Chapter Text
Once upon a time Marinette would have bent over backwards, dropped everything, and would never have questioned her friends. But now she was turning fourteen. She has been fighting Hawkmoth for three years, with no end in sight. Her friends, if she could still call them that, behind Lila's lies and followed her like sheep. You can only push a person so far until they break.
That was what happened to Mari.
She was pushed to do dresses, suits, casual wear, and banners with little to no notice for free, without even a thank you. She was made to plan and make baked goods and food for bake sales and fun raisers for class trips, picnics, and parties that she could not attend. They spoke to her condescendingly as if she was stupid, honeyed words to guilt her to do everything while they did nothing and reaped rewards.
At the end of her 7th year, she put in a signed request (by herself and Mendeleiev) to transfer into Mendeleiev's class. But surprise surprise it was denied. Bustier, her homeroom teacher last year denied her transfer, because she wanted to keep all her students the same.
Fine if this was how she wanted to be, well she had nothing left to give.
You can only give so much before becoming empty when you never receive anything.
The first thing she did was step down from class representative. "Miss Bustier?" she stood up from her seat in the back.
"Yes." said teacher smiled at her.
"I am renouncing my title of class representative, effective immediately." she announced shocking the teacher.
Her ever present smile faltered. "Alright, would the vice representative like to take the position?" She scanned each face, but no one stood up or spoke.
"There has not been a vice since my first month three years ago, Miss." The color drained from the teacher's face.
"Oh well, you will need to continue until we have an election next week." she smiled again.
"No." Her voice turned steely. She picked up three bursting folders and dropped them on the desk. "The white folder is student medical records, allergies, cumulative extracurriculars and birthdays. The orange folder holds field trip and fundraiser applications, guidelines for applications as well as locations each student is banned from listed under the student and the location's reason. The black folder has graded homework, tests, quizzes, papers, and projects you gave me to grade. As well as lesson plans and homework you had me assemble for you."
"But... but..." Miss Bustier stood shocked, gaping between Mari, to the folders, then the rest of the class.
"Like I said effective immediately." Marinette turned and was immediately stopped by a blonde.
"Mari, please reconsider." Adrien plodded blocking her from ascending.
"Pfft. And why should I fucking do that Agreste." she side stepped him and climbed the stairs.
Eyes stared at her, as if it was the first time seeing her. In a way it was, since she had no fucks left to give to those who would step all over her.
The girls wanted dresses. She gave fee rates, appointment times and estimated finishing date. Some took her up on her like Rose, Juleka, and Alix. Kagami and even Chloe started requesting commissions.
The same with banners and suits for the boys.
Sweets from the bakery, they placed their orders and paid like everyone else.
This helped her more than most would think. Her grades and attendance improved because she no longer dropped things at the drop of a hat.
Two weeks prior, Hawkmoth went silent, now almost a year later, Paris went back to normal. But she didn't. She became Paris' Ice Princess. She kept everyone at an arms length, her trust was hard to earn, her words cut like a knife and her eyes bore daggers. Yet as both Marinette and Ladybug she is the definition of calm, collected, and serenity. Something snapped a long time ago and no one knows how or what to fix.
"We are done." Sabine was exasperated again. "We got in contact with your biological father, and he is taking you in."
"Alright." She answered, knowing best to respond than to stay quiet.
Sabine began talking again but she only half listened, it was the same as every other night after all.
———
Bruce was done just done.
Apparently his very own system, which is in theory completely perfect, is anything but, because he just figured out, he has a daughter. An adoption agency apparently had him listed as the father of a child roughly 16 years ago, that he had completely no idea of. The mother apparently wanted to keep it secret and gave up the child not even listing herself which was odd. So, the adoption agency never made that information public. However, now he’s being called by said adoption agency and the parents of the girl who is apparently his daughter.
He thought Damian was the only one apparently not.
He is currently sitting in front of the Bat-Computer nursing one hell of an incoming headache, praying that none of his boys come down and see this.
He has a daughter that is older than Damian and knowing his son he will throw a fit over this. That his claim is the only blood child is literally going down the drain.
On top of that Bruce knows almost nothing about his daughter. Sure, he looked up her and her parents other than a few contests and school there was nothing on her. No social media, it was as if it was erased from the system. Her contacts seemed almost sparse for a girl her age, that being said he does not have a good reference for that.
The fact that not even his system was able to pick up on her says a lot more than you might think. When her parents came into contact with him, he thought it was a joke, but they held firm and even sent a DNA sample of their own daughter. He almost didn’t even cross test with his own, he was disgusted with how these people treated their child this way.
Yet here he is, he tested it and he was a biological match.
The parents are transferring her custody over to him, but he doesn’t even know this girl.
Life is never dull for the the greatest detective. Even when life seems to pull things out underneath him.
So, let’s just hope he can meet his daughter while ensuring that his sons not find out before he can get a grasp on the situation.
He continued to rub at his temples and the bridge of his nose trying to lessen the pain of this migraine which was sure enough going to set in. The only reason he’s getting gray hairs is because of his children.
Now to find out what the next one is like.