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I like to imagine in a world of Daminette, when Talia finds out her boy is dating she might, possibly go on a "no one is worthy of my child" streak and then she meets the girl and its like:
Talia:*on a far away rooftop, staring through the rifle
Marinette:* in the distance, walks into a lamp pole repeatedly
Talia: why my child, are you trying to spite me in some form or fashion?
Also
Marinette: what the fuck does the LoA want with me
Talia: why do you even know who I am
Marinette: hi my name is Marinette and my cult is your neighbour
Talia: what
Marinette: behold, the celestial guardian, nice to meet you
Talia:*who just saw her drop a bag of flour on herself
Bruce Wayne's Headache Classification System Chapter 5
You can read it on ao3 here!
A/N: *Strolls in three and a half years later.*
You would never believe the traffic on the way here.
I rewrote this chapter five times!! Every time I thought I had something, I found out that I hated it. Finally, FINALLY, found a version that I liked.
Is it perfect? No. But it's done, and if the urge to ever write the follow-up where Damian and Marinette get together, Marinette wins over the family, and the whole Gotham curse situation gets resolved ever grabs me by the throat, I'll have a much better jumping off point than the limbo it has existed in for the last three years. Now, without any further ado!
Chapter 5:
Bruce lasts all of an hour - a frustrating, hair-pulling, concerning hour driving him to a state of manic paranoia, and opening three more case files alluding to the magical events happening in Paris he had worryingly missed - before he concludes that his sons vastly underestimated the amount of trouble Paris, and one Miss Dupain-Cheng, happened to be.
Concern is an understatement of the utmost kind. And that migraine he drove away remerges with a vengeance on par with his own mission.
Paris was essentially besieged by a magical terrorist for years. And no one knew. Not a peep from the UN, or the EU, not a call to the Justice League, not a contemporary mention on social media. Nothing. It’s like Paris became a sinkhole for all information regarding the situation for years. All the tourists never mentioned it, and none of the citizens ever complained.
And then, a year ago, the information slowly leaked out. Fits and bursts, seen as an internet joke, but with enough evidence to prove it true, if you knew where to look.
And it was hard to look.
If Bruce were not overwhelmingly familiar with how magic could fool the mind, directing it away from certain modes of thinking, knowledge so obviously right there in front of you, he would have missed it. But he worked with the impossible every day. Trained his mind and his body to look past the obvious into what lay hidden beneath. The magic, and he doubted it was anything but magic, at play here lay quiet and hidden until it needed to obfuscate, and then it showed itself with force.
Too bad he knew how to fight back.
Already, he could tell that the focus of attacks circled Collège Françoise Dupont, the very school Dupain-Cheng attended. Attacks continued on through the years, varying wildly, always seeming to circle a core group of people. People who, through the few social media posts Bruce could find on the girl, were in the young woman’s social circle.
Frustration bit deep as, at every turn, the internet refused to give him the answers he sought. His head pounded, trying to make sense of what had happened in Paris for the last six years.
An alert cut through his research-induced fog.
Tim: Patrol ended early. Jason and Damian are fighting in the cave
Tim: Damian has his swords out
Tim: Might need some backup
Tim: pls
Bruce sighs. Heavily.
Like clockwork, a pain at the base of his neck builds into a fever pitch, his why-did-I-think-children-were-a-good-idea headache hitting full force. Heading for the hidden entrance to the cave, he preps himself for breaking up a fight between his two volatile sons.
Clanging metal hits his ears the second the elevator doors open. Angry yelling registers next.
“That the best you can do, demon brat?”
“Come closer and face me like a man, Todd!”
“What? Like how you trapped me after your little girlfriend made me think you were dying!?”
Bruce grits his teeth; why are they acting like untrained children? Racing to the cave's open area, he finds Jason dodging away from furious sword strikes. Tim sits over by the computer. Amused, concerned, and filming on his phone. While Dick stands off to the side, looking three seconds away from jumping in. “What in the world is going on here!” he yells. Four heads swivel to face him.
“Damian attacked me!” Jason’s eyes shine a bright, toxic green, glinting in the cave's dim light.
Damian growls, face twisted in anger. “I told you to cease your baseless slander of Marinette. You continued to do so, and I demonstrated the consequences of such a poor decision.”
“Aww, are you sad because I’m being mean to your little girlfriend?” Jason mocks, grin jagged like spikes. “Grow a pair, Dami.”
“How about I take yours for recompense,” his youngest hisses.
“Enough!” Bruce orders, using the voice his kids knew meant business. All four straighten up in an instant. “You both are acting like children.”
Jason shakes off the reprimand first and blanches, “But he-”
Damian quickly bristles, “I’m just-”
“Cease.”
Reluctantly, both boys settle, tension still suffusing the air with the promise of violence yet unwrought. Bruce grunts, walking down the steps to the platform, the occasional wrong movement a jar to his broken ribs. “You are all trained vigilantes, professionals. And yet you can’t complete a simple patrol without devolving into pointless bickering.”
Jason and Damian refuse to meet his eyes, staring at the ground as if it will save them. It won’t.
“What happened?” The order barely bothers to be a question.
“I made the decision to cut the patrol short,” Dick answers, jumping in like his eldest clearly wanted to from the start. “Low chatter on the police comms, no rouges out of Arkham-”
“Besides Harls and Ives,” Jason mutters.
Dick waves him off. “They hardly count these days, besides, they’re vacationing in Brazil this month-”
“Which means they’re terrorizing deforesters in the Amazon,” Tim points out blandly. And, yes, he is likely correct. But Bruce long gave up on containing Ivy, and she kept her destruction to industrial equipment and scaring the living daylights out of reckless loggers. Compromises.
Whatever kept her busy enough to stop her from besieging Arkham to get at the Joker.
Dick continues without missing a beat. “Which is not here, and thus not our problem. So, I said we’d all do one last check of our areas and call it a night because we could all use the sleep-”
“Because someone was up early primping and preening for his little date,” Jason says, sneering in Damian’s direction.
“It was not a date,” Damian shoots back. “It was an enjoyable outing, with. A. Friend.”
“That’s not what the pictures Stephanie sent look like,” Tim says, scrolling through his phone. Nose scrunching in disbelief. “Did you really pull out her chair for her?”
Damian’s face turns a vibrant shade of red, turning to face Tim. “What?” he growls, body tensing like he was set to pounce. Bruce brought himself closer to block the easy path from his youngest to Tim.
“Damian,” he intones, putting as much disapproval in his son’s name as possible. “Stop acting like a child and control yourself.” Damian breathes deep. Had he been a dragon, there would be sparks thrashing in the air, barely leashing his anger, tension radiating off him. Bruce nods to his eldest to continue his report.
“Right, yeah. So everyone circles out, when Jason-”
“Don’t put this on me, Dick. I didn’t start this.”
Tim scoffs. “Yeah, you kinda did.”
Damian sneers, bearing his teeth. “To instigate conflict in the field demonstrates the foibles of the weak and inferior.”
“I’ll show you inferior, ya little piece of shit.” Jason makes a lunge for Damian, who flips onto the railing. Bruce barely restrains Jason from engaging, to the detriment of his ribs. With an inch on him and the raging strength of a pissed-off bull, Bruce hates feeling his age, and tonight is a damn good example of that.
“Anyway!” Dick yells, gathering the attention back to himself. “Jason insults Damian’s new gir-”
Damian’s scowl deepens.
“Damian’s new friend. Damian challenges him over the comm. Jason threatens him back. I say no chatter on the comms-”
“Oracle said no chatter on the comms,” Tim corrects.
Dick throws up his hands, exasperation pouring off him. “Whatever! Can I stop getting interrupted? Babs tells us off, we all come back here because interpersonal fighting has no place in the field,” he stresses, looking pointedly between Damian and Jason. Both of whom are turned away and barely engaged. “Then, Jason insulted Marinette again. Damian pulled his sword, and the rest is as you saw.”
“So, behavior I taught you all better never to bring into the mission,” Bruce glares. Dick raises his hands again, as if washing himself of the responsibility, which was exactly the opposite of what Bruce expected of him when he asked his eldest to take point on patrol.
“Don’t look at me,” says Tim, swiveling back to the batcomputer. “I’m just the messenger.”
Jason wrenches out of Bruce’s hold and hisses out a stinging, “Fucking narc.”
Damian ignores it completely. “This is harassment! I am attempting to cement a civilian connection, which you all have badgered me to do on several occasions, and these worthless wastes of oxygen-”
“Wow, that’s a little harsh,” Dick mutters.
Damian glares viciously, “-are turning the entire affair into a vaudeville side show!”
Jason scoffs loudly, bringing the attention back to himself. “Yeah, no way, I don’t buy girlie pop as a civilian. She knows way too much magic and way too many tricks not to be a plant. And what’s concerning is you don’t fucking seem to care, Demon brat.”
“She is not a plant.” Damian shoots back, pacing above while the rest of them look on in shocked amazement. His youngest is rarely this demonstrative, especially in defense of another. “She is not a trick from my mother, or a floozy trying to use our family status to raise rank. She is a fashion designer from Paris who knows magic, that’s it!” Damian’s voice grew higher and more frantic as he belabored his point.
Bruce grunts again as the pain in his head grows from mildly problematic to throbbing; a prime example of his something-is-wrong-here-but-I-don’t-know-what-yet headache. He powers through, trying to bring reason to the conversation. “Damian, your brothers explained the situation, and further investigation has proved sparse. She’s a ghost. You’re allowing your judgment to be compromised.”
Damian’s jaw ticks, furious green eyes narrow, and Bruce holds back a wince at how much he resembles his mother in this exact moment. “I have run myself through the magical influence protocols. Richard ran them on me a second time. I am functioning with a perfectly sound body and mind-”
Snort. “Debatable,” mutters Tim.
“Your days are numbered, Drake.”
“Dami…” Dick sighs, tentative chiding, lacing his words. It only serves to irritate. Damian bristles at the mollifying tone.
“No, this was your fault we all ended in this mess, and now you blame me for doing all that I could to win!? Marinette did nothing more than follow my requests and utilize her skillset. It is not illegal to have magic-”
Bruce is not a fan of any interference in the city - metas or magic, all of it could turn on a dime. Even the best-trained supers could fall to influences that occurred all too often in his city. “There is a strict no metas in Gotham policy, Damian. And for good reason.”
Damian actually rolls his eyes. “A policy which, beyond the super community - a community Marinette is not a part of - you have no actual way of enforcing beyond financial enticement to leave, disguised as charity from Wayne Enterprises. Marinette chose to attend school here-”
“Suspicious,” Jason sneers, and Bruce resists the urge to groan; he does not need further commentary riling Damian up.
Defensive and on edge, Damian sends another withering glare in Jason’s direction. “No, it’s not. She had no wish to remain in her country after the actions of the magical terrorists that besieged them. That is rather common from what I hear.”
“Yeah, but normal people don’t jump out of the frying pan and into the radioactive acid bath,” Tim says, leaning over the railing with a contemplative look on his face. A comparison Bruce finds quite salient. For all that he loves his city, finds purpose in protecting it from the dregs of humanity, it is not a safe city. If you want a break, and he couldn’t blame the girl for wanting a break if even a little of what he found about the situation in Paris was true, then Gotham was a frankly ridiculous choice.
“Why would you escape a city with one terrorist to a city hosting a dozen, plus gangs, and the occasional alien invasion!?”
“Find me a major city on earth that has avoided having one alien invasion in it by this point,” Damian sneers back.
“Damian-” he starts again, his head aching with the clear pain of why-is-stubborness-genetic but his youngest remains a bulwark of refusal, stiffening his shoulders with a determined edge that triples the pain in Bruce's head.
“No. I proved I am under no outside influences twice. There is no compulsion to steal, reveal information, or engage in self-destructive behavior. Marinette openly and fully admitted to using magic; she is not trying to hide anything. Your suspicion is needless.” Here, he turns to Jason. “And your words are vulgar and untrue, and if you persist upon this course, I will demand retribution.”
He needed to nip this in the bud yesterday. “Damian, you attack your brother, and you’re benched.” Damian’s jaw flexes as he fights to hold back whatever he clearly wants to say. Restraint it may be, but Damian clearly wants to throw caution to the wind and lose it on his older brother.
Meanwhile, Jason leans back against the wall with a dark smirk. “You, demon brat, are letting your dick think for you for the first time, and I’m gonna laugh and say I told you so when this blows up in your face.”
“I am doing no such thing,” Damian hisses, hands clenched on the cave railing, white and leaking rage. “You may allow your base feelings to run rampant, but mine are thoroughly subjected to reason. Which is why all of you are wrong.”
“You have no proof, Damian.”
Damian’s smile turns haughty and cold. “Well, neither do you.” Huffing, he draws into himself, walls slamming down, cutting himself off from anything else they might say. “I see that no amount of words will sway you from your preconceptions. I find it galling, Father, that you would let bias overcome reasoning.”
“Your actions aren’t doing much to persuade me otherwise, son.”
“Tt. I see.” Bruce wishes to cross the gorge that's wrenched open between them, but Damian is already turning on his heel in the shower's direction. “When all this plays out as I have said, I will expect an apology for your mistrust.”
“Yeah, when hell freezes over,” Jason shoots back, but Damian doesn’t reengage. The door to the lockers slams with a definitive clang.
Silence lingers; the hum of the Batcomputer and the occasional rustle of wings do little to alleviate tension so thick they could swim through it.
“Well,” says a clipped, clear voice from above. Bruce turns to see Alfred, standing on the stairs, quiet as a mouse. “I do believe that went down rather like a lead balloon,” Alfred’s wry comment can’t even bring a bit of levity to the situation for Bruce, who, on top of his headache, is battling a deep fear that his son is in over his head.
And how odd is that? Damian is his one child he knows can handle matters of an interpersonal nature with the distance their job requires. But this? Battling between believing the best in a person and the danger they might pose?
That is never a fight Bruce wished for his children.
“Bruce, that was the exact opposite of talking to Damian separately. He has an entirely different perspective on this whole situation than we do,” Dick reprimands. And while his eldest is correct, after his own research on the case, Bruce finds himself increasingly agreeing with Jason and Tim that the girl is hardly what she seems.
“Well, I didn’t see you jumpin’ in to defend the girl, golden boy,” Jason sneers. “Come on, do we really believe that this chick isn’t dangerous?”
“There is a distinct difference between dangerous,” Alfred cuts in. “And a danger to us.”
“A distinction that doesn’t matter if we can’t find any information to tell us which she is, Alfred,” says Tim. “Especially when she’s around Damian, who is hardly the most subtle person regarding our skills and occupation.”
“You mean the fact that we run around at night in suits and beat people up?” drawls Jason. “Or the fact he’s a recovering cult assassin?”
“Damian is an adult; he’s been keeping our family secrets quiet for his entire life. He’s not gonna drop the information to a girl he just met, even if he is crushing on her,” Dick says. “I do worry whether he’s trusting her too quickly, though, because of that…”
Alfred would never dignify shrugging, but Bruce imagines this would be a moment where he would. “I hardly think it matters at this point whether that is a wise choice of action or not, Master Dick. Master Damian has set his course and is not to be deterred from it.” The look he pins Bruce with speaks volumes about where he thinks that tendency stemmed from. Bruce would like to counterpoint with Talia’s… everything. “A rather common trait in this family, I do believe.” All three of his boys find elsewhere to look at, while Bruce stands against the accusation alone.
Traitors.
Even still, the situation pings all of his internal alarms, and he’s not gonna let his youngest’s safety rely on a feeling of trust. “As much as I would like to believe in Damian’s judgement, the situation is concerning enough that I believe our worries are justified and not simply paranoia. We’ll have to remain vigilant if Damian doesn’t approach the situation with the caution that a foreign unknown agent requires.”
Alfred’s sigh carries a disappointed air, but the man merely nods. “Very well, sir. Merely keep in check that your worry does not turn into an unfounded witch hunt, lest you alienate a woman who may be innocent.” Observing them all with a discerning glance. “I see that all your limbs are attached and unmarred. Are there any injuries that I can not see?” he asks, pointedly glancing in Tim’s direction.
Tim huffs. “I’m not the only one who hides injuries.”
“No, but you are the only one lacking a spleen, Master Timothy.”
“Patrol was quiet, Alfred, we’re all good,” confirms Dick.
“Then I shall bid you all a good night.”
Bruce grunts as Alfred heads back upstairs, massaging the side of his head as it goes from aching to throbbing with the distinct edge of I-don’t-know-how-to-solve-this, which is a sensation he utterly despises. He’s Batman, solving situations is his entire job.
“Tim, have you or Barbara found anything on Dupain-Cheng or the Paris situation in general?” he asks. Maybe they had better luck than him.
Tim’s demeanor darkens. “No, and I don’t know if we’re going to find anything, either. It’s a communication blackout and seemingly citywide psychosis. It’s an acknowledged fact that attacks happened in Paris from 20XX to 20XX, but nobody else knew about it at the time.” Tim sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “As for Dupain-Cheng, and any sort of social media the girl may have had in that time period, is sparing at best, and outright glitched at worst.”
“Contact Diana, Paris was her home base until recently; she might have more insight as to what happened there than we do.” Bruce hesitates, thinking of the pain this next request will bring. “And see if you can pin down John Constantine for a chat. He’ll be better versed in magical methods of obfuscation.”
Jason scoffs. “Good luck with that, old man. Constantine’s a mindfuck on a good day.” He strides over to his bike.
“And where do you think you’re going?” he asks.
Jason waves him off. “To go beat someone up, or blow something up, I’ll decide on the way.”
“If it’s the latter, be sure it’s condemned and fully abandoned,” yells Tim.
“If the former, anyone from Penguin’s current goon pool would be great,” Dick chimes in. “I think they’re smuggling heroin in through the harbor to Blud. If you get any info, text me.”
Jason grunts, kicking the stand on his bike and shoving the helmet over his head. Bruce wishes for the right words to say, but with how on edge his second son looks, he fears saying the wrong thing will send him tumbling into a rage. Soon enough, it’s just Tim, Dick, and him in the cave.
Tim stretches and suppresses a yawn. “Well, if Damian is gonna make his lack of judgment a public issue, I'd better prepare our PR people to engage in damage control.”
“In the morning, Tim,” he orders.
Tim narrows his eyes. “But-”
“Send the messages to the Leaguers, but leave PR alone. They won’t be awake at this hour anyway, and neither should you. You’re still recovering after forty-eight plus hours awake.” Tim grumbles but obliges, which is good because Bruce is suddenly hit by his own wave of exhaustion that barrels over him like a hurricane. Getting old sucks.
“In the meantime, what should we do about Damian?” Tim asks.
Bruce sighs. “As Dick said, he’s an adult. I can’t ground him or restrict his movements.” Not that he could do that easily when Damian actually was a child, but there was an attempt. “All we can do is keep an eye out and be vigilant.”
“Aren’t we always?” Tim yawns. “I’m crashing here tonight. I don’t feel like driving back to the city. Are you coming in to work tomorrow?”
“I’m still technically out on leave for a few more days.”
“And your ribs are still healing,” says Dick. “Take the time, Bruce, the company can handle itself.”
“You would say that,” grumbles Tim as he leaves. “You’re not the one making sure it doesn’t collapse out from underneath itself, when it’s left alone for two minutes like an understimulated toddler without an iPad.”
“Night, Tim,” Dick calls out. Tim waves back halfheartedly, disappearing through the elevator.
“Staying the night, chum?”
Dick nods, stifling a yawn. “Bruce, you’ve gotta be careful with this one. Alfred’s right, Damian’s not in a state to be persuaded, and if we push him too far…”
“The situation could spiral before we know how to handle it.” He hoped Diana, or even Constantine, would have answers to give him. A direction on how to approach the situation. Because his current method was only alienating Damian. “I wish I could have gotten a chance to speak with him before all this happened.” Poor planning on his part; curse his migraine. Now his son sits against him, even if he brings valid points to the table. While Dupain-Cheng may have remained pleasant for the brief time at the store, that did not mean she always would be. And she had far too much power at her fingertips for them to remain off guard.
“Doubling down on the warnings when he was already riled did not help.” Bruce turns away, grunting. His son was right, but he didn’t have to say it. Dick sighs. “I’m gonna get some sleep. Don’t stay up too late.”
Bruce sits at the computer. Finding what little Barbara and Tim have compiled, he reads over their findings. Opening a new file, and ignoring the lingering ache shooting up the back of his neck - the same one whenever he’s staring down the barrel of a dangerous situation, he starts fresh, maybe this time he’ll find what he didn’t before.
His family and city might depend on it.
A/N: This is for everyone who has commented, kudos, shared, and recced this story. Thank you. Thank you for loving it as I have loved it. It was never far from my mind, and I always wanted to complete it. I'm glad that I could finally put words to a page, and I only hope they are a somewhat fitting end to this story.
Do I ever see myself continuing in this world? Maybe. Never say never. I finally finished this story, didn't I? For now, though, thank you once again, and see you later.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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arranged marriage Daminette . . . but make it more realistic and angsty
you know how in arranged marriage tropes with Daminette it's basically love at first sight with each other?
we're serving none of that
the two just forced into a marriage bond while going through Shit™️
like maybe Damian was in love with someone else like Raven or Jon but it was unresolved and unrequited
or Marinette had just gotten out of a breakup or is too busy with Guardian duties to ever commit to a romantic relationship
first impressions could've gotten better because again,,, they were strangers, forced to meet with each other regularly or some sht or else the magical bond hurts them
they keep it a secret from others ofc
and maybe they know each other's identity. and hate each other more because of it
she doesnt like him bc he's Robin, and part of the justice league that ignored paris in the past or were trying to get into the city at the risk of being akumatized
and he knows she's the guardian but doesnt like that she's too 'incompetent' against hawkmoth, and hasn't figured his identity after so long
but each other's company is inescapable and with the power of forced proximity they understand each other more. it's slow, but there's progress
oh! and lets say one of them gets hurt and the other basically has a realization that the idea of losing them doesnt. feel. good.
strangers to reluctant spouses to sort-of friends to friends who somehow found comfort in each other to lovers
Damien saying "I know a guy" but it's just Marinette in various costumes
I have this idea that won't leave me alone, so I thought I'd share it so that others may be cursed with thinking about it too.
(This can be read as either sibling or dating Daminette)
Damien is all grown up and joined the Justice League as a permanent hero. Everyone knows he was Robin, so they think there won't be any surprises. Until there's a big mission and they need to infiltrate somewhere and plant cameras for evidence (or something). However, this place is a fortress (like the best anti-hero security money can buy) and the only way in is through the vents which are too small for humans to fit through.
The Justice League meeting turns into one big loud argument. Until Damien says, "I know a guy."
Obviously, he's very dodgy about his contact, but he says they can be trusted. Since, he's Robin, they let it slide.
The Justice League is all waiting at the contact spot when Marinette pulls up. They're confused, Damien is light-tipped, and she's in her multimouse ensemble looking all cute.
Marinette pulls off the mission then dips and Damien is stubborn even when Batman questions him. (Could be either good parent or bad parent Bruce Wayne).
Eventually, they let it drop. Until another big mission happens and they need a specific skill set and Damien says, "I know a guy." Cue Marinette with a different miraculous.
This keeps happening.
The Justice League assumes all the girls are different people and they're very confused like, "Robin, where do you keep finding these girls?"
"Habibiti." Damian spoke, "Would you explain to me what happened? It appeared he was distracted from his true intentions."
Mari sighed, "That was Adrien. He walked in on the class screaming at me."
"Why?" He growled.
"That lying bitch I told you about." she answered, "She decided to leave somewhere again and told them it was because I was stalking them on their 'date'. Adrien yelled at them for being idiots and that he wasn't dating her. I'm pretty sure he just gave them a whole new reason to doubt her."
"How do you feel about her demise?" Damian questioned.
Mari smiled, "She'll never see it coming."
Damian smirked.
'That’s my girl.'
Lila stared at her phone, in hand. She hesitated for one second before quickly dialing Alya's number. With bated breath she listened as it sent her directly to voicemail.
'Did she just block me? Since when does Miss Goody-Goody have a "biker boyfriend"? What happened to her wanting Adrien? Did something happen between them I don’t know about?' I can't even use Adrien as an excuse anymore! There's no way that Adrien Agreste would choose some guy over me! I'm exotic. I'm a model! I can literally make his life better and his dad likes me!'
Lila quickly brought up Marinette's social media, but found she had been blocked. Lila groaned as she quickly made a new account. The screen was blank; Marinette had the sense to private all of her accounts. Irritated, Lila tried calling Rose. No answer. Mylene? Nothing. Panic began to set in as she called her classmates, but no one was responding ding.
'They always take my calls!'
She felt a sense of relief as her phone pinged.
'Natalie! Perfect; I can-'
Lila dropped her phone in horror.
"I'm fired?" She whispered.
'What the fuck is going on and why now, when I'm stuck on this stupid farm?'
Konner sighed as he flew thru the open hotel window. Damian and Marinette were cuddled up on the couch watching a movie.
"Can someone explain to me why I am here?" He asked, "Jon called me screaming that I needed to pack a bag and come to Paris. To find you."
"I knew he was bored, without me, but not that bored." Damian chuckled.
DING
I'm not that bored!-Jon
"You are eavesdropping." Damian spoke, "You are bored."
DING
I was making sure you got there safe!-Jon
"Well, I suggest eavesdropping on the other side of the planet, soon." Damian hissed.
DING
Damian and Marinette turned to look at Kon. He huffed and pulled out his phone.
Is Mari in the hotel with him? Does she have a bag?-Jon
He rolled his eyes before typing back: YES
DING
I'll let him tell you-Jon
Kon groaned, "He said you would explain."
"Someone decided to drool over Dami." Mari began.
"And she's in what hospital?"
"He is very much not injured and wanted someone like Dami, but 'Not so angry-looking in the face'." she continued, making him chuckle.
"I am being….set up?" Kon realized.
"Yes." Damian answered.
"Uh, it might go well, it might not." Marinette quickly interjected, "It's the first time he's spoken that he's interested in guys, in general."
"What expression did Jason use?" Damian asked, "He pulls bottom energy?"
Kon looked at him confused.
"His last realtionship was with a girl who was stong, commanding, and spoke her mind. From what I can assume, he thouht Damian was the same and you might be too." Mari explained.
"He likes strong people." Kon seemed to understand.
Mari scoffed, "I thought he was going to lick my phone when I showed him your picture from the last BBQ."
"What was I wearing?" Kon asked, trying to remember.
"You're jacket and super shirt." Marinette looked up and smiled, "I thought his brain was going to explode."
"You at least seem to appease him physically." Damian interjected, "If you do not like him, you can go back home an d pretend it never happened."
Kon sighed, "Fine, but I'm leaving my stuff here. I'll be back in a few hours."
Adrien had asked if they could stop at Marinette's bakery really quick. They were an hour ahead of schedule. He only had a few questions to ask her. Natalie didn't need to know they were about Kon.
"Adrien, how lovely to see you." Sabine smiled, "Would you like a crossaint?"
"No, thank you." he chuckled, wishing he could say yes, "Can I speak to Marinette?"
"Oh, sorry Adrien." Sabine replied, "She's staying with Damian until he goes home."
"She….You…You let her stay with her boyfriend?" Adrien questioned, in shock.
'Father won't even let me have a friend over!'
"Of course." Tom spoke, coming out from the back, "We trust them both completely and we know how protective he is of her."
"Are you implying your daughter is…active?" Nat asked, uncomfortable.
Tom and Sabine started laughing, "If only! We would love a grandchild1"
Adrien turned red, realizing Natalie's question.
"Damian said he would wait until she graduates and secures her business." Tom explained.
Sabine nodded, "They have some more contracts to work through with her lawyer."
'Business? Lawyer?'
"Marinette has….her business up already?" Adrien questioned.
'I thought she wanted to work for Father.'
"Well, her clients have been talking with her about the things they didn't like from previous designers who didn't listen to them, things they would like, timelines, pricings; that sort of thing." Sabine continued, "Damian and his family are merely helping her work out how her contracts would look like in the future."
"I don't believe you have mentioned a 'Damian' in your class." Natalie spoke up.
"Oh, Damian lives in the Unites States." Tom stated, "They have a long distance relationship and after graduation, she'll be moving to his family's home."
"She's moving!" the model cried out.
Tom and Sabine looked at him confused, "She said she told the class."
Adrien shocked faced turned crestfallen, "I found out the class hasn't been nice to her, lately. She probably did, but they didn't believe her. I don't think I was there. I think the class is just now realizing that they bullied her."
"Never let Damian here you say those words!" a voice snapped behind them.
Adrien turned and saw the guy from Marinette's phone. He instantly felt his cheeks flush.
'He's here! He's hotter in person!'
"Konner, my boy!" Tom exclaimed, hugging him, "Marinette said you were coming to help with the bakery today!"
"As best as I can." Kon shrugged, embarrassed, "I'm more use to helping on a farm than making pies."
"If I can do it, so can you!" Tom laughed.
"What would this Damian do is he learned Miss Dupain-Cheng was bullied?" Natalie questioned, trying to piece together how bad this person would be.
Kon sighed, "Damian isn't subtle in what he cares about. He cares about his family, his pets, friends, and Marinette. He doesn't say it, but Marinette is at the top of his list and his family knows it! If he walked into a room and she was crying, he would attack his family to find out who hurt her and she could have just stubbed her toe."
"Last month, some girl tried to kiss him on Valentine's Day; he broke her jaw. Her parents were upset and demanded compensation. Damian argued he would sue her for sexual harassment and assult. He explained he had a girlfriend and their daughter attacked him. Bruce did confirm to the parents that Damian was dating and she wasn't at the school, but he knew who she was. The girl typed on her phone that she thought he was flirting with her. Damian didn't even know that they sat next to each other in two separate classes. Her parents demanded she apologize for her ….delusional fantasies. They said she always believed in fairy tales and about prince charming. Damian told them she obviously needed therapy if she had the same mentality as a five year old. She broke down crying and left. Her classes were changed after that." He continued, "If anything, Damian is in Paris because he's bored. His mom taught him everything and he only talks to my brother at school. He doesn't even need to go to school; Bruce has him go to be social with his own age group. Bruce probably doesn't care because he's calmer around Marinette and less violent. The Waynes love her for that, alone."
"Wayne?" Natalie asked, "As in-"
"Damian Wayne, the youngest and only son of Bruce Wayne." Kon smirked, holding out his hand, "I’m Konner Kent, cousin of Clark Kent from the Daily Planet. The Kent and Waynes are close friends."
Natalie gripped the tablet, feeling nauseous. They had already fired Lila after Adrien's tantrum, but this would have made them immediatley terminate her. Lila was creating rumors about Damian Wayne's girlfriend; Gabriel couldn't handle that level of bad press.
Kon turned towards Adrien and winked, "They also mentioned you wanted to see me."
Adrien just nodded.
"How about tomorrow; if your schedule allows it." Konner pressed.
"He has a free day tomorrow." Natalie declared, already deleting the schedule.
Adrien turned and smiled at him, brightly.
'I thought Jon was the only person who could look like a puppy.'
An alarm sounded off and Kon saw the light from Adrien's eyes drain in an instant.
"Adrien, you have a shoot in thirty minutes." she announced.
"Yes, Natalie." he responded, turning to leave, "Uh,…..tomorrow, here, at noon?"
Kon nodded, wondering what kind of person he just agreed to date.
