#so the first one is a more japanese inspired summer kimono outfit with american styling

[crafting-mojo]

B to the D to the Double O its Bdubs!

[nitholites]

Daminette Soulmate AU

Inspired by this post by @thepeacetea. Thank you for making an AU with so much Badass!Marinette possibilities. We. Stan. Epic. Marinette. I took a few creative liberties by changing how soulmates work a little bit, I hope no one minds too much. If people want more of this, I'll see what I can do. But, if this inspires anyone to write or add onto this- I personally highly encourage it! Seeing the works of art people can make from one thing are always inspiring to me. I'd love to see what, if anything, comes from this.

That's enough from me- time for the fic!

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Marinette sighed, letting her mind wander back. She remembered knowing several languages before she hit double digits, her body reacting to surprise by calming her mind, spinning around, assessing the situation, and figuring the easiest way to... disable whomever startled her. It took a surprising amount of self control to act like a normal kid, which made her wonder.

Who the heck was her soulmate?

She had to have one- not because she wanted one but because of all the skills she couldn't explain having any other way. She remembered asking her parents about soulmates, and getting a few answers. Soulmates weren't common- actually being extremely rare. The bond was usually the same, though. A kind of skill share.

The more your soulmate used a skill or integrated it into their life, the more normal the skill felt to you, becoming habit over time. Which is why Marinette always knew the exits, shadows, hidden corners, number of people in a room with her, direction, and how to... disable anyone at any given time.

Her footsteps were always silent, and she kept to the shadows of the room by habit. Several times, she accidentally sneaked up on her parents or friends when she thought she wasn't being sneaky at all. She was surprisingly talented at gymnastics, and the sport was relaxing to her, so she continued it all through school.

When she became Ladybug, she could only make a mental note to thank her soulmate profusely for knowing so many self-defense styles and aggressive fighting.

At first, Chat had a major crush on her, but after showing him he wasn't her soulmate (by yelling at him in every language she knew [which were about 5 he didn't]), he had to accept the facts.

Life went on, and soon Lila was brought into the picture. Adrien didn't help, and the class soon left Marinette behind, bullying her and excluding her. But still, Marinette continued to do the best she could as the class representative.

Two years after she became Ladybug, Marinette won her class a trip to Gotham to tour the city and learn more about the American school system. They'd stay for the remainder of the school year (about two months) and would have the chance to intern under several high-class businesses, industries, and names. Rumor had it that whoever earned the right to would work with the Waynes during the summer for their internship, a huge boost to the lucky winner's resume.

Marinette organised everything for the trip- the hotel, activities, tours, school, etc- nearly without help (if you counted Tikki and Luka- two of Marinette's last friends and people who didn't even go to her school!).

The plane ride to Gotham wasn't very interesting. Marinette sat in the back alone while Lila and her lackeys gossipped and lied (both knowingly and unknowingly) about this and that. Every so often, Marinette would hear something about a Dimitri Wayne?

She inwardly scoffed, wondering if Lila meant the only blood Wayne child. Marinette had done quite a bit of research into Gotham, it's heroes vigilantes, villains, and important figures. 99% of Lila's claims about the Waynes could be disproven by a simple Google search, yet...

Marinette sighed, watching the sheep flock to the wolf.

There's nothing I can do for those who swallow such obvious lies.

They reached Gotham around 9pm, going straight to the hotel and getting their rooms. Marinette, predictably, was alone. She was thankful for that, though, because then she could leave and go Ladybug-ing whenever she felt she needed to.

Of course, Marinette knew the rough locations of everything she'd visit, but... it would be handy, seeing Gotham from the air and in person.

"What do you think, Tikki? Should Ladybug say hello to Gotham?"

"Not Ladybug, per-say. What if Hawkmoth figured out we weren't in Paris?"

Marinette nodded at the flying Kwami, hovering right in front of her face. "A change in identities, then. Think you can whip up something I'd like?"

Tikki nodded with a smile, thinking for a moment before shooting her Chosen a thumbs up. "Tikki, spots on!"

Before she left, she took a look at herself in the mirror, smiling at the new outfit.

Her hair, once midnight black/blue, was red with black stripes, gathered up into a bun at the top of her head with a black ribbon tying it together and the ends sticking up to form antenna-like things. Her bangs, once swept to the side now framed her face, the left side red and the right black. The ends brushed her chin, but never seemed to get in her way. Her mask was black like the rest of her outfit, red decal swirling intricately across the fabric. Red accents outlined where her gloves, boots, and sleeves were against a black background. Instead of the skin tight onesie, her outfit was split into four parts- the top, bottoms, gloves, and boots. Her top took a different style, looking more like a Chinese or Japanese kimono top, the bell sleeves covering her palms and loose. Red swirled around the top in descrete roses, red lining the hems. Her gloves were red, black roses stitched into the fabric on the back. Her pants were black and only reached her mid-calf, red roses stitched near the cutoff. Her ankle boots were plain black, the three-inch heel not inhibiting her in any way shape or form (thankfully) and her yo-yo was still strapped to her hip, but harder to see. On her back was a staff like Chat Noir's, but black and with spots indicating the button.

She tapped her chin, humming in thought. "I suppose I'll need a new name for Gotham." She shrugged, deciding to think about it later. She easily opened the window and hopped out, getting used to using the staff almost immediately as she vaulted over the roofs near the hotel, quickly gaining distance.

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Nightwing frowned, eyes tracking the strange red and black figure who was easily taking down thugs twice their size. Seems like a new vigilante's in town, he thought, bringing a hand up to his comm. "Has anyone seen a new vigilante around?"

"No one's reported anything, why?"

He slid farther back into the shadows of the ally way he was crouched in, watching as the- what he could now tell- woman glanced around the small area. "I may have found one. See if you can find anything on her, Oracle. We'd better figure out if she's friend or foe before jumping in."

"Copy that. For now, track her."

"Way ahead of you," he said, silently jumping after her when she used some kind of baton to leap over the closest building.

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Marinette paused, stopping on the roof. Her tail seemed more interested in finding out who she was than kidnapping or attacking her, as they would have done so an hour ago when she let them close. She knew she couldn't allow that- no matter who was tailing her. She pulled her yo-yo off her hip, keeping her tail carefully behind her even as they slowly and stealthy approached. They sounded male, if the heavier steps meant anything.

With practiced ease, she opened the weapon, reaching into the glowing pink and pulling out the Fox Miraculous. She had long since started putting the Box of Miracles in her yo-yo when she transformed, careful to keep the Miraculi out of Hawkmoth's hands. She slipped the necklace on, nodding once at Trixx. She held out her hands as she said, "Trixx, Tikki, unify."

Orange replaced the red in her costume, an orange glow surrounding her for a second. No more red was found on the heroine, the dark color replaced by a dark orange and the staff replaced with a flute on her back. She turned on her heel towards her tail, a carefully blank look on her face. "Come out," she demanded, suppressing her surprise when Nightwing appeared.

Neither spoke for a moment, eyeing each other and mentally figuring each other's strengths and weaknesses. "Why were you following me," she asked, keeping her spine straight.

"The better question is, why are you here? Gotham has more than enough protectors."

"I won't be here for long. The League has made it's decision loud and clear, and I won't 'waste your time with pranks'," she angrly spit out, heavy quotations in her sentence. She watched as mild confusion spread on the bird's face, but felt only a slight ping of regret, her emotions having watered down and muted over the years of fighting Hawkmoth. Ladybug couldn't be compromised, after all.

"What are you talking about?"

"Ask those receiving requests for help about a French heroine named Ladybug," she said, pulling the flute off her back. She played an ancient tune that flew into her fingers, removed the instrument from her lips, and fired the glowing orange ball towards the ground, shouting, "Mirage," as she did so. Orange smoke filled the area, a million masked heroines going in all directions and tricking the sensors in Nightwing's mask as she went back to her room, only staying awake long enough to feed the Kwamis and fall into her bed.

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Red Robin frowned as he and Oracle looked through the footage from earlier, replaying it over and over. "Magic?"

"Has to be," he said, his brows furrowing as he scanned the footage once more. "There's no holographic projectors, and she didn't seem to know about the hidden cameras on him."

Oracle hummed, fingers flying away. "Any luck finding sources for the so-called heroine in France?"

Tim had been looking ever since the girl mentioned heroes in the country, only finding the Ladyblog. He didn't count it as credible, what with the obvious CGI. "No. Just a fake source," he said, sighing. "Maybe we should look through the League records. See if we can find anything."

"Way ahead of you," Barbara said, hitting the final key decisivly. "Four clips, one response."

"Play them."

A girl in a red and black spotted mask looked into the camera, the Eiffel Tower in the background. In accented English, she spoke. "Hello. My name is Ladybug, and I'm a new hero for Paris. My city is being terrorized by a villain who preys on any powerful, negative emotions he can find using the power of the Butterfly. I haven't been a hero long- today marks the full week. But I know we need help. My partner and I don't know what we're doing yet, and I can only drag us through battles so often until we run out of steam." Her blue eyes softened, hope and uncertainty in them.

"Please. If you get this- send help. Preferably someone with detective abilities and a good handle on their emotions so we can find Hawkmoth faster. I don't want to think of what damage Paris would go under if we had to fight an Akumatized member of the League..." She sighed, giving the camera a hopeful smile. "Bug out."

The next was in the middle of the day, giant bubbles floating in the air. The camera zoomed in on one, seeing adults trapped. The angle shifted to the streets, where kids were running rampant without supervision. "I don't know if I can fix the damage they'll do," the same voice called from out of the shot. "My Cure only works with very specific damages- and I don't think this counts. Please- the longer this goes on, the more powerful Hawkmoth becomes." Her voice held so much hope, it was nearly painful. "Ladybug out."

The next was again in the middle of the day, but this time, the streets were flooded. Only a few hundred people could be seen safe on roofs, and Ladybug did a full sweep of the city on camera before landing beside a blond hero in a black cat costume. "Syren is the most deadly Akuma we've seen so far," the heroine- Ladybug- said somberly. "I don't know what this will do to my people's mental health. It's already been months since Hawkmoth started his reign, but the changes may be permanent. Even a week after he started, I could see the changes in my people. They're more... empty. Like shells of the people they once were, scared to feel anything for the threat of Hawkmoth and harming their loved ones. I only pray my power continues to erase the memories of all those who become Akumatized, dead, or under the victim's control. My people are traumatized enough already. If anyone sees this, please.... send help."

The final clip showed a furious Ladybug staring into the camera, fires raging behind her. "It's been over a year since I first asked for your help. After so long, I thought I had accepted that no help was coming. But understand- you're leaving the fate of the world in a few teenagers hands! We can't keep going on like this- we'll burn out and Hawkmoth will win! Look at what Hawkmoth caused this time!" She turned the camera slowly, gathering the flaming city of love on screen. Craters filled the streets, no building over a story was intact. Bodies littered the streets- some charred and some bleeding. The Eiffel Tower was in pieces, crushing more people. Flames wracked the once-beautiful city, ash blocking the sun. "He will only get stronger, as will the Akuma he creates. But we won't without guidance and training! And no one on Team Miraculous has any kind of detective training- we aren't getting any closer to the source of the problem! And if Hawkmoth defeats both Chat Noir and I, the entire world may be doomed, depending on his wish." The camera was set down, Ladybug walking in front of it with a spotted object- something looking like a frying pan- in her hand. She threw it up, shouting "Miraculous Ladybug," as she did so. Millions of pink dots swarmed the city, fixing all damages and bringing people back to life wherever they touched. She swung down to a boy with black hair tipped blue, camera on his face, yet it was blurred to protect his identity. "Sir, tell me about this attack. I'm sorry to bring it up so soon, but the League cannot ignore an innocent's cry for help."

When he spoke, his voice went through a some kind of modifier. "Okay, Ladybug... Well, my sister and I were walking home from school. We had band practice later today- I guess that's cancelled. Anyway, we were minding our own business when Inferna came. I tried protecting my sister, but..." He took a deep breath. "She was too fast. My sister burned alive right in front of me, and I couldn't do anything."

"I'm sorry," Ladybug said, a hand coming to lay on the boy's shoulder. "I'm sorry we didn't stop her in time. That you had to see this. That you have to remember. If I could wipe that memory from you, I would, but..." A heavy sigh came from behind the camera. "Thank you for sharing." The process repeated with a couple more people- some young some old, and some who died during the experience. All were traumatized from this Akuma, and previous, yet they had hope. At the end, Ladybug turned the camera on herself, face stern. "I know this may not seem possible to you. I know this may look like editing, and that this may be a waste of time. But if you think that, spend a weekend in Paris. See for yourself what we've become. Ladybug out."

The only thing left was a letter from the League. It amounted to, "Don't send in prank calls anymore. You're taking away from those who need it."

Tim and Barbara were furious. But this issue needed care.

It was time to call the Batman.

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Bruce's brows drew closer and closer as the clips played, his anger obvious when the letter was shown. But, unsurprisingly, his reaction was the most subdued of those in the room.

Anger freely rolled off of Jason, Dick, Barbara, Damian, and even Alfred. Tim had already started to get his feelings under control as his fingers flew across the keyboard, his face reflecting his concentration. "I don't recognize the signature on the letter," Bruce stated. Which was strange, because he kept tabs on everyone who worked for the League. Just in case.

"You're not the only one," Tim said, keeping his eyes on the screen in front of him. "I can't find this guy anywhere. I'm starting to think he doesn't exist, but..."

"That would mean the League has someone who's either working with Hawkmoth- who seems to be the one attacking Paris- or someone who doesn't want the situation to be known," Dick said, crossing his arms. "Neither situation is good."

"So what can we do about it?" All eyes turned to Damian until he explained. "She said Hawkmoth was using the people's emotions against them. Members of the League aren't exactly the most emotionally strong, and a lot of them use negative emotions to strengthen themselves in battle."

"You're uncharacteristically angry about this," Bruce observed, watching as his youngest didn't react to his statement outside of raising an eyebrow. This wasn't the first time Damian reacted differently than expected. Bursts of outrage or annoyance at specific groups of people, almost muted emotions, nearly inhumane emotional recovery. At first, Bruce hoped the Wayne was simply getting a better control on his emotions, but after a while of observing... He realized that wasn't the case. "What's going on, Damian?"

The teen hesitated, the expression he usually made when he scolded himself appearing on his face. "What's your view on soulmates?"

Bruce blinked, having categorized that specific response as less than likely. "I think if you have one, you should be able to decide to seek them out or not. To have the option of creating a life with them if you so chose. Damian, is your soulmate in trouble?"

"My first language, as you know, is Arabic. But my second is French- if you can call it a second. The language simply appeared in my head the same time I was learning Arabic as a baby, according to my caretakers. I'd switch between the two without thought as a child," Damian explained. "While I was learning other languages, the same thing happened to Mandarin. When I had a pastry for the first time after I moved in with you, I could instantly tell what ingredients the chef used, how much, and what adding more or less of certain ingredient would do to the final product. With all this, I've deduced my soulmate is a French-Chinese baker," Damian revealed. "Now, with this information about Paris..."

"You think your soulmate is in danger," Dick accurately guessed. "Damn, that must be infuriating."

"How many times have they died when help from the League could have saved them," Damian wondered. "How many times have we let them down?"

"You have to remember, Baby Bird- your soulmate gets your skills, too," Tim called, still clacking away. "Whoever they are, they'd put up one hell of a fight if anyone tried attacking."

"I'm aware, Drake. But that doesn't mean they're invincible to drowning and getting crushed."

"Why do you think they're in Paris, specifically," Dick asked.

"It takes effort to feel negative emotions now," the youngest Wayne said. "All of you know I don't have the longest temper. But when I'm not thinking about it, my negative emotions just... dissapere. All of them."

"If what Ladybug said was true, and their terrorist uses emotions to take control of the person, that's likely what the people have taken to to avoid being controlled," Dick hummed, frowns appearing on everyone's faces.

"For now, let's inform the rest of the League," Bruce decided, walking to the computer. "Let's see if anyone has an idea of what's going on."

Alfred, meanwhile, frowned. If the Ladybug is in play... the world is at stake.

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Marinette never had good luck in her day to day life. She guessed all her good luck was spent as Ladybug, and she needed a luck balance or something. Which is how she chose the one outlet in the entire hotel that didn't work. Her phone died during the night, so she woke up late, the clock on the bedstand reading 8:17 am. The bus was set to leave at 8, but she wouldn't be surprised if Lila had convinced them to leave earlier. It was only thanks to the Kwamis that she got up that early, but she still missed the bus. She scrambled to get ready, sprinting out of the hotel after five minutes. She found a nearby allyway, ducking into it and letting Tikki fly out of her jacket. "We gotta hurry. Tikki, spots on!"

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Damian scowled, pinching the bridge of his nose as the group in front of him scrambled to find their missing student. "Didn't you call roll," he asked in French, being the translator and main guide for Wayne Enterprises.

"Well, yes, but... I swear Marinette was with us!"

He was starting not to like the teacher too much. Or the gaggle of girls gossiping about how the missing student just wanted attention. "You realize Gotham has the highest crime rates in the US, correct?" At the teacher's shaky nod, he continued, his scowl deepening. "Then why on Earth would you allow one of your students to go missing?!"

He was about to rant more when the doors slid open, a girl with pigtails running through and out of breath. "I'm here," she gasped, her hands resting on her knees.

"Marinette! There you are."

The bluest eyes Damian had ever seen (a high honer considering his father and Grayson) looked up, holding regret. "Sorry, Madame. My phone died, so the alarm didn't go off. It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't. We're going to have to hurry through this to stay on schedule."

"Now hold on," Damian growled, steeping between the teacher and her students. "You were just saying that she was in the bus this morning. Now you're saying it's her fault you didn't check the bus properly before leaving?"

The woman paled as surprise grew in the girl's eyes. "It's alright now," she said, standing and catching her breath. "I'm here and safe, and we're already behind. Let's just leave this in the past and go on with the tour."

"You don't seem to understand the danger you could have been in, miss...?"

"Marinette."

"Marinette. Any one of Gotham's rouges could have picked you up, or a common thief or mugger could have cornered you. Especially if you were alone."

"I'm aware," she calmly responded. "That would have been their mistake. There's a reason few Akuma come after me anymore."

"Oh, yeah," a dark boy with a red cap said. "I keep forgetting your crazy soulmate, dudette."

"Soulmate," the dark girl with glasses asked, looking to the boy in confusion. "Marinette doesn't have a soulmate. She would have told me."

Marinette sighed through her nose, seemingly gathering herself. "Alya, I don't like talking about my soulmate. I don't know what they're comfortable sharing about their skills, so I try not to talk about it."

Damian's respect for the small girl shot through the roof. "Yeah, but the dudette was awesome against playground bullies," the boy said, gathering attention. "Kim, you remember?" A tall boy nodded, a grin on his face.

"It was really cool to watch this tiny little girl in pigtails completely destroy them," he commented. "Dunno how she did it to this day, but there were always two things Marinette's never stood for. Liars and bullies."

"Then how come she is one," the glasses girl from earlier asked, her brows furrowing. "Something doesn't add up."

"Maybe she changed," a girl with sasauge hair said. "People do that."

All of a sudden, the atmosphere changed, interest becoming hostility. "Guys, let's just do this," Marinette said, looking tired. She grabbed the extra pass in the tub and plopped it around her neck.

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Lunch couldn't come soon enough for Marinette and Damian. The former because she forgot to grab breakfast, and the latter so he could talk to his family about Marinette's treatment within the class. He heard everything said about her during the tour, and his anger at the class only grew. Usually, he wouldn't care and just be annoyed at the gossip, but even he could see how kind she was. Several times, she interacted with the staff the others ignored, seeing if she could help them carry something or open doors or pick up something they dropped. She was fluent in English, too, and more often than not whatever language the employee spoke first. Which was odd, since WE prided itself on its diverse hiring and multicultural assistance, meaning most people wouldn't be able to converse in so many languages.

She spoke in well over 10 languages- all ones Damian was fluent in, as well.

What a coincidence.

Word about the French angel spread fast through the building, as Damian heard whispers following his steps. At one point, a group of employees came up to him to ask about the French girl, wondering if the rumors were true.

Most of them were, but he was on a mission so he didn't spend much (if any) time dealing with the people. When he found an empty meeting room without anything booked for the next hour, he called one of the best people he knew to get to the bottom of this, as much as he hated admitting it.

"Hello?"

"Drake. I need a favor."

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Lunch went by without major incident- besides Lila claiming a 'Dimitri Wayne' was her soulmate and childhood friend.

Marinette inwardly scoffed, knowing that Damian had been living with his mother until he turned double digits, and that he spent a year or two getting used to Gotham before ever announcing his existence to the world. Even then, no one is even completely sure what he looks like, let alone his friends, and those who actually knew him would be sworn to secrecy by the Waynes. Again, though, she realized how little power she had to change her classmates' views on the Italian and her tall tales. Marinette's instincts told her of someone approaching from behind, and she whirled around on her heel without much thought, pausing as she saw the tour guide walking up to the group. "Okay, lunch's over! Let's get this show on the road, hm?"

Her class quickly gathered around the tall man, ready to continue the tour. Marinette, like usual, was in the back of the group, sketchbook out and pencil flying across the page.

"You're very skilled at drawing."

She didn't jump or whirl around, having heard the approaching footsteps and slight muttering a while ago. "Thank you, but I still have a long way to go." She quickly wrapped up the rough sketch, then closed the book, sending a bright smile at the boy. "And thank you for speaking in my defence this morning."

"Think nothing of it." The teen waved his hand dissmissively, eyes trailing back to the front for a moment.

"Still. My name's Marinette, by the way. Marinette Dupen-Cheng."

"Damian," he said, nodding. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise!" She smiled once again, her shoulders a little more lifted than what they were before. "So, how long have you worked at WE?"

They talked amongst themselves for the remainder of the tour, Damian pointing out and explaining more than the guide for most of the tour. And when there wasn't anything educational to talk about, they spoke a little of themselves, getting to know the person beside them a little better. Damian also asked more about the situation in Paris, earning a sad look from the girl beside him and quite a bit of new information. All too soon, though, the tour ended. Over the course of their conversations, Damian learned that that morning wasn't the first time Marinette had been left behind, and quickly deduced that it wouldn't be the last with the children called her classmates. So, when the time to part came, he offered an alternative course of action.

"Gotham can be a beautiful city. Why don't I show you a few inspiring scenic places?" Marinette blinked at the teen, but smiled.

"Let me ask Madame real quick- I'm sure she won't mind too much."