what was Alastor and Carmine!reader’s meet cute like? I gotta know!
I know you talked about it in the dating headcanons, but can I request it as a story please?
The dating heacanons here...
The Overlord Council was in session, a grand hall filled with the usual suspects: schemers, manipulators, and the occasional demon whose idea of diplomacy was threatening everyone with various implements of destruction. Alastor, as always, sat with his impeccable posture, radiating charm and menace in equal measure. His voice crackled through the room like a delightful radio broadcast, full of enthusiasm that could unsettle even the most stoic demons.
You sat across the hall, notebook open but mostly ignoring the meeting’s formalities. You had known of Alastor for some time—overhearings, whispered stories, and the occasional dramatic display at previous meetings. His reputation preceded him, but it never diminished the fact that he was… ridiculously handsome, in that old-Hollywood, dangerous kind of way.
And funny. Infuriatingly funny.
Keep it together, you thought, hiding a grin as Alastor leaned over the table, making a deadpan comment about another Overlord’s tie. You’re here to observe, not swoon.
You had taken to sneaking glances at him throughout the meetings, biting your lip or covering your mouth when a snicker threatened to escape. It had become a subtle game —Alastor oblivious, you trying not to betray amusement, the council droning on around them.
Then came the day everything changed.
Vox, ever the pompous show-off, was pontificating about some new scheme—loud, obnoxious, and entirely overconfident. Alastor’s grin widened, a slow, gleaming smile that promised entertainment.
“My dear Vox,” Alastor began, voice crackling with static charm, “such confidence! Such verve! But perhaps… your plan is a tad…insufficient?”
Vox’s smug expression faltered. “Insufficient? Are you questioning—”
“Indeed!” Alastor interrupted, the energy in his voice swirling like an old-timey radio performance. “It is laughably insufficient. A mere puppet show compared to the orchestra I envision!”
The council murmured, impressed—or terrified, it was hard to tell. Vox sputtered, flustered, and Alastor’s grin grew, dramatic and theatrical.
And then it happened.
You, unable to contain yourself, snorted audibly—a sharp, unrestrained sound that echoed through the chamber. You froze, hand over your mouth, cheeks heating with embarrassment.
Oh no… oh no…!
Alastor’s head turned sharply, red eyes locking onto yours immediately. There was a brief, almost comical pause as the radio-static crackle of his laughter filled the room—not mocking, but delighted.
“Well, well!” he exclaimed, pointing a perfectly clawed finger at you. “What have we here? A delightful sound emerging from the depths of this otherwise dreary gathering!”
Your face heated up some more, but you raised your chin, trying to act composed. “I… uh… apologize, I wasn’t—”
“Nonsense, my dear! I find it charming, utterly charming!” Alastor said, still smiling. “I must say, it is rather refreshing to hear genuine amusement amidst such tedious scheming.
Your heart skipped. That was… a compliment, wasn’t it?
The rest of the meeting continued, but something had shifted. Alastor, now fully aware of your presence, couldn’t help but steal glances. Each subtle laugh, each glance at your notes, became a private broadcast in his mind.
For you, the meeting suddenly felt lighter, brighter. And perhaps, just perhaps, you found herself hoping he would notice you again—not for scheming, not for manipulation, but for the sheer pleasure of sharing in your laughter.
As the council adjourned, Alastor’s eyes met yours once more. His smile held promise, teasing, and that dangerous glimmer of attention that made your pulse quicken.
-----------------------------------
The council chamber had emptied, leaving behind only a faint scent of brimstone and ambition. You lingered near the ornate exit, gathering your notes and trying to suppress the lingering warmth of embarrassment from your snort. You hadn’t realized it, but someone was walking toward you, their steps smooth, deliberate, and accompanied by a faint static hum.
“Ah… there you are!” Alastor’s voice broke through the quiet. His grin was wide, eyes glinting like a radio dial tuned just right. “I must say, I have been quite intrigued since that… delightful sound you produced.”
You froze, cheeks heating anew. “I… I—”
“No need to apologize!” Alastor waved a hand, as if brushing off a trivial inconvenience. “In fact, I find it most… revealing. A demon who laughs freely amidst the dreary plots of Overlords? How utterly… refreshing.”
Refreshing? He’s calling me refreshing? Your heart stuttered in a way you weren’t ready to admit aloud.
You swallowed and forced a casual shrug. “Well, I suppose it’s hard not to find your theatrics entertaining. You do have a… certain flair for the dramatic.”
Alastor chuckled, the sound crackling pleasantly. He leaned slightly closer, tilting his head with playful curiosity. “I must confess, I had not anticipated finding an audience so… attentive. So, you find me… entertaining?”
You hesitated, then smirked, trying to mask the flutter in your chest. “Perhaps. A bit. In a terrifying, completely unpredictable kind of way.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment!” His grin widened, his eyes sparkled with a mischievous light. “Tell me, my dear, will we have more opportunities to… observe one another? Perhaps… without the prying eyes of the entire council?”
You hesitated, but something in his tone—warm, curious, subtly teasing—pushed aside your caution. “Maybe. I… suppose we could arrange that.”
A low, static-laced laugh escaped him, soft but filled with genuine delight. “Splendid! It's still lunchtime, and I happen to know of a lovely little cafe. I'd enjoy some delightful company to join me. And you, my dear, are most certainly… delightful.”
For the first time, you felt something different—not the infuriating, untouchable reputation of the Radio Demon, not just amusement, but interest.
She ends up stranded on the way to a party, dressed to the nines and has to wander through an unfamiliar town to find somewhere to call a ride back home.
The only open sign comes from a game bar where patron and local hearder of freaks, Eddie Munson, happens to be hosting a dnd meeting.
The room stops when she walks in and true to his nature, Eddie cannot help but take lost sheep under his wing.
Their stares and whispers make her visibly nervous but she has no other option so she straightens her shoulders and walks to the bar to ask for the phone.
Meanwhile, the chatter of the room slowly creeps back to a neutral volume— no doubt some of the conversations being about the mystery woman who stumbled into their local meeting place.
Eddie though, has yet to even breathe. This is maybe the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. He watches as the bashful bartender takes the phone back from you and you slump against the bar. Clearly, the call you made hadn’t been helpful.
He decides to step in, eliciting a wave of teasing as the Hellfire boys watch him push his chair back and approach the pretty lady who had already become a tale to tell.
“Quite the entrance.” He hums as he sits a few seats down from you. You look up and offer a halfhearted scoff of amusement.
“Didn’t know I’d be intruding on anything.” You chuckle. He cringes sympathetically.
“Yeah, sorry about that. Everyone is welcome here it’s just.. this demographic isn’t really used to someone of your.. caliber.” He admits. “Don’t take that the wrong way.” He adds with raised hands in mock defence.
You laugh at that and his heart sings.
“No, no, I think that’s a compliment?” You chuckle.
“It is.” He says earnestly, as if you didn’t know the full magnitude of what your presence in their little bar would amount to tonight. They would surely reminisce for years to come.
“Can I ask?” He continues, gesturing vaguely but you get what he means.
“Taxi broke down on the way to my friends birthday. I didn’t bring enough cash to pay for another one plus the fair back home. You know how they like to overcharge.” He nods as you explain. “And now my cry for help has gone unanswered so..” you chuckle in defeat.
“I could give you a ride if you want?” He offers without thinking about it, like it’s second nature for him to step up. “I haven’t been drinking tonight. Not when I’m responsible for that flock of sheep over there.” He points behind him to the band of younger boys who promptly turn back to their character sheets and fake a conversation as you turn to look. It’s endearing.
“Get into a car with a stranger?” You tease.
“Consider it a noble steed.”
“Does that make me a damsel in distress?”
“Depends. Does that make me a knight in shining.. leather?” He looks down at himself with a playful frown. You laugh again. He’s good at making you forget the mess you’re in.
“Look, no pressure at all. If you’re not comfortable with that then I’m sure we can go without an extra pizza and pool our resources so you can call another cab.” He offers. Mike grumbles something over at the table and Dustin smacks his arm.
You think for a moment before sighing decisively.
“I couldn’t deprive your weary travellers of such sustenance.” Eddies eyes light up and he tries to stifle a grin. It seems you’re a nerd in disguise.
“Then the choice is clear.” He grins. Standing from his stool and bowing slightly, he guides your path with a gentle hand. You giggle. Thank god, you giggle.
You stand, gathering your purse and heading towards to door, towing along beside him as your heels clack against the old wooden floor.
Every single table you leave behind turns to gawk in shock and awe. As if the event of the decade taking place tonight hadn’t been enough of a story, Eddie Munson leaves with the mystery maiden? He’s already steeling himself for the swarm of questions he’s going to be met with when he returns.
“I never asked your name.” You wonder as you exit the building. He scolds himself at being so distracted.
“Shit—sorry. I’m Eddie.” He offers with an apologetic grin. When you respond with your own name he has to fight back the urge to let out a dreamy sigh.
“Well, Lady Y/N..” he opens the passanger door for you. “Your chariot awaits.”
‘Haha yeah! I mean, they do more than that these days. They did a face reveal last year, and really blew up from there. They’re so cute! They wear all these kinda goofy clothes in real life, but it looks so cool. I got their autograph last year at ScreamCon, they’re actually really sweet too. They’re just so COOL. I don’t know how else to say it. I’m so obsessed.’
✨‘…Yeah. Yeah… me too…’✨
John’s first sighting of an Angel. I’ve had this sketch in my book forever and ever, and I’m under the weather rn and so finishing up old things is easy and fun. He was already in love with Caro Greene’s voice, but now his Embarrassing Celebrity Crush has been unlocked for good.
Mads, John and Caro are from my comics Seemingly Dark and Mil-Liminal on Webtoon and Tapas, and you can listen to Caro’s podcast Mil-Liminal for free wherever you get your audio fiction!
Tim hadn’t slept in seventy-two hours. He’s running on caffeine, spite, and a playlist titled “please let me die but after the report.”
He’s halfway through another cold cup at Janny’s 24-Hour Café (the unofficial ceasefire zone of Gotham) when the ceiling explodes.
Like—actually explodes. Glass, smoke, some unholy green light, and then a guy lands in the middle of the café. A glowing guy.
He looks around, dazed, and goes:
“Do you serve ecto-infused espresso, or is that just a me problem?”
Tim’s so tired he doesn’t even blink. He just goes, “Medium or large?”
Batman’s on comms like: “Report.”
Tim: “I think I found a ghost.”
Bruce: “Do not engage.”
Tim: already handing him his own coffee mug
Anyway, the ghost guy’s name tag says “Danny” and he orders extra whipped cream. Tim hasn’t smiled in days but he does now, which is probably a problem.
A One Direction fic rec of my favorite meet cute fics as requested in this ask. You can find part one of this rec here. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other recs here. Happy reading!
- Louis / Harry -
💜 From Dust to Lust by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom
(E, 45k, fate) the one where Louis and Harry are fly-in-fly-out mine workers, coincidences are totally a thing, karaoke is an underrated form of foreplay, and the universe most definitely works in mysterious ways.
💜 You're Not My Type (still I fall) by Imogenlee / @imogenleewriter
(M, 38k, omegaverse) This is just a bit of rain; it'll blow over. Then Harry will just... well, alright, he isn't entirely sure what to do when the rain stops because he'll still be stuck and lost.
💜 I Keep Looking For Magic by @lululawrence
(NR, 36k, Christmas) Harry cannot go home alone when he had promised to bring a significant other again. This leaves him with little choice but to find someone to pretend they are his fiance.
💜 Single Bells Ring by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense
(M, 16k, non traditional omegaverse) A holiday singles event is not where Louis wants to be tonight, but there he is, helping his best friend find love. Just as Louis is settling in, ready to have a terrible time, he meets the fittest alpha he’s ever come across.
💜 Breathe me in, breathe me out by @lunarheslwt
(G, 14k, omegaverse) Louis is drawn into a quaint candle shop in his desire to find ways to soothe himself while struggling with touch depri. It takes him two more run-ins and with the lovely alpha sales assistant, and a drop, to figure out the source of the scent that imprints upon him and calms his omega.
💜 High heels on, 'm feeling alive by thebreadvan / @thebreadvansstuff
(M, 14k, uni) Harry damages a car when drunkenly stumbling home after a fun night out with his friends. Feeling horribly guilty, he tries to find the owner and make it up to him.
💜 Eyes on the Horizon by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright
(E, 12k, age difference) Freshly dumped, recently fired, and about to turn 40, Harry's friends insist on taking him skydiving to cheer him up.
💜 Lacy Little Secret by hazzahtomlinson / @itsnotreal
(E, 6k, bachelor party) Harry learned a very valuable lesson that day: always check to make sure it’s the right car before getting in.
💜 I’ll Keep You Warm by @parmahamlarrie
(T, 6k, neighbors) He’s lived on the same street for years and barely would recognize the buildings, let alone his neighbours. That’s all about to change however, due to a broken key and an unexpected snow storm.
💜 Love Mail by @neondiamond
(G, 5k, neighbors) the one where Harry and Louis keep mistakenly receiving each other’s mail (and also fall in love)
💜 Body Stay Vicious by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28
(E, 5k, gym) the one where Harry is feeling himself in the gym and gets a little carried away. Of course his gym crush just happens to walk in. They work it out.
💜 (your smile is) on every face by @justanothershadeofblue
(T, 5k, famous/not famous) Harry streams the whole thing, too overwhelmed to sing along, clutching his phone above his head as Louis whips the fans into a frenzy, playing both sides of the stage before staking a claim to the middle.
💜 Three Hundred Cupcakes Later by Larry_you_know / @larryyouknow
(G, 5k, party) Louis finds Christmas parties usually too boring or too rowdy. Nothing in between. And this one was definitely bordering on lame... Until he spotted the most handsome man watching him.
💜 Pretty and Preposterous by @brightlyharry
(NR, 5k, neighbors) Harry donates a copy of Pride and Prejudice to his little free library. He never expects what comes next.
💜 Come On and Rescue Me by @kingsofeverything
(E, 3k, social media) Louis only intends to watch his hot neighbor’s Instagram live, but he winds up with his hand down his pants.
💜 Green Coffee and Morning People by @insightfulinsomniac
(T, 3k, uni) Louis has a crush on the prettiest boy he’s ever seen — the curly-haired guy who sits next to him in his Community Psych class and brings strangely-colored drinks to class with him each day.
💜 Stole My Heart by @haztobegood
(NR, 2k, humor) "I just reached into a box of free samples outside that new chicken restaurant. Only it wasn’t free samples. It was a man. Holding a box of chicken nuggets. His chicken nuggets. I stole this man’s food, Niall!”
💜 Oh Little Town of BATHlehem by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup
(G, 2k, humor) Louis Tomlinson needs a small pink bathtub. He needs it. His fucking family had forgotten to include him in the email chain for Doris for Christmas, with her very carefully thought out Christmas list, until every easy item was gone. So, it’s either a small pink bathtub or an entire bouncy castle.
💜 Charm Your Pants Off by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou
(G, 2k, Christmas) When Harry hurt himself in front of all of his coworkers, he thought his Christmas Eve couldn’t get any worse. That was, until he ended up in an actual ambulance. Perhaps the gentle and ridiculously attractive doctor he meets at the hospital can make his trip (pun absolutely intended) worth it?
💜 scent holding me ransom by larryftnoctrl / @the-larry-way
(E, 1k, omegaverse) Louis is obsessed with the scent of an omega he's never seen. Harry knows his dirty secret.
💜 On Love's Doorstep by @hellolovers13
(T, 1k, neighbors) Harry Styles: a day in the life ☑ Stuck in a dress ☑ Abandoned by his best friend ☑ Date with hot neighbour All in all, not the worst day ever
- Rare Pairs -
💜 Worth the Risk by Lhhome / @lhhomefics
(E, 5k, Louis/Lando Norris) The one where Lando Norris just wants to flirt with the cute guy he saw from across the room and Louis finally finds someone who is worth the risk.
💜 Choo-Choose Me by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13
(G, 3k, Liam/Louis) Liam is a commuter with a crush. Louis is the chirpy ticket inspector who occasionally mans the drinks trolley and sometimes makes announcements, his broad Yorkshire accent fighting the outdated train speakers. The train ships it.
hi, it's been a while since I've seen u open ur requests.
Can I get a request for a scenario where Fem y/n works as a waitress for like, Bulma's parties. And one day at her break, she's gets so focused on drawing something on one of those Yoga Lenovo laptops. That she doesn’t notice that Beerus was watching her curiously the whole time.
And after she notices him, she doesn’t know how to react, and just suddenly hands Beerus her pen. Asking if he wants to try drawing something on her Yoga laptop.
(Bruh I had this scenario in my head for some time now, lol.)
Hope your doing well in ur studies btw.
I'm here feeling weird because I have a Yoga Lenovo laptop :v (Also feeling lazy, so I won't do a cover)
Beerus is a total cat, literally
Y/N works part-time as a waitress during Bulma's extravagant parties, the kind where she's constantly on her feet, dodging the chaos of Saiyans and guests that eat enough for 10. She doesn't usually get much time to herself, but during a rare break, she sits at one of the quiet balconies with her laptop. Screen glowing softly in the afternoon light as she gets lost in her sketches, absorbed, her stylus gliding across the display.
So absorbed, she doesn't realize someone's watching her.
Beerus stands nearby, curiosity in his eyes. It's rare for anything to hold his attention for so long, yet here he is, intrigued by the strange little device.
When Y/N finally looks up, nearly dropped her pen in shock. How long had he been there!?
She panics a bit, and, unsure of what to do under his amused gaze, she blurts the first thing that comes to mind. "Uh... do you... Want to draw something?" She said, holding out the stylus toward him.
Beerus tilted his head slightly, ears flicking as he crouched beside the table, way too close for comfort. He peered at the screen, tail swishing lazily behind him. "So... this contraption makes art, does it?" he mused one claw tapping the display.
"Y-yeah," she managed to say, "you can draw directly on it with this pen." She offered it again, trying to sound calm.
Beerus accepted and examined it as though it were some exotic delicacy. Then with an oddly catlike motion... he sniffed the tip of the pen. "... It doesn't smell edible."
...
She blinked. "... It's not..."
"Hmph. What a shame." He shrugged and then, suddenly, tapped the screen. A bold, chaotic line slashed across a carefully shaded sketch.
"What the-! That was a whole hour of work!"
Beerus glanced at her blankly. "Well, it's art now, isn't it?" He gestured grandly to the crooked, wobbly line. "A masterpiece of destruction expression. I should call it 'The worlds destroyer'."
Y/N's mouth fell open. He started pawing at the pen, flicking it in his fingers with interest. "It moves so easily..." he murmured, eyes narrowed. Before she could stop him, he batted it off the edge of the table. It hit the floor with a soft clack.
Both stared at it.
Beerus looked at her unbothered. "What are you waiting for? Retrieve it for me"
Y/N sighed, rubbing her temple. "You've gotta be kidding-"
He blinked slowly. "Was that a 'no'?" he said while his hand slowly started pushing her laptop, not breaking eye contact.
"Okay! Okay, fine!" she yelped, scrambling to grab the pen. She handed it back to him. "Please don't erase the planet because of a pen."
Beerus hummed approvingly and leaned back, pleased with himself. "A wise mortal, you learn quickly." He then drew another messy line on her drawing. "Then. Now it's perfect, you should frame it. Not everyone gets their work personally vandalized by a god."
Louis goes to a new coffee shop on Friday morning, where his friend Zayn just started working. The guy in front of him in line is hot, but Louis chickens out and doesn’t make a move. He doesn’t think anything of it until he wakes up the next morning and it’s still Friday.
Caught in a time loop and reliving the same day over and over, Louis is determined to try anything to get out of it. Even if that means overcoming his fears.
Another Boldly Fic! Impressed Against my Better Judgement! A 1+5 fic that's been up on AO3 for a while now
Link to AO3
“I can not go up to someone I don’t know and say something like that,” Marinette said, appalled and slightly nauseous.
“Oh come on, it’s not like you have a choice,” Alya said cheerfully, grinning when Marinette glowered. “You lost the bet, time to pay up.”
“Please, just give me something else to do. Anything else,” Marinette begged, seriously considering getting onto her knees. “Didn’t you want me to apologise to Lila for something or other? I’ll do it, no questions asked-”
“That’s not something that should come from a bet,” Alya cut in, frowning. “Besides, I just want you to get out of your comfort zone a little, and this is the perfect time to do it! Now take that petite little rear of yours over to the guy you’ve been staring at for the past hour and do it.”
Grumbling and cursing Nino and Adrien for already telling Alya the results of their exams, before they told her. Adrien was supposed to be her best friend! Sure, they’d broken up and weren’t dating anymore, but they were still really good friends, right? It wasn’t fair. Still, a bet was a bet so she was going to have to suck it up. Maybe he wasn’t as difficult to approach as everyone said…who was she kidding? She was going to be eviscerated by his well-known anger and prickliness and she would deserve it.
Approaching the pretty young man with green eyes and dark hair, she saw the way his friend raised his eyebrows at her, though he looked like he was sympathetic towards her. Clearly this wasn’t the first time someone had come over to say something to Damian Wayne and he already knew how it was going to end. It was a good thing she already knew how it was going to end or she would be getting really upset now.
“Hi,” she said, pitching her voice just slightly louder than necessary. No way was she giving Alya any way of saying she didn’t do this and making her do something even more humiliating as a result. “I know I just met you, and this is kind of crazy but…call me, maybe?”
Her hand didn’t tremble as she held out the slip of paper with her number on it, but after several moments of him staring at it like something disgusting rather than an innocuous piece of paper she began to lower it. She was fairly sure he saw when she swallowed hard, though he didn’t immediately start berating her which was a plus. Probably he was waiting for the rest of the room to quieten so nobody would miss the inevitable scathing remarks.
“Maybe not,” he said, turning away from her and stalking out of the room without a backwards glance. Blushing bright red, Marinette squeaked an apology to Damian’s friend and scurried back to her friends. What a fabulous start to her week in Gotham.
_ _ _
Damian hadn’t had high hopes for the forced friendship week between his school and the French one, but he had at least hoped that he would be given a wide berth based solely on his reputation. Sadly, someone had the audacity not only to approach him, but to use a horrendous pop culture pick up line as she did so. If he’d been in Nanda Parbat, he would have had her tongue cut out and forced her into public humiliation far greater than the dismissal he had decided upon.
“Aww, she was kind of cute,” Jon said, shaking his head at his best friend as they made their way to the first event of this friendship week. It was going to be a display of athleticism and weaponry, at Damian’s behest because if he was to be forced to deal with these people he was going to get to do things he preferred. He might even deign to take on their most proficient fighter, if they were adequate. “I can’t believe you didn’t take her number.”
“Please, she was ‘cringe’,” Damian replied, stepping over the threshold into the gymnasium they were to use for the event. “And nobody would respect me any longer if I allowed that sort of behaviour from a stranger.”
“It was still mean,” Jon argued, walking beside him. Damian rolled his eyes and looked over the motley crowd from two schools. The girl from before was the only one stretching fully, though her friend was giving a half hearted attempt next to her, and a blond boy with a dopey smile was using a skipping rope to warm up. “Don’t you want to make friends with any of the French students? It’s kind of the whole point of this exchange.”
“To what end? It is hardly as though I need the connections,” Damian scoffed, deciding to do a light warm up in case he did compete.
The ordinary students were every bit as dull as he had expected, although the blond - Agreste, the model son of a fashion designer - was surprisingly capable with a staff which piqued his interest. He was all but ready to demand to be let out of the hall when the same girl from before - she was announced as nothing more than ‘Marinette, the class president’ - stepped forward when the teacher in charge announced the hand-to-hand events.
Curious in spite of himself, he lingered, eyes narrowing when one of the more athletic Gotham students stepped onto the mats with a cocky smirk and a leering look. It wasn’t unusual for said student to put himself in the position of manhandling female students, and Damian frowned when the teacher didn’t immediately decline in favour of someone on the same level as the petite Parisian.
“What is O’Donnell thinking?” Jon muttered, echoing Damian’s thoughts perfectly. “She’s tiny! He can’t expect her to…”
Damian’s eyebrows rose to nearly his hairline when the match started and the girl - Marinette - pounced. It was the only way to describe what she did, her limbs full of a fluid grace that made Damian itch to face her himself. He wouldn’t - he’d already had to dissuade her interest in him, he didn’t want to change her correct assumption that he wasn’t going to bother with her - but he was curious as to how she would try to counter some of his own moves.
The match, if one wanted to call it that, was short and direct enough that whispers exploded across the room when it ended. And nobody dared to challenge her again.
_ _ _
At the end of the first day with the French class, Damian was well and truly ready to do something, anything, else. He had felt eyes on him for the entire day, and it filled him with an impotent rage that he couldn’t make an example of anyone. The interaction with Marinette had been mild enough that even his classmates were behaving differently toward him, and he half wished he had fully snapped at her if just to meet their usual expectations.
He was delayed once more when the French class seemed to be congregating in the entryway, a reluctance to leave and go back to their hotel obvious among them. Huffing and preparing to barge through the middle of them, he was pulled short when Marinette shouted above the babble and commanded silence in the class with only two words. Clearly she had a deft hand for controlling the rabble, and she wielded her power with grace.
It became apparent very quickly that she was used to herding the group into doing what they were meant to be, and she swiftly succeeded in getting them to pair up and move to the exit for their bus ride to the hotel. Putting herself last, she counted them off as they entered the vehicle, only allowing herself to get onto the bus when she was sure everyone was present. It was fascinating to watch her no nonsense approach, her behaviour almost Alfred like in the way she was listened to almost without question.
He knew he was staring at her but couldn’t pull his eyes away, his desire to know more about her becoming stronger against his own wishes. Which is why he was caught in her gaze when she evidently noticed his attention and looked over at him. A wariness that he highly respected faded into something more like shame when she noticed who he was, and her cheeks blazed into a charming rouge before she scurried onto the bus herself.
Glad that most other students had already gone for the day, Damian shook himself from his stupor and headed towards his own vehicle so that he could journey home.
_ _ _
Two days later, Robin was patrolling when he got an alert that five tourists had been spotted near Crime Alley. Cursing under his breath, he quickly worked out that it must be some of the French class because of the descriptions Oracle was able to give him, and he tried to leap faster through the city to ensure they got into no trouble. The last thing he needed was for there to be a tragedy that he could prevent.
Unfortunately, Gotham did what it usually did and Robin arrived at the scene at least two minutes after the group had been accosted by two older thugs. He immediately recognised Agreste, and Marinette’s friend, neither of which were cowering like two of the others were. But standing in front of everyone with her hands on her hips and her jaw clenched was the only interesting Parisian to be on the trip. The sight of her made him falter for half a second, his foot scuffing the fire escape he landed on.
The thugs flinched and looked upwards, the usual response at nighttime in Gotham for those up to no good, and Robin thought that he was going to enjoy smacking the hell out of the pair. But, in what clearly should no longer be a surprising turn of events, Marinette leapt into action against them. The second their eyes weren’t on her, she picked up a length of wood that had been discarded at some earlier date and swung it into the closest man’s shins. He swore as he went down but she didn’t hesitate to continue her momentum so that the makeshift weapon arced into his face.
“You little-” the second thug snarled, but Robin didn’t wait to see what he was going to say - or what Marinette might do to this one. The last thing he wanted was for someone to find out that he had just watched events unfold rather than protecting the civilians. It was rather satisfying to feel his boot crunch through the man’s nose, and he landed gracefully in front of the Parisians.
Marinette succeeded in surprising Robin again. He had expected her to be frightened, or awed, by his presence, as most were when they met the legendary Robin in person. Instead, her eyes were calculating and wary, her grip on the wood tightening rather than dropping it. Stepping back, he reported to Oracle that the police were needed before turning back to the five French students. And he was surprised again, because Marinette had not turned away when he did, her eyes still following him cautiously.
“Oh my god, you’re Robin! This is so. Cool!” the girl with glasses said, her phone coming up to capture a picture of him as he stood over the thugs. She ignored his glare, questions he didn’t bother to listen to spilling out of her mouth as she pointed the camera at him. He wasn’t going to say what he was thinking, but he really wished she would shut-
“Alya, stop,” Marinette hissed, turning to frown at her friend. “He’s a person, not just a source for your blog. Apologies, Monsieur Robin, and thank you for stepping in before something terrible could happen. We really shouldn’t be out here right now,” she said, aiming the words at her companions. “Could you perhaps point us in the direction of the Wayne Hotel? I think we are lost because someone said we didn’t need a map.”
“Marinette, you know my tinnitus messes with my sense of direction,” the last girl in the group simpered, her hand shooting out and grabbing onto Agreste. The model boy grimaced as she did so but didn’t shake her off, which was his own idiocy. It was only common sense that if you wanted people to give you your required space, you needed to vocally - and maybe physically - make them.
“Tt, tinnitus does not affect your sense of direction,” Robin rumbled, preening slightly at the tired smile Marinette sent in his direction. “Regardless, you are clearly in the completely incorrect part of town, so I shall assist you to your destination. I believe a taxi might be your best opportunity to get there safely, O, if you would not mind-”
“The only available and reliable taxi has four seats, not five,” Oracle said into his ear immediately, and he scowled at the thought that they would have to wait twice as long, or risk walking through the streets as a group. “It’s on its way to you now, but they’ll need to decide who to leave behind for you to assist to the hotel.”
An incredibly brief discussion occurred, and Robin should not have been surprised when Marinette volunteered to be the one to stay behind with the vigilante, but he was. And the surprises continued when she turned back to him and told him that she didn’t need him to remain, just to point her in the correct direction.
“Tt, do not be absurd,” he retorted, securing his sword more fully before turning back to her and motioning for her to step closer. “Come, I shall return you to the hotel via the rooftops. I trust you are not afraid of heights?”
_ _ _
Damian was walking Titus on the Saturday after the Parisian students’ full week at Gotham Academy, finally free of the obligation to bother with them. They were still going to be in Gotham until the Monday afternoon but they were mostly sightseeing now, so the only way he would be forced to deal with them was if they somehow ran into him-
“Oh! I’m so sorry,” a female voice said after he felt someone bump his elbow. He turned to glare at whoever it was but was greeted by the sight of her crouching down towards his dog instead of him. “Bon chien, pardonnez-moi, s’il vous plait!”
Surprised into silence, he could only watch as his ordinarily loyal pet sat to attention for the young woman, lifting his paw when she requested it and tongue lolling out happily when she praised him. Then her head came up as she apparently remembered that the dog’s owner was very much attached to him via the leash and he had to work not to let his jaw drop open.
“Monsieur Wayne, um, I’m very sorry for knocking into you! And for speaking to your dog before asking your permission, it was incredibly rude of me-” she babbled, her accent more pronounced as she clearly got worked up. He refocused on what she was saying and flushed slightly as she said, “-for what I said on the first day of our acquaintance. Honestly, I would never have been so presumptuous normally, but my friend insisted I use that line - but I did use it, so obviously I am to blame for that-”
“Tt, you are rambling,” he cut in, channeling his haughtier side. Her mouth snapped shut instantly, cheeks blushing that delightful shade of red that made him wonder if she was normally so easily flustered - or if it was just because of him. “I accept your apologies. I am, however, currently attempting to walk Titus so if you will excuse me…”
Much to his chagrin, she did not react as he expected and accepted his request to excuse him instead of offering to go with him. He wasn’t sure why he was disappointed in the outcome when it was exactly what he preferred everyone to do usually, but he could feel a small drop in his stomach as she apologised a final time before stepping away to walk back through the park they were in.
Perhaps it was for the best, as Damian didn’t really have time to maintain a civilian friendship, particularly with someone who lived half the planet away.
_ _ _
On the final morning of the Parisian students’ visit, Gotham Academy met with the foreign class to view the most prominent museum as a final parting activity. Damian fully expected to be bored to tears of the event given he spent so much of his free time in the building anyway, usually for inspiration, or to paint.
Unfortunately, a boring final day was not on the cards, and the whole museum was set upon by Two Face and his thugs. The majority of the students dutifully ducked down and tried to appear small and nonthreatening to the madman but Damian was not so lucky. As a Wayne, he was recognisable to a great many people. Especially villains. So he was dragged forward to be a hostage along with one other student: Marinette.
She was quiet, but he didn’t get the sense that she was scared as she huddled close to him and he allowed her to slip her hand behind his back so that they were pressed together. It was not unpleasant, but it did restrict his movement enough that he wasn’t sure he would be able to protect her should Dent decide to take a shot at either of them.
As though his thoughts manifested the scenario, Two Face did decide to shoot them - or rather, his coin did. Damian hated that the man relied on something as unreliable as chance; he couldn’t exactly outsmart a coin. The one small mercy was that the shot went wide from where it was pointing at Damian’s chest and only nicked his arm as Marinette took a firm hold of his waist and dropped to the floor with him.
At the same time, several vigilantes dropped down from the ceiling, leaving Damian free to try and crawl with Marinette to safety. But she stopped him, her hands moving swiftly and deftly to the bullet graze on his arm. She assessed him with a cool demeanour, hands firm but gentle as she pulled a scrap of fabric from her bag and started to bind it. There was chaos all around them but nothing touched them as she finished her task before grabbing the hand on his uninjured side and pulled him after her and towards the door.
“Are you alright?” she asked once they were outside where several ambulances were rushing towards them. Her eyes were bright and calm, worry limning them but tempered by her surety that he was at least physically fine.
“I think that I was perhaps hasty in declining your contact details,” he said, the words leaving him before he had really thought about it. He couldn’t say he regretted it when she blinked before smiling up at him hopefully, her hands slipping her phone from her purse and unlocking it before handing it to him.
