#or makes her feel unworthy of fighting by his side

[hydrangeawrites]

I like the idea that Takasugi tries to give Matako as much of a “normal” life as he can, when he can. Like even though it was her choice to join the Kiheitai and he took her in because she had nowhere to go, part of him probably still feels responsible for taking away the rest of her life from her; he knows what it feels like to be a kid in a war and feels responsible for bringing her into the war he’s fighting, so he tries to make her feel like an ordinary girl when he can. 

He probably gifted her the pistols she carries everywhere (with Sakamoto’s help because he knows guns in a way Takasugi doesn't). He lets her pull him everywhere and take selfies with him even if he doesn’t understand the point (based on those two official arts). When she tells him space makes her feel uncomfortable, he orders the Kiheitai to dock on Earth as soon as possible under the excuse of needing to refuel the ship. He just...takes care of her, because she’s one of his people and he takes care of his own. 

#I just like the idea of dad/big brother Takasugi #but seriously he's so nice to her #he doesn't lead her on even when he definitely knows she has a thing for him #he never belittles her #or makes her feel unworthy of fighting by his side #he just accepts her #and takes care of her in spite of his baggage #gintama #takasugi shinsuke #kijima matako

[evilminji]

Oh shit :D ?

I just remembered! (Thank you, historical fantasy section!) But like? Serving and protecting The King, especially a HIGH KING, is quite literally not just an incredible honor... but it can sometimes be a person's Life Ambition?

Specificly a WORTHY king.

Perhaps they were denied in life. Perhaps they FAILED. And in their dying moments struggle with all they were to LIVE. To PROTECT. Perhaps the PREVIOUS king was a great and worthy ruler... but their heir is...

Unworthy.

Maybe they are born to an age without Rulers. Power shifting between hands in hidden halls. Unclear and murky. All they want is for their loyalty to MEAN something. For things to be SIMPLE.

The universe is large. The Infinite Realms? Unimaginably larger.

And Pariah Dark was a BASTARD.

Who would willingly swear to him? Fools! That's who! Every warrior soul worth ANYTHING gets as far AWAY from his Realm forsaken resting place as they can. Hides. Lest they be dragged in to his infernal, gods forsaken, cess pit of a so called "army"! *disgusted spitting noises*

But what does this mean? It means every trained FIGHTER... got the hell out of dodge. Oh, sure, a FEW refused. Like Pandora and her people. But most? The farthest side of NOWHERE, several layers down! Some still GOING! Better to be decried as cowards then have ANYTHING to do with THAT(said with loathing)!

It also means they weren't where Pariah could get to them when he woke. Couldn't help. Couldn't fight. Couldn't be commanded to kneel. Nothing. They removed themselves completely. Planned on CONTINUING to remove themselves. Preferably to the farthest reaches of forever, far beyond the bastard's gaze.

But! The whole REALM INFINITE felt it? When that... that hissing, acidic, malicious undertone? SLAMS back and away, like somebody's knocked a parasite from their backs. Replaced by coolness and starlight. Delicate balance and blood on your teeth. The pounding in your chest of HOPE.

It flutters so small across their backs, inside their chests. Washing away the old.

The King... feels tiny. Young.

.......what are they doing? Running like this. Hiding away like that will change anything. How long... when did...

There are so many of them now. A veritable army of souls, of all Ages and People's. Every armor and crest imaginable. They'd been so.. so REPULSED by Pariah... nothing else had mattered but to get AWAY. Where even ARE they? What YEAR is it? Does any of that matter?

The King.

Their Obsessions whisper. Loyalty. Service. Protection. Honor. You have left you post! Abandoned your DUTY! What are you DOING!?

They are AGHAST. They turn around at once. The King! How could they have ABANDONED the King!? Who is guarding him if they are all HERE?!

Himself!?

(Yes. Danny is fine. He is eating the "Thank You for keeping us all from dying to whatever the FUCK that was!" tamales Paulina's mom pushed into his arms on his way back home. He didn't even try arguing. He made eye contact and knew he would lose.)

(Why does he feel like something really, really bothersome is headed his way?)

It's UNACCEPTABLE. Unthinkable! The King? Unguarded? Where assassination attempts and nefarious PLOTS could occur?! What if someone tried to steal his eggs!? Or attacked him while his exoskeleton was molting!? They aren't entirely sure which species he is yet, but there are SO MANY NEFARIOUS PLOTS OUT THERE!!

*panicked honor guards*

Just? Imagine becoming king. And thinking "well, aside from the skeleton army I have to figure out, at least I don't have to manage anybody!" Only to *WABAM!* your ENTIRE GHOST COURT shows up like a week later. Turns out they were hiding from your predecessor.

You have a whole ass honor gaurd. Who REFUSE TO LEAVE YOUR SIDE. You have Chefs. Who WILL cry if you send them away. The Literal Best In The Multiverse are all following you around... YOU, a RANDOM TEENAGE, with Excited Shoujo Sparkles in their eyes... because you punched a jackass really, REALLY hard.

There is no way to make this stop. Your friends are laughing at you. The interior decorator wants you to look at swatches. What are swatches and why are you being harrased by them at 1am, you wonder? If you are Mean(tm) they throw themselves upon the floor and blame themselves for their Wicked, Evil, King-Upseting Ways and you can't even TELL if your being played here.

It's like being bullied by house elves. Or Miette.

Your parents are too excited by all the New Research (at least the reveal went well?) To SAVE THEIR SON, and your sister is HELPING THE ENEMY (Traitor!), so now you're being bullied into eating vegetables and studying more.

Then? THEN!! WHO SHOWS UP?! Like... five WEEKS late?! The Justice League. Gee! GREAT RESPONSE TIME, GUYS! Reeeal snappy! But ya, JUST missed the guy!

.......YES HES BEING SARCASTIC!!!

@hdgnj @stealingyourbones

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt

[aerynwrites]

Worthy

Gale x Fem!Reader/Tav

A/N: based on this request! I hope you enjoy this nonny (and everyone else!)

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Self-Esteem Issues, insecurity, reader feels unworthy of Gale, comparisons to Mystra, emotional hurt/comfort, angst, fluff at the end, Gale is a sweetheart.

*Not beta read, apologies for any grammatical or blatant errors*

The stars offer you no solace tonight. 

Instead their gentle twinkling light seems only to mock you, taking you back to the memory Gale shared with you from his meeting with her. 

Mystra. 

The goddess who has held so much of Gale’s past in her hands and apparently still seems to have him in her grasp. 

Your self worth has always been something you’ve struggled with, especially in relationships. So, when Gale showed interest in you all those weeks ago you had a hard time accepting it, especially when you found out about his past with the goddess. 

But you’d started to love past that. As each day with Gale he proved his love for you more and more, with each little action or sweet word. He told you of the betrayal he faced at Mystras hand, how he had been cast aside and now with the orb in his chest…

You shake your head. 

All of that has shattered now. That tiny voice in your head coming back full force after your visit to Mystra’s shrine. After Gale had seemed so excited about the prospect of earning his goddess’ forgiveness by giving her the crown. 

You have to fight the tears that burn at the back of your eyes. 

Even now, Gale is off at Sorcerers' Sundries trying to learn more about the crown, asking Rolan if there are any more tomes he may have on hand.

That little voice is loud tonight. Louder than it’s ever been as you gaze at the stars from the balcony of your shared room at the Elfsong. Telling you that you were right all along. You’re not worthy of a man like Gale. 

How can you be? How can you ever compare to a goddess? 

The tears finally slip down your cheeks then, unable to contain the emotions that have been building in your chest. 

And as if the goddess herself wants to torment you, it’s at that same moment that the door to your room creaks open, Gales' excited voice drifting through the air. 

“You’ll never believe what I was able to find at Sorcerous Sundries,” he says happily, and you hear him set something down somewhere behind you as you try to wipe fruitlessly at your tears. 

You can hear Gale approach where you're standing, and you turn your face away just as he comes up to your side. 

“Rolan truly is a visionary, he was the one able to point me in the direction of-“ 

A particularly harsh sniffle from you makes Gale stop in his tracks, brows furrowing in concern. 

“What’s wrong, my love? Are you alright?” He asks, reaching out to wrap an arm around your waist, hand settling on your hip. 

Just another reminder of where you feel you fall short of Mystra. 

You step out of his embrace, missing the way his face further crumples, confused at your withdrawn state. 

Gale is not blind, nor is he deaf or inattentive. He knows of your struggles when it comes to relationships and your own self image, you’ve told him as much. But things were good - you’ve both made great strides when it comes to your relationship. 

So why are you pulling away? 

You shake your head, still wiping at the tears that won’t stop. “I’m fine, Gale.” 

He takes a step closer to you, frowning deeper when you take a step back. “Clearly not,” he says gently. “Please, you know you can confide in me, as I have you. Talk to me, my love.” 

Finally, you turn to look at him fully, face hot and eyes wet with tears. 

“Will you go back to her?” You finally ask, voice cracking through the lump in your throat. 

Gale looks puzzled. “I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean.” 

You take a deep breath, chest heaving. “To Mystra, Gale. Are you-“ your words break as you fight back a sob. “She asked for the crown in return for removing the orb, correct?” 

“Yes, but I have yet to see why that is causing you such upset-“ 

“Because she’s a goddess!” You cry, tears coming down harder than before. “She’s offering you forgiveness, for you to be back in her good graces and I-“ a sob interrupts your words. “Why would you ever stay with me when you can go back to her? Why do you love me?” 

Gale’s lips part in surprise, eyes widening as it finally settles in why you’re upset. And if you could see through your tears, you would see the heartbreak that displays itself on his face. 

“She’s beautiful,” you continue, “and I-I’m this!” You gesture at yourself, heart threatening to snap in two. 

How did you ever think he would stay? 

You’re just about to turn and leave the balcony, leave the room in an effort to leave before he can prove you right. But before you can escape two warm hands cup your face, thumbs wiping at the tears that still cling to your cheeks. 

“Put those vile thoughts from your mind. You are a sight to behold, more beautiful than any god or goddess,” Gale whispers, brown eyes searching your own as he pulls you close. “Mystra may still be my goddess but that is all,” he says firmly. 

“I did agree to bring her the crown. But only so she could take this orb from my chest. Forgiveness be damned. I would not care if she took the crown and never looked upon me again,” he admits, thumbs moving down to trace gently over your lips. 

“I could not bear the thought of living the rest of my life with you with that threat looming over us. I agreed for you. For us.” 

His words are so full of conviction as he whispers them into the air between you, his lips almost brushing yours from how close he stands. You want to believe him, and in truth you do. You do believe him, because he’s shown you time and time again that he chooses you over anything. He even chose you over the crown, the chance at godhood. 

Yet that voice is still there, even if it’s quieter than before. 

“But…why?” you ask again, voice matching his in a whisper. “Why do you choose me when you’re worthy of so much…more.” 

Gale presses his forehead to your own, your noses bumping together as his lips brush your cheek. 

“If anyone is unworthy in this situation, it is me,” he tells you softly. “A man fallen from the grace of the gods. I have failed myself and you in more ways than one and yet you still remain by my side. Please…” His lips brush yours once more. “Let me do the same for you. Don’t push me away.” 

Before you can respond, Gale presses his lips to yours, arms moving to slide around your waist as he pulls you close. 

This time you don’t stop him. 

This time you stay. You let him kiss you and let him embrace you as he pours his love into you. 

Only when he pulls away do you finally find words. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

Gale's lips tilt up in a small smile as he shakes his head. “Do not apologize to me, my love. Just know that I love you to the ends of the universe, and hold that love in your heart whenever those thoughts of doubt try to creep back in.” 

You nod, moving to wrap your arms around him as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck. “I love you too.” 

Gale hums low in his chest as he holds you tighter, swaying gently in the cool night air of the balcony. 

And when you pull away just enough to look up at the stars…you swear they shine just a bit brighter than before.

#Gale x reader #gale dekarios x reader #bg3 gale x reaer #bg3 x reader #gale dekarios #bg3

[writingforstraykids]

Make some room

Pairing: Chanlix x femReader

Word Count: 604

Summary: After a long day, all you want is to cuddle up with your husband. Until your other husband comes along, wanting the same thing.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, cuddles, husband!chan, husband!felix, domestic stuff

A/N:@miuracha💕

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

You relax deeper into your husband's arms, smiling as he fondles down your arms and intertwines your hands on your stomach. You can feel his ring against your hand, once more reminded that this is real. You, feeling like a nobody and unworthy of love your whole life, are married to Chan. He plants soft kisses on your hair and shoulder, cuddling you even closer as you both don't really pay attention to the movie but to your shared comfort. 

"Did Lixie say when he'll be back?" you ask curiously. 

"Why am I not enough?" Chan asks, and you can practically hear him pout. 

"Channie, angel," you laugh and roll your eyes playfully. "I'm just wondering. You know how much I love having you both home." 

"I know, I know," he giggles and kisses your cheek fondly. "He said he wouldn't take too long today, whatever that's supposed to mean." 

"Definitely earlier than when you say that," you tease him, and now it's Chan's turn to roll his eyes. 

"Charming, baby girl," he laughs. No matter how much he pretends to be bothered by your teasing, both of your heads shoot up at the sound of the front door opening. 

Felix drags himself into the apartment and beams at the sight of you both. "Look at you two," he smiles and immediately joins you on the floor, practically throwing himself on top of you. 

"Someone's clingy," you giggle. 

"Don't judge me, missed you two," he explains himself tiredly and Chan reaches down to ruffle his hair adoringly. 

"Hey, hubby," he smirks, and Felix hums softly. "Had a good day?"

"Was alright," he mutters and glances up at you. "Make some room? Wanna cuddle too," he pouts. 

You giggle before scooting to the side a little and making space for him. Chan laughs as Felix cuddles right into him, grabbing your hand. "Such a baby." 

"I'm the youngest, fuck off," he grins and pokes your side. 

"No fighting, you two," Chan smirks amused. "You both want cuddles; I have enough love and space for both of you."

Felix giggles and leans over, stealing a kiss from you. "My beautiful Y/nnie," he says and fondles your hair. "You look so cute in my sweater." 

"Thanks," you mumble, blushing heavily at the compliment. You're still so easily flustered with them that it's ridiculous. 

"Look at her blushing," Felix giggles, and Chan glances down at you, cooing at you. 

"It's so easy to make you blush, baby," he giggles delightedly. 

"Fuck off, both of you," you protest half-heartedly, melting on the inside at how excited they get about making you blush. 

"We love you too, cutie," Felix smirks before attacking you with kisses all over your face. 

You try to get away, giggling and yelping in protest as Chan holds you back with a whine. "No leaving, baby girl," he states. "Felix only got here; I still wanna cuddle my babies." 

"Fucks sake, I'm married to two clingy dumbasses," you sigh playfully, annoyed, but cuddle right back into him. You pull Felix into your hug and kiss his fluffy blonde hair. "Glad you're back home." 

"Me too," he smiles. 

Chan kisses both of your heads and squeezes you tightly. "I love you two, but shut up now; I don't wanna miss the movie." 

"As if you paid attention so far," you snort at him but do as he says. 

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

A comfortable silence settles in the room between the three of you, and Felix is soon deep asleep in your arms. You have never felt as safe as you do with them, and you wouldn't trade a second.

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@kai-lee08 @atinyniki @sona1800 @mal-lunar-28 @aaasia111 @galaxycatdrawz @kthstrawberryshortcake @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @malfoygalaxies@channieaddict

#stray kids #skz #skz drabble #chan #chan drabble #felix #felix drabble #chanlix #chanlix drabble #chanlix x reader #chan x reader #felix x reader #poly!skz #poly!stray kids #chan fluff #felix fluff #chanlix fluff #requests open

[pterodactylterrace]

“The Blacks won because it’s Rhaenyra’s bloodline that continues on.”

Ok, first of all, Aegon II made Aegon III his heir. Rhaenyra was dragon chow by then. Rhaenyra wanted the iron throne more than anything else, and she only held power for 6 months before the small folk had enough of her bullshit. Six months. She managed to rule for half a year before she was overthrown, not by a usurper, but by her own people. Clearly, not a good ruler if you can’t even make it a year without getting chased out of your castle.

Second, Rhaenyra’s bloodline managed to fumble the ball two feet from the finish line. It started with Aegon the Unworthy and it ended with the mad king being overthrown just before the long night. Just one more generation was all they needed to last, and they fucked everything up so bad it put the entire world of men at risk. That… that takes skill. You have to actively TRY to fuck up that much.

After the conquest, there was noted to be one “good” king, and that was Jaehaerys. Between conquest and dance, Jaehaerys was noted as being a good, wise king. Aenys managed to have a mob trap his oldest two children in a distant castle right before he died. Then Maegor stepped in. He may have been decent if it weren’t for the brain damage. Most of the things he did before the battle on the hill were either rumors or just not that bad. He was also very against Kinslaying. Imo, one of the worst things he did was punish everyone involved in the Kinslaying in The Eyrie. Seems kind of strange he would dole out such a harsh punishment only to then kill his nephew in a very one sided dragon battle. That was the first thing he did after he woke up, though. Considering he had such a drastic change in personality, we can’t say how his rule would have been otherwise.

After Maegor’s death, Jaehaerys steps in. You know what made him a good, worthy king? Not the fact that he was a male, or could fight, or held the bloodline, or even that he rode the bronze fury. It was because he listened to the council of his queen. Alysanne was the real MVP of his reign. She did more for women’s rights than any other queen. She listened to her people. That is the mark of a good ruler. Walk softly, but carry a big stick. Know when to speak and when to listen.

People who know they have power and control don’t need to constantly remind others. They know. It’s not necessary to maim or murder people for speaking the truth, yet Viserys and Rhaenyra do just that.

When Saera majorly fucked up, they handled it. Not the way Alysanne wanted, by the way. She was sent to apprentice with the Silent Sisters just for sleeping with men while not married. Yet Rhaenyra can have 3 obvious bastards, insult the house with the largest naval force and prove to the entire kingdom that her words mean nothing, and Viserys still declares anyone who calls the strong boys bastards would lose their tongue.

Sorry, what? The Valaryons are one of the richest houses in the realm. They control most of the naval fleet. Maybe don’t make their son a cuckold?

“They had an open marriage!”

NO ONE ELSE KNOWS THAT. To the court and the small folk, Rhaenyra promised to be faithful to Laenor in front of the eyes of the gods, and she very obviously didn’t keep that vow. Why should they trust anything she says as Queen if she can’t even do something as simple as not birthing bastards? That’s what most people don’t realize in the bastard debate.

Whether you can prove it or not, the strong boys don’t look like either of their alleged parents. Like, at all. Even Aegon’s drunk ass could tell shit didn’t add up. Commoners are not going to be any different. They are going to know, and whether they can say it or not, it will still affect how they feel towards her. Can’t keep your marriage vows, why should I believe that you have my best interest at heart?

Because she doesn’t. She is a horrible ruler that lasted less than a year before the small folk rose up and drove her out. She feasted while they starved. It’s that self centered mentality that taints the bloodline and leads to The Unworthy.

Clearly no one learned about not having bastards, and this mofo decided to legitimize them on his death bed. Wasn’t going to be his problem, now was it? He died, someone else has to clean up his mess.

Hmm, not knowing how to clean up your own bastard mess, sounds familiar… oh, like Rhaenyra forcing her father to crawl from his death bed to make sure no one said mean (and true) things about her.

So I’m sorry, what were people saying about her being a good ruler? ‘Cause everywhere I look, I see another reason she should not have ascended the throne.

#hotd critical #hotd thoughts #fire and blood spoilers #anti rhaenyra targaryen #anti team black

[folkloresthings]

Hello 👋 kudos to your 1k! I was browsing through the Fernando Alonso tag and I love the way you write him! Can we have Fernando Alonso (REJECTED as unworthy by parents because of the age gap etc.) blurb?

thank you thank you! always a sucker for fernando age gap

ACCEPT IT. ❨ fernando alonso x reader ❩

for a whole year, you didn’t tell your family about fernando. thankfully, none of them had social media, so there was no spoiling your relationship. fernando asked, time and time again, to meet your parents and every time you conjured some kind of stupid excuse.

but you knew they’d never understand. fernando was sixteen years older than you, but you’d known from the first date that he was the one for you. the age difference didn’t matter, to either of you. all that mattered was you had each other. but to your parents, it wasn’t quite so simple.

in a way, you were fine with keeping your boyfriend a secret from them. you knew it couldn’t go on forever, but you wanted the peace just a little longer. that was, until your parents decided to show up at your door, completely unannounced.

“surprise!” they exclaimed, stood on the other side of your apartment door. you freeze, knuckles turning white around their grip on the handle. fernando’s only a few feet away in the kitchen, perking up when he hears the guests. “we were passing through town and thought we would pop in — since we haven’t seen you in so long.”

before you could say a word, or try to shut the door in your mother’s face, fernando was right behind you, a hand on your waist.

“hello,” he greets, looking between them and you. you want the ground to swallow you up. “mr and mrs y/l/n, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

extending his hand past you, your father hesitantly takes it, sharing quizzical looks with your mother as they stepped into the apartment. the room was tense, waiting in anticipation for them to put two and two together.

“and who’s this…?” your mother eventually asks, your fathers eyes glued to fernando’s hand near your hip.

“this is fernando. my… boyfriend.”

jesus, if there was every a moment that you wanted to erase from your brain, it was the look that crossed both your parents’ faces in that moment. your heart broke for fernando, knowing how he wanted to make a good impression on your parents.

“y/n—”

“seriously, him?”

your eyes rolled, squeezing fernando’s arm as you step in front of him, a human barrier between him and the wrath of your parents. “don’t be like this, please. i love him—”

“he’s practically my age!” your father exclaimed, rage boiling in him. you felt yourself growing defensive, sick with how they were talking about fernando like he wasn’t even there. “no, y/n. i forbid it.”

“dad—” your eyes widen, feeling fernando slink back from you. this isn’t his fight, and he knows it. he doesn’t know who you’ll pick, despite all of his hope that he’ll be your first choice.

“he’s old enough to be your father, y/n!” your mother interjects, her tone slightly less vicious than your dad’s. “do you really think this can work?”

“yes!” you suddenly exclaim, voice stern and sure. all three look at you, surprised at your stance on the situation. “he’s treated me better than either of you ever have. i’m happy with him — and it’s been working for over a year. i didn’t tell you because i knew you’d freak out like this. i’ve told you that i love him, and if you can’t accept that, you need to leave.”

your parents stare, wide—eyed, and fernando looks just as surprised (though with a little more of a smile). in fact, you’re a little shocked at yourself.

“what on earth are you talking about?”

“get out. this is as much fernando’s apartment as it is mine. it’s simple — you’re either okay with that, or you leave.”

a few minutes and one stare—down later, the door is closed behind your parents and you’re falling into fernando’s arms, relief overtaking you.

“you didn’t have to do that,” he mumbles into your hair, speaking for the first time in fifteen minutes.

“yes, i did,” you sigh, gazing up at him with heavy lids. “i meant it. i love you, and i’m not giving that up just because they don’t approve. screw them, okay? we don’t need them.”

fernando smiles, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. you had each other, and that was enough.

#🍾 ﹐ becca hits 1k! #🌙 ﹐ drabbles. #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #fernando alonso drabble #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso #fernando alonso instagram au

[ivystoryweaver]

Happy New Year, Jake

Happy Rosh Hashanah to the Moon Knight system

I haven't written enough for Jake, so he gets an impromptu story this lovely Rosh Hashanah (New Year).

Pairing: Jake Lockley x gn!reader

Word Count: 820

Content: Fluff, slight feelings of unworthiness, mentions of food, alters mentioned, brief reference to past trauma, mentions of religion and religious practices, not beta'd

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

You asked Marc and Steven if you could do this.

Celebrate something with Jake.

Marc had some happy memories of holidays - Passover meals - finding the afikomen and getting a few dollars for it. The food, the wine, the prayers, the traditions.

Hanukkah wasn't quite as big of a holiday, but there were presents and dreidel to play and latkes to eat.

There were candles to light and services to attend.

Then, one day, there was no more happiness.

Steven's memories were spotty at best, but they were happy. His heart was rooted in the traditions of those before him.

But Jake had none of this. He was a shadow - a creature of the night. He had only been in your life for less than a year.

Jake was a difficult man to get to know. He preferred to keep to himself, but he was soft for you - that, he could not fight.

You didn't want to ambush him, or even surprise him. You asked his permission.

"Could...do you think we could have a little dinner for New Year's?" You asked him one night, moonlight spilling across the bed as you drew circles on his bare chest with your fingertips.

"New Year's?" He gruffed out, confused. "In September?"

"Rosh Hashanah," you supplied. "You know...the new year. If you want. I wanted to make you dinner - just something nice."

Jake's calloused hands scratched lightly down the curve of your back. "Not sure, mi vida. Better ask - "

"I did," you interrupted. "Marc's not ready yet and Steven is okay skipping this year - at least the dinner so you and I can share it. Only if that's okay with you. It doesn't have to be anything you're uncomfortable with."

The stubble of his chin tickled the skin of your cheek as he whispered back and forth with you.

"Okay. Yeah. I...I don't know exactly what I'm supposed to do, but...sure."

You were excited, having hoped Jake wouldn't turn you down.

You prepared a savory meal - doing most of the work the night before. You set an elegant yet simple table, with your best dishes, a tablecloth and your grandmother's silver.

A round challah loaf sat on her silver serving platter. You prepared apples and honey to symbolize the hope for a sweet year. You also served pomegranates and some vegetables. You made some brisket for Marc to eat later. Wine glasses and water glasses were set appropriately. You were ready.

You put the finishing touches on the table just as Jake emerged from your bedroom, straightening his tie. Jake was no stranger to wearing a tie or looking absolutely dashing at any given moment.

But this was something else. Instead of his typical leather jacket, he wore a dark suit jacket. Noticing your blatant stare, he ran a hand over the stubble of his jaw.

"I think this is like a...proper dinner," he attempted, sounding a little like Steven. "This too much?"

"Jake," you breathed, floating toward him. "You look incredible." Placing your hands on his muscled chest, you leaned in and brushed your lips tenderly over his.

"Shana Tovah," you wished him, motioning for him to have a seat at the table. But he pulled you back to his side, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple.

As you sat down to enjoy your holiday meal, your heart burned within your chest each time Jake seemed uncertain about what exactly to do. The last thing you wanted was make him uncomfortable, or make him somehow feel less...Jewish? Than Steven or Marc.

You only desired for him to be who he was. But you wanted him to feel a part of his history too, if he was comfortable.

"You okay?" You quietly asked, watching as he dipped his apple slice into the honey.

He paused, his warm brown eyes going wide. "Did I do something wrong? Is there like a prayer?"

"Jake, you can't do anything wrong. This is for you. Just...be with me." You reached across the table and squeezed his hand, watching as his shoulders relaxed.

"This is nice, baby," he spoke up after a few minutes. Leaning in, he made sure to catch your eye. "It's really nice. Thank you...for thinking of me."

You smiled warmly. "Of course, I'm always thinking of you."

You shared your special meal and some traditions together, feeling so warm inside and so grateful for this man of yours. When you got up from the table, he pulled you close and told you how amazing you looked.

"Gotta dress up like this again so I can take you out," he roughly whispered against your ear while holding you against him.

Easing back, you brushed your fingers along his jaw. "You mean 'take me out' a date, right? And not...your nighttime job?" You teased.

"Very funny," he mocked, scooping you up into a hug, where you stayed for a while, content in his arms.

"Happy new year, baby," he whispered, feeling like he belonged.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#moon knight #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #holiday fic #rosh hashanah #new year #happy new year #steven grant #marc spector #moon knight system #moon knight fic #jewish holidays #oscar isaac characters

[astarionslittlejuicebox]

Reflected in Someone's Eyes (Part 2)

Author: @astarionslittlejuicebox

Imagine: Astario’s POV after he waits to see what the reader has been working so diligently on since the mirror conversation.

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: Fluff, embarrassment, feelings of unworthiness, mentions of blood/vampires/etc, minor spoilers, suggestive themes 

Word Count: 1243

Side Notes: E/C = Eye color, Y/N = your name, Y/R = your race, H/C = hair color

Part One

“Who knows? Only time will tell.” Y/N’s words rang through his head after that night. Quite a bit of events had happened to the party since the conversation Astarion had with Y/N that night, but the anticipation of what she had to show him was eating him alive. Tonight marked night three since he stumbled upon her engrossed in her mysterious book, and, after everyone had gone to bed for the night, Astarion waltzed his way towards his favorite tasty treat. She appeared as though she was waiting for him as she gave him a smile when he arrived at her tent entrance. 

“Goodie. You came. I finished my surprise.” The prideful smile on her face made Astarion’s undead heart skip a beat. He cocked an eyebrow at her whilst he spoke.

“Oh? Well, don’t keep me waiting darling. Let’s see what dark fantasies you’ve been dreaming of in that book.” Astarion held his hand out expectantly, but he was surprised when Y/N put a single sheet of paper from the book into his hand.

“It’s not perfect. It seems to be hard to capture the exact essence of your appearance.” Her words were barely a whisper as he looked at the intricate sketch of himself. He marveled at the care this woman had taken to try and capture even the smallest detail of his hair. “You are quite the frustrating subject to capture using pencils though.” He glanced from the picture to look at her, but she was looking at the piece of art in his hand. “You see, your hair at the top of your head lies a certain kind of way, and I have been trying ceaselessly to make sure I got that part right. Alas, I have done the best I could do, but it’s far from perfect.”

“Well, it is quite hard to capture perfection.” Astarion spoke softly as he softly looked at the woman beside him. He admired how her H/C was falling out of the bun, and how her eyes shone with a sense of accomplishment when she looked at her handiwork in his hands. 

“If I were back home, I would ask you to sit still long enough for me to try and paint a portrait of you.” Astarion knows his face gave away his shock. 

“My, my, my, my tasty little treat is also an artist. Who knew?” Even Astarion was shocked by the softness in his voice as he took a good look at his traveling companion. The days of travel had taken a toll on her, and the evidence was clear on her face. The long days and short nights had made her bright eyes shine just a little duller; the fight with the Githyanki had also left her with a few new cuts and bruises. She was not the same person he had held a dagger to her throat all those days ago, nor was Astarion the same person that he was when he met her.

“I do love art.” Y/N said, bringing Astarion back to reality. “I also love exploring new methods and stroke styles of the brush to see what effects it has with the paint. I’d honestly love to give painting you an attempt. If I hate it, then we shall invest in some gold for you to have a portrait done.” Astarion could see the genuine enthusiasm on his companion’s face, and he felt sick to his stomach. How could it be that a woman whom he was bedding for solely protection be so caring for him?

That’s right, Astarion thought, she has no idea that was my sole intention. But as the pale elf engraved the look of admiration on Y/N’s face and the gratefulness of such a sweet gesture somewhere deep in his mind, he felt guilty. He certainly didn’t deserve her kindness.

“Perhaps I may hold you up to that statement, darling.” The sincere words left his mouth. He wasn’t afraid to admit that he would love to have a painting of himself so he can see just how much 200 years of Cazador has affected his appearance. She gave him a heartwarming smile, but it faltered a bit as she looked over his face. 

“Why do you look like you’re guilty of something?” Her words made him frown slightly more than he had been previously. 

“Guilty? My darling the only thing I’m guilty of is looking too damn fine for you to capture on paper.” He casually said, but the pang of guilt still hung heavy on his chest. Astarion gave her his signature smile as he asked her if he could keep the picture she drew of him. She gave him a beautiful smile in response. 

“Absolutely. If I want to have a keepsake of you, I’ll just draw another one,” She gave him a wink, and Astarion chuckled. “I know it’s not as good as a mirror, but at least now you can see what your face kind of looks like.” 

“It does give me a good idea.” Astarion folded the paper and put it in his pocket, but he really didn’t want to fold the picture. He didn’t want to admit to Y/N how much her effort to give him a visual of himself touched his heart. He didn’t deserve this, but she is so selfless and willing to give him everything: her time, her art, her body, and her blood. “I shall see you later, my darling, for my nightly taste?” She gave him a small nod. 

“Unless you’d rather have some now?” Astarion smirked at her.

“Why not both?” He asked and she chuckled. “Kidding. But, I will take my taste now.” After he drank from her, he bid her good night. As he went to leave her tent, he turned back and looked at her.

“Thank you, again, Y/N. You continue to surprise me.” Afterward, he left her tent to go hunt for a delicious meal.

But that night, as Astarion lay in his bedroll, he took the picture out again to study it. He could see evidence of where Y/N had erased and redrew the top of his hair many times, and he could see she also struggled to get his lips just right. Moisture accumulated and fell from the corners of his eyes and onto the empty space around his portrait. Y/N was no professional artist, but she had attempted to sketch his portrait. She could’ve hidden it away too, kept it to herself until she perfected the very features she wanted to get right, but here her picture sits in his hands—fresh and far from the perfect picture. The pale elf wiped the water droplets off of the paper as he allowed himself to smile. Two hundred years of pain and torture, and this woman’s work over the last three days has sent an electric shock into Astarion’s chest; a shock that just might be enough to restart his heart. However, now that Astarion knew of his tasty friend’s talents, perhaps he could get her to draw more of him? The scars on his back had begun to weigh heavily on his mind since the night Y/N and Astarion shared. Maybe she would be willing to put on paper what secrets the scars on his back hold? But, for now, Astarion refolds the paper and puts it in the inside pocket of his backpack. He wouldn’t want anything to happen to the picture.

#astarion imagine #astarion fluff #astarion x reader #baldursgate3 #baldursgate3imagine

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Today I come with a distressing idea.

What do you think of a polyamorous relationship (Thor x reader x Lü Bù or Hades x reader x Qín Shî Huáng) where they were already in a relationship and decided to include her because there was romantic and sexual tension, but for a while now she has felt them apart?

So, not wanting to bother them (feeling unworthy of being "the third option") she walks away and leaves, by the time they want to know what's going on, boom! It turns out that in the time he was gone we married someone else, a marriage of convenience.

(Maybe we are royalty, an important lady or something to make the arranged marriage work)

No happy ending, no consolation, just sadness on both sides; They understanding that they were wrong to forget that there were three of them (not anymore, there were two again) and we were living a sad and dissatisfied married life in the shadow of a husband married to his job (he doesn't cheat on us or treat us badly, but there is no love or affection)

PS: I missed you so much!

-Looking back on it now, had you known this marriage you had agreed to enter would be so cold, so loveless, maybe you would have waited for your previous partners.

-You were the third to join Hades and Qin Shi Huang, who started dating shortly after everyone had been brought back to life, as the two bonded first as friends, then grew into something more.

-You were friends with both of them, Hades whom you had known for years, being a goddess yourself, and QSH found you and he never left, but according to Hades, that’s how he was.

-After several months of playful smirks and winks, longing glances, and such obnoxious sexual tension that even Zeus was annoyed, you joined their couple.

-For a while, you felt so happy being with them, you felt like the most beautiful woman because of the way they treated you, all while falling more and more in love with each other at the same time.

-That’s when the whispers started, rumors and cruel words floating all around you, on how happy they were with each other, and you were just in the way. They were just jealous, wanting to be in your place, so they worked hard to sow doubt into your mind.

-It worked.

-You started shying away a bit from them, constantly questioning if they were happy with you being there with them, but unlike you, as this was serious to you, they just laughed off your concerns, thinking you were being silly.

-They weren’t laughing when you finally left, not wanting to get in the way any longer.

-They tried to plead with you, to talk to you, wanting to talk this out, now taking your fears seriously as they had heard others, those jealous pricks, and what they had been saying.

-You didn’t want to believe them, your heart was aching from the pain of them not believing you, and you lashed out, telling them that relationships were built on communication and trust!

-That’s why you married another god, a marriage of convenience for the both of you, there were no pretty words, no late-night talks, no presents or thoughtful surprises, and no love. It was like you were still alone, this time with a ring on your finger and a stranger in the next room over.

-Hades and QSH regretted every moment they had laughed off your fears, not taking them seriously, as they had lost you. You fled from them because you didn’t’ trust them, into the arms of another man who didn’t even love you like how you should be love.

-Hades buried himself in his work, trying to drown out his sorrow, which in turn led to more fights with QSH, as he was never home, and they never spent any time together.

-They realized they were losing each other because they lost you, and without you to guide them, they feared their end would soon be approaching.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror hades #ror qin shi huang

[wellwhatnowlove]

“He looks down at his feet, searching for words. When he finds them, he looks up at me with the raw emotion of his father, but without the anger or the pain. “Mother, your inheritance was guilt. Father’s was surrender. Because of you, because of Father, mine is struggle. That is better than guilt. It is better than surrender. I do not blame you. I thank you. You never pretended the world wasn’t broken, even when a broken world favored you.”

Light Bringer, pg.144

I GOT TO THINKIN TODAY ABOUT WHAT PAX SAID ABOUT HIS PARENTS’ INHERITANCE AND I HAD A REVELATION. okay sorry VERY LONG WINDED ESSAY BELOW. (Light Bringer spoilers too)

If Darrow’s inheritance has always been surrender and Virginia’s has always been guilt, then Light Bringer is a study in how they’ve swapped those burdens, and both grew immensely because of it. Virginia is forced to face the reality of surrender to keep Mars from falling. She must learn to sacrifice lives on an unimaginable scale. She literally has to surrender Phobos in order to hold Mars and save lives from a bloody battle over pride. She routinely seeks out the injured and dying to confront those she sacrifices. It’s heart breaking and hard to read at times, but not once did she not feel like the character we grew to love. She stays true to herself while mentioning multiple times that she now understands Darrow’s plight more than ever from the last decade.

Then on the flip side, Darrow is forced to reckon with his insurmountable guilt when he is put on trial before the daughters in the rim to answer for betraying them in order to secure a victory for the core rising/republic. He talks about how that guilt put a wedge between him and his family. That guilt made him feel unworthy of love, and, therefore, unable to properly express his love to those he would give everything for. This mirrors Virginia’s past struggle with one particularly potent example being her inability to believe that Darrow could love her after he reveals his true identity as a red in the tunnel under Lykos at the end of Golden Son. She says

“They are my family!” she shouts, face collapsing into grief. “My father hanged your wife. He hanged her. How can you even look at me?”

I think it’s this guilt (and probably some feelings of utter betrayal, panic, and overwhelm) that led her to leave Darrow in that tunnel and indirectly led him into the Jackal’s trap. Which I’m sure she also feels immense guilt for. But I think a large part of her journey off page and into morning star is her coming to terms with that guilt. In confronting it she learns to be vulnerable with Darrow again and comes to accept that he loves her despite the insane complexity of their history. This culminating with her leaning into her understanding of her part in the society and realizing that it puts her in a place to make a true change. All of this accomplished with an education in immense humility, flexibility, and compromise. Which is the lesson Darrow grapples with and I think truly leans into throughout this book. In a way, he is forced to reckon with how his guilt drove him away from Virginia and Pax and even veered him away from Eo’s dream.

I think on a character based level, this will exponentially strengthen their relationship when (please please Pierce) they finally reunite, and will make them a more formidable pair than even before. They now understand each others struggles in such intimate ways that idk if anyone can stop these two.

Then, on a larger plot based level it speaks to the larger themes of resilience, understanding and the fight for humanity. Virginia finds strength in surrender and Darrow finds redemption in humility and compromise. 

Then, add in some struggle, grit and pixie dust (and a cool head tattoo I guess. WE SEE YOU OVER THERE PAX AKA ADEPT AUGUSTUS. HELL YEAH KEEP IT UP BABY WOO) and the rising might just have a true shot. Not only at victory, but at redemption and continued effort in the name of what is just and good.

#oh wow okay yeah #apparently I had a lot to say #this is….. an essay #I could turn this shit in for a grade #oh well #light bringer #red rising #darrow of lykos #pierce brown #light bringer spoilers #dark age #iron gold trilogy #emma look at this #dark age spoilers #virginia au augustus #pax augustus #pax red rising #adept augustus #HES SO COOL #PAX IS GIVING MAD ENDER WIGGIN VIBES #cassius au bellona #sevro au barca #victra au julii #VICTRA BARCA

[jinx-jade]

And they were roommates

For @the-coffee-fandom

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Marinette blinked up at her mother with teary eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sabine hummed in agreement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Both college students walked inside the elevator.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Damian Al Ghul."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Exactly!” Plagg grinned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Looking over the object, Marinette could only sigh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His hesitation was all the confirmation Marinette needed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I took it off."

"Why?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blue eyes met green with a glint of amusement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I aware, Dupain-Cheng.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The second guard chuckled.

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

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

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

Marinette sighed and led Damian into the temple.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Al Ghul.” Marinette groaned.

“What?”

“Just answer the question.” the bluenette huffed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

Damian gave a nod of his head in confirmation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"From the twentieth to the seventh."

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

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

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

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

"Yes, Dupain-Cheng?" Damian answered.

Green eyes met blue in amusement.

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

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

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

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

"So what if I am?" Damian inquired.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Damian hummed in acknowledgment.

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

"But your family will be attending them?"

"Yes, they will."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blue eyes met green with genuine curiosity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Have I, though?"

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

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

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

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

"Nope!" "No."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When the night ended the Waynes went back home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He takes a bite.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#maribat #damianette #MGI 2022 gift exchange

[rozcdust]

Bitten - Fighting dog aftermath

Pairing: Bonten x Reader, Pet shop trio x reader

Genre: Angst

Trigger warnings: Gore, death, description of rot, OOC, body horror, maggots, suicide, depression

Kazutora, Baji and Chifuyu held hope.

They truly did, after all, you said you’ll be coming back in a day, maybe two, tops, so when you didn’t come back home the first night, they didn’t worry too much.

You’ll come back home the day after that.

Kazutora cleaned your room, changing the sheets and wiping off any dust that may have lingered, taking great care to put the few belongings you’ve accumulated over the month back into their place.

Chifuyu took to cooking and baking, he knew how much you enjoyed the food he prepared every time, even if you were used to fancy restaurants and food prepared by a private chef, you always scarfed down whatever meal he prepared like a starved wolf, but all he could do is laugh when you sheepishly apologised for your lack of manners.

He tried to ignore your remark that your boss kept you on a strict and well monitored meal plan.

If he thought about it too much, he just might find the fucker himself and kill him with his bare hands.

And Baji took to decorating, he had a good eye and plenty of patience to busy himself with colleague paper and pretty ribbons, making a banner in your favourite colours, taking care that each letter was perfect, each line precise, each and every word carefully crafted, having checked the spelling with both Chifuyu and Kazutora twice.

‘Welcome home’

It’s been months, and your room is still as clean as ever, an extra plate on the table always set, the banner carefully stored in a pretty box in a cupboard for your arrival.

You never came back home.

But they held hope.

Until they no longer could.

Until it was the anniversary of Shinichiro’s death, and Kazutora went to pay his respects, even if he felt unworthy of doing so, his therapist encouraged it, as did Baji and Chifuyu, so he went, a pack of cigarettes and a beer in his hands as an offering.

He didn’t get very far.

The plot next to the Sano family grave has been empty ever since Kazutora can remember, a blank headstone standing tall and proud and empty.*

It holds a name now, the grave recently washed, fresh bluebells and orchid flowers neatly places in each of the vases to the side of the headstone.

In his absent minded curiosity, Kazutora glances over the name etched on the stone.

It feels like he’s been shot.

Kazutora, Baji and Chifuyu hope no more.

It took Mochi and Kakucho both holding Ran back to not kill Kokonoi on the spot.

“Ran, he didn’t kill her! Calm down, this won’t solve shit!” Kakucho tried to not sound as desperate as he felt, but as Ran tried his best to wrestle out of his grasp, he couldn’t help it.

“LIKE HELL HE DIDN’T KILL HER! IF HE WASN’T SUCH A PIECE OF SHIT, SHE WOULDN’T DO THIS! SHE’D NEVER DO THIS!” Ran’s voice was a crescendo, a mangled cacophony of rage and sobs as he tried to get Kakucho and Mochi to let him go, to release him so he could strangle Kokonoi with his bare fucking hands.

Kokonoi merely stood there, pressed to the wall, staring down at the floor, a blank look on his face.

Sanzu and Rindou were in much of the same state, processing, or at least trying to, not understanding a thing and yet seeing it all too well.

“SHE WAS A KID! FUCK’S SAKE, SHE WAS BARELY 22! AND YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED HER!”

You’re dead.

You killed yourself, and now you’re gone forever, and they could have done nothing to stop it.

If Rindou could cry, he would.

But he can’t.

He doesn’t understand why- He saw you yesterday. He held you and your flesh was still warm and soft and you were smiling, admitting you missed him.

And Mikey?

Mikey sat in his office, stripping out of the filthy clothes, wiping off your blood off his face and hands, but the screaming was loud enough for him to hear every word perfectly.

His face was blank.

He told them you killed yourself.

Of course they wouldn’t believe just his word, well, the Haitanis wouldn’t, not without proof, but a security camera was conveniently set up on the roof.

No audio.

In just the perfect angle.

It clearly showed you screaming at Mikey, you screamed and you yelled and cried and then you hugged him goodbye killed yourself in his arms, who could ever blame him?

It was a suicide, plain and simple.

Ran and Rindou could never blame him, no one could, after all, he was the biggest victim of your little spectacle, he was the one the most harmed, he was the most hurt.

You set him up, you took out your heart, carefully prepared it for eating and forced him to take a bite.

Innocent.

Innocent, like graffitied eyes on a wall during a robbery gone wrong.

He was innocent, with your blood staining his face, and no will ever know.

He’s innocent, it was a blameless crime.

He’s innocent.

The water ran pink.

Kokonoi sits on your shared bed, staring into space, eyes and face dry as a bone.

He sees shadows at the corner of his eyes, feels like his lungs are full of river water and moss and he feels as rotten as meat left outside during summer heat and maybe in some other life he was a fox mangled on the side of the road and you were a soft girl who picked him up and saved him.

Maybe in some other life, the two of you would be happy.

He doesn’t know what he is even, not without you by his side, after all, you were such an intertwined part of his life, you were there for such a long time and now you’re rotting like the fox, mangled on the side of the road.

Who were you?

What was he?

How did you come to love him? Why did you love him? Why did he love you? Why was he still breathing? Where did his heartbeat go-

He presses his fingers to his neck, searching for a pulse.

He’s dead as well.

Why did he have such an affinity for loving dead things?

The sheets smell like you, but he still sees your corpse in his mind’s eye, eyes glazed over and a small smile on your face covered in blood and grey matter.

Mikey sits nearby, swinging his legs on the rooftop and refuses to look at you.

Kokonoi can’t close his eyes because he knows he’ll see Ran and Rindou screaming, knocking Kakucho away from you, Rindou’s fists pounding on Kakucho as Ran sobs, clutching your body, begging you to forgive them, hours after you’ve gone cold and rigour mortis already set in.

He couldn’t even approach, he didn’t deserve to.

He turned on his heel and left while Mikey finally opened his damn mouth to tell Sanzu and Kakucho to get rid of you.

You made yourself soft for Koko, and now you’re dead, and you looked fine just the day before, not happy but forgiving, with such a soft smile on your face that he thought he might have died.

He doesn’t even have photos of you. Not even any videos to remember you by, he has nothing left of you at all.

You have left all of your belongings in this flat, and yet all he has left is grief.

He stands up from the bed, legs shaky, to let water run into the bathtub.

Ran and Rindou don’t talk.

Ran spends the days in his bed, sheets filthy and smelling of sweat but he doesn’t have the energy to get up, doesn’t have the energy to move nor shower nor change his sheets.

He sleeps, your lighter clutched in his fist much like a child having a nightmare holds their plush toy and Ran refuses to wake up and he refuses to move.

He failed you.

He should have forced you to flee Tokyo, should have forced you to stay right in his arms where you were just a few days ago and never let you go to Kokonoi, to Mikey, never let you out of his sights again.

You were his precious little thing, his friend and the apple of his eye, a love he only held for Rindou and you, you meant something Ran couldn’t describe.

You are now nothing but a bloodless god in your tomb, and Ran’s love has run dry.

Rindou is God knows where.

Ran can only pray he’s not following your footsteps.

He wishes he had the energy to go and check, but he feels like a slab of meat on a butcher’s hook and he can’t move and does he still have a heartbeat and is he still breathing and he can’t breathe he can’t breathe does he still have a heartbeat is he still alive-

Ran grips your lighter until it’s etched into the skin of his palm.

Rindou is kneeling before you, an offering of your favourite food and a cup of bubble tea standing in front of him.

He’s grieving, grieving and grieving constantly and he grieves what you could have been and what you was and-

He can almost hear the sound of funeral bells and there is a bird chirping and-

So many ands.

Rindou curls up next to your grave and wishes he could hold you like he once used to, when the two of you were on a mission and came back exhausted without the strength to drive or call a cab and just crashed on the couch inside Ran’s office, covered in grime and gore and the two of you curled up into each other like a pair of kittens.

He still has that photo somewhere.

He wishes humans weren’t so fragile and that you weren’t born into a slaughterhouse.

He glances at your tombstone and closes his eyes, wishing to remember your face and your scent and your laugh forever.

He hopes you’re happy as nature devours you, bringing you back to rot, back to dust.

The steady trickle of alcohol down his throat is as familiar as the lines of his scars, darkness creeping into his room, ringing in his ears practically deafening and he can still hear his own damn thoughts so he opens another bottle and throws the cap of a pill bottle somewhere to the side and he drinks.

Sanzu hopes he’ll die tonight, and so he drinks and he bleeds and he prays to go back to that day in Kokonoi’s office.

How long ago was it? A month? Maybe two? It feels like years have passed.

He’s sure he has already died as a woman approached, standing just in front of him.

“I’m hallucinating, aren’t I?”

She smiles, shaking her head as her fingers softly rub the back of the body on the ground, passing through it, and Sanzu flinches.

It feels like knives and her fingers are cold and it’s as if she reached into his spine and is trying to rip it out.

His body.

“I think you overdosed.” She shrugged, as if it was the simplest explanation ever, pulling a stand of his hair out of the body’s face, “I’m not even really here, after all, I’m dead, Haruchiyo. Or maybe I am here, who could tell? It’s confusing.”

“I miss you.”

Her eyes flicker to his, an eyebrow raising in a familiar motion, her face sceptical.

It feels so familiar yet so foreign, as if her features are melting but coming back together when he blinks.

As if she is wrong.

He feels his brain sounding off alarms.

“Do you?”

He doesn’t even dare open his mouth.

“Come on, Haru, not time to cry yet. I only recently started rotting. I believe the maggots got to my eyes, but they’re not done quite yet.”

He flinches at the words, the tone, the melting smile on your face.

You look only a touch away.

He reaches for you, and his hands pass right through you.

He blinks.

You’re gone.

And you won’t come back this time

Taglist:

@sugusshi @yukihime-mikeys-girl @cielastrae @missarabellla @justiceforvillains @wakasa-wifey @kikis-writing-service @r-xochitl @levistiddies @sup-zfam @toobsessedsstuff @screwlogic101 @netzukochannn @lagrimasdeglitter-blog @angsty-microwave @dilf-city @aces-high

a/n: surprise? idk broskis uni’s killing me 😭

#tokyorev #tokyo revengers #bonten #kokonoi angst #kokonoi hajime x reader #kakucho hitto #ran haitani #kokonoi hajime #rindou haitani #manjiro sano

[cinderella-ish]

Momiji, Kyo, and what it means to protect the ones we love (part 5 of 5)

From the beach arc onward, we see Kyo intentionally spending more time with Tohru. He asks her to hang out in Kyoto, he eventually agrees to be in the play, they spend the New Year together, and he does little nice things for her when he can, like washing her scarf, or giving her the paper flower when he sees how upset she is.

This isn't wildly different from S1 Kyo, of course. He's done little nice things for her right from the beginning, like going to pick her up from work in E2. But he's more intentional with it now, and he's aware of his feelings for Tohru and desire to spend time with her. He may still feel unworthy of her, but he finally accepts that his presence makes her happy, so he's willing to quash his self-hatred enough to spend time with her, for her sake.

And we see Momiji work at protecting Tohru, most notably in Ask Him For Me, when he tries to accompany her on her mission to find Kureno, and when she insists on going alone, he draws her a map, tells her to stick to the bushes and give his name if she's caught, and tails her to make sure she doesn't get into trouble as she searches for Kureno. (Just look how worried he is! And look at him getting Tohru out of there!) He sees that Tohru feels very strongly about being involved, so he does absolutely everything he can to make sure she can do so as safely as possible. We even see his memory of the night Akito scratched Tohru's cheek, just to make his worries crystal clear.

He also doesn't try to distract or manipulate Tohru when he realizes she's upset. He asks her what's wrong and listens, and he even cries with her.

Takaya also connects Momiji and Kyo in the structure of Ask Him For Me/manga chapters 74 and 75. Momiji's section of this episode is almost bookended by two appearances from Kyo.

Near the beginning, Tohru asks Kyo about Kureno, and he warns her not to go looking for trouble. And at the end, we have that rooftop conversation.

Tohru: It's only natural to want to be with the person you love, to want to be by their side, right? Kyo: What is it? Are you in love with some guy? Tohru: N-n-n-no! It's not about me! Kyo: Don't worry. When you do fall in love, you'll have my full support.

So, in this episode, we have Momiji trying to protect Tohru, and Kyo trying to cheer her up and spend time with her, a complete reversal from where they started relative to each other.

And then, Momiji grows up.

After Golden Week, a bunch of the kids gather at Shigure's house for dinner, and when Tohru notices that Kyo isn't with them, Momiji volunteers to go get him (Momiji really is always the one to invite Kyo to join everyone). In the manga, Tohru starts crying when she notices that Kyo's not with them, no doubt thinking of Kyo's upcoming confinement.

When Momiji arrives in Kyo's room, they have this exchange:

Kyo: You guys are gonna eat here, too? Momiji: It's okay, we settled on curry. Kyo: Whatever. You grew a lot, huh? Momiji: Right? Pretty soon I might be taller than you, and better looking! And then, and then... maybe Tohru will accept my proposal? Do you get that if you give up, something like that might happen? So you shouldn't give up. I'm gonna stop going, 'There's no point in thinking about this,' and giving up. Wouldn't it sting if some other guy took Tohru from you? Well, look at the time! We better go help make curry! Come on!

In the manga, it's made clear that Kyo is horrified that everyone knows he loves Tohru. He stands separate from the rest of the group at the barbecue. In the manga, he and Tohru share a cute moment of blushing eye contact.

I love how Momiji says he'll stop thinking it's pointless, too, after he encourages Kyo not to give up. In a conversation where he could have focused on the fact that Kyo is his romantic rival, he instead focuses on the fact that they both might have futures worth fighting for. They're fighting beside each other, even if they can't both be the one Tohru loves romantically.

Later that episode (or a few chapters later), Momiji's curse breaks. He now has a real future ahead of him, but he sees how Tohru looks at Kyo, and he knows that his own future won't be at her side like he wants.

Kyo: Momiji? Jeez, you're here of all places. Tohru and them are inside looking for you, so- Momiji: What? Kyo: Huh? Uh, nothing. Did something happen? Momiji: My curse is broken. Would it surprise you if I said that? Kyo: What? Listen, you- Momiji: Yours breaking would make Tohru happier than mine breaking. I'm sure she'd be happy. I mean... you know, right? I'm the one this stings. Kyo: Shut up. I don't wanna realize that. It's too...

Gosh, this scene breaks my heart every time. On both of their behalves. Momiji is dealing with his first real heartbreak, and Kyo is dealing with his extremely complicated feelings about loving Tohru, his guilt over Kyoko's death, and his upcoming confinement in the Cat's House.

It's clear Kyo cares for Momiji in this scene, and Momiji really tries to put on a happy face for Kyo, but he can't. Megumi Han does an outstanding job as Momiji in this scene. The way her voice breaks when Momiji smiles and says, "Would it surprise you if I said that?" is just crushing.

The visual storytelling is stunning, too. The wide shots, emphasizing how lonely both Momiji and Kyo are. The way the scene is composed to emphasize the distance between them. The close-ups on their faces when they're each grappling with the thing that's gutting them. The way Momiji's smiles are always immediately followed by the saddest looks. The way their solo shots mirror each other's, at the beginning, middle, and end. We also don't see Kyo's eyes between the moment Momiji says his curse is broken and when Kyo is saying, "I don't wanna realize that."

Before the beach arc, I don't think Momiji would have watched that sort of interaction from a distance, and I don't think he would have let it stop him from making plans with Tohru. He would've just wanted to make her smile and spend as much time with her as possible, even if that meant ignoring her feelings. And he definitely wouldn't have let himself feel sad. Momiji's pain in this scene is evidence of his growth.

That night, Momiji goes to speak to Akito, after having dismissed her the night before. His speech to her might be my favorite moment of the whole series. It's the climax of Momiji's arc, at the very least.

Momiji: I'm sorry I sent you home alone yesterday. I spent the whole day thinking. Wondering why my curse is gone... only mine. I couldn't think of anything that would cause it. But I can say this: Akito, I can't stay by your side for the rest of my life. And you can't tie me down anymore. [Akito slaps Momiji] Akito: Monster! Traitor. Traitor! [Akito beats her fists against Momiji's chest] Akito: If you leave here, leave me, you've got no place to go! Your mother and father won't just welcome you back! No one will! You'll never be happy! Momiji: I know. I've become so free, and so lonely. The curse breaking doesn't mean I'll get the girl I want. And the bonds that unconditionally connected me to everyone are gone. It's too late. I can't go back to before things were broken. But... but don't tell me that not having those things means I can't be happy! Don't just decide that! I feel vulnerable being free, but a happiness might exist for me! It might be somewhere in the future, waiting for me to catch up! I'm going to finally start walking along my own life's path. What about you? How long will you stay here? The person most afraid that if they leave this place, they'll have no home and no happiness... Akito: Shut up. Just shut up. Get lost. Momiji: Okay.

It's almost the credo of the whole series, isn't it? That it's better to make your own way, with no guarantee of love or happiness, than to cling to bonds that have become a burden and wish for things to never change. What Momiji's saying is what Akito needs to accept in order to be free herself.

And Momiji, despite all the loss he's suffered, despite having his heart broken that very afternoon, he's still determined to keep going.

I love this as the climax for Momiji's arc because it showcases the ways he's grown while also showing us the things that have always made him such a special character. He's standing up for himself and his future, not afraid to make Akito angry or say things she doesn't want to hear. He's acknowledging that it hurts, and that he might never have the family he so desires. But he also might.

It's a waste of time to think about loss or life getting harder. The traveler never thought about that stuff.

He still has hope, even as everything seems so dark. And he still tries to help Akito, even after everything she's done to him.

The parallels between Kyo and Akito in this episode/chapter are so well done. For both of them, the pain of moving forward is just too much right now, but Momiji still wants to see them both move forward anyway, and he's telling them this in a straightforward, mature way, rather than manipulating them.

And Momiji's not done affecting Kyo's arc.

After Kyo asks Tohru if she loves him, we see Momiji's face and hear him say, "I mean... you know, right?" Once more, it's Momiji whose voice Kyo hears at such a crucial moment.

It's painful for Kyo to finally accept that Tohru loves him. He doesn't know she already knows about his confinement, and worse still, he knows he has to tell her about the day of her mother's death.

But again, it was Momiji who led Kyo to realize that he loves Tohru in S2, and now it's Momiji leading Kyo to realize that Tohru loves him, too.

After Kyo unloads his guilt on Tohru, and Tohru falls from the cliff, it's really Yuki who gets Kyo to take the final step toward accepting Tohru's love, so I won't say much about that except to point out that Yuki says making Tohru smile was protecting her, and that only Kyo could make her smile like that.

I think this scene, where Momiji and Kagura team up to tease Kyo, is the last time we see Kyo and Momiji together. But they're still affecting each other's arcs all the way to the end.

After Kyo and Tohru get together, they visit Kyoko's grave, and Kyo asks Tohru to move away with him.

It's selfish, and it's going to take Tohru away from everyone else, but he still asks anyway. It's a very Momiji-like thing for him to do.

And then, he says this:

I'm taking her with me. You good with that? I'll keep my promise. I know I'm really late, but... I'll protect her for life. So, we're good, right?

He's taking her with him, and he'll protect her for life. He's learned from Momiji, but he's still Kyo.

As they get ready to leave, Tohru starts reminiscing and starts to cry because she'll miss everyone so much.

Kyo: Clearly you don't get it. Listen up: everyone loves you more than you think they do. So it'll be okay. This isn't the last time you'll ever see them. It's the start of a new banquet, right?

In his last appearance, Kyo hugs her and cheers her up and offers a healthy dose of optimism for their future.

And the last time we see Momiji, he's sitting at the dojo with Haru and Rin.

Momiji: More importantly, how dare Kyo take Tohru with him! I bet he just wants her all to himself. I wanna pinch him! Really hard! Haru: Why not pinch him tomorrow? Momiji: Nah, I can't do it in front of Tohru. Oh, but thanks to him, I have another dream. I'm going to find an amazing significant other, and we're gonna go visit them just to show off! So Tohru had better stay happy. She'd better keep on smiling, or I'll be disappointed.

He's complaining and getting annoyed at Kyo (and threatening light physical violence!), but he's still dreaming of a bright future for himself. And he's trusting Kyo to keep cheering Tohru up in their new home.

When I started thinking about writing this series, the point I thought I'd be making was that Momiji functioned as Kyo's mentor in Fruits Basket. But after putting these posts together, I really think it'd be more accurate to say they were each other's mentors. Their relationship has a mutuality from the start. I hope they remained close as adults.

And I really hope Momiji found an amazing partner.

Momiji and Kyo: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Here's a plug for my fic, Bloom Within Us. It's a canon-divergent AU where Tohru dies after falling from the cliff. I've really enjoyed exploring Momiji and Kyo's relationship in that story. If you've enjoyed this series, I hope you'll check it out!

#fruits basket #furuba #fruba #kyo sohma #momiji sohma #akito sohma #kagura sohma #tohru honda #hatsuharu sohma #furuba analysis #fruba analysis #fruits basket analysis #character analysis #analysis #rich characterization #character traits #character development #story structure #kyo and momiji are basically brothers! #romance #kyoru #kyo x tohru #my meta #by cinderella-ish #character arcs #complementary character arcs #fanfic #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link

[the-darkestminds]

An E/riel made me raise my eyebrows when they said “If Gwyn and Az are mates, why aren't they together in HOFAS? Why would Az say he doesn't have a mate or a partner in HOFAS if Gwyn is his mate? Az certainly would have felt the mating bond by now given the amount of time they've spent together and the traumatic events Gwyn has gone through that Az has been present for. There is nothing keeping Gwyn and Az apart. There's no reason they can't get together immediately. They have no barriers to their relationship, internal or external. Maybe that's why Az says he doesn't have a mate or a partner yet in HOFAS-because he wants to be with Elain but he can't be. Because e/riel is next and we'll see them overcome these barriers to get together in their book.”

Sarah is not going to write an off-page romance. She is not going to write about a mating bond (something extremely important) snapping off-page, especially in a book that’s not ACOTAR. And that’s why Gwynriel’s were fine with Azriel saying he doesn’t have a mate or a partner. Because we get to read about it happening. That’s what we want. We want to see Gwyn and Azriel becomes friends, fall in love, and have a mating bond snap. If it happened off-page, the I would honestly be really upset and disappointed. I know E/riel’s love to believe that their ship, their “forbidden romance”, is happening off-page (which is highly unlikely), but us Gwynriel’s prefer to get to actually read about the romance blossoming.

And as for Azriel not feeling the mating bond, how do we actually know? We don’t have his pov, so we don’t know. It’s been three months since SF ended, and we haven’t had his pov since his bonus chapter, so we don’t know what has been going on through his head, or what he’s been up to. And as for nothing keeping Gwyn & Az apart, both of them have their own things to work through. Azriel struggles with self worth, and he needs to talk to Mor. That conversation needs to happen. And Gwyn has her own trauma, so it’s understandable. Sarah is not going to not write about this and have Gwynriel develop off-page. That would be wasted plot. I don’t think Sarah has ever written an off-page romance (please genuinely correct me if I’m wrong).

I have heard this argument a lot too. I think part of Azriel's issue is that he feels so much icy rage all the time, is so used to fighting to suppress it that he supresses a lot of the good stuff too. He comes across as cold and focused but from his short POV we see he is quick to anger, hates himself and feels unworthy, and has a lot of issues to work through. I don't think he would even realize the mating bond if it clunked him on the head. And if he did, I have to wonder if he would feel worthy of that bond either. Personally I think that will be a big part of his story--accepting himself and the fact that he does deserve love. I'm not saying he's currently incapable of it, he clearly loves the IC and in HOFAS he mentions finding people he loves. But his obsession with Mor, and his thoughts in the ACOSF bonus chapter suggest he has a long way to go. Also side note, but a forbidden romance for Azriel would be disastrous and do absolutely nothing to help with his lack of self worth.

Imagine if when asked if he has a mate he said yes. We'd all be like wtf? Since when? (Although personally I believe it's Gwyn) I don't really understand why Elriels seem perfectly fine with their ship developing off page. I want to be present for all of it. Also we have no way of knowing for sure what happened in that time after ACOSF and HOFAS, like you said. But why should we have to guess and make stuff up? We will find out in the next book. I agree with you, I can't think of any romance that developed off page. Or of a female main character who did not need to go through a painful healing arc to realize what she truly wants and needs. I only bring this up because I often see the claim that "Elain is happy and fulfilled in the night court, she has friends, she loves Az". I do not see her happy and healed at all. And if that were all true then why exactly does she need her own book?

#thank u for the interesting ask anon #love u #anti elriel #anti e/riel #azriel #pro gwynriel

[fang-and-feather]

How Far We've Come

Ikemen Vampire - Jean x Reader - Family fic

Written for A Series of Firsts hosted by @aquagirl1978

Prompt(s): First Child

Not exactly what I expected to write, but I was too busy, so I guess this is just some feelings...

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist / AO3 Link

Jean tensed as the baby was carefully nestled in his arms.

No matter how much time had passed, he still hesitated in face of such happiness. Dark whispers swirled in his mind, saying he didn’t deserve it, reminding him of the sins that tainted him and that he shouldn’t be near such a pure, innocent being.

But time also made it easier to push such thoughts down and focus on the moment and on his feelings. You always found him worthy; you always saw the light he thought he’d lost long ago. And maybe the voice was right; maybe he didn’t deserve this, but who was he to deny what you gave him so freely? All the love and happiness you showered him with, he would treasure and protect, no matter what.

And this new family made it even easier for him to accept it. He was the first to express a wish for this piece of happiness, and you finally received such a blessing, one he doubted he would receive if he was unworthy. He’d been thinking it for a while, but maybe you were his chance of redemption, and this was proof he was forgiven. Or on the path to.

“Jean?” You rested your head against his shoulder and reached out to whip a tear he hadn’t even noticed.

He blinked, feeling more tears pooling in the corner of his eyes. His gaze moved to you, and you looked back with a certain hesitation, certainly unsure of his reaction.

His response was a tender smile; that was enough for you to smile back. Both of you turned your attention back to your baby daughter as she stirred, but she continued sleeping.

"Beautiful, like her father.” You whispered, snuggling to Jean’s side once again.

He didn’t know how much she looked like him, except for the thin strands of dark hair, lighter, but of a similar color to his, but she was much more beautiful, and would grow to be even more, he was sure of that.

“And I hope she’ll grow to be as kind and strong as you.” You added.

“You’re stronger than me, mon amour.” Jean turned his head, giving you a kiss on the forehead. “And I know she will grow to be a wonderful person.” And he would strive to be the best father he could be. To make both of you the happiest he could.

“With a father like you, she will.”

“With a family like us she will.” He kissed you again, this time on the lips.

This all felt like a dream. His wishes coming true and bringing all this happiness… but this time he wouldn’t hide from it. He would fight for this love and all the good things that came and would continue coming from it. More than ever, because now he had more to protect than he ever imagined.

Tag List: @tele86, @nightghoul381, @natimiles

If you want to be tagged on future writings, you can reply to this post or send me a message

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist

#series of firsts ccc #ikemen vampire #ikevamp jean #ikevamp #fanfiction #ikevamp fanfic

[m-i-s-a-n-t-r-o-p]

Things will get better with time

Hey! This is my first ever fic so hopefully it makes some sense haha. Written for a lovely soul I met here on Tumblr a few days ago, asking someone to write them a comfort fic so here i am, trying to save the day. Hope you will like it! Tell me what you think!

Ps. this is not proofread, it is 11pm here and my brain is dying:)

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Pairing: Billy Russo x fem!reader (not canon, this Billy is actually sweet and caring!)

warnings: a bit of swearing, feelings of being unworthy (can't think of anything else tbh)

Summary: You are on a girl's trip in Greece with your best friend but things aren't really going the way you anticipated. After a fight with her, you leave the hotel and find yourself sitting on a lonely bench when a weird stranger asks if you're okay.

A lot of angst to comfort.

Word count: 2937

Greece. Greece. 

You muttered to yourself as your eyes scanned over the department board once more, simply to confirm that this was really happening. Your first ever trip abroad. You were beyond excited as you continued to find your friend in the maze of people and luggage. All the thoughts of warm nights, hours spent by the beach and days of simply existing and relaxing were filling your mind. As you finally spotted Stephanie your excitement grew even more. A girl’s trip, something you have anticipated for quite some time now. She was, as usual, completely wrapped up in her boyfriend’s arms. Not that you didn’t want her to be happy, not that you were jealous, it was just… sometimes you wanted to spend time with just her, without Luke always there. But now you have finally managed to escape his prying eyes, his ever-present arms around your best friend and his snarky comments of always stealing his girl away from him. And to be honest, you were pretty happy about finally getting rid of him. 

“I’ll miss you baby,” Stephanie said for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes. The boarding would start any minute now and yet here you were, still in the departure hall, trying to get Steph to bid goodbye and finally enjoy herself on this trip. Luke hugged her once more while saying “Call me every day, okay baby girl?” and your friend profoundly nodded, as if to confirm something far greater than just to call her boyfriend every once in a while. 

The flight, to your surprise, was quite smooth. That went without counting Stephanie’s constant cries of how she wishes Luke would have come with you. Don’t be so harsh, you told yourself, it is the first time they are really away from each other. You tried to seek some understanding within you and for the first hour you actually did find it. But when the conversation would not steer in a different direction even after two hours, you simply excused yourself from the one-sided debate, popped in your earphones and tried to fall asleep. You thought of all the beaches again, of the sea, and of course, of all the handsome men you will probably meet in Greece. 

It was not as if Steph was a bad friend. She was wonderful at times. Attentive, caring, supportive. But that was all before she met Luke. After they started dating, you have been cast aside, thrown away like a used doll that didn’t fit the child’s expectations anymore. And you understood, for who you were to stand between two people in love? So you salvaged all the little time you could get with your friend, enduring all the conversations about her love life, feeling happy for her. You just hoped things would get better with time. But they never really did. 

When you finally touched down in Greece, you were welcomed with gentle warm breeze on your cheeks and the sun stroking your hair gently in the late afternoon. The ride to your hotel was silent, a fact you were much thankful for after the exhausting flight. You guessed Steph was tired too but as you looked behind your shoulder to the backseat, you found her with her phone glued to her hands, her eyes fixed on the screen. “Everything good Steph?” you asked, concerned something was the matter as she was frowning quite hard. She looked up momentarily and forged a small smile on her lips as a form of wordless apology. She said, surprising you “Yeah, it’s just Luke. He was asking about the flight; you know how he is with planes” and chuckling a bit to herself as her eyes returned to the screen. You simply nodded, knowing she is not paying attention to you anyways. Luke, always Luke… even here in Greece, with all the beautiful scenery around, it’s always Luke. Yet you could not really bring yourself to feel anger, or at least not enough of it. It will get better, you thought to yourself as the car came to a halt in front of your hotel. 

The first two days were weird, to say the least. Your room was spacious, beautifully furnished and with a dazzling view of the town you were staying in and of the seemingly endless glimmering sea. The food was great, the people were kind and the weather even kinder to you. You have heard quite a lot of people say that Greece is insufferable at this time of the year for its hot temperatures, but you guessed you were lucky as there was always gentle breeze cooling you down. Everything was great. Except that it was not. Stephanie, despite promising you she would reserve her daily calls with Luke for the less busy afternoons, was on her phone most of the time. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Luke’s calling me, I gotta go”.

“Can this wait? Luke and I are going to facetime now”.

“Luke’s texting me, hold that thought!”

On and on, these sentences and their versions filled your days like a plague. You were getting tired of always being put second, never really being the first option Steph would choose. Because even though she was there with you, she still decided to prioritize her boyfriend. Now don’t get it wrong, you were happy for her, you truly were. But you also thought that maybe this was not entirely fair towards you. After all this was supposed to be a getaway from your work, you busy life, from all the other people. It was supposed to be just the two of you, like the old times. And you still thought that maybe things will get better. 

The late afternoon has finally begun to bleed into an endless night when you suggested going for a walk through the little town. “I suppose we could do that; it could be fun!” Stephanie exclaimed, finally agreed to doing something other than just lying in her bed facetiming Luke. You were beyond happy for finally snatching some of her attention for yourself. The two of you agreed on dressing up a bit so that you could take some lovely photos by the white houses typical for this area. You put on a beautiful flowy dress that hugged your curves perfectly and reached just above your bare knees, with flowing sleeves of blue see-through fabric. The neckline was a little lower than what you would usually go for, yet it still didn’t reveal much, only a hint, only a tease. Your hair was twisted into a simple up-do and you also put on some lighter make up, just to compliment the look. As you stood in front of the mirror, you felt so beautiful. Yet something was still missing. Oh, the earrings! You thought as you remembered you bought a pair of intricate gold earrings on the farmer’s market the other day. An old lady sold them to you, telling you they were literally made for you. And boy, was she right. You looked gorgeous. 

“Steph, I’m ready!” you called out from the bathroom. 

But your friend didn’t return the excitement which now began to slowly replace itself with disappointment. “You’re gonna hate me…” She didn’t even need to go on, you already knew where this was going. “Luke? Again? Seriously? You guys just spent the last four hours talking on the phone!” and this long-held disappointment and neglect has finally merged into a well-deserved anger. “But he says it’s important! Come on, you can’t be mad at me. I miss him so much…” Stephanie countered your angry statement with a response filled with sadness. “I wouldn’t be mad if it was just a one-time thing but Steph, you’ve been on your phone the whole time we’ve been here. I feel like I don’t even exist to you!” now you were beginning to fight, your emotions getting the better of you. “That’s now true!” your friend yelled back at you. “You know goddamn well that it is.” You said, voice barely above whisper, as if you were afraid that if you spoke loudly it would break. As if you stood your ground, then you would break. And Stephanie just stood there, looking at you, not really knowing what to say. Maybe she knew you were right, maybe she did really feel bad. But it didn’t matter anymore. You were hurt, you were lonely and you just wanted to hide somewhere and cry your heart out. So, picking up your purse and walking towards the door, you turned to her one last time and quietly left. There was nothing else to say. 

You could not exactly recall when the tears started to stream down your face, ruining your pretty make up. And you also could not recall when you’ve abolished trying to walk in these uncomfortable shoes, or how exactly you got to the lonely bench you were now sitting on. The moon was high up in the sky now, the stars singing their lullaby to anyone willing to listen. The sea was quiet and dark, a companion for worse times. And the omnipresent wind sometimes ever-so-slightly ruffled through the leaves of the trees enveloping you like a safe haven. It was peaceful, to say the least. And it indeed was a nice contrast to the war of emotions taking place in your heart. A part of you felt bad for leaving Steph like that, a part of you felt like maybe you should have yelled at her more. And as you were crying silently in the embrace of the night, you didn’t even notice the presence of someone else behind you. 

“Are you alright?

You jumped at the sound of a deep velvet voice that cut through the silence like a knife. Oh shit, oh shit. Suddenly the state of your situation started to dawn on you. You were completely alone, on the outskirts of the city, in a dress and now with a strange man. I’m fucked. You decided to play it safe.

“Yeah.” You tried to sound strong but your voice was laced with sadness and salty tears. 

“Are you sure? I thought I heard you cryin’ so I decided to check on you.” The stranger spoke up, his voice firm, yet somehow gentle and warm. Maybe he was not a bad guy after all. And you so desperately needed a shoulder to cry on, you didn’t really care whose the shoulder would be. 

When you didn’t reply, too caught up in thinking about the pros and cons, the man quietly moved next to the bench. But he didn’t sit down just yet. He was approaching you as if you were a scared animal, trying to get you to trust him. His scent filled the air around you; a sweet cologne, a bit of fire and something you could not quite name. It was pleasant, you had to admit. 

“Mind if I sit?” he asked, jerking you out of your overthinking. You silently nodded to let him know he could sit down next to you, hoping he wasn’t some kind of a creep. He sat down next to you, not close enough to let your shoulders touch, but not far enough that you could not sense the warmth radiating off his body. 

“So…” he said, suddenly unsure of himself. But you could not bare the weight of all the emotions anymore and words started to spill out without you having any control over them.

“I hate it, I hate her. I hate that I feel like this. I feel so fucking lonely, on my own goddamn holiday! I thought we would have a good time, that I would relax and enjoy myself and instead I am here, sitting on a bench god knows where with a stranger listening to me because my best friend is too selfish to do that instead.” At the end you were almost screaming into the night, your body trembling, your eyes stained with tears, your heart breaking at the realisation of what was really happening. It was pathetic really. Telling a stranger things like that, how does that even happen? But you felt like you could trust him. There was just something about him that made you feel safe. And he was listening intently, not saying anything. He was just there. And that was all you needed in that moment. When he noticed how shaken up you were, he placed his hand affirmingly on shoulder to encourage you to continue. When you calmed down a bit, you resumed your rant. 

“My friend and I, we agreed to go here on vacation. As a way to relax, you know. I thought it would be great. It is actually my first ever trip abroad. But she wouldn’t get off the phone. She is always talking to her boyfriend. Always. Texting, calling, facetiming, you name it. It’s as if I’m not even there! And it hurts so much, it feels so lonely. And I tried talking to her about it but we just got into a fight and now I am here, crying instead of enjoying this trip.”

His fingers were drawing gentle circles on your bare shoulder and you found it soothing. 

“I’m so sorry. That’s pretty shitty.”

“Yeah, it is shitty.” It almost made you laugh. Because it was shitty. 

“Look, your friend is a really bad friend. Abandoning you like this, that’s not somethin’ good friends do. You deserve so much better than this. I usually tell people that they should talk things out but if you’ve tried that and it turned into an argument, maybe it would be better if you gave this friendship some time and space. So that both of you can assess your priorities. And to also realize what is important to you.” He said, his voice calm and even, comforting your worried heart. “It doesn’t take the pain away now, I know. But it will help you a lot in the future.”

“I hate that you’re right.” you agreed and much to your surprise, smiled. “It’s just a lot of built-up anger I suppose. And disappointment too. It has been going on like this for quite some time but I never really noticed it until now.”

He took a breath as if to think a bit on what to say next, as if you weren’t going to like what he got to say about it. “I understand. Sometimes we just want to see the good in people no matter how much they’ve hurt us. And we are too blind to see that they are causin’ too much pain and not enough happiness. Sometimes it’s just better to let people go. You can be happy on your own, happier even. You know, go and see a movie alone, go to a museum or to the beach, just enjoy your own company.” 

“But doesn’t that get lonely?” you asked, still looking out at the sea. It calmed you down, the repetitiveness of the waves, the sound of water and also the warmth of his hand still on your shoulder. 

“Sometimes. But I have found out it is better to be lonely than to be with the wrong people.”

It were those words that made you finally turn around and look at him. And you were met with a sight worth more than words could ever describe. A man so handsome you thought he was conjured by your own imagination. But then, your imagination could not possibly produce something so perfect. His eyes, dark as the sea draped in darkness, looking warmly at you. His lips curled into the faintest reassuring smile. You could tell his hair was once neatly styled with gel, now ruffled and messy, yet still looking soft. And to top it all off, his perfectly trimmed beard. 

He smiled at you, a wide and beautiful smile. “Hey there.”

You weren’t looking at him, no, you were quite intently staring. “I’m Billy.” He extended his hand towards you, waiting.

“Y/N” you said at last, smiling too. You shook his hand and suddenly felt the urge to apologise. “I’m so sorry, I probably shouldn’t have done tha-“ “Don’t apologize sweetheart. I couldn’t bear to see you cry.”

A quiet “Thank you” found its way onto your lips. And his smile grew even wider. “Please, don’t thank me. Letting you talk it out was the least I could do.” 

And even though his voice was reassuring, and his eyes told you he spoke earnestly, you still couldn’t shake the feeling you should feel bad. Maybe because you were still shaken up from Stephanie not listening to you or maybe because you found yourself on a bench in Greece with this handsome man, spilling your heart out. And suddenly, tears rolled down your cheeks again and your heart felt too heavy to carry once more. 

“Oh no, baby, come here.” Billy said as he wiped some of your tears with his thumbs. “Shhh, it’s all okay sweetheart, it’s okay” he whispered into your hair as he pulled you closer. His strong arms hid you away from the world, pressed against his chest, and you wished for nothing more than to simply stay in this little shelter that he suddenly became. “I’m here Y/N, I’m here. All is well, it’s okay” he repeated, rocking you back and forth, as you cried into his shirt. And as you stayed there, on that bench, talking the night away in Billy’s arms, you let yourself believe that, for the first time in a while, things will get better with time.

#billy russo x reader #the punisher #billy russo #billy russo x you #billy russo fluff #billy russo imagine #billy russo x y/n #billy russo x female reader