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#if shes also in honors ill cry

dcxdpdabbles · 9 months

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Phantom's number 1 Fan. Part 2

Tim wakes a few days later, half submerged in liquid and hooked to various machines. He is in a tub shaped like a bed, obviously meant to sleep in. Around him is what he hopes is a hospital room with medical tools scattered about and soft blue paint that turns to the night sky the higher it goes on the wall.

On the ceiling are paintings of various constellations. It's rather beautiful.

Tim also notices he feels no pain. None. Not even the aches of his bones after years of abuse while fighting crime. He thinks that's a bit strange since the last thing he could clearly remember was barely escaping Ra's al Ghul, losing his spleen, and gaining more wounds from angry assassins on his way out.

He had been flying half-blind, blinking in and out of awareness. He thinks at one point, Cassie had attempted to call him, and he may have answered, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember what he told her.

He did remember what she said in response. She sounded so desperate as she begged over the S-Batplane speakers. "Please, Tim, you're not well. Let us help you. Just tell me where you are."

Too bad for her, since the S in S-Batplane stand for Secert because Tim had built that one on his own in Secert. There was no way she or any of the hero community could track him in it since they had no idea it existed until Tim had taken it and his supplies on his solo mission to save Bruce.

Tim will admit that he is happy they noticed he went missing- even if it was three months too late. Not that it mattered much. The rest of the Bats wanted nothing to do with him. The world only saw him as a young easy wallet as a shiny new CEO. And his friends were all dead or convinced he was insane by Dick.

Tim didn't have anyone to notice he was gone anymore. But Bruce needed him to push through the ache and get him home.

As the Robin who Bruce trained to put the mission first no matter the cost, the one that came after Jason's death so, Bruce stopped allowing himself to think of Robin as a son and more along the lines of a soldier; he quickly shut down the crying child that wailed for someone to believe him, to support him.

Sometimes it felt like Tim was still waiting by the door of Drake Manor, waiting for someone to come and care for him, to stay for him.

The door to his room opens, snapping Tim back to the present. He automatically stiffens, expecting more of the League of Assassins. He can't remember much, but he guessed he was captured by the fact he was sitting in a green glowing water.

He was not, however, expecting a Yeti to walk in, reading a clipboard.

The Yeti looks up, bearing its teeth at Tim when he notices him awake. It takes a moment to realize the action is supposed to be a smile. "Great One's Honored Guest, I am so glad you have awakened. I am FrostBite, your doctor for the remainder of your recovery."

Okay. Ra's has Yetis at his disposal.

He was the only person that Tim knew as the "Great One." Usually, his most loyal operatives too, which means he was deep within Ra's territory.

FrostBrite pauses for a response, but when Tim remains silent, he holds up his board. "It seems to me that most of your wounds have healed. The only problem is that your spleen could not be salvaged due to the damage."

Tim fights to keep the despair off his face. He figured that was the case, seeing as Ras's had it in a jar, but he had hoped.

"...I understand this may be a difficult adjustment. You will always have to be careful when being ill. Even a simple cold could be disastrous." Frostbite steps close, taping one giant claw on the tub's edge. "The Great One has ordered we keep consistent Ecoplasm Baths at the ready for the remainder of your natural life."

Fuck. The Yeti is saying Ra will never let him leave again. It's a threat disguised as a offer of help.

Tim glares down at his hands. They lay within Lazarus' water, gently healing his small scars. This must be some of the purest Lazarus he's ever seen. It must be Ra's own special blend.

The only reason he is wasting it on Tim is that Ra's wants an heir from him. Or for him to become the Heir. He doesn't know, which makes him feel worse but he does know what lust looks like.

It's one that Ra's has aimed at him for too long.

He may as well get this over with. Learn as much as he can. Plan an escape. The best way to do all that is to simply ask.

"When is the wedding?"

Frostbite freezes. "I beg your pardon? Whos wedding?"

"Th Great One and mine" because the madman would never allow a bastard to inherit his empire.

"You and the Great One....are paramours?" Frostbite sounds awe. Shoot his medic doesn't know anything. The Yeti is likely low ranking.

Tim looks away, and the giant white creature jerks into action. "I apologize for not treating the Great One's beloved properly. I shall have servants bring up a meal while you soak. And the finest robe we have! Sweets and messages....offers of gold?....humans always like gold."

He waits until the Yeti leaves, mumbles of giving him the royal treatment echoing in his wake. Tim sighs, sinking into the water. He knows he is being watched as that's what he would do, so for now he needs to stay put and heal.

He's never going to get Bruce back if he acts too rashly without knowing where he is and what else Ra has under his control. Yetis were no easy feat to beat on his own. He like to avoid....a vampire or something too.

Half an hour later, FrostBite returns with the promised meal and change of clothes. Smaller Yetis help him dress in threads of the finest silks. They feel like heaven on his sensitive skin. Tim feels soft and warm all over, pampered beyond belief.

It's been so long since he just had a moment to rest.

He asks for a walk which he is only permitted after Frostbites clears him. It's while he is wandering that he realizes he is in some winter castle. Everywhere he looks, there is ice, snow, and yetis.

He notices all the guards and makes mental maps of possible weak spots. He wonders why he's not freezing despite only being in a thin silk robe. A form of magic?

A few yetis- servants he can tell by their mannerisms- bow as he wanders about. He can't tell where he is based on the sun or the environment. It's....somehow different.

"That's him?" A young female voice asks. He turns his head slightly to catch the speaker in his provisional vision. It's one of the smaller Yetis....he assumes she's a child? Hard to tell when she still towers over him. "The Great One's future spouse?"

"Yes, I heard King Frostbite, himself, tell the Head Butler"

"He's weak," another Yeti says with disapproval. He sounds male but young as well. Not even a teenager. "He does not even have a core."

"He is a human." A much older voice replies. She sounds like Tim's age based on vocal cords. "Humans are not meant to have cores. Despite this he is a formidable fighter. He has to be to have attracted the Great One's eye."

"Maybe not. I heard humans enjoy being cared for like children. They even call partners things like Mommy and Daddy."

"Why?" The boy Yeti sounds horrified.

"Apparently it's seen as attractive"

"That's disgusting."

Tim turns a corner cutting off the conversation as the Yetis snap to attention. They bow low at the waist as he walks by.

He nods at them, which seems to startle a lot of them. Not that he's surprised. The AL Ghuls likely treated them like decorations and never fully acknowledged them.

Tim barely hears the young boy gasp. "He's beautiful."

"That's likely why the Great One is so bestowed."

Tim sighs walking back to his room with a escape plan half formed.

Elsewhere, the rumor mill in the Ghost Zone is running over time as news of King Phantom's human husband-to-be is spread far and wide. Leaders of the Ghost Zone quickly prepare for a ball that will likely be called to celebrate the union.

They have gifts gathered, each wanting to gain favor with the King. The Far Frozen gets overwhelming requests to visit the future Consort, but seeing as King Phantom had to return to the human world, thus leaving his fiancé in their care, they reject all. They do not want the boy to be overwhelmed or caught unawares if he is not tried in any form of politics.

It would not allow him to become a threat to the King's authority's pawn.

This led to even more rumors starting.

By the time they reached John Constine- the only human who has any form of contact with the Realms- the word is that King Phantom's human was currently carrying their child, wanting to marry before the baby was born, and that he was running from a group of humans known as "The Bats."

He was as beautiful as the King Phantom was powerful- which meant he was utterly breathtaking for a human- and that King Phantom was currently in the human world hunting down those who threaten his family.

Across the dimension plane, Danny is blissfully unaware of the misunderstanding as he is busy filling out college scholarship applications. He has only one more year before he graduates, but he would like to go somewhere away from Amity Park.

The Wayne Scholarship is a long and lengthy process, but it will be worth it. A full ride with board and meals? Yes, the housing will be in Gotham but it's a small price to pay.

He wonders if his number one fan has awakened. Frostbite would have contacted him if his guest had escaped the coma.

Tim Drake had been asleep for nearly a week, only kept healthy due to Danny bathing him in his Protective Core ectoplasm and the Yeti's multi-species medical knowledge. As it were, Tim appeared to only be taking a small nap, none of the adverse effects of long slumber appearing on his thin body, but Danny was getting worried.

At this point, he didn't even care how Tim knew his secret. He just wanted him to be alright.

A flash of green light causes Danny to spring away from his laptop, body falling into a natural fighter's stance only to blink at the giant gift wrap present laying on his bed. Cautiously he inspects the gift finding it from Princess Dora.

"May your love lead the Realms into a wonderous future, and may your union bear many children." He reads the small note she had attracted to her gift "What children?"

Pulling open the gift, he stares at two sets of King robes decorated with rubies shaped into snowflakes. More miniature robes and a few booties surround the pair, obviously meant as a family gift.

Tuck to the side of the box is a long and deadly-looking sword. It's pitch black, with a scull as a handle. Dora had tired a scroll to its blade, where she had written My armies are ready to yield to you. You need only to swing this sword, and they shall come to your aid. The Bats will not harm your treasure.

What in the world?

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Phantom's number 1 fan #Tim unleased a love story onto the beings of enterity #Danny is super confused #Somewhere John is freaking out about a possible war #Tim does not remember stopping at Danny's

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luvtak · 18 days

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corona borealis, lfx

✧ genre/tw rambly soul-crushing fluff, one sweet kiss!!, lovely as a pet-name, felix being an undeniably sweet bf like always and hearing a bedtime story <3 , largely unedited.

✧ w/c 952 <3

✧ a/n definitely not brought on by asea felix are you kidding... he's so lovely i just had to dawdle on about it somewhere so here you go! also, the thought of telling lix a bedtime story makes me wanna cry i hope i'm not alone. mwah!!

His arm is hot around you, keeping you safe from the scary silhouettes the shadows bring, and the night is breathing. A group of you had come to this little campground for a night away from the city lights, and while the two of you are alone you can still hear the rest of the boy’s nighttime sounds mixing in with crickets and critters.

Your boyfriend stands beside you, listening intently as you tell him stories of the stars. Usually, these tales come from the comfort of your bed–rustling under covers and speaking into his mouth, sharing breath and love until you fall asleep, tracing false shapes in the plastic stars adorning your ceiling. But tonight, under the cover of a too cold darkness you tell him his bedtime stories beneath the sky.

His face is tilted up, looking to see where your fingers are pointing, and the soft glint in his midnight eyes makes you pause. You’ve never known someone who looked so alive, someone with a sun for a soul. Felix has the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, alight with joy and senseless mischief–eyes wide with wonder at the constellations rising above him.

Looking at him is dizzying; that feeling when you put your arms out and spin so fast you fall, a carousel going so round and round. You feel like flying, rising up like the moment Icarus’ wings took him up and away.

Sometimes you wonder if it’s normal to feel like this… if everyone in love feels as though they are the creator, the inventor of such depraved desire and compassion for another. Surely, you must be the first–no one else had felt Felix’s fingertips on their skin or his lips sweetly drinking them in. How could someone say they’ve encountered a deeper love than this when your sweetheart is the embodiment of love, Venus as a boy.

He turns to you in your moment of hesitation, smiling at you with all the care in the world. He loves you endlessly, burns for you and the soft caress of your affection. You can tell he doesn’t know why you stopped speaking, but he’s happy just the same–sharing your space and time, living in this moment with you. He remembers the first time you told him a story, speaking the words softly, he thinks he fell in love right there.

“What’s that one?” he asks, catching your still raised hand in his own.

“Oh, it's a crown, see?” you can see his eyes tracing the points, finding the shape that connects the points together. “It’s Ariadne’s wedding tiara, she was a princess of Crete who helped Theseus slay her brother the Minotaur Asterion. After they escaped the labyrinth, the prince left her on the Island of Naxos where she was found by Dionysus,”

“He left her there?!” he gasps, your sweet boy forever confused by ill intentions, even in a story.

“Yeah, he’s so lame, right? Anyway, after the God finds her on his island they fall in love and eventually marry… the crown was her wedding present, and after she died Dionysus flung it into the sky to honor her.”

Felix is quiet for a long time after this, inhaling the story with all the deference you deserve. After every narrative he takes his time to think about how he feels about it: the first time you finished a movie with him and he was quiet for fifteen minutes before he told you he liked it, he is like that now. Quietly staring at the sky, not ignoring you for his hand still made its path up and down your arm and you know if you called his name he’d answer, but you don’t want to interrupt his silent seeking.

His life is noisy, spirited, and wonderful in all the ways a beautiful boy like him creates, your infatuation came in chaos–in mindless chatter and kitchen counter dance parties, but you fell in love in silence. In the moments when the world was quiet and all you could hear was his heartbeat, the drawling intake of his lungs filling and releasing. You adore his voice, but just existing with him, sharing the same air would be lovely enough for a lifetime.

Finally, after minutes of staring ahead, he speaks–softly but with no less intensity,

“If something were to happen to you I would make you into a constellation.”

His eyes, bright with longing stare into yours, and you know he’s not being funny. He means it with all of him, means it with every atom of his being.

Shocked and in love with him you laugh, bursting with fondness never hidden. “I love you too,” you say, for you know that's what he means. A love that spills from his veins whenever he thinks of you, so massive and consuming that the words aren’t enough. “I’d make a constellation for you too, it’d be the prettiest one in the whole sky.”

When he moves closer to you, you can feel the smile radiating on his shadowed face–sweeping his grin over the plane of your cheekbones. Scorching your skin where his lips touch, a traveling forest fire of kisses. When his journey ends, sliding his mouth over yours the flames grow, getting taller and taller as his caress goes deeper.

The night is chilly, but there is no need for a coat when his arms are around you–sweeping you into his embrace with only the stars to watch.

“Lets go to bed, lovely” he muttered, breathing through open-mouthed kisses and shared smiles. Leading you to where your tent lies, to where stories and sleep await you–love and life and dreams filled with him, your constellation of a boy.

#felix fluff #felix x reader #felix scenarios #stray kids #skz #stray kids x reader #lee felix x reader #skz x reader #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #lee felix #felix

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raisedbythetv89 · 7 days

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The writers I think mostly completely by accident with the assistance of James charming his way into becoming a main character created the perfect storm to ensure people who love spike would reach absolute peak levels of being completely obsessively deranged about him forever

Season 2:

He’s a punk rock villain with killer cheekbones, enchanting eyes, and an absolutely DEVILISH smile - who’s an incredibly dedicated and dangerous fighter who specifically seeks out challenging fights he’s not guaranteed to win (brave and reckless - normally traits seen in heroes) hates everyone except his mentally ill physically sick wife (the statistics of men who leave their wives when they get sick in the US is horrifying like nurses literally have to warn married women who get sick it happens so often) who he’s hopelessly devoted to and unbelievably soft with and always listens to her while also exuding a psychotic amount of sex appeal and is just F U N he loves being a vampire and he loves fighting and it makes it so much fun for the audience. While still showing how much he respects and admires his enemy for her skill, strength, resourcefulness, and intelligence - NEVER underestimating her just because she’s a tiny blonde girl - and instead of destroying the world for love he SAVES the world for love - a villain doing good to get the love of his life back who essentially dumped him for her ex????????? D E V O T E D and shockingly extremely trustworthy??? And has amazing chemistry with our heroine and is there for a pivotal moment in her life and is the only one there for her when she has no one else????? *enemies to lovers girlies ENTER THE CHAT*

Season 3:

He shows he fucking MEANS IT when he says Dru is the love of his life when he shows up in Sunnydale because he blames Angel not Buffy or Drusilla but the man actually responsible for all their problems and he is the most pathetic mess we’ve ever SEEN!!!! He’s crying and drunk all the time and he’s so sad he goes to Buffy’s mom TO TALK 💀😭 our pathetic sensitive little self admitted lover boy who KNOWS he’s love’s bitch and he won’t be pretending he’s anything otherwise who shows how clearly he sees and understands other people and the depths of his emotional intelligence so much so Buffy herself admits she can’t fool Spike she can fool her friends BUT NOT SPIKE OR HERSELF EXCUSE ME MA’AM WHAT???????

AND Spike doesn’t just uselessly MOPE forever he gets some perspective and is like I know what I’m gonna do to her back and I’m gonna go do that now! 😁👍🏻 showing he never stays down for long and is always gonna get back up to keep fighting for his love while BOTH he and Buffy still honor the truce even though he’s broken it by coming back??? While Buffy’s all “I violently dislike you” YEAH OK GIRL WHATEVER YOU SAY *enemies to lovers girlies chomping at the bit intensifies*

Season 4:

CLEARLY heartbroken about Drusilla (DEVOTED!!!) but it’s turned into anger and resentment directed at Harmony who how bizarre looks nothing like Drusilla but A LOT like Buffy…… hmmmmmmmmmmmmm HOW INTERESTING *enemies to lovers girlies are vibrating with anticipation that turns into a full blown combustion when something blue happens*

Spike doesn’t pretend to love Harmony in order to get what he wants from her (shown in direct contrast to Parker) he’s ironically very honest despite being a villain - he’s showing he’s STILL loyal to Drusilla in ONLY loving her even after she’s dumped him... again!

We see Spike treat Buffy the EXACT same way he treated Drusilla during something blue reaffirming THIS IS HOW THIS MAN LOVES WHEN HE LOVES YOU. He’s extremely affectionate, helpful, protective, caring - D E V O T E D - and is truly just the most certified lover boy we’ve ever fucking seen

Season 5:

SURPRISE HE’S SECRETLY A LOVESICK MAMA’S BOY POET AT HEART UNDERNEATH THE BAD BOY PERSONA AND A PROTECTIVE BIG BROTHER AND NOW BUFFY AND HER FAMILY’S MOST LOYAL DEFENDER AND IS WILLING TO DIE NOT JUST FOR BUFFY BUT FOR ALL THE SUMMERS WOMEN AND HE KNOWS AND SEES BUFFY SO DEEPLY AND INTIMATELY AND CAN HOLD SPACE FOR HER PAIN LIKE NO ON ELSE CAN AND SHOWS THE DEVOTION THAT ONCE BELONGED TO DRUSILLA NOW BELONGS TO BUFFY AND IT IS GOING NOWHERE EVEN WHEN SHE DIES AND WE'VE SEEN IN HIM CRY BEFORE BUT NEVER HAVE WE SEEN HIM BREAK DOWN LIKE HE DOES AT THE SIGHT OF BUFFY'S BODY!!!!!!!!!!!

*all of us screaming, crying, throwing up, climbing the walls and generally just losing our minds*

Season 6:

No soul, his love is so great for Buffy as is his loyalty and devotion to her, he now helps all of his dead love’s friends fight evil and is raising her sister and dreams of saving her every night for 148 nights 🤚🏻😭 don’t even fucking talk to me I can’t take it

Forgive the absolute 180 in tone change here:

Dick game is FIRE - his touch is the only thing that makes Buffy feel alive AND SHE WAS IN HEAVEN BRO SHE KNOWS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO BE IN HEAVEN AND SPIKE IS THE ONLY THING KEEPING HER GOING like damn girl yes YOU FUCK THAT HOUSE DOWN!!! Also he is now just naked 50% of the time just to drive us all even FURTHER out of our minds and somehow has just gotten even hotter as the seasons have gone on like this is what’s been hiding under the leather jacket all this time! Enjoy!

And THE MOST unintended consequence of jw’s vindictive writing:

SPITE

He clearly didn’t want us to love Spike and tried to manipulate us into hating him in such a blatant and clumsy ooc attempt all that did was weed out the weakest amongst the Spuffy/Spike fans until all that remained were us:

The most devoted and stubborn fans who REFUSED to have the thing they loved ruined or taken away from us and were smart enough to see through his bullshit manipulation attempt in the first place.

Genuinely they created the equivalent of supersoilder strength level fans with this absolutely lethal combination of events 💀

AND THEN as if all that wasn't enough he goes and gets his soul on purpose for Buffy so he can be the man she deserves and she can love him without hating herself for loving him despite the immense pain it will cause him which is the most selfless thing we have ever seen anyone do for Buffy only to be topped when he sacrifices himself to destroy the hellmouth, save the world and free her from Sunnydale!!! Plus ya know once he gets the soul even though he did it for her he never tries to use that as leverage to get anything from her like he truly expects nothing from her at all but still wants to help her and James delivers the most devastating performances we've ever fucking seen, finally tells her friends off which has needed to happen for 5 seasons, the "you're the one speech" him being a dad to all the potentials with Buffy giving us supernatural parent core who made it through their rough patch with their first kid in season 6 with Dawn and now are just the beautiful team with their found family and Buffy finally has someone who can truly carry her burdens with her and just all the tenderness and devotion they both deserve after so many years of pain and fighting. Basically giving the audience the message that even if you have a metric ton of pain and trauma there are people out there who see you and understand you and there is a chance for you to heal both together and separately to build your own version of a more normal and stable life. It's a message of such hope and I personally know several people, including myself who watched what Spike and Buffy have and it inspired us to look at the relationships we were in and realize we deserved SO MUCH MORE than what we were getting and in my case it turned out I was being emotionally abused and manipulated that entire time!! Much like Buffy was by both Riley and Angel. So it isn't an exaggeration to say Spuffy saved my life in a lot of ways both in being there for me at such a dark time and helping me draw a map of how to get out. Not to mention loving them in fandom spaces has helped me connect with so many people just like me who share very similar experiences and have helped me feel so much less alone and has helped me heal in so many ways 🖤

Spuffies get "hOw cAn yOu liKe sPiKe aFtEr wHaT hE dId" all the fucking time and truly the better question is how can you NOT like Spike???? HAVE YOU BEEN PAYING ATTENTION AT ALL??? DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT GOOD RELATIONSHIPS NEED TO WORK?? BECAUSE AT THEIR CORE SPUFFY HAS THEM ALL!

It's jw writing so NOTHING will escape his toxic bullshit but Spike - because he was hated by jw for so long - so much of the time when he tried to make Spike less popular he just kept making him better and more complex and more and more targeted to the female gaze which is exactly why he snapped and made the choices he literally forced everyone else to go along with despite their protests with that scene to make it the most traumatizing scene in all of Buffy history not just for the audience but for the actors as well because yes it is incredibly horrific and upsetting to watch (which is why I skip it on rewatches) but I still am able to see if for what it is which is a narcissist lashing out at people he hates because he hasn't been able to control them and too bad for him I refuse to be manipulated by his bullshit so it failed completely and made so many of us that much more stubbornly protective of Spike and his and Buffy's relationship not just from other fans but from the creator himself 🙃🖕🏻like he basically just trauma bonded us to Spike and Buffy which has led to the creation of one of the most devoted, loyal, intelligent fanbases who is absolutely unhinged (affectionate) with their love of this character and his relationship which is why we are all still creating and writing about this character 25 year later and show absolutely zero signs of slowing down or stopping 💀

#spuffy #spike btvs #meta #btvs meta #spike and buffy meta #spike btvs meta #spuffy meta #also every spuffy I know shares so much life experiences and personality traits with buffy herself like we are often making choices #and judgements about the narrative from the perspective of buffy herself & we’re all picking spike #so many people who pick other love interests truly so often rarely see buffy for who she is either #if you don’t get spuffy you don’t truly understand buffy herself

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kawataslvr · 1 month

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u my new favorite author istg

(no one be ded plz) can i request a Mikey x male reader where reader used to date sanzu but caught him cheating with some dr**ged out chick and was going to Emma and just happened to stumble upon Mikey when knocking on the front door and before even noticing who it was, reader ran forward and hugged Mikey and starting silently crying while Mikey was just like “(°_°) who tf is this and why are they so hot” completely ignoring the shorter male hugging him before reader realized they werent hugging Emma and was about to run away before Draken shows up to pick Mikey up to go to a Toman meeting and reader just panics before Mikeys like “Ken-chin….can we keep him”(maybe a smut scene or something-)

idk im obsessed with Mikey rn hdisichfbebnfkd u dont have to use that idea, ill take anything Mikey x male reader or Mikey + Draken x male reader sorry sorry im so demanding ahhh ill leave now, love ur works btw djisjdb

Summary : Angst -> Fluff -> Short Smut ,, if you want a solid description just read the ask ! ,, Suggestive Language near the beginning , SLIGHT Drug mentions bcz its sanzu ,, angst w/ comfort ,, smut near the end ,, ft. draken & emma

A/N : MY FAVORITE CHARACTER IS MIKEY I SAW THIS REQ N LIT UP OMG , dwdw ur not demanding at all <3! i actually rlly like the amount of detail so it gives me an idea !! also tysm im so honored to be ur current fav ❤️❤️ I hope the request is to your liking dear!! sorry the end is so short, i was running out of time :,)

typicxlcato req ,, part 2

Your mind was scrambled, confused and tired. All he needed was to cry into a friends arms, you had caught Sanzu making out with some druggie whore, as soon as you walked into the scene you immediately ran out and went to go see Emma.

Not that she didn’t expect you to come to her crying about Sanzu, not like it was the first time it happened, she’d already warn you about him how his “whole vibe was off” and you “shouldn’t get involved with a guy like that.”

Knocking at the Sano residence door, you didn’t really care who had opened it your body instinct kicked in and hugged the person in front of you.

“Eh—!?” Mikey said in a confused tone, the blond completely ignoring how the smaller male was clinging to him and how he was silently crying in his arms.

The blonde looked down at the boy who was clinging onto him, as usual.. a thought really didn’t go through Mikey’s head only that the guy who was hugging him was actually kind of hot.

Unintentionally he was now staring directly into his eyes and you pulled away in shock, before you could run away or he could say something, you both heard a deep voice from the entrance, of course panicking your body froze completely in confusion while tears still rolled down your cheeks and you stood there awkwardly.

“Oi! Mikey, the meetings about to start soon!” Draken walked in the door, to see a boy crying and Mikey right beside him.

Was this a friend of Mikey’s? He knew he’d seen him around Emma whenever he came over, but his thoughts were interrupted once he heard Mikey speak up from the awkward silence that lingered in the room.

“Ken-chinnn.. can we keep himm?” Draken side eyed the blonde and looked at him with an angry expression “Mikey you dumbass! Its not like hes some pet!”

Naturally, with all the yelling Emma came out of her room. Also because she heard Drakens voice.

“Huh..? Y/N!” Emma quickly walked up to you and hugged you once she saw you crying, Draken and Mikey figured out the two were obviously friends pretty quickly.

Mikey would be lying if he didn’t find this friend of Emma’s cute, cute enough to cancel the Toman meeting too apparently.

you had calmed down after talking to Emma getting the whole “I told you, were too good for that guy anyways.” pep talk from her and the two just hanging out normally.

While Mikey decided to stick around at the Sano residence and catch glances of you.

Emma had left to go get a few batch of snacks for you and her from the convenience store nearby, knowing you probably weren’t in the mood to go outside.. she left you alone on the couch to wait for her while you just sat on your phone.

Mikey had wanted to approach you ever since the small little incident that happened when you first arrived, he couldn’t get over how hot you looked.

“Y/N,, right?” he asked and sat down next to you, watching as your head perked up in a little surprised manner and you set down your phone.

he found it all adorable.

“Ah.. yes, you must be Mikey then?” Mikey had to control himself, he couldn’t help how his eyes were drawn to your beautiful lips.

He’d never met someone as pretty as you he swore.

“You’re so pretty Y/N.” the words slipped out of the blondes lips, not like it wasn’t something he intended to say anyways.

Watching your face turn red at the complement.

Mikey and you yourself didn’t know how you ended up in this position, both of you in his room hoping Emma would take her sweet time with getting those snacks as the two of you heatedly made out on his bed.

Mikey’s hands roaming around your body while yours were wrapped around his neck, oh you definitely weren’t sad anymore.

You’d forgotten the entire reason you were sad in the first place now , this was too god to spoil with the thought of that bastard.

Mikey pulled away and moved down to place hickeys on your neck, letting you catch your breath as he pulled you onto his lap.

His hands still roaming and touching at your body, sliding underneath your shirt.

“y..y/n.. can I?” you nodded your head catching your breath from the earlier make out session.

Mikey slid his hands underneath your shirt, groping under neath making you let out soft mewls and moans of his name.

Before Emma came back the two were too tired out and ruined, laying naked with a blanket on top of each other while they cuddled up to each other.

Mikey and you could deal with this when you woke up, all Mikey knew is that you were worth canceling the toman meeting over.. and you knew Mikey was way better than Sanzu.

#tokyo revengers #bottom reader #male reader #x male reader #mikey x male #mikey x male reader #manjiro x male reader #manjiro x male #manjiro sano #sano mikey manjiro #mikey x y/n #mikey smut #yushi reqs #typicxlcato asks

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miguelhugger2099 · 3 months

Text

A Knight's Oath

Summary: You're a princess in need of a personal guard after your father's passing. Miguel from the enemy kingdom, is assigned to become a spy that kills you. Next>>

Knight!Miguel x Princess!Reader, Enemies to Lovers(?), Angst, Fluff, Not proofread, Word Count: 1,005

Like any tale as old as time, history is never clean. Freedom is never gained through peace. It is violence, a necessary one at that, in order to get what you need. Even if it means becoming the villain to some and the hero to others.

Your father was no exception. As a young king, his father had died in battle protecting the kingdom during a famine. With its citizens crying for help and other countries trying to step on their kingdom, your father had picked up a sword and began to lead a slaughter in the name of freedom. With your mother at his side, she helped on the inside, providing jobs, and a sense of community for hope and pride of their heritage. It had been a long thirteen years of bloodshed, but ultimately, the king had successfully pushed back intruders and helped bring his kingdom back to life.

In the middle of the war, you had been born–a princess–a new era of hope and peace for the land. Your people had celebrated your birth with parades, art, music and dancing, while your parents always showed you off with pride. For the next couple of years, you had been raised to be kind, resilient and humble. You were still just a baby when it had ended, so you did not know the true extent of it. You did know there was a war where other countries had looked down upon you and despite the small size of your army, you had won. You knew your father did whatever he had to do to protect the faces of the common people and the future of your life so you never faulted him for it.

Unfortunately, your father passed just before you reached adulthood. An unknown illness and went in his sleep. Everyone had mourned the terrible loss of their protector and beloved king, father and husband. Despite his actions in war, he was always incredibly kind to his people and was a great role model of a man in your life. You took pride in the fact you were his flesh and blood and that would never change. So with honor and grace, you worked hard to follow in his footsteps to be a great leader.

Others, however, did not share the same feelings. In other stories, your father was the devil himself. A cruel king that had struck anyone who had gotten in his way, caused the downfall of armies and used wicked ways to poison and torture troops to his advantage. When word of his passing had spread, many had celebrated the death of the evil king and hoped all those who lived in his kingdom perished with him.

Miguel O’Hara was one who thought the same. He hated the king that had started a war and it killed his father, hated how the aftermath of it left his mother depressed and his family starving. His homeland was in shambles because of your father and for years, he prayed for a chance to help his own country in gaining revenge.

So, for years Miguel had worked his way up in the ranks of his homelands army. A protector of his people and a way to finally fight back if another war were to break out again. He not only trained hard for his home, but to also feed his family—his mother and little brother. He often worried about them but little Gabriel was always eager to help while Miguel was away. Always a kind soul, he was.

When rumors had gone out that his king had been planning on planting a spy and an assassination on the princess of the enemy land, Miguel’s interest had been piqued. He thought to himself, without an heir, that wicked kingdom would surely fall to its knees and get what they deserve.

Naturally, Miguel had been called in for an audience with the king. He bent down on one knee and bowed his head.

“My Lord.” He greeted.

The king’s slicked back white hair practically glinted in the sunlight where its rays were seeping through the tall windows of the throne room. “Stand, soldier.” His voice boomed.

Miguel stood back up, the metal of his knight armor clanking against each other and he rested his wrist on his sword by his side. The king spoke again. “My boy, you are the finest gem in our armed forces. Your victories are endless and you make all of us here proud.”

Miguel’s face didn’t move, still as ever and it only made the king’s grin curl up even more.

“Which is why I’ve assigned you a special mission,” Miguel took a deep breath. “As the princess of Etheria’s guard.”

Now that had made Miguel’s face scrunch up in disgust. “My Lord, forgive me but–” He quickly shut his mouth when the king raised his hand.

“You will portray yourself as one of them. Eat, sleep and breathe like them and gain a position of a knight in their castle,” He explained. “There are talks of the princess needing a personal guard. Once you have gained information and the trust of those lowlife scum, you are to kill her. Once she is dead, we will invade their land and finish what they started.”

Miguel let his words seep into his thoughts. To live amongst the people he’s loathed since the beginning? It was barbaric and humiliating.

But this was his chance. A chance at revenge. He was angered when the king had died before he could even get close. Now, with the opportunity of sticking a sword in his own daughter’s heart–Miguel felt that was an even better alternative.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by his king. “Do what you must to be as convincing as possible. Care for her, protect her, admire her, kill one of our own if need be– just make sure that no one expects a thing… Especially the princess.” Miguel stood up straighter, saluting the man in front.

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Dismissed.”

A/N: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara imagine

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blues824 · 1 year

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Snake and Love hashira and Poly!Bi!reader unrequited love!

The cannon lovers don't take notice of reader's love for both of them! As reader been obliviously showing their love for the two... sooner or later reader stops their efforts unnoticeable and get kind of sad about it...

reader can have a sad ending of dying by (demon, self inflicted, Died of unknown like illness ect..) their crow delivered the message of their death while also giving all the hashira a long letter! Mini reactions of all letters! The letters are their feelings towards all the hashira even if they didn't talk much!

Angst is what I am feeling sorry y'all fluff lovers out there!

Your cause of death is up to your interpretation.

Gyomei Himejima

He had someone read it to him for obvious reasons

Cried more than usual

You didn’t talk much, but it still hurt

From that point on, he made sure your memory was honored

Mitsuri Kanroji

Upon finding out that you loved both her and Obanai, she wept

For days on end, she cried

She was unconsolable

Keeps your haori if it was recoverable

Giyu Tomioka

Even though he tried not to get attached to people

He thought you were an exception

You were his friend, and now you are gone

Learned his lesson the hard way, I guess

Tengen Uzui

Well, this wasn’t a very flamboyant situation

His wives wept at the death of their friend

However, no tears left the Sound Hashira’s eyes

He was simply in shock

Sanemi Shinazugawa

You were the person who got him closer to his younger brother

Now you were gone

He tried his hardest not to cry

But goddamn it was hard

Shinobu Kocho

Once she saw your crow, she knew what happened

She just felt tired

Tired of losing the people that she loves

Tired of mourning those she has lost

Kyojuro Rengoku

Another fallen comrade in arms

It’s not an uncommon thing, but he didn’t expect it to be you

He lets a few tears fall as he reads the letter

You knew you weren’t coming back

Obanai Iguro

When he read your written confession, he went into shock

Kaburamaru started hissing sadly

At night, he weeps because he hadn’t known about your feelings

It’s too late now. You’re gone

Muichiro Tokito

The first time anyone saw him snap back to reality

No, this will not be an Eminem reference

He didn’t know you well, but you have fought many battles together

He places some flowers upon your burial site

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yamujiburo · 1 year

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God I've been so on board with the hanamusa train despite coming in late that I just never questioned how Delia decided "this person tried stealing my son's pokemon but its OK bc really all she wanted at the end of the day was someone to validate her existence and I love her and will always let her know her existence is valid" so i went to go read the origin story and... omg its exactly that pretty much. She's sus at the beginning and like, who can blame her!! But the Rocket Trio are genuinely Good People who do Bad Things but ultimately just want to Love and Be Loved and will do anything for that, even if it means sacrificing themselves (thinks back to the episode where they gave up Weezing and Arbok even though it meant losing their long term friends AND getting so beat up in the process... that episode makes me cry)

Your honor, i love them (adds hanamusa to the "ships ill gladly write fic for no questions asked" pile)

YES YOU GET IT!!! Her backstory is sooooo sad but soooo good! And not only are Team Rocket good people but later on in the series, they definitely show that they really care for Ash a bit more

BUT ALSO it cannot be understated that Delia is a liiiiittle dumb. If not dumb then naive and trusting (she's still very young herself). I think about this clip A LOT

Could also speak to how she knows Team Rocket aren't really an actual threat or that she knows they're not BAD bad people.

And if you write that fic PLEASE let me know!!! <3

#ask yam

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 5 months

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Make Me Feel Alive Episode 1

Gilbert von Obsidian's Birthday Story

This is simply a fan translation and is not intended as a replacement for the game. Expect grammatical errors.

As Christmas and the end of the year drew near, the chilly season brought a sense of excitement to everyone's hearts.

In the Obsidian Castle, a scene that unfolded regularly once a month continued to take place right before my eyes.

Gilbert: "Hey, Walter. Can't you stop using Emma so casually?"

Gilbert: "She threatened me with a 'no touching' order if I didn't come to the infirmary, you know?"

Gilbert, sitting on the bed and buttoning his shirt, turned his red eyes toward me, clearly sulking.

Gilbert: "I'll kill anyone who gets close to Emma."

Walter: "It's just a matter of you going for regular check-ups willingly."

Walter: "Relying on Roderich every single time to keep you in check also has its limits."

Gilbert: "Your check-ups are too frequent and troublesome."

Walter: "Your body needs a little more caution. You had a high fever just the other day."

Gilbert: "Even normal, healthy people get a fever sometimes."

Walter: "How many times do I have to tell you that you are prone to serious illnesses? And do you want to make your fiancée cry again?"

Gilbert: "Yeah, I want to make her cry. I want to make her cry a lot."

Emma: "Prince Gilbert."

The other day, when Gilbert seemed off, I touched his skin and felt a warmth that was completely opposite to his usual coldness. His breathing seemed abnormal, so I hurriedly went to call Walter.

(I was really worried, but he doesn't seem to care at all.)

Gilbert: "You're also exaggerating."

Emma: "I’m really worried about you."

Gilbert: "Poor thing."

(No use. He's clearly enjoying himself.)

Walter: "Roderich, your master is too evil."

Roderich: "Doctor, he is also your master."

Walter: "Damn it."

Gilbert: "Hm? What's that? You want a salary cut?"

Walter: "It's an honor to serve such a wonderful master like you!"

Gilbert: "Fufu, is that so?"

(I've been getting used to this atmosphere.)

Gilbert generally avoided unnecessary interactions with people.

However, he seemed to trust Roderich and Walter to some extent, and they often had lively and dangerous conversations like this.

(Right! Since Gilbert's associates are all here and his regular checkup is over, I think now is just the right time.)

Emma: "By the way, it's almost your birthday."

Emma: "How do you usually celebrate it?"

Walter & Roderich: "........."

Emma: "Um..."

(Huh? What's with this atmosphere?)

As soon as the topic of "birthday" was brought up, Walter, who was usually talkative, and Roderich, who silently watched the situation from the sidelines, both shut their mouths.

Their expressions held a tension that you couldn't just dismiss easily.

(Did I say something wrong?)

Emma: "Could it be that birthdays are not celebrated at Obsidian?"

Gilbert: "No, regular households do celebrate properly. Birthdays are special no matter which country you're in."

Emma: "Then, what's with this atmosphere?"

Emma: "You mentioned the other day that it was almost your birthday."

Gilbert: "Yeah, because I thought you'd be particular about such things."

(So it's not exactly taboo.)

Walter and Roderich both lowered their heads.

Only Gilbert continued to smile.

Gilbert: "My birthday is something celebrated by those who want to die."

Episode 1 ╎ Episode 2 ╎ Episode 3

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri gilbert #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri jp #ikepri translations #cybird

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alexiethymia · 5 months

Text

a flower by any other name would taste as poisonous

A butterfly flaps its wings and a hurricane happens in a far-off place.

In this case an old eunuch decides to take a different route from his usual one. It takes him by the Garnet Palace, where he’s just in time to stop a loving attendant from feeding an infant a spoonful of honey. Sufficiently warned, the attendant never bears the crushing weight of guilt for the rest of her life.

The infant still dies though. It’s nothing surprising. Infants before a certain age would always be vulnerable and susceptible to natural illnesses. It is no one’s fault.

If the child still died though, what did this change? Surprisingly, a lot.

Eight years later a boy is crying after having a favorite toy taken from him once again.

A girl, merely a year younger than him, asks him in a dispassionate tone where it hurts.

Startled, the boy stops crying. Eyes shining, he looks at this girl who resembles a wood sorrel and decides she’s his new favorite.

How is it that those two seemingly random encounters could lead to this particular scene, one resembling a painting?

On one side, an existence like a celestial nymph, voice of sweet honey, a beauty that could topple nations if he so wished.

One would think that no one could compare, and yet the beauty on the other side was not overshadowed. She was a vision no less stunning for she was once known as a top courtesan of the pleasure district.

It was perhaps fortunate that no one was a witness to this display for no one could hope to count how many hapless victims would be felled by such visions of loveliness.

As to what these beauties were doing, no one could have guessed for in between them stood a single Go board.

tap

“I must admit that while I was expecting a visit from his Imperial highness soon, I didn’t think it would be for this.”

The celestial nymph flushed.

“Apologies for taking some of your precious time, Feng Xian-dono.”

tap

The unfettered beauty took her time deciding her next move. The man who was also called Jinshi did not fool himself into thinking it was because he was a worthy opponent. Although he was used to using his excellent looks as a weapon, why is it that before this woman he felt as if he were merely a mouse being played with? A finely sculpted brow conveyed enough with one gesture. He felt as if he were playing two games at the same time.

“And? What is so important that the Prince of the Moon felt the need to risk Lakan’s wrath to come here? Why, you even roped Lahan into this plan of yours.” The cold beauty didn’t smile but he had a sense that she was amused.

Jinshi wondered. Did he rope Lahan or did that miser rope him? It didn’t matter. Shaking his head, he hoped he was equally composed when he answered, “I must admit it was that esteemed personage’s recommendation that sent me your way. Aside from him, only you could fight on equal ground with our honored strategist.”

tap

Seemingly bored but only just, such that she could not be accused of disrespecting him, his opponent continued her queries, “And? Surely, you don’t hope to best that girl at a game of Go? She has utterly no interest at the game. It’s a wonder if she takes after us at all. I often wonder how she came to be so uncute, though of course Lakan would disagree.”

Jinshi would as well. Or to be more accurate, he both agreed and disagreed. While that girl was often distant, on the whole he could not help but find her adorable.

And from the shadow of a smile he could spy on his opponent’s face, he gathered that she was much the same, and could only dote on her daughter in this roundabout way. Although parent and child both claimed no similarity, he thought in this manner you could not doubt their familial tie.

Likewise with her father, though she only had disdain for the man (not that it would stop that eccentric’s entreaties to be called Papa from happening, thought Jinshi with a shiver). He’ll leave it up to Gaoshun to commiserate.

That wary cat only showed affection for her honored grand uncle. In much the same way, as much as she protested, she and her sire were a lot alike. There was also their utter disinterest in anyone ordinary and unexceptional.

Like him.

Any other family would have accepted just by virtue of who he was. But it mattered not to this particular family who cared not for prestige or power. This family was content to keep to itself and occupied with its members’ various obsessions. Rather than consider it an honor to be connected to the noble line of the rulers of this nation, Jinshi thought that Lakan rather saw him as some annoying fly.

And for that annoying fly to not only buzz around his beloved daughter but also to dare be in the proximity of his beloved wife, the only two people that eccentric fawned over and adored with all his heart, ah surely this was a perilous gamble indeed.

But for an ordinary person like Jinshi, no Ka Zui Getsu, this was the only thing he could do.

Ironic that when he wanted it most, he could not rely on this excellent appearance of his, the only thing extraordinary about him. This family cared not a whit for that. At first he had wondered why that apothecary continued to be unaffected by him, but to have someone like this for a mother, he realizes she must have already been bored by the sight. (She had actually scoffed at him after they had seen each other once again in the rear palace.)

It left him scrambling, but also strangely relieved.

“It’s not that I want to best her. At most I hope to be on equal footing.” Slightly abashed, he shakes his head. “In truth, it is our honored strategist whom I wish to have a match with. Though it may be impossible, the Sage tells me my best hope lie with the only person to have bested the Grand Commandant more times than even him.”

Seemingly intrigued if the slight lifting of one brow indicated such, the once courtesan inquired, “Oh? And to what end if I may ask?”

How to answer.

Grappling with something in himself, Jinshi finally admitted, “Merely to be acknowledged, I suppose. To be seen and recognized.”

To be accepted.

By whom, his companion seemed content not to ask if the curl of her mouth was any indication.

Maomao had often complained (though she would deny it with a blank look if asked) in a bland tone that she thought she must surely be adopted by the one she called father, for surely she had no resemblance to this beauty in front of him. Chicken bones she called herself. (Incidentally, she was adamant that she was not ugly enough to be related to the fox. She was, in her own view, perfectly normal. Jinshi almost spat out his tea upon hearing this if only it wasn’t unbefitting his station.)

But seeing what could pass for an amused look on this normally expressionless face, Jinshi for the first time in front of another great beauty, blushed for he could only see traces of the one he yearned for in this visage.

Truly, they were mother and daughter indeed.

He was caught in a daydream of a scene years into the future, with Maomao dressed in such finery, of when he could finally lavish her with all his attentions as he pleased.

tap

The harsh clack of the Go stones brought him back from his musings and his attention onto the board. Upon seeing how he was completely dominated, he let out a deep sigh.

“A long way to go, your highness.”

As if echoing his thoughts, an imperious voice declared his resounding defeat. If not for the twinkle in her eye he could detect, he would no doubt feel as if he was not even worth the heel of her shoe, never mind that he was the current Imperial heir. Distantly, he wonders if this was the sight that bewitched and entrapped that eccentric so long ago.

Privately laughing at his own folly, he decides he was no better for it was the same look from that tiny wood sorrel that sealed his fate. Flowers could heal, but they could also be poisonous. He knew better than most. No matter. Regardless of the outcome, he would swallow her whole.

Truly there was a long way to go before he could turn that dream into anything close to reality. He doesn’t mind tasting defeat again and again for the chance of victory one day.

Once more, he resets the board.

notes:

Jinshi and the Imperial brother are still switched at birth so he still doesn’t know who he really is.

The imperial brother still dies in infancy but not so soon after his birth. Since Luomen manages to stop the honey incident, the tragedy with Aduo’s head maidservant doesn’t happen later on. He doesn’t get punished nor does he get driven out.

Because he doesn’t get driven out, Lakan isn’t pressured into a military expedition to reclaim the honor of the family. He manages to redeem Feng Xian immediately.

Lakan still somehow ends up the head since his younger brother doesn’t really see himself suited to the position. He still ends up taking the headship from his father probably because Feng Xian was insulted or something and he wants to spoil her. His father and sister-in-law probably still end up leaving on their own like in the original timeline rather than being driven away. One way or another, Maomao, Rahan and Rahan-nii end up being raised together.

Maomao is still the same. Sure, she’s raised as a noble lady but she still spends half of her life at the pleasure district with Feng Xian, her sisters and penny-pinching granny. I doubt Lakan would stop them since this isn’t a conventional family after all.

Luomen probably sneaks in town undercover to still be an apothecary for those who might need it most, with Maomao accompanying him.

Since Maomao is raised as a noble, one way or another she ends up as Jinshi’s playmate. Of course, Jinshi still ends up attached. And of course Lakan puts a stop to it as soon as he can. It doesn’t have anything to do with any political maneuvering. He’s just an overprotective papa.

Maomao still ends up in the rear palace, this time as Luomen’s apprentice so of course she ends up crossing paths with Jinshi once again when they’re older.

And so the adventures of the young prince and apothecary still continue, fates still intertwined.

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cosmicdeaths · 6 months

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i'm writing this because i don't know else to do to stop crying. and because there is little else my helpless hands can do to change this horrifying reality we're living in. i am sudanese. and my mother just told me that we've lost yet another relative in the ongoing civil war in sudan. i've also learned that the small lovely town i grew up in, Shambat, in Khartoum Bahri, is currently plagued by this fever the origin of which is yet to be identified. from what little we know whoever gets this fever just does not wake up to see the sun of another day. it might be because the dead bodies people buried in their backyards in a desperate attempt to grieve and honor them are unearthed by the rain. it might be because the entire health system has collapsed months ago and there is no way for these people to attain any form of medical help. we've lost family members with chronic conditions simply because they couldn't get medical attention until it was too late. my own grandfather died of complications that could've easily been managed had they gotten him the proper treatment. we've lost people to this fever, too. a brother and the very next day, his sister. and more keep dying. it hurts and angers me that no one's talking about this. and just as equally my heart breaks for each and every palestinian out there, and i keep praying for them and hoping to be half as patient as they are. i know what it's like to be so scared your entire body goes numb, i know what it's like to be displaced and leave behind everything you've ever known with little hope of ever coming back. to survive and not really feel like you did. i saw this video of a palestinian woman holding her dead baby and just begging to nurse him one more time. i see palestinian men breaking down into tears while trying to comfort children, literal babies, whom they pulled out of the rubble. a little girl who's saying god why didn't you take me along with my mother, god, you know i can't live without her. and i suddenly remember that i know of a friend of my family who just sits there crying helplessly every night because she doesn't know what to tell her starving nieces who are too young to understand that they can't get food because of all the shooting outside. i keep seeing entire villages in the west being completely wiped off the map, reduced to nothing but a black dot of ashes and ruin. and this isn't even a first; ethnical cleansing in the western areas of sudan went on for decades and no one even bat an eye. my heart will never stop bleeding for Darfur. i know of a group of boys who were stuck for days in the very university i went to, waiting for a ceasefire for days on end until one of them died of fear or starvation or illness or whatever it is that we still don't know to this very day, and they had to bury him in the very field they used to play football matches in. a field every student in that university knows and has been to and laughed and cried in. girls are raped and sexually enslaved in terrifying numbers. the biggest maternity hospital in the country, the one i was born in, was looted and patients kicked out. these are all stories that will never leave my memory til the day i die. they're all deaths i will never forgive nor stop mourning. i won't despair and i won't give up, but the heart aches and cracks, and the tears run and run and leave crevices behind. the world is an ugly, ugly place. only hope and solidarity can save us. my sudanese and palestinian brothers and sisters, you are not alone. and you never will be.

#sudan #sudan crisis #sudan conflict #palestine #free palestine #gaza #free gaza #may allah put an end to all this pain #Keep Eyes on Sudan

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witchofhimring · 7 months

Text

Loyalty (chapter 5)

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell Reader Aemond Targaryen x Ellyn Baratheon

Y/n Tyrells Profiles

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, childbirth, emotional turmoil, death, unrequited love?, humiliation by Ellyn Baratheon, marital abuse, marital consummation, misogamy (internalized as well as external), brief depictions of smut, Plot twist at the end!

Synopsis:

It is the day of your wedding and you have never been more miserable. Also this chapter has uncomfortable descriptions of marital sex that may be upsetting for some viewers.

The carriage had screeched to a hault. You were nearly thrown to the floor it it was not for Lady Alana who had saved you in the nick if time. Alarmed, Tyshara cowered in her seat. Everything seemed to be floating out of focus. A pounding echoed in your head. An ice cold breeze bite at your skin through the window. The scream accompanied the sudden screech. Princess Ellyn had alarmingly jumped to her feet and was coming straight for Elinor. Her long nails buried themselves into Elinor's hair. She cried out from the sudden attack and Princess Elly, with the fury of an enraged stag, attacked her. "Stop it!" Your shrill voice had Lady Alana, who was now in tears, burst out of the carriage. A moment later knights came in. The scene was so hectic in its fury that you could hardly know what was transpiring. Only cries and being shoved around by gauntlet clad hands. Someone seized you and the next thing you knew your feet were off the ground. Someone was carrying you outside. Lady Alana had collapsed and was on the ground, a knight attempting to console her. Tyshara looked nauseous and was huddled against a tree. She had never thoughts about what the consequences of her actions could cause. Two guards had Elinor with Princess Ellyn on their tail. She was practically howling with rage at this point. "Take her away! Take her and throw her into the darkest cell!" You started to cry. "No's" continuously left your mouth as Ellyn Baratheon called for vengeance. You could do nothing more than be rooted to the ground in horror like Lady Alana and Tyshara.

Ellyn had finally ran out of words. She staggered and staggered over to a tree stump. Her face was a putrid her and her blue eyes, well, there was nothing remotely beautiful about them now. Great huffs of breath left her body. She looked like her heart might give out at any point. The ruckus had not gone unnoticed. Jason Lannister, Prince Aemond Targaryen and several others thundered around the corner. Their horses stopped and they descended upon the group. "In the name of the Seven, what has happened?!" Jason Lannister looked stunned at the sheer chaos before him. Tyshara lunged at her father with a wail and buried her face in his chest. She tried getting out some words but failed to do so. Ellyn took the initiative. "My Lord, this wretch, a creature in your betrotheds service spoke ill of me to my face!" Horrified and angry, the brief paralysis that had held you bound disappeared. "Only because you spoke ill of me! As my Lady she is honor bound to defend me!" You protested, turning to Jason Lannister. You might not get any sense into Ellyn, but maybe your future husband might be more willing. "And may I ask how this fight did start?" Prince Aemond looked between you and Ellyn, likely guessing the cause of discord here. "My Lord, may I speak?" Lady Alana had risen to her feet shaking. "Of course." Gallantly Jason Lannister helped her sit. Tears welled in her eyes but she pushed them back. "Lady Tyshara was speaking with Her Grace and put to question Lady Y/n's service to her former mistress. And the Princess cast assumptions onto Lady Y/n's character regarding her friendship with the Prince. Lady Elinor over there was distressed by this and scolded to Princess. Then herself, being angry, the Princess attacked her." Lady Alana seemed unable to speak any more. She dissolved once more into frightened tears.

There were marks indented into your skin. It felt like someone was pushing needles into your lungs making every breath difficult. You thought you might faint. At least you would not have to be here facing this lot. Eyes were on you, Ellyn and Lady Alana. "Ser Trish, please take the Lady Alana back to the castle so that she may rest." The knight bowed and lead Lady Alana to a horse. Jason Lannister placed a hand on his daughters shoulder and she went to her governess. The two of them disappeared behind the wagon and a moment later you noticed them gallop away. Disbelief hit you. After what she had done Tyshara was simply allowed to leave while you face scrutiny?! Young she might be, but not so young that her behavior could simply be dismissed. "Where is the King. If you will not give me justice then I will seek it from him." Ellyn demanded. "If the King is just then it is you who should face punishment." Defiantly you stared her down. Ellyn rose to her feet and started walking towards you, only for Prince Aemond to seize her hand. Then in a move that startled everyone there, Ellyn swung around and her hand collided with Prince Aemond's cheek. In alarm he simply gazed down at her. Ellyn herself was frozen, horrified by what she had just done.

"I believe that we should all depart. Your Graces, I will take Lady Y/n with me." Jason Lannister took your hand and there was a stiffness to him. Would he blame you for this? You just wanted to hide somewhere far away. Perhaps into the forest with only the darkness, blanches and maybe witches. It would be more preferable anyway. Jason Lannister called for a horse and a knight gave his up. After being helped up you looked over at Elinor. She was still in their grasp, white as a sheet. "May Lady Elinor attend me?" You asked. Jason Lannister shot you a hard look. "No Y/n, you may not."

You remembered nothing from the hunt. Choosing to sit under the canopy with Lady Karina. No words passed your lips, you were too numb to speak. The fear had paralyzed you. Only when it got dark did they mercifully decide to disband. A carriage had been brought up to collect you. Thankfully no one but Lady Karina joined you. Down the darkening path your group traveled. The lamp above bounded slightly with each jolt. Your eyes temptingly shut, promising a peaceful sleep. But nagging anxiety wracked your body. At any moment you felt like a hammer might be dropped on you. Suspended, waiting to strike. Once more you wished to run into those woods. You looked out the window and the old forest beyond. It was illuminated by the moonlight. There was something archaic about the way each branch gently drooped down. Above the clattering of hooves you could hear the wind whispering against the ground. You could almost hear voices in there, calling out. For some reason this did not scare you. The exhaustion must really be taking its hold.

You were so tired you failed to notice Elinor was still missing.

You woke up to a horrible stinging in your wrists. Crying up, you clutched at them. Lady Mari who had been ordered to sleep next to your bolted upright. "My Lady!" She seized your hands and looked at the smooth, unblemished skin. It died down to a dull thud. The two of you gazed at the place that had ached so terribly. She delicately examined the area. Cold sweat slipped down your back, staining the bedsheets. You smelt something almost metallic in the air, the scent of salt staining the air. You told yourself it was the sea.

Every motion was slow, but too fast at the same time. They stripped you down one agonizing piece at a time. Their hands went in places you did not want them to go. Cold fingers held you like roots, planting you to the ground. If you'd had your way, you would have ran. Somewhere far away from here.

Once more they bathed you in some sweet smelling oil. Now that you were more awake yesterdays situation blasted into your foggy mind. Elinor. "Where is she!" You abruptly stood up. A cry of alarm came from Lady Griar as water spilled out. "Where is Elinor!" You demanded once more." Lady Alana, who's eyes still looked red, blinked and turned her head. "She is in the dungeons, My Lady. Lord Lannister commanded it." Lady Karina spoke up. Lady Mari looked at her, raised an eyebrow, then picked up a towel. "I believe it is time to dry off." But you stubbornly stood there. "It is as Lady Karina says." She responded to your uncooperative self. You jumped out, took the towel and ran into your room. The ladies who had not assisted with the bath had been chatting beside the bed. Their conversation was cut sort to see their Lady run by and seize robe. "My Lady!" One of them cried, seeing you go for the door. Before they could ready you the door flew open. There stood Prince Aemond Targaryen.

The last time you had spoken the the Prince your friendship had been sundered. Since then he had been a Prince to you. No longer your dearest confidant. Looking into his eyes was similar to a strangers. You looked away. You would never be able to look into his eyes as a friend in this life. Even though you had gotten use to it there was still a sadness that gnawed at you. "My Lady.....I am sorry I should not have come." He mumbled out the last part. He turned on his heel, but you called out. "Is Elinor alright?!" Prince Aemond paused. "I do not know her current state of mind. But she is in the dungeons." He nervously tittered there, indecisive. Lady Mari dashed out and seized you by the arm, hauling you back in. The door was slammed up. "You mustn't be seen like this around men!" He hissed. "Will she be alright?" You're gaze was still to the door. "I do not know." And with that unsatisfying comment, she took the robe off you and they continued their task. Even with all the fuss over your body the thoughts still remained on Elinor and Prince Aemond. He had come to see you completely of his own volition. A small part of you hoped he still cared.

You had imagined this in your dreams. The sept decked out in all its splendor. Every member of the court dressed in their best. The weather was perfect. The sun was out as if celebrating this union. Birds could be heard chirping outside. The sweet scent of early spring flowers hung in the air.

And you, dressed in white as the perfect bride.

This time it was you. Dressed in pure white, married to a man more than half your age. Every step felt like you were getting closer to your doom. All eyes were on you and it was horrible. The dress felt too heavy, each gems in your hair pulled painfully. Every second was torture. As you got up to the front you saw the faces of Prince Aemond and Ellyn. Aemond's was hard to read, but he was looking at you with such intensity as you had never seen. Ellyn had something between a sneer and a frown upon her features. You noticed a faint red mark on her neck and felt ill. Elinor had likely done that to her. What where they doing to her right now as you walked down the isle. You were practically dragged the past few steps by the man giving you away. Jason Lannister's calloused hand took yours. The grip almost crushed the delicate bones in your. Biting back the urge to pull back, you faced him. In another state of mind you might have paid attention to the state of his garbs, in their fine red and gold. Although older he was not bad looking. In fact many women would happily be in your place. But all you knew right now was fear and the conscious desire to hold in the bile. "In the light of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, bind them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words." Your voice came out weak and tired. Like a puppet doing a poor imitation of the controller. "And now, in the Light of the Seven, I pronounce you lawfully married." He took his hands and cupped your face. You felt trapped. His cold lips touched yours.

"To lady Lannister!" The cape on your back weighed you down. But it was nothing compared to the weight on your heart. You really thought your heart might give out. This was your life now, as Jason Lannister's wife. The title caused a wave of sadness to cascade over you. All you wanted was for the day to end. To just lay down and sleep. The cheers and merriment around you only served to cause further distress. You could have really used Elinor's company then. "My Lord, my congratulations of the wedding." Prince Ameond walked with his arms linked with his wife. You swallowed whatever it was you were feeling and took a gulp of line. "I thank you. I hope we are as happy as you are." He replied in good cheer. Jason Lannister had a bright flush to his cheeks. Maybe he would feel to drunk to sleep with you tonight, Gods willing. "We thank you. And I am very happy." Ellyn smiled in what anyone else would have assumed was in good faith. But you did not miss the exact curve of her lips, not the malicious glint in her eyes. "Mu Lord, may I dance with your wife?" You tried to indicate to her husband that this was not what you wanted. But either he did not or chose not to notice. So in defeat you followed her to the dance floor. This dance was made so that two of the same gender could dance. Thankfully none of it required for you to touch her. You faced each other and you stepped left, she stepped right. Together the two of your twirled around, your white and black dresses contrasting. "What is the point of this?" You wanted to get this over with. "Your lady, Elinor." Ellyn effortlessly glided past you. Your steps became more stilted. "Where is she?' You tried to control the panic in your voice. Ellyn laughed, a nauseating, belly curdling noise. "She attacked a Princess. I doubt her punishment shall not be sever." You wanted to scratch her eyes out. To tear out her beautiful long curls and hurl them into the flames. You wanted her to suffer for a thousand lifetimes and even then you might not be satisfied. And you almost did, you nearly lunged at her. But the world had a habit of turning you on your head. A cheer rose up and in your confusion you lost Ellyn in the crowd. Hands grabbed at you, male hands as they shoved you towards the exit. The impulse to scream was only shoved down due to fear. You realized this was the bedding and all you could think of was the pain.

By the time you arrived at the doors several of your finery had gone missing. Someone had seized the golden diadem upon your head. Another had tugged at your breasts causing rubies to spill on the floor. Mortified, you tried to hide your face as they all laughed. Once at the door you prayed they would leave. But their hands remained on you and someone's hand grabbed you waist. A cold shot paralyzed you as fear took away your ability to react. Mind blank, you just mindlessly stood there. "Enough!" You could have cried with relief. Even if it was Prince Aemond you would accept any salvation. With a groan the men subsided and begrudgingly trundled the other way. You felt Prince Aemond standing behind him, the warmth radiating off of him. "Are you alright?" You said nothing. You wanted to cry but your pride would not allow it. The cloak of protection was wrapped tightly around your shaking form. A surprisingly warm hand placed itself on your shoulder. "Y/n." There was something in his voice you had never heard. Or rather, you had only heard it twice. After he lost his eye and the death of Lucerys. It was the tone one took when they had lost something. Similar to the strain in your voice when Prince Aemond left. It gave you a hollow feeling that stirred around in your gut. One stray tear rolled down your smooth cheek. You felt so lonely and what you had lost came crashing down. You could no longer spend your days running along the Red Keep. Hiding in the alcoves, spending sunny days having tea with Helaena and reading to Prince Aemond before bed were part of the past. Almost a past life. The flowing dresses from your childhood were replaced by these stiff, formal dresses that made you feel suffocated. You wanted to go back, turn back time to a simpler place. "Y/n, please turn." If anger had processed you then the response might have been different. Yet so tired where you, stretched so thin, there was no response. His voice, that small agonizing thread, thundered in your scull. You were not sure how to take it. He had been a stranger to you and everything had fallen. You were not allowed to bring anyone from Kings Landing save Elinor. Elinor who was locked away from you. "Go." You whispered. You heard his breath hitch. In that moment the two of you made your choices. If the decision that you two made in that moment had been different, things would have been different. But you did not turn and confide in one another. Backs turned and both of you went your separate ways. You watched Prince Aemond walk down the hall. Smaller and smaller he became, until there was nothing else.

The door opened and the sent of sweat and cinnamon met you. They pulled you in with eager hands. Your husband had already arrived, laughing bawdily with his friends. Only two women were in, Lady Alana and another who's name you did not know. They stripped you down into your undergarments and you were thrust towards the bed. There were no sheets to cover you, only bedding and a rectangular piece of cloth. They sprayed you with some strong smelling perfume and laid you on the bed. You could near them laughing and in your head it sounded mocking. With you heart in your throat, you just lay there. Jason Lannister took his place beside you. He looked more at ease than you, a virgin. Sheer curtains were drawn around the bed. They only showed the outline, but even that was too much. Once they shut the curtains, they all fell into a horrid silence. A silence that was louder than any rowdy brawl.

Jason Lannister moved and your senses were set on edge. He got himself up and seized one of your legs. You seriously wanted to cry at that moment. You thought of how every bride must go through this on their wedding night. With all eyes on them. And even after they must freely give themselves to their husbands without complaint. You think of the Dowager Queen who had been younger than herself when she surrendered her maidenhead to a man more than twice her years. Or Helaena, she at least had been sparred the humiliation of a public bedding. But it likely had not been pleasant, she never talked about it. If your parents had been alive could they have stopped it? You wondered how your life might have turned out had they been alive. You remembered your father. He seemed so tall and strong to you. How he would pick you up and spin you around. The two of you would walk amongst the gardens as he read aloud to you. Then deeper memories resurfaced. Ones you had pushed far back. Your mother was a shadow to you. A mere imprint of whom she might truly have been. What had her own wedding night been like? Had she been as scared as you were now?

Your nightgown was pushed up to your thighs. Embarrassment clouded your features as your realized what he was looking at. Hands touched your thighs and you nearly jumped back. You battled with the desire to flee and to lay still. Then his thumb touched between your legs and you gave a jolt. You were not sure what to label this sensation. It was not pleasant, in fact it was invasive. But a strong pull in your pelvis caused you to close your eyes. He did it again. As he felt around you lay there trying to control whatever it was you felt in your stomach. Then his thighs met yours and your breath stilled. You knew what was about to happen, and you dreaded it. When he did enter it was like back in the maester's room. Judging eyes watching your every move. A sting at something penetrated you. Only it was not pulled out. Again and again it thrust itself within you. Your flesh squirmed as it tried to adjust. A few tears rolled down your face and were brushed away. Whether this was an act of kindness on his part or not wishing to see them was unknown to you. The horrid sensation of something being pumped into you invaded. It stuck to your body, a remnant of its owners act. He withdrew and it still hurt. Clapping echoed around the room and someone yelled. The bed lifted slightly as your husband clambered off it and people trampled out of the room. "My Lady." Someone had you lift your hips and drag out something from beneath it. The white cloth was stained with blood, remanence of your maidenhead.

Once they all left Jason Lannister closed the door. You lay there, exhausted. Several candles were extinguished and the curtains pulled aside. The sudden darkness was a relief to you. The light barely shinning through the keyhole and under the door felt invasive. Jason poured a cup of mulled wine into a goblet for you. "I hope that was not too unpleasant for you." It was a small act of kindness, but the most you had received in months. And it soothed you like a mothers lullaby, however that sounded like. "I dunno. I'm so tired." The words heavily fell from your mouth. Jason seemed to deliberate on doing something, and then set the goblet down. "I will send in two of your ladies to wash you up. Good night." And you were mercifully left alone. Far from any noise or laugher, with blessed darkness enveloping you.

A hazy sky greeted you the next morning. Like someone had placed one of those sheer curtains across the sky. Showing the light, but blocking its full rays. You felt a body stir next to you as Lady Karina was peacefully dozing off next to you. From this day forth you would always have a bedmate, be it your husband or a lady. Deciding to cherish these few moment of solitude you crept to the window. A strong wind flew through as the latch was unclasped. A tumultuous storm brewed bellow. You watched as white foam curled against the socks only to be swept back. There was a wild beauty to weather when it raged. Like some other worldly power sweeping in. You closed your eyes, salty air stung your face and the ancient trees of the forest rustled in you ears. And then you heard your name. Not from inside, but beyond. It was outside the castle walls and sweetly it called to you. You had the bazar desire to leave the warm room and all its comforts for the outside. You wanted to go out there and be amongst those old swaying branches.

The door opened and the moment was lost. The wind, with great force, shut the window. The outside world was blocked. Lady Mari stood there with Lady Alana, who held a pitcher. A moment of great longing and the thought that something truly wonderous had been spoiled soured you. Dejected, you stepped away from the window. The sudden slam of iron did more than just shut a window. Lady Karina stirred before rolling over. "Is it morning My Lady?" With a yawn like a cat she rose. Lady Alana poured the warm water into a basin. You washed your face and two more ladies entered. Elinor was still not here. "You will have breakfast and then have tea with the ladies of prominent lords." Commanded Lady Mari. "What of Elinor?" All of them looked disconcerted. The realization that they knew something, and kept it from you, dawned. "Where. Is. She." You glared at each and every one of them. It was Lady Alana who broke. "Lord Lannister had her whipped and sent away." "What?!" You cried out. Lady Alana backed up. "We only just found out now, I swear!" Without wasting time you dashed towards the door. But Lady Mari was quicker and with alarming strength she clasped her hand on you. Iron in strength, your frantic attempts to escape were fruitless. You plead with her to let you go but her heart seemed unmoved. Lady Amara was unable to look upon the scene, Lady Karina simply hid her face in the sheets. "Go got your Lord!" "Lord Jason does not have time for such antics. You will get dressed and do as you are told!" With an almighty push you were sent tumbling to the floor. It was not hard for in your frantic state it knocked the air from your lungs. Tears of dismay stung your eyes. Even as Lady of Casterly Rock you were helpless. Elinor was somewhere far away by now and there was nothing you could do for her. You were just some helpless little girl with less power than you ever had before.

You made one last great effort. Even if your cause was lost you would never forgive yourself if you did not a least try. Elinor deserved that much. So after meeting the ladies, of which you remembered none of their names, you slipped away when Lady Mari was distracted. She had let her guard down, as you were good at masking your distress and entertained the ladies. To your knowledge Lady Karina had the ladies preoccupied. You raced down the halls as if someone was chasing you, the red tail of your dress flowing behind you all the while. You feared that at any moment hands were going to reach out and grasp you. Part of you felt embarrassed to have been caught up in such a predicament. You did not look remotely lady-like at the moment. The door to Jason Lannister's study loomed closer and your heart pounded in your chest. You were so close now! Just a few more steps and you would be there. Two guards stood vigilant at the door. Upon seeing their new lady race down the hall looking properly disheveled they were on alert. "Please, I need to speak to Lord Jason!" "Are we being invaded?" They looked on edge, likely expecting the roar of a dragon at any moment. "No. No. I need to speak to him now!" They gave way and the doors were opened.

Jason Lannister was not alone. Lady Reyne, with shimmering red locks flowing down her back, was perched on your husbands lap. The two of them turned when the doors opened. The three of you were frozen, like a picture. No one dared move. The pupils in Lady Reyne's eyes dilated in fear. "I wish to speak with my husband." You said curtly, making sure to put an emphasis on "husband". With a flushed face (you were glad she at least felt shame) Lady Reyne was quick to leave. You watched her retreating figure with cold eyes. "I was not informed you had a mistress." You might not love this man, but anger and shame coursed through you. You were being shamed right under your nose and not a single person thought you might want to know. "It is of little concern. You shall not see her." As if that was any consolation. Was she with him on your wedding night? Your hands clenched. Then you remembered the other blonde girl with the Lannister sisters. Now that you thought about it they did look familiar. "Is she the mother to your bastards?" The words came out harder than you intended. And in doing so you unwittingly pushed Jason Lannister. Immediately he got to his feet and stridden up to you. Backing up did no good. He was upon you in a moment and seized you in the same place Lady Mari did hours ago. It was so intense that your breath jolted in your throat. He hauled you to the door as if you were a misbehaving little girl and not his spouse. The doors were flung open and he shoved you through to the other side. "I expect, for your own sake, that you do not challenge me again in this manner." And with that, the doors slammed with an echoing boom.

"You little fool!" Cried Lady Mari. After that humiliating altercation you had fled to your rooms as you would not allow to witness you tears. You had cried in the merciful solitude of the bathroom, for once left alone. After the tears had subsided, you filled a bowl with cold water and pressed it to your face. The thought of anyone having knowledge of what had just transpired was too horrible to imagine. Lady Reyne was beautiful, there was no denying. You wondered for how long she had been his mistress. Was she the mother to his bastards? Did he have other mistresses? Humiliation stirred in your belly at the thought. Rage pulled at your insides. If you had your way, she would be out. You wanted to take everyone who had ever angered you and turn them right out of this house. But you had no power here. Less then even when you were a mere lady-in-waiting to the Queen. Once you might have gone to the Sept. But no such source would comfort you now. Those stone cold statues provided no comfort any longer. You walked to the window and opened its latches. The storm still prevailed bellow. There was hardly any light to see. You listened to the forest and its trees bellow. You wished your view opened out onto the forest instead of the water. There you might hear the whisperings better. Maybe if you took your cares to the forest you might alleviate some of your pain. They said the old Gods dwelled in the forests. They called them false Gods, heresy brought by the Northerners. Your great grandmother had been a Northerner. A Reed. You had hardly put thought to your northern heritage. In the light of being a Tyrell being the descendant of a minor house seemed ludicrous to dwell upon. But suddenly your thoughts went to that ancestor, long dead. She had likely worshiped the Old Gods. You remembered, once, when you looked amongst old things, you found a rusty silver pin. At the time you thought it inconsequential. But now that you thought back to it, its design was all too familiar to the Weirwood tree that resided in Kings Landing.

"Where is she!" Lady Mari's voice thundered through the halls. You heard the door to your room fly open and then hurrying footsteps coming to the bathing chamber. There was nowhere to hide as Lady Mari got closer. The door was nearly blasted off its hinges as an irate Lady Mari stormed in. Once she saw you her face became even redder. "Well, I would not have believed it. Sneaking off like that. I had to be informed-" She was still catching her breath. Your pride and fear meant that not a single tears escaped you, not once. As her shouts washed over you all you did was stand there. Numbness seemed the best course right now. Buried underneath your propriety as a lady.

Today the royal party had to leave. With Rhaenyra's forces advancing Prince Aemond intended to cross paths with his half-sister. Ellyn would be sent straight to the Red Keep. You were not sorry to see either of them go. For Prince Aemond's presence was a festering wound on your soul. His presence gnawed at your insides constantly. You mourned Ellyn's upcoming absence even less. The farther from you she was, the better. And you would never forgive her for Elinor. Not in a thousand years and if all of Westeros compelled you to do so. The day the royal party left was warm. You stood outside with your attendants as your husband warmly sent the Prince off. As they did so Ellyn took the opportunity to give one last insult before departing. "It is so sad." She gave a mock sigh. "And what do you mean by that." Your voice was hard as ice. "About Lady Reyne. I mean, everyone had heard of it by now. How you behaved when learning your husband is errant. Well, we can not always be lucky." A small sneer curved your features. "You are so sure." Ellyn raised an eyebrow. "Pardon?" "You are so sure your husband will remain faithful." You were pleased to see a light pink hue on her cheeks. "At least I do not have to contend with little bastards running about. And tell me, if you prove barren, how shall you ever bear it?" And with that last nasty statement, she turned on her heal and left.

Notes: Some of this was meant to be part of the last chapter I wrote but I felt it worked better here. Now some of you might be wondering why Ellyn no longer has any title before her name in the readers thoughts. As someone from the aristocracy Y/n would have held a great deal of respect with titles. The only people with no titles before their names are people Y/n really cares about (like Aemond when they were friends, Elinor and Helaena). And people she really dislikes, such as Ellyn. While she never liked Ellyn this time Y/n lost any remaining deference she might have once held. Then there is Tyshara. The reason Tyshara does not have a title before her name is because she is still very young (14 years) hence why the reader finds it odd to refer to her title in her head.

Also Ellyn is going to have to eat her words soon as there is a very Strong witch at Harrenhal, if you catch my drift👀. Though circumstance will be different.

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celiciaa · 5 months

Text

GILBERT VON OBSIDIAN EVENT STORY....

CHAPTER ONE.

Make me feel alive.

translations are not 100% accurate. expect mistakes.

MINORS DNI.

The chilly season is approaching as Christmas and the end of the year approaches and everyone's hearts are filled with excitement.

The scene that unfolds regularly once a month at the Obsidian Castle was still happening right before my eyes.

Gilbert: Hey, Walter—….can you stop dragging the little rabbit to your stunt?

Gilbert: She threatened me by saying, "If you don't go to the infirmary, you're banned from touching me"….you know?

Lord Gilbert, who was sitting on the bed, buttoning his shirt, and turned his red eye to me, clearly sulking.

Gilbert: I’ll kill you if you're close to the little rabbit.

Walter: If you'd just come in for your regular checkups, I wouldn't have to.

Walter: I can’t keep relying on Roderich most of the time. Even he has his limits.

Gilbert: Your regular checkups are too frequent. Besides, it's a hassle.

Walter: Your body needs a little extra caution. You just had a high fever the other day.

Gilbert: Everyone gets fevers. Even healthy people.

Walter: How many times do I have to tell you that you are prone to serious illnesses? Do you want to make your fiancée cry again?

Gilbert: Of course. I want to make her cry. A lot actually.

Emma: ….Lord Gilbert.

The other day, Gilbert seems off strangely, and when I touched him, unlike the usual coldness on his skin, it was rather warm,

I remember going to call for Mr. Walter in panic mode when I saw that he was not even breathing normally.

(I was really, really worried, but Lord Gilbert didn't seem to care at all.)

Gilbert: You’re exaggerating, Emma.

Emma: I couldn’t help but worry about you.

Gilbert: You poor thing.

(…No good. He is clearly enjoying himself.)

Walter: Roderich, your master is too evil.

Roderich: Doctor, he is also your master.

Walter: Dammit.

Gilbert: Hm, what’s that? You want a salary cut?

Walter: I am honored to serve such a wonderful master like you!

Gilbert: Hehe, I see.

(I'm getting used to this atmosphere lately.)

Lord Gilbert tends to avoid involving himself with people more than necessary.

However, he seems to have some patience/tolerance with his close aides, Mr. Roderich and Mr. Walter.

Their conversation was too dangerous to be considered friendly…but they often had a lively time together.

(Right! Since Lord Gilbert’s close aides are here.)

(And his regular check-up was completed successfully….)

Emma: Come to think of it, it's almost Lord Gilbert's birthday.

Emma: How do you celebrate it?

Walter and Roderich: …

Emma: Um…

(Huh…what’s with that atmosphere?)

Mr. Walter, who is usually so talkative kept his mouth shut, along with Mr. Roderich the moment I brought up the topic of his "birthday".

The expressions on their faces were so tense that it couldn’t be dismissed easily.

(Maybe I said something wrong.)

Emma: Could it be that birthdays don’t celebrate in obsidian?

Gilbert: No, regular families do celebrate it properly. Birthdays are special in any country.

Emma: Then what’s with this atmosphere…

Emma: You mentioned the other day that it was almost your birthday, didn’t you, Lord Gilbert?

Gilbert: Yeah. You seem to care about that sort of thing.

(So, it's not a taboo or something….)

Mr. Walter and Mr. Roderich both lowered their heads.

Only Lord Gilbert continued to smile as usual.

Gilbert: My birthday is something celebrated by those who want to die.

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#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen prince spoilers #ikepri jp #ikepri translations #ikemen series #cybird #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri gilbert

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jinx-jade · 1 year

Text

And they were roommates

For @the-coffee-fandom

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Marinette blinked up at her mother with teary eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sabine hummed in agreement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Both college students walked inside the elevator.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Damian Al Ghul."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Exactly!” Plagg grinned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Looking over the object, Marinette could only sigh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His hesitation was all the confirmation Marinette needed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I took it off."

"Why?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blue eyes met green with a glint of amusement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I aware, Dupain-Cheng.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The second guard chuckled.

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

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

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

Marinette sighed and led Damian into the temple.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Al Ghul.” Marinette groaned.

“What?”

“Just answer the question.” the bluenette huffed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

Damian gave a nod of his head in confirmation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"From the twentieth to the seventh."

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

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

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

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

"Yes, Dupain-Cheng?" Damian answered.

Green eyes met blue in amusement.

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

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

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

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

"So what if I am?" Damian inquired.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Damian hummed in acknowledgment.

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

"But your family will be attending them?"

"Yes, they will."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blue eyes met green with genuine curiosity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Have I, though?"

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

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

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

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

"Nope!" "No."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When the night ended the Waynes went back home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He takes a bite.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#maribat #damianette #MGI 2022 gift exchange

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rosiethedragongeek · 11 months

Text

Okay, so I said that I'd do that list of hcs about the gang dying, so here we are (also I am not responsible for any fics this spawns) (also these are all pretty limited bc there are So many ways that this could go down and I can only do so much lol) also this is an au where they beat Grimmel and keep the dragons bc I say it is

(i'm sorry <3)

HICCUP

Hiccup dies trying to make peace with another tribe

The conversation between the two leaders is private, and on the other chief's terms

Which we know he is willing to go for

They were able to restrain Toothless and kill Hiccup

Toothless dies fighting against the hordes of soldiers that this guy had waiting (because without Hiccup he can't fly away, and they weren't about to risk him getting back to Berk)

The other chief declares war with Hiccup's head on a spear and he gets it

Hiccup and Toothless have a shared funeral, sent to rest together, just like Hiccup would have wanted

They all put on a brave face at the funeral, and each of them said a few words

Astrid about what a strong leader he was, how he was selfless in his pursuit of peace

Snotlout spoke 'reluctantly' about what a great warrior and chief he was

The twins went on about the glorious battles that they wouldn't have been in without Hiccup

How he was actually a little unhinged like how they all road into battle with the red death for their first time on a dragon that hated them etc etc

Fishlegs talked about how gentle and kind he was, how they wouldn't be here in this unprecedented time of peace with dragons and most of the people around them without Hicucp's big heart

They all cried together after the funeral and fell asleep on Hiccup's floor

They never talked about that again

Astrid is inconsolable, she's not going to rest until she has that chief's head on her own spear

She lashes out at people a lot

She gets a tattoo of the strike class symbol on her shoulder to honor Hiccup

Their dragons all take the loss really hard

They won't leave Toothless' favorite spots for days after this

Just in case he comes back

Even though they know he won't

They're clearly grieving for a long time after that

Barf and Belch aren't as playful, Meatlug's appetite is almost gone, Hookfang more or less leaves Snotlout alone and doesn't flame up for a few months, Stormfly is unresponsive

They still do what they can for their riders though

Their battle strategies grow increasingly violent and desperate

Fishlegs spends hours pouring over Hiccup's notes in the Book of Dragons, on his desk, about the Dragon Eye, anything he can find

It feels like spending time with Hiccup if only for a minute

He also plants a tree over Hiccup's grave

Something that will last for years and years in memory of Hiccup

The twins decided to erect just a massive statue of Hiccup in the middle of Berk (mostly because they knew he would hate it)

They actually went out of their way to do stuff that they knew Hiccup would hate, leaving his things in the wrong places, rotten fish in his hut or smth in hopes that he would come back and haunt them

They cope w humor and Astrid hates it

But Fishlegs reminds her that they all deal with things in different ways

And she gives them a little more grace

Snotlout doesn't really talk about Hiccup much after he dies except to make ill-timed comments about how Hiccup would be rolling in his grave, or if Hiccup hadn't up and died he could've helped here but no

(But at night sometimes he sits at his grave and talks to him like he can hear him because maybe he can)

He and Astrid get in a massive fight over this (the jokes and comments) before they both start crying and Snotlout apologizes

he just misses him so

much

Fishlegs and the twins come in towards the end of this and they all reminisce about Hiccup

They all help Astrid with her their revenge mission

Fishlegs argues that if they can still achieve peace, it's worth it

Astrid and Snotlout are outraged at this, how could Fishlegs even consider attempting peace after what he did to their Hiccup

The twins are surprisingly quick to point out that, Hicucp would have wanted them to achieve peace before he took something else from Berk

Nothing is worth another one of their lives

But they also want to see revenge as much as everybody else, and really, what are the odds peace talks go their way??

They're all for blowing evil assholes up

Astrid is angry with all of them, mostly because they're right that Hiccup would want peace, and because she knows that peace isn't possible

But it makes her rethink what Hiccup would want them to do

He wouldn't want them to kill themselves looking for vengeance

They have a quiet moment altogether before they decide to slow down and think about what they're doing

When they come at the chief again, they are organized and cutthroat

He never stood a chance

Astrid takes up her position as chieftess and she leads in a way that she hopes would make Hiccup proud

But she has her friends by her side and they all keep each other right and take care of each other

I was gonna do all of them at once but this was really long lol

I'll probably reblog this with the other riders as I go and if you have ideas please lmk <3

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