispered as Bruce placed his silver case down. “And you just missed Babs as well. She says Merry Christmas.”

The kids haven’t noticed him. Good. 

“Where’s Amira?” He dared to ask, feeling an all familiar pair of eyes boring through him, causing him to become unsettled. 

“Well, thank you for asking how I am doing.” Selina stated, digging her nails into his arm when she hooked her arm into his. She then pecked his lips. “As for Amira, she’s in her room with the boys and Babs; she wanted to quietly give Dick his gift without any prying eyes that weren't family.” Selina added, Bruce noticing how she was no longer digging her nails into his arm but was now grasping it tightly. 

“What’s wrong?” He softly asked her, taking her arm off him and now holding her hand, which she quickly jerked away from. “Selina? 

“What exactly happened at the manor last night?” She growled. “Amira came back crying which wasn’t something I was expecting. She even came back with injuries…what happened within the hour she was gone?”

“She didn’t tell you?” 

“I wouldn’t be asking if she had told me, now would I?” Bruce sighed.

“Slade-”

“What the fuck was he doing there?”

“-appeared in the manor last night and wreaked havoc.” Bruce decided to cut her off. “However, he wasn’t after Dick this time. He was after Amira.”

“He’s the one who injured her?” She hissed.

“Actually. He was after Ra’s Al Ghul’s…heir.” Bruce managed to say, observing her facial expressions. He watched as her anger diminished a bit, watching as her brows furrowed, her frown growing deeper as she tried to work out what was on her mind. “Selina, what-”

“Talia,” he stiffened. “Talia found Amira and-” Just as he was ready to bolt to their daughter’s room, Selina stopped him. “Bruce, she's fine. She was fine after meeting Talia, but- actually, she gave us a heart attack since Talia thought it was a good idea to kidnap-” Selina had to use more force when Bruce darted for his daughter’s room once again. “Bruce!” She hissed. “She needs space right now.”

“Selina, I need to make sure-”

“She needs time to process everything she’s been through this past day.” Selina held tighter onto Bruce’s hand. “She just meet her mother, found out that Jason’s alive, found out-”

“What…did you say?” Selina blinked, watching as Bruce began to blankly stare at her, his eyes narrowing, questioning if he heard what he heard was truly what he heard. “Selina. You-”

“Didn’t- didn’t Amira tell you? Because that was the whole reason why she went over there.” She quickly added because she knew Bruce and she knew what he was capable of when his eyes would grow dull like they just did. 

He slowly shook his head. “ What about Alfred?” He was about to shake his head once more until something seemed to have popped into his mind. “Bruce…Jason-”

“What about me?” The boy in question asked, having just turned the corner, his eyes closed as he held a small gift out for Selina. Bruce froze upon hearing a voice he didn’t know he had forgotten how it sounded. 

But…it couldn’t be… “If this is about not getting a gift from any of us, I’ll have to let you know that I do indeed-'' he said, opening his eyes. “-do have a gift for- Pops?” 

Jason stared at Bruce, noticing the tears that swelled into his eyes.

“Jay.” Bruce dared to ask. “Is that-” He didn’t need Jason to confirm anything. The minute Jason tackled him, Bruce knew. This was his son.

Is his son.

This is the son that had managed to slip through his fingers.

But not again. 

Not this time.

He won’t let any of his kids leave his grasp. Ever.

“-bother you mlle, but do you know if- M.Wayne!” Alya squeaked out, managing to shift everyone’s attention to the reuniting duo. Bruce noticed Adrien, Nino and Sabrina’s clear shock, but Chloe’s…

Why was she glaring at him? “What are you-

“Dad?” Dick arched a brow, Bruce feeling like a deer in headlights, turning to see Dick and Barbara stepping out of Amira’s room. “Weren’t you supposed to be in Go-”

“What’s going…” Amira trailed, freezing when she saw her father standing before her. “…on.”

“M. Wayne…“ Wally spoke, his eyes clearly showing his annoyance with the man.

“I thought you said you trusted me in traveling by myself, Pops.” Jason spoke up, Bruce grateful to have at least one person by his side.

“I do.” Bruce tried to pick up, hoping the others didn’t notice the way his voice cracked. “But I couldn’t help but wonder if you were doing okay, so I came to see how you were doing.” Jason gave him a smile, causing him to smile back.

“Hmph. Not even worried about his future wife I see.” Selina pouted. 

“Selina, that’s not-”

“Why don’t you two go and talk things out between each other?” Dick suggested as he guided the two towards the room Selina was staying at within the Dupain-Cheng residence. “Pretty sure there’s some things you two would love to talk about, right Jason?” Jason could only nod as he looked over to his sister and mouthed a ‘I’ll be back’ to her as he followed their parents and older brother.

The remaining teens looked at each other, Alya feeling a bit out of place now that the center of attention was shifted onto her. 

“Alya.” Marinette spoke up, making the girl jump. “What-”

“We need to talk.” Alya blurted out, noticing all eyes on her. “Alone. Please.” Marinette turned to see the others, noticing Wally and Chloe glare at her while the others wondered what Alya wanted to talk to her about.

“Can you wait a bit longer?” Alya pursed her lips. “Give me ten minutes and we can talk. You can wait in my room if you want while you wait.” 

“Alright.” Alya agreed. “Ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes.” Marinette said back, watching as Alya walked up to her room. 

“Are you sure about her?” Wally asked. “She didn’t exactly came here to-”

“We’ll see what she wants in a few. For now I just want to spend a few more minutes with my-”

“Marinette.” Selina spoke up, Amira turning to look at her, eyeing the gift in her hands. “I know we haven’t spent much time together, but Merry Christmas.”

Amira took the gift, carefully sitting down as she stared at the box. “I asked your father what would be a nice gift for you and after he told me about a few things you liked, the two of us came up with this.”

Amira lifted up the tissue, feeling her eyes begin to tear up. She felt tears fall when she lifted the stuffed animal from its box, a drawing from her childhood now psychically resting in her hands. 

Amira pushed back the hood from the doll’s head, causing her to tear up even more. 

Her friends watched in complete shock.

This…this was the first time they…that they have seen Marinette cried…ever…

And over a plushie at that.

How important is it to her?

What did it mean? 

“He still remembered that?” Marinette softly asked no one, bringing the doll close to her chest, as if afraid it would disappear if she didn’t hold on to it for dear life.

She didn’t know her father still remembered that drawing form years ago.

It was months before Dick joined the family, maybe years…how did he remember when she barely did?

She had to be roughly five years olds, maybe younger…she couldn’t exactly really remember how old she was when it happened…

-

“Papa, look what I made!” Amira ran to her father’s desk, quickly climbing onto his lap, careful to not wrinkle the paper in her hand, laying it nicely on top of the various papers adorning her father’s work desk. She missed the huff that escaped her father. Instead, he greeted her with a tired smile, shifting her a bit so that he could get a proper view of the paper she finished putting over the company’s latest project.

“Oh? Is that me?” Bruce asked his daughter, keeping a chuckle in when she pouted. “I like the new cape-”

“No Papa! It’s me!” Amira corrected, pointing at the oddly drawn human. “And my name is Chickadee! Your new sidekick!”

She pointed at the head. “My hood looks just like your costume but when I take it down!” She points at another face she drew, where only the eyes and hair were drawn. The lower part of the face was covered by what he assumed to be a mask. “Bam! I have another mask to cover my face! You always said it’s important to cover our identities! But I don’t want to put something over my head because I have long hair and it might make it hard to place a mask over my hair with a mask like yours.”

“Oh that’s a good thing to think about.” Bruce complimented, his heart swelling when she beamed at his compliment. “What about the cape? Did you make it shorter so that you won’t trip on it?”

“Yup! But I didn’t want to take it out because I need something to cover me when I got outside in the cold. But I don’t want to have a jacket because I think fighting in a jacket isn’t as cool as fighting in a cape. But the rest of my costume is inflated so I don’t freeze to death.” 

“Inflated?”

“Yeah, when it’s nice and toasty inside your clothes even though it's very thin?” When Bruce still seemed confused by her statement, she decided to elaborate. “It has the fuzzies inside?”

“Oh, insulated,” Bruce corrected. “I think you meant insulated. Inflated is what happens when you put air inside something like a balloon.”

“Ohhh… well, that. My costume still keeps me cozy and I like it. Do you like it?” Amira asked him, Bruce noticing her fidget with her hands.

“I like it very much.” He easily answered, kissing the top of her head, earning a giggle. “I can’t wait to have you as my sidekick.” Amira gasped, turning to hug him.

“You really mean it?”

“When you’re old enough you join me.”

“Really, really?”

“Really, really.” Bruce assured, chuckling when Amira cheered, getting off of him and deciding to jump around his study in celebration before she gasped. “What’s wrong?”

“I have to tell Grandpa! After all, he helped me pick my name!”

“He picked your name?” Amira nodded, grinning from ear to ear. 

“He said it would be a nice name because I remind him of the small chickadees outside in the garden. Curious and active.” Amira headed for the door, before turning to the door. “But I like the name because it reminded me of when we went watching birds together and tried to make bird calls together.” She gave him a large smile. “I wanna do that again soon!” With that she left the room, heading to the kitchen where Alfred was surely awaiting her.

Meanwhile, Bruce lifted the drawing up, smiling as he kept staring at it. Opening up a drawer, Bruce placed the drawing alongside the other drawings Amira had made throughout her life. When he tried to close it, he noticed the drawing stick out.

“I think I’m going to have to store them elsewhere…”

-

“Amira, are you sure you’re alright?” Wally whispered to her, Amira finally snapping from her thoughts.

“Yeah…I’m fine.” She looked down at the doll, her mind suddenly remembering her old Batman plush she last saw in the manor. “Just feeling a bit nostalgic.”

“Hey, whose gift is this? It’s the only one left under the tree.” Nino asked, holding up a small gift, everyone wondering who it was for.  “There’s no name on it.”

“Oh, that’s for everyone.” Marinette quickly chirped, placing Chickadee to the side, quickly jogging up to Nino and opened up the box. “I got these bracelets for you guys.” The others quickly gathered around here, Marinette feeling her heart soar when she heard Chloe and Sabrina gasp when she opened the box open. 

“Oh my, Marinette! They’re so pretty!” Sabrina cooed, her eyes following the bracelet Marinette lifted from the box and placed into her hands.

“Is that my name?” Nino asked in amazement when Marinette placed a different bracelet into his hands, feeling the weight the small box in his hand had. He couldn’t take his off the gleaming polished silver laying in his hands.

“Mine has my name too!” Adrien squealed when he got his, quickly taking it out the box and looped it around his wrist. “Chlo, help me put it on!”

“Adrikins, give me a moment! I’m still putting on my own!” Chloe panicked as she almost dropped her bracelet.

“Chloe, look! We all got matching items!” Sabrina squealed, trying her best to not tackle the girl.

Marinette watched as the friends put the bracelets on, showing them off to each other. “Seems like they like it.” She told herself, feeling something slip around her wrist.

“You have to wear yours as well māomāo.“ Selina told her, clasping a matching bracelet. “It suits you nicely.”

“I would’ve gotten a rose gold one, but I like the silver one better.” Amira told her, looking at the tiny chain around her wrist, the three small diamond “beads” twinkling in delight. “Also, the rose gold suits Sabrina while the pure gold one suits Chloe. I’m glad the boys like their bracelets; I didn’t think they’d like the ID bracelets that much to be completely honest.”

The ringing of a phone cut the excitement, everyone taking out their phones to see who was receiving a call.

“Oh, it’s my mom.” “Dad?” “Hmph.” Nino, Adrien and Chloe said at the same time, each going to different corners of the room to answer the phone. 

After a while, each of them said their goodbyes on the phones before turning back to the rest.

“I have to go.” The three of them said in unison.

“My dad just texted me when I’m coming back home.” Sabrina sheepishly added. 

“I guess is had been a few hours since you’ve 

“How am I going to take this home?” Nino wondered as he watched the rest easily pick up their gifts.

“We can send it over kiddo.” Dick popped out of nowhere. “Don’t worry about it!”

“Ahhh thank you again Marinette!” Sabrina thanked, squeezing Marinette. “I’ll cherish this forever!”

“We have to do this again.” Adrien vowed.

“That we do.” Marinette agreed. “We should get Kagami to join us as well.”

“Maybe we should invite the others as well.” Wally suggested, Marinette clearly knowing who he was referring to.

“Only if they promise to be on their best behaviors.”

One by one, the friends bid their goodbyes, Marinette waving them goodbye as Adrien and Chloe got into a car and drove away. As for Sabrina and Nino, Selina offered to drop them at their homes, Dick promising Marinette that he will make sure Selina doesn’t try to speed through the city and scare her friends.

With just her and Wally left at the apartment, there was only one last thing to deal with.

“I’ll be right here if anything happens.” Wally reminded Amira as she walked up the stairs that led to her bedroom.

“I know.”

-

She really didn’t know anything about Marinette, now did she?

Upon entering the room, Alya wondered how much the others knew about Marinette. 

Did they know this much about her while she knew nothing?

While the room looked small, there were so many items that laid around that cleared showed her interests. 

Starting off with the gifts she got today. 

A brand new duffel bag from Kagami (the girl had given Adrien the responsibility of handing it Marinette for her), a set of gouache paints from Adrien, an assortment of hair accessories from Sabrina, some roller skates from Nino, a designer leather jacket from Chloe and lastly, the hairless cat sleeping by the window sill. 

Alya knew Marinette was into fencing since she was there when she first started the sport at their school, but she didn’t know she was into art and fashion.

She didn’t take Marinette to be an art person to be honest. 

Definitely took her for an academic, the small bookcase with workbooks justifying her assumption. 

Diagonally, there was a bean bag sitting next to a makeshift work area, monitors displaying different charts of who knows what on one side while the other had pieces of electronics scattered about. 

A cork board barely peaked from behind the clutter of lamps and circuit boards, diagrams and blueprints pinned carefully onto it. 

Small stacks of notebooks could also be seen laying around the desk, an array of post it notes scattered about to add to the chaos. 

Right above the desk was Marinette’s bed, plain beige sheets and few pillows could barely be seen from where Alya stood. And if she tippy toed just a bit, she could barely make out the corner of what she believed to be another cork board. 

To her right, there was the entrance of what seemed to be another room, but judging from the curtains hanging by the doorway and a small ottoman next to a full length mirror, Alya assumed it to be a walk-in closet. 

Right outside the closet was a whiteboard, half of it having a to-do list and covered with reminders on post-it notes. 

Speaking of boards, Alya couldn’t help but realize the odd number of them in the room. There was a cork board by the bed, one by the desks, the white board in front of her and then another she saw as soon as she entered the room. 

Wasn’t four boards too much? 

Then again, Marinette was a bit over the top with her organization. 

“Ten minutes, just like I promised.” Marinette said, making Alya jump. “So what brings you here, Alya?” 

Alya watched as Marinette nonchalantly sat by her desk, shutting a journal closed. “I’m pretty sure you’re not here to wish me a me-”

“Just what am I to you, Marinette?” Alya quickly blurted out. 

“What?”

“What am I to you?” Alya asked, biting her tongue to keep herself calm. “I came here because I wanted to apologize to you for not visiting you. To apologize for being a terrible friend, only to see you happily spending time with,” Alya motioned to the hatch, trying to point at it only to end up with a balled fist. “I thought I was your friend!”

Alya hated that Marinette didn’t react to anything she’s said so far. She hated that she kept sitting there, just staring at her. “I thought I knew you the most compared to them but, they’re here while I’m not. 

You told me that you weren’t doing anything this Christmas or rather over winter break and yet I come here and see you do just that?” Oh god, Alya could feel her gut twist. “Why didn’t you say you were doing something? Why didn’t you invite me?

I would’ve come!” Alya exclaimed, feeling her throat grow dry. Marinette simply stared back at her, which made Alya start to finally tear up. “Why aren’t you saying anything?!”

“I was waiting for you to finish.” Marinette simply answered back. “So, are you?”

“What kind of person says that?! What kind of fr-“

“Are you?” She asked again. She took Alya’s angry silence as a yes. “I didn’t invite you because it wasn’t my idea to host a party at the-my residence.” She corrected herself. “Adrien had originally hosted it at his place but after last night's incident, they decided-“

“Last night?” Alya asked, only then noticing the bandage on Marinette’s hand and the bandage across her face. Why hadn’t she noticed it before? “What happened last-“

“I got kidnapped.” Marinette bluntly stated, as if it were the most common thing in the world. 

“What?”

“I got kidnapped on my way to Adrien’s. Thankfully, thanks to Selina and the rest of her family, I-“

“Are you okay? What about your parents? Are-”

“My parents weren’t here when it happened. They had gone to China to visit family for the holidays. And before you say anything, I wanted to stay behind to spend time with my friends rather than go overseas to a place I’m not familiar with and most definitely spend time with people I do not know. Because of that, Selina offered to look after me and is blaming herself for letting me get kidnapped.” Marinette clenched her hand. “She shouldn’t feel that way. She didn’t know that would happen…”

A silence filled the room, Alya wondering what to say, what to ask. Because, what the hell? She can’t take back what she said, she wouldn’t have said that if she knew that Marinette had been abduct- “So, what’s the real reason you’re here Alya?”

There was that question again… 

“I came because I wanted to apolo-”

“If you were truly here to apologize, then it would’ve been the first thing you would’ve done upon seeing me. 

But you didn’t. Instead, for some reason, you decided to lash out on me about a party I did not organize and therefore did not invite you to.

If apologizing was what you came for, you wouldn’t have brought up your anger of being left out…it were as if apologizing was a secondary excuse and not the prime reason for you being here. 

So tell me, what was the actual reason you decided to come today to see me?”

Right…that’s another reason why Alya slightly hated Marinette when she first met her. For some reason, she was able to see right through you…and she really hated that…

“You were right about Lila.” Alya confessed. “I dug up everything I could about her and you were right. She was lying about everything. The majority of the so-called things she supposedly did while traveling, she never did any of them! She never met Prince Ali, she doesn’t know any celebrities personally, she was never in Gotham. Mari, she couldn’t even tell me the name of the person who donated the most for the new charity. Lila-”

“You wanted to talk to me about Lila?” Marinette concluded, causing Alya to freeze. “You came here, today to talk about-”

“At first, yes. Yes, that’s why I can but then I realized how horrible of a friend I was.” Alya grabbed Marinette’s hands, “I…I’m sorry for never asking you how you were, for not once checking on when you needed me the most! After all, what kind of best friend-”

“Best friend?” Alya didn’t expect Marinette to let out a small laugh, or rather, a scoff. “Alya, we may be friends, but, truth be told…I don’t think we know each other that well to call us ‘best friends.’

“I know that now; when I stepped into your room, I realized there was still so much I don’t know about you. But even so, I-“

“Alya you said it yourself; you never once checked up on me after the whole Banshee incident…it's been well over two weeks since then - it’s almost the end of the month, Alya. I turned into Banshee almost a month ago…

Where were you during all of this?”

“Marinette…I-” Marinette shook her head, prompting Alya to keep quiet. But she didn’t. “You opened my eyes…about a lot of things. 

But more than anything…you made me realize that everything isn’t what it seems to be…”

“Just like I’ve told you before.”

“And while you made me realize that Lila’s words were lies… what about yours?”

Marinette stared at Alya, her gut starting to churn uncomfortably. 

“What do you-“

“You said Jason died almost a year back and yet…he’s downstairs. A-and I know you’re not someone who would just lie- my god Marinette! You’re the most blunt person I know! You always say what’s on your mind, the truth, the obvious! So I never doubted the words you said while you screamed at Lila that day, because I didn’t have to be somebody close to know to recognize the pain in your words, the agony in them as you defended Jason…but then…

As I search up on the different events Lila claimed to have done or gone to, I find out…that Jason is alive?”

Oh…oh…

“Alya- I- I don’t know how-“

“And then to top it off, while researching about last month’s gala, turns out Jason had prepared a video explaining the creation of the latest found-“

“Video?” Marinette asked Alya, taking her by surprise. “What video?”

“The video? You know, the one where-“

“Show me this video. Please.” 

Alya started to type up something in the search bar, pressing enter that loaded a few videos to choose from. 

Clicking the first one, it showed a teen posting about the gala, Amira watching as the teen vlogging their adventure around the ballroom. She watched as Alya scrubbed through the video, the screen going dim for a while as a screen projector started to play a video. 

A video of Jason greeting the guests and explaining the purpose of the Catherine Todd Foundation. 

She watched as Jason spoke with pride, watching as she bid the audience goodbye with a large smile on his face…

“Marinette…are you okay?” Alya asked, her eyes darting from Marinette to the now black screen. 

A laugh escaped Marinette, which then turned into full on laughter. 

“Marinette?” Marinette noticed the fear in Alya’s eyes, how Alya was ready to sprint if necessary. 

“Is that fear I see?” Marinette started to settle down, stepping away from Alya. “Of course you’re terrified of me…after all, who wouldn’t be terrified of the girl who became one of the biggest threats to Paris since Hawkmoth first appeared?

“Marinette…what are you talking about? I’m not afra-“

“You are. Or rather, everyone is. Banshee…she’s the worst thing Hawkmoth has ever created and that’s not going to leave anyone’s mind any time soon…”

“What? Marinette, Banshee-“

“-wasn’t me? Of course it was. I was her while she was me…

Banshee was an extension of my feelings at that time and…I don’t blame the people for fearing that girl…”

“Marinette, no one knows it was you. You-“

“But the damage has been done.” Alya watched as Marinette pulled up various online articles and forums on her computer, each one having the same subject in their headliners: Banshee. 

Every article had different blurry pictures of her akumatized form from different angles, different locations. Some had clearer images of what seemed to be Marinette surrounded by the Parisian vigilantes while others had videos of the streets of Paris covered in fog with a single white figure walking through the scene. “The whole world knows how dangerous Paris has become…and it’s all my fault.”

“I- Didn’t…how?” Alya stuttered, watching other cities and nations' reactions to the akuma situation, watching how they were quick to demonize Marinette, or rather Banshee, without knowing the full situation. “Isn’t the identity-”

“-Of the Victim supposed to be protected from society? The videos from the akuma attack are supposed to be limited to that of just Paris?” Marinette completed, looking back at the screen in front of her. “I thought so too…but from what my lawyers told me, it seems that when Banshee appeared, there also happened to be some sort of security breach of the city’s internet that allowed all of these photos and videos to be posted without the government’s consent. 

So while my identity hasn’t exactly been exposed to the world, some people in the city of Paris do. 

Who exactly, that I’m not sure about. But for the time being, my lawyers said I should prevent myself from going outside for the next few months while the situation gets sorted out…”

“A security breach…” Alya repeated to herself, watching as Marinette kept staring at the screen. “Is this…is this your first time seeing yourself-” Marinette nodded her head.

“To think I did all of this…” Alya watched as Marinette continued to stare at the screen. “I don’t even remember half of this…”

Remember…remember?

“Marinette…” Should she really ask her? “What do you mean by that? You…remember what happened while you were akumatized?” Alya never saw Marinette whip her head so fast. 

“I-I didn’t,” Marinette eyed the hatch, quickly going to open it when Alya stepped on the door, the hatch shutting with a loud thud. 

“Marinette…you remember your akumatization, don’t you?”

Marinette remained silent. “Marinette, please. Just tell me the truth. Do you  remember everything that happened while you were akumatized?” 

Marinette’s silence told her everything, Alya holding her hands gently. “You do, don’t you?”

Marinette’s squeeze told her everything. “Does Chloe-“

“Chloe doesn’t know.” Marinette answered quicker than what she wanted to. “Nor does Adrien. Nor any of the others… I…I don’t want to burden them…”

“Marinette. While you were with your therapist, didn’t they tell you anything about-“

“My therapist was supposed to know what to do in this situation?”

“Yes! That’s the whole reason why attending each session is important-“ Marinette’s frantic eyes made her stop. “You…you are going to therapy…aren’t you?”

“Alya.” Marinette distantly spoke, letting go of her hands. “I-I…Alya. I don’t…

What- I don’t know what to do.” 

“Marinette.”

“It’s been days since I’ve been seeing a therapist and yet…I can’t bring myself to tell them what I need to say. What I want to say. 

Everything- I wish I could say what I want to but just- argh!” Marinette let out a mixture of a growl, a sigh and a huff though Alya really didn’t know what to make of it. “Why can’t I just forget it all? I don’t want to remember this at all! I wish it never happened!”

“But it happened, and we just…we just got to power through it.”

“Like you did when you became LadyWifi?”

“Exactly. Sometimes, sometimes I wish I at least remembered doing some of the things I did. 

It’s hard to believe otherwise that it was indeed me. 

Having to go to therapy and finding out about the trouble you did…it was as if I was going to court for a crime I didn’t know happened.” Marinette didn’t know what came over her, but she brought Alya into a hug before pushing herself when she realized what she did.

“About earlier,” Marinette fumbled. “I don’t think I would consider you my best friend, but…you're definitely a friend. What type of friend, I don’t know but just know that-“

“I’m okay with that.” Alya cut her off, giving her a smile. “I just have to work my way to being your close friend one day.” She opened up the hatch, ready to leave. 

“Alya!”

“Yes?”

“Would you like some pastries?” Marinette asked, pink dusting her cheeks. “I still have left over from yesterday and I don’t think I can finish-”

“Sure thing!”

-

After giving Alya some leftover pastries from the bakery, Amira had one last friend to send off home.

“Get there safely.” Amira softly said, handing Wally over his bag. 

“You can come as well, you know.” Wally offered. 

“You should spend New Years with your family. After all, you haven’t seen them in a while.” She encouraged. “Besides, we always have the zeta tubes to see one another. They don’t.”

Wally huffed, looking at the phone booth before looking back at Amira. 

“I can always see them after the New Years.” He said as he held onto her hand. “I can still-“

“Wally. I’ll be fine.” She tried to say in a steady tone, only for her voice to tremble towards the end. 

“Amira, you know…just say the word and I’ll-”

“I know.” Amira tried to say with a smile. “But I can’t keep you from your family any longer than I already have.” 

“Amira, I can-”

“It’s going to be alright…I’ve got my team to help.” She reassured. “My dad is also here if anything goes wrong.” Wally frowned at that. “Wally, I’ll be fine, really.” He sighed.

“Promise me you’ll call me if anything-”

“I will.” The two stared at each other before Wally gave her one last hug. 

“Seriously. I’m just a call away, okay?” He felt her nod, finally letting go of her. “I’ll see you when you take down the big man, okay?”

Amira smiled as they waved each other goodbye, watching as Wally entered the phone booth and closed the door behind him. 

A slight glow emitted from the booth, signaling Wally’s departure, Amira letting her smile drop.

“I don’t think I can hold up to that Wally.” Amira let out a dry laugh. “How can I defeat Hawkmoth when I no longer have possession of the earrings?”

-

It was already 9 in the morning, Damian finding himself wondering what to do. He had already spent most of the early morning watching surveillance footage of the last place his father was seen entering, which honestly was a waste of time. Ever since his father entered the bakery, he hasn't walked out. 

He was starting to get annoyed with having nothing to do. Sitting in front of the Batcomputer was starting to become draining.

“Master Damian,” Alfred spoke up, Damian turning a bit to see Alfred standing right beside him. 

“Pennyworth.” 

“I believe it would do you some good to exercise your body for a bit.” Alfred suggested, setting down a single cup of tea.

“I don’t believe I asked for-”

“I took it upon myself to also create a simple layout of the mansion.” Alfred took out a folded sheet of paper. “If you choose to explore it to your heart’s content as a choice of stretching the body. After all, you have the run of the mansion and sitting at the computer is not good for a growing boy such as yourself.”

Damian eyed the paper, deciding to take Alfred’s offer and ignore the insult.

“I guess I will explore the mansion for a bit.” Damian concluded, getting up from the chair and taking the paper from Alfred. He opened the paper up, exposing three floors worth of blueprint layout of the mansion. While glossing over the maps, Damian couldn’t help but get intrigued by the archive room on the first floor. “Perhaps I shall wallow into my father’s family history.”

With that, Damian walked away from the Batcave, hoping to entertain himself by learning his past.

“Happy hunting, Master Damian.”

-

Amira quietly shut the door behind herself, letting out a sigh she didn’t know she was keeping in for a while. 

She could hear the chatter of the boys playing in the living room, laughing when she heard Jason curse at Dick for throwing a turtle shell at him.

If Dick was back, then Selina also had to be back…

“He’s finally back.” She told herself, feeling something rise to her throat. Without another moment, she raced to her room, feeling the tears already falling down her face.

She quickly wiped them away with each one that fell, trying to regulate her breathing as she did so. 

With a final deep breath, she found herself with a clear head, noticing she was sitting at her desk, her mother’s envelope peering from underneath a book. 

Just as she lifted it up, her father decided to check on her.

“Can I-” Amira hesitantly nodded, motioning him to join her. “What do you have there?” Bruce watched as she hesitated to speak.

“Talia gave it to me.” She watched as fear crawled into his eyes, watching as he grabbed her shoulders with an immense grip.

“What did she say to you?”

“N-nothing much.” Amira winced, feeling her father’s grip get stronger. “You’re hurting me.” Bruce quickly let go of his daughter, bringing his hands back to side.

“I’m sorry. I-Just…She should’ve just talked to me first. She knows she could-”

“Whether it was yesterday or some other day, she would’ve found me at some other time.” Amira lifted the wax seal from the envelope, wondering what her mother could’ve left behind. “And, well…she gave it to Wally once they found her location after she basically kidnapped m-”

She didn’t expect her father to basically tackle her, pulling her into his embrace. She tried to wriggle herself away from his hold only for him to hold on tighter. “Let go.” 

He didn’t. “Let go.”

He didn’t budge. “Dad! Let go! Please!” Amira had to push herself off of him, her eyes growing wide when she saw his face. “You’re crying…” 

She never saw tears on her father’s face before. As in, falling down his face- because tearing up, yeah he has done that before, but literally crying? 

Never.

“Ah, sorry. I-” Bruce tried to apologize, but it was as if he spoke some secret code that caused more tears to pour out. “Are you okay?”

“I should be asking you that.” Amira corrected, deciding to sit back down instead of approaching him. 

Silence filled the room, Amira wondering what to do. Should she try and ask him if he was alright? Coax an answer as to why he was-

“I should’ve been there for you. I never should’ve left for the gala. I should’ve stayed. You were in danger and I just-”

“Dad, please. Calm-”

“Did she plan this? Was Ra’s visit to the manor also-”

“Mother didn’t know about-”

“Did she do anything to you? Did she offer you-”

“Dad!” Amira cried, panicking as she saw her father spiral down his thoughts, wondering if she should call Selina or try and do something herself. “Dad, please!”

“Ra’s. He probably-”

“Dad, please! Can you hear me?” 

“He knew. He knew where you were all this time. That piece of-”

“Dad! Look at me! Please!” Amira begged, holding her father’s face between her hands, hoping that he would see her. “Please, just look at me.”

She watched as his eyes started to clear up, watching as more tears pooled. He quickly turned away from her. “Dad?”

“I failed you.”

“What?”

“I failed you…” he said a bit louder than before, now looking at her. “I told myself, promised myself that I would protect you no matter what, that I would do whatever it would take to keep you safe…instead, I’ve done anything but that.

Even with all the tools at my disposal, I couldn’t keep you safe while under my watch…”

The room went silent.

“Ever since I was a child,” Amira started, trying her best to be mindful of her next words, “you’ve always told me to always be on my guard, on the lookout for any suspicious thing. 

You’ve taught me to be wary of strangers since I was four. To read a situation when I was five. We created safe codes for each other when I was six. When you let me join your training sessions with Dick, you’ve taught me basic self defense…

You did your best in training me to defend myself. I-”

“But it wasn’t enough.” Bruce almost yelled. “You got kidnapped…twice already and then got into an altercation with Slade just-”

“But that wasn’t your fault. No one-”

“I could’ve prevented it if I had more eyes-”

“More eyes doesn’t always guarantee-”

“Amira, you could’ve lost you today.” Bruce bluntly stated, Amira not realizing that her father was holding her hands, noticing how they shaked. 

Or maybe…maybe it was her hands that were the ones that were shaking. “And it would’ve been all my fault…my fault that I let someone close to me die again…my fault for allowing my one and only daughter to die within my arm’s reach…and that would’ve been more terrifying than anything else in the world…

Not even my own death would atone for that…

Amira…losing you, leaving you has been my greatest fear since you were brought into my life.” Bruce confessed. “I don’t ever want you to suffer as I did as a child, to be left by yourself at some of the most important times of your life…

That is why I’ve always tried to keep you within my reach…to keep you safe…

I don’t ever want you to become a target by just simply being my daughter…

I just want to let you live your life with no worries…as any child should…as is your right…”

Amira simply stood there, processing all the information her father just told her, connecting the newly given information with everything she knew about her father’s past as well as her mother’s past…everything behind her father’s choice made sense…and yet…

“Don’t you think I should’ve had a say on those things as well?”

“What do you mean by that?” Amira opened her mouth to speak only to close it again. “Amira, just say it. I won’t-”

“Shouldn’t I at least have been given the chance to say how I want to live my childhood? To use my name as that- my name?

Yes, I know that our last name is a giveaway; that it would make me a bigger target. But why couldn’t I still use my name: Amira? Why did you choose to call me Marinette?

Why couldn’t I be ‘Amira?’

I grew up knowing that I was ‘Amira Wayne,’ that I was the sole daughter of the Bruce Wayne. That I was ‘Amira.’ But then ‘Marinette Dupain’ came along and that’s who I had to become for everyone else except for you, Grandpere and Dick. 

Jason…he met me as Marinette and then Amira but even then!

I never felt like Marinette. And even though I didn’t feel like ‘Marinette,’ I don’t feel like ‘Amira’ either. Especially now that I finally met my birth mother…someone who you rarely talked about and I should’ve known about!

I could’ve cared less about Ra’s Al Ghul, but Talia? The woman who risked her life to have me? Who risked her life to bring me to you?

Don’t you think I deserved to know about her? Or at least know her name?”

Amira watched as her father wiped away a tear from her face.

“I know now that I shouldn’t have.” Bruce confessed. “I should’ve never kept her away from you, I should’ve told you about the one of the most amazing women I had the pleasure to meet.

Perhaps if I had told you the stories of our adventures while in the League of Assassins, you would’ve seen the same smart young lady I see in you today.”

“So tell me then, Dad. Tell me about the woman named Talia.”

“I think we should do that some other time, not now.” Bruce looked at the envelope that rested on the desk. “For now, you should probably read the letter Talia left for you, don’t you think?”

-

Damian pocketed the needle back into its place as he pulled the archive room door open, surprised to see that there wasn’t a speck of dust in the room.

“Seems like Pennyworth is really worth his salt.” 

As Damian quickly toured the room, at moments stopping to pick up a book or item that caught his attention. Sadly, it piqued his curiosity for a moment only to realize it wasn’t something worth reading or observing any further.

It wasn’t until he was about to leave when he noticed a tarp from the corner of his eye.

The canvas tarp barely peaked from behind a few stacked boxes located at the corner of the room, Damian carefully moving the boxes to get to the tarp.

Realizing he couldn’t exactly just move the covered item to the center of the room, Damian decided to then and there reveal the item.

The portrait he saw wasn’t something he was familiar and yet…

-

After a bit of coaxing from her father and an agreement for him to tell her his side of how he met her mother, Amira finally decided to listen to her father and open the envelope.

“You don’t have to share with me that’s inside…I just want to be here if you need me for anything.” Bruce assured, remaining where he was seated. 

She opened it up, wondering if what she saw was indeed what she thought it was. 

“She gave me a credit card and a set of coordinates with a date.” Amira told her father, showing him the black card and the piece of paper with the date and location. “My dearest Amira, I know this won’t make up for the time we’ve lost with one another, however, I hope my most prized possessions can help you find some answers you were looking for during the years we were apart.

If my possessions do not hold the answers you’ve been looking for, always know that I am more than happy to answer them directly if you ever wish to know. 

With that, stay safe and know that I will always hold you close to my heart, baobei. 

With love, Talia.” Amira softly ended, finding herself dragging her finger over her mother’s name.

Without another second to lose, Amira got up to look for the box Wally showed her earlier, lifting it and setting it onto her desk.

Carefully unwrapping it, Amira didn’t expect to see a photo album sitting inside the box. Lifting it out the box, Amira opened up the album, not believing her eyes.

“Is this me?” She asked ever so softly, continuing to turn page after page, filled with baby photos of herself from when she was born to the last day she was with her mother.

When she got to the last page, Amira froze.

There, centered in the middle of the back of the album was one of those photos you’d place in a wallet.

A photo that couldn’t be any bigger than five centimeters in height and yet…

“I can’t believe she still has it despite its condition.” Her father commented, making Amira turn to him, taken aback at the softness of his eyes. “We took this picture years ago.”

The tiny photo was crumpled up, its edges worn and even had creases right down the middle along both lengths, the paper starting to break from all the folding. “We took this picture the day you came to the manor.”

-

“Take care of her.” Talia told Bruce as she cupped his face with a hand, bringing herself closer to him and giving him a kiss. “Goodbye, habibi.” 

Bruce watched as she took in a shaky breath before promptly turning away and headed for the door. 

“Talia.” He barely croaked out, but she kept walking away. 

“Talia. Wait.” Bruce warbled a bit louder, grasping her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers, her back still turned towards him. “Stay. Stay for a while.”

“Bruce.” Talia said with a breath, not daring to open her eyes. She needed to go. Now. “I have to-“

“Just for a few hours.” He gave her hand a firm squeeze, which in turn squeezed her heart. 

‘Please don’t do this to me Bruce.’

“Please.” He begged of her. 

‘Don’t make me do something that will cause our daughter harm.’ 

‘Please.’

Amira’s cooing snapped Talia from her turmoil, finally turning and making eye contact with her daughter. 

Amira smiled and gurgled upon seeing her mother, stretching out her hands in hopes of getting held, not comprehending the tears that streamed down her mother’s face. 

Giving into her heart, Talia took Amira into her arms, holding her tightly against her chest, Amira giggling upon successfully getting into her mother’s embrace. 

“Just…just a few more hours. Just a few more.” Talia agreed, walking up to Bruce, resting her head on his chest. “I want to relish these last hours together...this time we are together…as a family...”

“As do I.” Bruce replied, hugging Talia and in turn, hugging Amira. “But, there’s something else I want to do as well.” Talia looked at her Beloved, wondering what his next words would be. 

As if to answer, a knock came at the door, followed by a gentleman walking in with a large case in his hand. 

“Master Bruce. It’s a pleasure to meet you again.”

“Sam. Hello and I apologize for the short notice.” The elderly man chuckled, Talia’s “How did you manage to get him?” getting ignored.

“You know nothing is ever short noticed with you. There’s always a good reason for these types of things.” With that, Bruce smiles. 

“Sam, I’d like for you to meet Talia...and my daughter.” Sam gawked at Bruce, his head turning as he looked at Bruce and then at Talia before his eyes landed in Amira.  

Letting out a hearty laugh, Sam patted Bruce’s shoulder. 

“Consider this session on the house! Let me get the camera set and I’ll call you when we can start!” Sam grinned as he walked out the room, heading to the portrait room. 

“Camera?” Talía asked, Amira reaching out for her mother’s hand. 

“I know it’s sudden. And I know that the future is unsure, but,” he pressed his forehead against Talia’s, looking down at their daughter. “I want this moment to live on forever, even if it’s in the form of a photo.”

It took a while for those words to sink in, but when they did, Talia couldn’t help but let out a laugh, her eyes stinging as she held onto Amira for dear life and held Bruce’s hand tightly, afraid this blissful moment  might disappear if she let go of either of them. 

“Alright Mr.Wayne!” Sam popped in a few moments later, graphite smeared on the side of his hand. “We can start the photo session!”

-

Damian could only stare at the portrait staring straight back at him, looking at the three subjects of the incomplete painting, a single photo taped to the side as a reference of what the complete portrait was supposed to look like. 

At the right center, he could clearly identify his father, looking extremely young, his hair lacking a single gray hair and not a single wrinkle near his eyes. His eyes…they had a shine to them that Damian couldn’t exactly pinpoint an emotion to, eyes that bore something in them as they looked at the other two subjects of the painting. There was his sister, who had to be roughly half a year old, judging from the clothing she was wearing and the roundness of her cheeks. She had a huge smile, a smile Damian wondered if her current self was capable of the same thing. And then there was the person that held his sister with gentle arms, a person that Father held close to him with a smile.

Her skin reminded him of his sister’s and his own, her smile…a smile he saw only once on Ra’s years ago…but…

“Who are you?”

-

Alya grinned, humming as she walked back home. She also couldn’t help but notice the lightness in her steps, the skips adding to the euphoria. 

Maybe it was because she got some homemade cookies from Marinette. Maybe it was because she made up with Marinette. Or perhaps she was finally able to talk to someone else aside from her therapist about her akuma-

Akumatization…

How did she know?

How did she know-

Alya snapped from her trance, realizing she had already closed the apartment door behind her. That she was already home. 

But the question remained. 

How did she know about her akumatization? 

Alya let go of the bag, the cakes and macarons inside meeting the floor with a loud thud. 

Alya dashed for her room, ignoring the yells she got from Nora about no shoes inside the house. 

She stripped her coat off of her, flinging her hat and scarf to the side. 

She quickly got into her chair, turning on her laptop as she kicked her boots off. She muttered under her breath as she clicked on the mouse as if that would make the laptop boot up any faster. 

Once loaded, Alya started to put it to work, quickly opening windows and tabs, the clicking and clacking of her keyboard and mouse filling her room. 

She adjusted her glasses as she scrolled and dragged between articles and her spreadsheet, skimming through the paragraphs of words that didn’t have a smidge of what she was looking for... 

Which exactly answered her question. 

“How did she know I was LadyWifi?” Alya found herself whispering, scanning for any possible answer to her question. 

All that stared back at her was the website of the most reliable blog aside from her own: Beetle and Cat. 

Beetle and Cat was created the same day Ladybird appeared, but unlike Alya’s blog, B&C was more on the informative side. More focused on giving news about the fights and uploading crisp full length videos of every public speech Ladybird had given. 

Articles, on the other hand, Beetle and Cat had all 63 akuma incident reports and 2 programs Ladybird and Chat Noir had done since they’d become the vigilantes of Paris. Sure it was two, but it really impacted the city.

Out of the two programs, the very first is the most important one: the Akumatization Protection Program that-

“They may have the answer.” She muttered to herself, quickly clicking links until she found a hyperlink titled “Know Your Rights to Therapy: Citizens.”

Clicking it, Alya was redirected to a medical website.

“Creations Medical?” Alya asked no one, wondering who would ever call their pharmaceutical branch such an odd name. 

She was met with how to apply for therapy with the assistance of Creations Medical and how to use the Akumatization Protection Program to have your fees waived, even if you weren’t akumatized yourself. 

“Under Section 4 of Article 1 of Protections and Rights of the Manipulated, anyone and everyone involved in any of the incidents created by Hawkmoth are granted therapy. Creations Medical will cover all expenses, including transportation, medication and relocation if needed. 

If you are a civilian that was affected by any previous incident and wish to-”

“What is “Protections and Rights of the Manipulated”?”

Whipping up another tab, Alya typed the document to the search bar, but nothing.

All she got were brief mentions of the article and a summary to its main points and that was it.

That it was the concluded agreements between the vigilantes of Paris and Parliament. But that was all.

No full article, no blurry screenshot or blurry photo, nothing.

So then…does it actually exist?

Alya sat there for a while, wondering what to-

She quickly grabbed her phone and texted Max, mentally scolding herself for asking Max to help her hack into a government document. 

She explained to him her situation, quickly lying that she wanted to use it to update her blog regarding the therapy program but needed full access to the document to give the public an informative page.

She tapped her desk as she waited for an answer, not expecting Max to send a pdf back so quickly along with a ‘you owe me’ as well.

Quickly opening up the pdf, Alya didn’t need to search far for what she needed.

Protections and Right of the Manipulated

Ladybird and Chat Noir vow to protect Paris until the threat is no more, however, the citizens are always a priority before their own.

As so, gathering here today, XX of September of the year XXXX, are Ladybird, Chat Noir and Parliament of Paris to discuss and establish the rights of those who have fallen under the manipulation of the city of Paris’ current threat: Hawkmoth.

Article 1. 

Section 1: 

The vigilantes, Ladybird and Chat Noir, as well as the Parliament of Paris agree to keep the identities of those manipulated by Hawkmoth a secret. 

Through thorough investigation, all citizens who have gone under Hawkmoth’s mind control do not recall any conversations nor actions they have done once Hawkmoth has gone into contact with them and once he leaves the mind of the person controlled. 

Therefore, it was concluded that citizens were being controlled beyond their will and therefore should not be held accountable for the actions. In other words, the citizens are innocent and are victims of Hawkmoth’s criminality. As thus, Victims of Hawkmoth are not the criminals in any of the incidents that have occurred under mind control and their actual identities should not be revealed to the public to protect the citizen.

Not exactly what she needed, but even so, it was something. Scrolling some more, Alya found what she needed.

Article 2.

All citizens who fell under Hawkmoth’s control are protected by the Akumatization Protection Program (APP).  Under this program, the government cannot, under any circumstance, hold a citizen accountable for an incident without the approval of Ladybird and Chat Noir. Nor can the government approach the civilian without either vigilante present. 

Furthermore, the government cannot disclose the name nor picture of the akumatized civilian to any media outlet. Under the case that the government does, the law will be involved. 

This also goes for any identification that has been leaked by any media outlet and any bystander of these incidents.

Any media, bystander or eye witness that has evidence will also be warned of the consequences of revealing any akumatized civilian’s identity and will also be dealt with by the law should a civilian’s identity be revealed.

If there is no bystander or eye witness, the only people who should know the akumatized civilians’ identities and therefore interact with them are Ladybird and Chat Noir, with exceptions to their other team members.

In other words… no regular civilian should know an akumatized civilian’s identity…

Especially for her case…after all…she was by herself when she got akumatized…

So no one should know LadyWifi was her…

No one…besides…

“Besides-” Alya stared at her screen, hating the answer that had unraveled before her. 

She shouldn’t have- she shouldn’t- but she did. 

She knew who did…she knew what this meant…

She knew…she knew something she should’ve never figured out…

“Marinette is Ladybird,” Alya found herself whispering to herself, feeling a lump in her throat. “Marinette is Ladybird…oh god…Marinette is Ladybird…”

Alya held her head in her hands, still trying to process the information. “This isn’t good. Of course it isn’t. When she finds out that I kn- oh god…” Alya felt the blood drain from her face as she recalled the latest akuma…

The akuma where Marinette let out her feelings show… “oh fuck.”

As much as she wanted to tell someone that she knew who was the person behind the mask, Alya didn’t need to be reminded of the dangers of doing that. 

Paris didn’t need another Banshee incident…

Nor another LadyWifi…

Alya stared at her screen, hoping the words on the screen would help her come up with a way to deal with all this. 

“Just what the hell am I supposed to do with this?”

As if on cue, Alya’s phone goes off, making Alya jump in her chair. 

Quickly picking it up, she let out a sigh she didn’t know she was holding in, relieved to see that it was just Chloe sending something to the class-

Of course! 

Just as her finger was about to tap Chole’s name, Alya stopped. 

But would she? Would she even try to hold a conversation? There was only one way to find out. 

Alya quickly tapped on Chloe’s number, tapping the call option and bringing her phone next to her ear. 

She waited as the ringing kept going for a few seconds, biting the tip of her thumb’s nail until a click was heard. 

“Cesaire. What do you want? Was not bothering-“

“It’s-It’s a-about Marinette.” Alya could hear Chloe’s breath hitch. “Can we talk?” Alya held her breath as the silence remained on the other end. “Chloe? Are you th-“

“In my room, at the hotel. We can talk there.”

NEXT

[roberrtphilip]

I think you mentioned once you had headcanons for how Sophia acts when she’s older. can you please share?

oh definitely !!

For starters, I think she looks exactly like Robert. She got his dark, curly hair and his nose, and when she smiles, Giselle insists it looks just like his. She also has his dimples. The only thing she didn’t get from either of them is her green eyes. Oh, she’s also covered in freckles, but unlike her parents, who have light freckles, hers are dark.

As for how she acts, she’s definitely Giselle’s daughter. She talks all the time, and so fast Robert sometimes can’t keep up. With that fast talking also comes very elaborate stories that she makes up on the fly and most of them make no sense, but her parents love hearing them.

She is not shy in the slightest. She’ll talk to anyone that will listen, and always says hi to every stranger that walks by.

She is really big on being outside. She loves playing in dirt, and running around barefoot. She hates shoes and always puts up a fight when she has to wear them. Her argument is always “Mama didn’t have to wear them when she was my age, why do I have to???”

She eventually starts hating dresses as she gets older and usually wears overalls or baggy shirts and shorts.

She is a friend to every critter outside. Because she’s half Andalasian, she can talk to them, and it isn’t uncommon to find her laying in the dirt or in a tree, talking to squirrels or birds.

She loves bugs too (bees especially) and Robert has to constantly remind her to please leave them outside and to please stop putting them on him !!! Does Sofia listen? No. No, not at all. Watching her dad squirm when she dumps a pile of worms or rollie pollies into his lap always makes her laugh way too hard.

Because Giselle collects rocks, Sofia insists on stuffing every one she finds into her pocket and presenting them as gifts for her mother.

She really isn’t afraid of anything, except thunderstorms and the dark. She has at least a million nightlights in her room. Robert often jokes she might as well just sleep with the normal light on. And when it’s storming, she usually slips into her parents bed and sleeps in between them.

She wants to be carried all the time, and neither parent will ever deny her that. She especially loves when Robert gives her piggyback rides.

She struggles with reading herself, but she loves curling up against Giselle’s side and listening to her read. She loves when Robert joins in too, because together, always do silly voices.

She loves watching her mother sew, and always wants to help in some way. Same with cooking. She watches everything her parents do, and again, tries her best to help.

She struggles with remembering to say “please” and “thank you”, but she tries her best!!!

Like Robert and Morgan, she’s left handed.

She’s also very good at math, like Robert!

She really struggles with sitting still, and often gets overwhelmed by loud noises, or if too many people are talking around her (like if they’re in a crowd or busy restaurant for example). The thing that always helps when she’s overstimulated like that is when she presses her ear against Robert’s chest and listens to his heartbeat.

She loooooves her uncle Edward!!! She gets so excited when he visits, or when they go to Andalasia. She always begs him to take her horseback riding, and insists on being taught how to sword fight.

I’m very sleepy, so that’s all I’ve got for now, but thank you, I love talking about my daughter 🫶🏻

[erigold13261]

I love the FRAU designs so much! Some things that I want to ask in relation to that: 1. Is Eve losing self confidence, and that’s why she desires to dress more… elaborately? 2. Why is Yinu hiding her nose birth mark? 3. Why is Neon J no longer wearing the fluff? Sorry for asking so much and boy does everyone here NEED THERAPY!

Thank you! Glad you like them!

1.Eve seems like she always dresses elaborately, whether she is confident or not in herself. At least after she joins NSR. You can see some of the original credits did have Eve in some pretty "out-there" outfits and hairstyles, which only became more of a sample size with the inclusion of fan created art. It just she now has more money and time to create elaborate outfits.

So no, she is not dressing more elaborately because she is losing confidence, at least that is not the entire reason. She is dressing more elaborately because she is losing control of her life and the people she did care for, and being in control of her own look is what is giving her even a bit of control.

However, what she is doing in her dress that is connected to her confidence is the mirrors and crystals covering her red/pinkish skin. She is once again trying to hide that part of her appearance that she came to term with after meeting Zuke, so now that she saw Zuke again (only saw him, not actually met him since he left), she probably reached out to him in at a bad time (obviously since he was still recovering) and the two had a more verbal fight, with May and West to back him up and push her away.

That would make her rethink all the things he said to her that made her confident in her appearance, making her put on the crystals and mirrors to not only hide, but reflect the world away from her. Instead of looking at Eve, you would be looking at yourself (or one of her art pieces reflected) and have to do some self reflection, something that Eve refuses to do.

It also kinda goes into the barrier between her and the people around her, like a one-way mirror. She can see everyone having fun, making friends, looking like they belong, all while she is behind the mirror watching. No one sees her and so she ends up hating herself more. Even when she breaks the glass and wears it she is using the mirrors as tools to reflect others away (the ones on her legs and skirt) or physically/threateningly keep people away (the back piece made of spiked mirrors).

The skirt itself is also used as a way to keep people away. No one wants to bump up against her or step on the tail, so they keep a distance, the distance she wants people to keep. The peacock feathers are already like eyes, keeping an eye on people around her, but also on herself, making her feel like eyes are always on her (and so she makes her illusion eyes to gain control and keep eyes on people around her).

So yeah, it is less about lack of self confidence (but not entirely NOT it) and more about keeping people away from her. She still wants to bring people to her level, but instead of raising them up, she is pushing them through glass to get to wear she is. Not a very pleasant experience if you are trying to reach out to Eve.

2. Yinu wants to get away from her mother. It is similar to Eve's makeup we see in one of her collectibles. It is a part that Yinu hates about herself because it comes from her mother's side of the family. Whenever she looks in the mirror she is reminded that she is stuck with Mama now and that Papa truly is gone forever. She had already come to that fact, but now that his piano is gone and Mama is no longer acting like she did when Papa was alive, Yinu truly feels like even his spirit is gone from her life.

So she hides away from Mama's side of the family and wears similar styled clothes to Papa to try and reconnect with him, but it doesn't seem to be working. Especially since he used to wear so much red because of his love for Mama and Yinu doesn't want to show love to Mama right now, so she wears all black with some yellows to show her love for Papa.

She also picks at the flowers in her hair. Which is one of the main reasons she has such little flowers. Yes a lot of them wilted, but they would have been able to regrow or come back to life over time/during happier moments. But Yinu instead plucked them out, so she will have to wait for more to fully grow once she gets into a happier headspace.

3. He does wear the fluff on his outside jacket when it is raining, very windy, or cold (it doesn't get cold often and the fluff is much smaller than OG Neon's). It is mainly because he doesn't like his already limited field of vision to be blocked. Unlike OG Neon who has sonar, FRAU Neon had literally one okay eye. His left eye is okay-ish but his right eye is almost completely blind.

He also doesn't like people looking at him/having the attention on him. So he just tries to wear pretty normal-looking clothes without much pizazz to them. That's why he doesn't wear too many colors or his medals/extra accessories.

Fun fact though, when he does wear his jacket when it rains, 1010 usually use the flaps on the back as an umbrella/hold them over their heads. There's only 4 flaps and most of them don't like to share (especially White) but that's not a problem because Blue loves the rain and will just stand in it while the others try to keep dry. (Also, I think the fluff might be a hood, idk, I'm just thinking right now. It is definitely water proof floof though).

But yeah! Thanks for the asks! loved talking about all of this! And you are right, they all need therapy!

[typewriter83]

To answer something you wondered when I wrote about chapter 10: yes, I'm the same anon that gives this long ass analysis each chapter.

Some weeks ago I was thinking about your story and I thought "hm, ellie never mentioned riley dying in this universe. Marlene also didn't had any part on this story." But I just forgot about that thought eventually and life passed.

But then you come here and DROP THIS BOMB AND LEAVES? Mama Bear you are.... Oh my god. Okay, I'm skipping to much. Let's go back to the start.

So, I can't stand jackson's council on this story wtf. I mean, in real life is kind of expected that a rapist can get away with the things he did because, well, the world is a bureaucracy that turn simple things into difficult things when it isn't that difficult. But jackson??? The world literally ended, dude. How come they can still look at a rapist and think of some reason he shouldn't be out of the town (not to say dead). I mean, who will stop them? God. Also I feel kind of mad at maria a bit. I mean, I know she feels bad about ellie's situation and that it made her realize she's blind sometimes, but she really chose this moment to back off from the council?? I mean, she could've still be one on the council that could be the voice of the victims (ellie and dina) against david, It's the least she could have done for Ellie after all. She wanted to be bossy and say her unwanted opinions all the time, and now that we want her to do it... Anyways.

So, it's really what you promissed right mama? The 🌶️🌶️🌶️. Girl... Look, reading that whole scene was a mist of ☹️ and 🤭 at the start, david really did some damage to ellie emotionally. But then that freaky ass spicy scene showed up and wuaaaaa *twerking aggressively*. What the fuckkkk. Look, when you made a point of specifying the level of peppers for this chapter, my mind thought of a million things that would have happened in this chapter (when I realized she was on the counter I really thought he was going to kneel and e@t her out. I'm still waiting for that btw), but gurl I would never guess they were going to do that. At one point I remembered Regina's line in meam girls "I was half virgin when I met him" and now I feel like I know what regina was talking about now lmao. Ellie is 98% virgin now. (And I have to tell you ma'm, reading a 🌶️ scene of the forbidden ship with some Rock song playing is another experience. I bet he would've made her 0% virgin if there was some Rock Or Metal playing on that bathroom, he wouldn't have held back).

Joel mentioned Tommy and him are back on talking, bit that hey haven't gone to an understanding. Can you elaborate that? I really wanna know what is stopping them, specially from tommy's part.

He called her pretty gurl in front of Maria and tommy😭 gonna cry. Urgh.

Also, I love how ellie didn't even asked him properly, just gave him an idea but he was already like "yes, anywhere you want". He was so willing to leave. He didn't even think twice (which is good, if you think about some angle. Now they can make any noise as loud as they want without neighbors 🤭 okay I'm gonna stop now). She could ask anything at this point and he would make it come true. He could drop anything for her and you're talented in expressing that in your writing. It makes me wish I was pretty so someone could fall in love with me like this, as intensely and unconditionally as the way you describe joel's love in your stories.

I wonder what marlene and riley's comenack will do. I mean, I'm almost sure there's gonna be some tension in the air when they all reunite because like, she and riley had a thing (innocent and not official, but still a thing), and even a possible beef between riley x joel x ellie, maybe riley would also think he's a dirty old man with no morals and ellie throwing in Riley's face that she left ellie in the past. Marlene, though, is the deal I can't decipher. Why is she going to ellie? I mean, it's gonna take some good affort to convince me she's after ellie for pure emotional reasons. Does she knows ellie can be immune somehow, is that why she's going after ellie? You don't need to answer tho, I just wanted to say everything that comes to my head. All I know is that they all are gonna see how the world is small after this reunion. I mean, What would lead Joel to think that the woman who was his brother's boss for a while is Ellie's mother's best friend? (That even makes me wonder of a "what if" in my mind. how things could have been if any of the millers had contacted ellie earlier through maria in an alternative version of this story. That probably never happened but I really like thinking about past and future and all of that. Blame all the time travel movies I watched lol).

Anways, that was a good chapter, made me real happy to read (I was needing it today, really). Idk if I'm forgetting to mention anything but If I remember something, I will come back. Bye!!

Hello sweet cub - it’s been a week and a half over here, and it was a holiday week! This school year is already kicking our rear ends and September just started.

Learning to Walk and Joellie discussion under cut

Let’s start with David and Jackson - this is not over. 100% this is not over - David is a plot device, and keeping him alive serves a purpose. Trust and believe, I had his 💀 written - WRITTEN - and decided to keep his sick ass around for another day (another chapter, another story - remember I vaguely mention a trilogy?). Maria needs to check herself - because if she doesn’t, she’s going to wonder how she lost her husband, because Tommy is waking up (growing up?) and he’s gonna play a role in where we’re going too. I said earlier that Maria won’t make a 180, but she does need to rethink what it means to be living at the end of the world - old world laws don’t work anymore, and neither does Joel’s idea of justice (it does, lol but it doesn’t).

Mama cannot promise to not bitch about writing spicy scenes, lol - they’re hard for me to write, that probably won’t change. However, the more I write, it does happen faster, which is progress for me. And… well, we’re about to send Joel and Ellie off on their on for awhile and… you never know what might happen when they’re secluded up in the mountains with no electricity and only each other for company - winter is coming, cubs. 🌶️����️ and our “almost virgin” will get her moment - I promise, I’ve already plotted it out - and Joel teaching her some other 🌶️🌶️ stuff, too - just saying.

Tommy and Joel have a tumultuous relationship at best; and Tommy wants that relationship but he doesn’t know what that would look like. Joel has kept to himself a lot, and promised Tommy he would make an effort after Austin was born, but now that he’s clearly chosen Ellie, where does that leave Tommy? Resolutions and a glimpse of what their future will looking like are coming - think boys sitting around a campfire, I have an idea.

Joel choosing Ellie without even thinking - go listen to Post Malone’s “Hide My Gun” - it could go either way with Joel or Ellie asking the other to not ask questions, just hide my gun, but in this case it’s Ellie asking him “would you pack and never-coming-back-again bag?” And the answer is - “when are we leaving?” Not why, not how, just when. Honestly, I think if Joel could, he would find somewhere else for them - he would put her in a truck and drive her off into the sunset. Also, sweet cub, being pretty has nothing to do with loving someone unconditionally 🩷 Joel was shot by this girl, and he still loves her and has made it clear that regardless of their relationship status, he will drop everything and run with her.

I was very vague about Riley - I think she was mentioned two, maybe three, times in the whole story. But Ellie does tell Joel that she cared about her, and then Riley left - hence Ellie’s abandonment issues, right? Riley’s return to Ellie’s life will cause problems (Marlene too, but for other reasons) - a sense of “I’m back, let’s pick up where we left off” which is the kind of vibes Riley gives off - IMO - especially in the show. There’s going to be some canon parallels with both Marlene and Riley, and I don’t want to give anything away - but there’s going to be an adventure coming for this universe. But in essence, Marlene is pissed at Riley for “not securing Ellie” - because everyone in Marlene’s circle is always passed off, including her best friend’s daughter - Marlene expected Riley to close the deal on Ellie, because she didn’t bother to raise her, but she knows Ellie is smart and talented and would have a place in the Fireflies revolution. That’s pretty vague and doesn’t give much away - and I’ve been asked about Ellie’s immunity in this universe before and I won’t give that away either - gonna have to stay tuned for Part 2

Thanks for always coming back!

🫶🏻

[fractured-shield]

DVD Player

DVD Player: post a piece of dialogue from your story

ooooh hang on I know what to use for this one- it's not just dialogue, but I do really like how the dialogue turned out in this scene

She opened her door, stopping for a moment to rub her eyes as they adjusted to the light. Her papa still sat by the fire with his books, like he hadn’t moved at all—except, he’d taken her mama’s shawl and set it over his own shoulders. I was wondering why it was still left out. “What time is it?” She asked, stepping into the room a little. “Rather late,” he sniffed, and looked up from his book, “it’ll be morning in a few hours.” He must’ve noticed her surprise, as he continued, “I’m sorry, I thought you could use the sleep—but you must be hungry, I can find something now if you don’t want to wait—” “I’m alright. I’m not hungry.” She could hear Uncle Hal’s voice in her mind, telling her to stop being an idiot and get some food into her. She decided to ignore it. “You’re still working? Can I help?” Therien moved closer to look over his shoulder: the book wasn’t pleasure reading like she’d thought at first, but some dense record of tariffs enacted along Lauthein’s borders. “It’s alright, thank you. I couldn’t sleep either way,” he admitted, smoothing out the shawl’s velvet trim. “I can’t either, at least give me something to do.” Therien started towards the bookshelf, hoping to find something that was a light enough read that she could understand it through her still-present fatigue. Fairalmin poetry…not a chance tonight. A record of Silorn’s noble houses…probably not that, either. At any other time she’d happily read either of them. Instead, she gave a frustrated huff and kept staring at the books like something different would appear. She looked away from the bookshelf. She wasn’t that much of a child, to need to go running to her papa after only a little bad dream— “Is everything well, sweetheart?” No. I couldn’t tell you why though. Isn’t that stupid? Why can’t I just be happy to be here and get over it? He set his book aside and opened his arms to her with a soft, worried sort of look, and her resolve and expression crumpled. The yellow shawl didn’t smell like her mama anymore. She shouldn’t have expected it to, with five years of apparently regular use, but… But she folded her legs under her and fit herself against her papa’s side. His hold on her was warm and careful and she found herself forcing back more tears and swallowing against the lump in her throat. He didn’t say anything for a while, just held her, and ran one hand lightly over her hair. “…Shall I talk to keep your mind off it,” he said finally, “or would you prefer silence?” I don’t even know how to answer that. She curled tighter around herself, taking a fistful of the yellow shawl in one hand. “What?” “Well,” her papa turned a little, adjusted himself to hold her more comfortably, “For myself, it’s best to find a distraction to keep my mind off a nightmare. I don’t mean to assume, but…”

context: therien's just gotten back home after spending five years away. she's having a harder time adjusting than she expected, and she kind of just...never really processed anything about her mother's death five years ago. also this was the scene i was so stuck on a few days ago...don't worry about my whole late night post about the deleted scene stuff i will not be elaborating <3

[acosmicdisappointment]

🧑‍🧑‍🧒, 💍 for enzo, 😍, 🐱 for ysla, & 💛, ✨ for mallory from here

💔, 🧪 for wesley & ❤️‍🩹, 🪄 for aivryn from here

ooc: this is lengthy so buckle up!

enzo.

[ 👪 ] what is your muse’s relationship with their parents like? was it always this way?

❝ Well... if it isn't obvious, my relationship with my father is pretty shitty. He's the reason why I am the way I am. As for my mama...I'd say we were pretty close. But I think we've drifted apart as I've grown up. I can't help but feel like I remind her of my dad, and I know their relationship wasn't the best. So maybe she sees him in me and that's made things difficult between us. ❞

[ 💍 ] does your muse have a “type” of people that they prefer to enter relationships with? is their type generally compatible with them, or does the dynamic tend to be toxic?

❝ Can't really say I have a 'type'. If I find you attractive, that's it. Some of my relationships have been great while others have been toxic...I'm not gonna elaborate further. I think everyone knows. ❞

ooc: enzo is drawn to people who show him attention and affection, that's his type.

ysla.

[ 😍 ] does your muse believe in true love? why or why not?

❝ I believe in true love, but perhaps not in the way fairytales depict it. To me, true love is a deep, meaningful connection based on mutual respect, understanding, and support. It's about finding someone who accepts you for who you are, flaws and all, and who you can truly be yourself with. It may not always be romantic, true love may also be platonic. True love is a journey of growth and discovery, where both partners are committed to each other's happiness and well-being. ❞

[ 🐱 ]  does your muse have pets? did they have pets as a child? how do they feel about animals?

❝ I've always had a love for animals, but I don't currently have any pets. But my niece, Dana has one. Her name is Mashy (short for mashed potato) and I absolutely adore her. Whenever I'm home, I take Mashy on walks by the beach. I've always felt a deep connection with animals and believe they have a lot to teach us about love, loyalty, and compassion. While I don't have any pets at the moment due to my lifestyle as a travel vlogger, I hope to have a furry friend again in the future...Maybe when I settle down and start a family. ❞

ooc: no notes, ysla slays

mallory.

[ 💛] how empathetic is your muse? how compassionate are they? is this something people expect from them, or are people surprised when they find out how compassionate or empathetic they actually are?

❝ People are sometimes shocked when they find out how compassionate and empathetic I actually am. I guess it's because I come off as closed off. I have feelings too. I'm not a cold-hearted bitch, despite what others might assume. I may not always show it in an obvious way, but I'm always there for the people I care about. My empathy and compassion are a big part of who I am, and while some may be surprised by this side of me, it's something I hold dear. ❞

[ ✨ ] answered here

ooc: oh yeah tell 'em mally

wesley.

💔 BROKEN  HEART  —  is there anyone in your life you wish you had a better relationship with? if so, how come? what makes this person important to you?

❝ If there is someone in my life I wish I had a better relationship with, that would be my parents. I wish they could've explained to me and my sister why they left. I've always felt a sense of longing and loss because of this, wishing things could have been different. They are after all the ones who are the reason why I am here... ❞

🧪 TEST  TUBE  —  if you knew you were going to die tomorrow, what is one thing you absolutely have to resolve and/or do before then?

❝ If I knew I was going to die tomorrow, the one thing I absolutely have to do is confess my feelings to someone I like. It's a moment of vulnerability and honesty that I don't want to miss out on. Life is too short for regrets, and I want to take that chance, to express how I feel and see where it leads. Even if the outcome isn't what I hope for, I know I'll find peace in knowing that I took that leap of faith and laid my heart on the line. ❞

ooc: hugs for my soft boy wes

aivryn.

🪄 MAGIC WAND answered here

❤️‍🩹 MENDING HEART — how strongly do you experience your emotions? does it depend on who you're interacting with and/or the context of the situation?

❝ I would say I experience my emotions quite strongly. I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve and can be deeply affected by the people and situations around me. It's almost like my emotions are amplified, and I feel things very deeply. The intensity of my emotions can depend on who I'm interacting with and the context of the situation. I would say my emotions are a big part of who I am and how I navigate the world around me. ❞

ooc: oh baby aivee we know

[iamlivingatmyownworld]

BEING VULNERABLE ONCE AGAIN

I invited her for a date scheduled after a week of our 5th monthstone through email. Throughout the week, I would not deny I have this pessimistic thought that we will not go through as my planned, [details are on the email], to give each other more space. But I missed her greatly. I need and wanted to see her.

Wednesday night. She told me there is much high possibility that she’ll not be allowed to go. She still needed time. I was right, I needed to calm myself. Minutes passed, she sent another message saying she also does not want to move further any longer. I did not know what to do. Suddenly, she suggested that we call. I felt mixed emotions- I wanted to have a call with her, I miss her so much but at the same time, I don’t want her to hear me cry, I’m already crying, much worse I’ll sob to her ears. I was scared of vulnerability. I don’t wanna burden her. Yet, I proceeded to agree. I miss her more than anything.

She called and I answered it. At the beginning, there are a lot of pauses and commercials. I just hear her talking and making fun of Marco; it made me smile and laugh, but also there was a sudden crack- I wished I can make her laugh once again. When our breathing are the only one left in the call, I cannot help but feel uncomfortable. I need to raise questions and topics. I also just want to know her whereabouts, connecting how I feel like I don’t know much of her for the past 8 days before that night. I still wanted her to know I’m here and listening. If the silent also continues, maybe I’ll just cry and cry, then sob. So I did... when she said we can just remain silent, we can just let our presence be known, she just want to hear me breathing. She wants to hear me breathing. In the days I don’t have energy to stay alive anymore. Tears just overflow.  I cannot help but to say, “What if I don’t want to breathe anymore?”. She could not hear it at first. I needed to repeat it. The second and third time of saying it makes the pain much more deeper. Why am I saying this in front of her? She’s doing her best to make me feel love; yet, all I could think of was dying. She wished for me to elaborate it. She apologized for not asking about me. I feel much more terrible of letting her say sorry. So then, I said that I cannot explain it further. She told me she understands. Then, so I sob and sob and sob. I thought I was hiding behind my voice so well. I was not, she could hear my call of redemptions. So she asked again, “Are you okay?” long silent “Why are you crying like that”. God she heard me. What am I supposed to do? So I tried. I tried to explain my thoughts, where I am coming from. Once again, she understands. I don’t deserve her. I have given her another burden of my dark thoughts. “You are my girlfriend, LJ” Ohhh. “You do not bothers me” I love her so much. 

Then, we talked. She tried to assure me. Still, it pains me and I feel so terrible how she needed to even make me calm when I could have done that on my own. I wished I can figured it out on my own. Yet, she let me breathe. She reminded me of being alive. She told me how much she loves me while she’s crying. I do not remember much of what she said, I was just reminded how she loves me, and that feels like what matters.

Right after all the crying. We need to say good byes. So as we thought. After many attempts of sending our regards in ending the call, we opened a topic of how different our generation thinks, what was the reason behind it? how are we affected? how does it reflects in our life? It was an exciting conversation full of ideas and thoughts, even though it was short and brief.

The, she decided we can actually meet up for the weekend. Spend time together. She open up about staycation. I told her maybe next time because of time constrain. Yet...

ps. we tried to call before the official call that night. 1st. after I woke up in sleeping in the afternoon. I said hi, dumating si mama, and she ended the call. Apparently, the microphone still had not permission to use in telegram after I installed it once again. So she thought I was not talking. 2nd. when Marco wants to call me for his stickers. 3rd. Marco did not rely his message properly at gustong asarin ate nya. She wouldn’t let me see her face and barley talk with the 2nd and 3rd one.

[demonsfate]

How can Harada say that about Jin and then refer to Jun as Kazuya's "wife"? Like, WHEN did they get married? he just says the most random stuff and then retcons the same shit out of the blue. He's not consistent. Honestly I just take everything that comes out of his mouth with a grain of salt.

I DON'T want to be the shill to Defend Harada. But did he refer to her as "wife" in English? Because English isn't Harada's native language, and I don't really know how much of it he speaks. So, he often says one thing when he means another. Such as... I recalled ppl further supported the theory that Jun's not the "real Jun" in the T8 trailer because he referred to her as "it" instead of "she" in a tweet. But he's also said Kazuya misunderstood Kirby as a Pokémon, rather than the more natural - mistaken Kirby for a Pokémon. So, it's possible when Harada said "wife," he means love interest / lover and accidentally used the wrong word, or was even using a translator. It seems common for him to use the wrong English word.

BUT - if he said she was Kazuya's wife in Japanese - then I dunno what he's on about. Especially considering Kazuya and Jun's relationship, despite having been a 25-year thing, is still ambiguous. We STILL don't know how they really felt about each other, or how Jin even came to be. Which as excited as I am to see Mama and Son reunited - I really hope T8 further elaborates on Kazuya and Jun's relationship, and show more of them as well. Because right now - we have no clue why they'd even like each other so much. Especially given that Kazuya seems to feel... absolutely nothing toward Jin - which if he loved Jun, you think he'd feel something. Regardless if it's more hatred because he felt Jin is the reason Jun is dead, or some attachment because Jin is what's left of Jun.

HOWEVER. Harada & Namco in general are KNOWN to say something when they think it'll either appease the fans, or get fans talking. Just how in Tekken 6 they claimed they ALWAYS intended on making Jin a VILLAIN since the very beginning. But then in a recent IGN interview right after the first trailer dropped, Harada said, "fans were angry when we made Jin an ALMOST villain" - which no matter how you look at that, Harada was definitely claiming they didn't make Jin an "actual" villain in T6 / the general series (lmao sure, jan) And right before the Netflix series dropped, Harada CLAIMED we'd be seeing new things about Jin's backstory that we never knew before. Except... we didn't. Bloodline literally told us everything we already knew. Except for very small, trivial facts such as Jin studied English and he was bullied lmao.