Okay Something I Was Thinking About Yesterday Was How Tomoe Clearly Wants Kagami And Adrien To Be Together

I do not like having jingly keychains, but I like that my father does. His chain has the car keys, a Swiss army knife, a longer Swiss Army knife, a small metal Captain America shield, and a few other trinkets that he wears in his belt loop with one of those big clips (the metal ones for rock climbing- carabiners).

Anyway my dad has been wearing that specific set of trinkets for my entire life. It is not loud but because of the trinkets it makes a very specific jingle.

So when my brother and I got lost at a Disney park during one of your extended family vacations (25 people is a lot and very easy to be overlooked), we tracked down the rest of our family by walking around the general area in a circle to hear down the different streets until we heard it. All the way from the opposite end of the street and around a corner.

We got back to them fast enough that nobody knew of our little crisis and all because of my Dad’s obnoxious key chain.

having a little jingly keychain is all fun and games, until you’re walking around somewhere that’s dead quiet…..like oh i’m sorry i just my trinkets are jangling around……n suddenly your the court jester and everyone is pointing and laughing at you for your noisey fucking keychain…..bobo the clowncore

MARIBAT ARROW APRIL 2023

April is dedicated to the ARROWS. This can be any member of the Green Arrow/Arrowverse extended family.

Roynette Shippers This Is Your Month!

Got an even rarer pair? Those work too!

It can also be BioFam!

Do one prompt! Do them all! Any participation is great! They just serve as ways to encourage that creativity. No Pressure.

This year we are adding an extra prompt weeks for the most popular arrow ship: Roynette! Like with the calendar, only write those prompts which inspire you. You don't have to do them all, and you don't have to do both (though, extra kudos to anyone who tries).

AO3 COLLECTION:

This is the same collection from last year, with a new tag, so if you are looking for last year's this is it now.

TAGS FOR BOTH TUMBLR AND AO3: 

#Arrow April #Arrow April 2023

BE SURE TO TAG THIS BLOG @MARIBAT-CALENDAR-EVENTS AND REBLOG SO OTHERS GET A CHANCE TO SEE TOO!

Guidelines

Any orientation or relationship style is welcome and encouraged (familial, platonic, romantic, aged-up NSFW)!

Any creative works (writing, fics, drabbles, head-canons, art, poetry, incorrect quotes, etc.) are accepted

Tag @maribat-calendar-events in your works so we can share it

Use the hashtag so others can see your work

Keep NSFW works under the ‘Keep Reading’ line with an appropriate warning above

Questions? Send us a message/ask, or contact @izanae

Get creative and have fun! We all look forward to your participation and submissions!

Incorrect Daminette Quotes

Ladybug: (vaulting behind a crate while an explosion occurs) Okay time for plan G.

Red Hood: Don’t you mean plan B?

Ladybug: We are well past plan B, we skipped over plan C due to Nightwing getting knocked unconscious.

Red Robin: What about plan D?

Ladybug: Plan D was that desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago where Robin and I make out as a distraction.

Robin: (still sitting stunned in the corner muttering) She kissed me? She- she actually kissed…

Ladybug: And I’m not doing plan E, because that involves a level of property damage that I’m not okay with.

Red Hood: (readies an explosive) I’m prepared to make that sacrifice!

bc marinette should have a chinese name:

i was messing around with chinese names bc i figured marinette would 100% have one given that sabine is a first gen immigrant— so came up with this:

cheng meiyun!! (or 郑梅运）

because sabine is mandarin, “cheng” is probably “zheng”—郑. i toyed around with how it could also be “zhang” because “cheung” is zhang, but she’s not cantonese, so… 

“mei” (梅）— “梅花“ (mei hua) means plum blossom, but mei by itself could also be a substitute for that! n the flower designs on marinette’s undershirt could very well be plum blossoms… 👀

plum blossoms also symbolize perseverance and hope!! 

“yun” (运）— means luck! honestly this is self explanatory in marinette’s case shfljksdfkj 

also a play on words, but although the “mei” in marinette’s name means plum (blossom), another meaning for “mei” (with the character “没”) means none, so her name could also be read aloud as “no luck” bc as much as she’s supposed to be lucky as ladybug we’ve seen marinette horribly unlucky too :’)) i love double meanings and plays on words even though no sane parent would name their child no luck 

I know that its basically canon that Jason's not afraid of death and thus acts the most reckless possible because he's already been there done that, right? And its not like theres anything worse than death, so he might as well go all in at all times, but what if he was instead terribly afraid of dying? Not because of death itself but because there is something worse that death, and it's coming back from it.

Jason knows death is not that bad really, because at least the pain stops, then. But coming back? That's what truly terrifies him, and it's only possible if he dies.

He has a thousand contingencies in place to make sure that if he does die again (and theres a half thought there of going out to find a way to never die, because no matter what he suffers after, it's never going to be worse than coming back), nothing is able to bring him back.

One night, a freak explosion leaves him seriously injured, a stray metal shard digging itself deep in his stomach. As the bats rush him back to the cave, delirious from the pain and blood loss, Jason begs Bruce to please, please, get rid of my body, dad, I dont wanna come back again, please swear to me you won't bury me again.

And Bruce, poor Bruce, has to look his son in the eyes and tell him that yes, he'll make sure he doesn't come back again (and oh, how does it hurt, knowing that the best thing that happened to you is the worst pain you son will ever feel).

Jason steps into fights only when he knows every single detail of it, and it's what makes him ten times more efficient and just as much scarier to criminals. He is swift when dealing out justice, and as precise as a surgeon. No one really escapes him, be it petty criminals or mob bosses.

He still gets hurt a great deal, because his pain tolerance is definitely fucked up, and he knows his limits, so he can tell when a wound is nothing to get worried about.

damien doesn't even like caprisuns

Green Eyed

Damian glared watching some guy stand next to Marinette. He knew his girlfriend had become popular very quickly, after she had to moved from Paris to Gotham. She was known for her kindness and smiles. He knew she had a bit of trouble, at the start, but she seemed to be making friends. The moment the guy leaned in close to her; he saw red.

‘Who does he think he is?’

Damian quickly strode over and stood next to Marinette. She said nothing and waited for the guy, in front of her, to continue. The guy looked between them, confused.

“Did you need something, Wayne?” he questioned.

Before he could answer, Marinette spoke up, “Damian, this is Declan. He’s in my literature class. We have a project with partners about the red A.”

“The Scarlet Letter.” the guy corrected, “I was just asking Marinette to meet me, after school, at the café on 25th and Brighton.”

“You will come to the manor.” Damian declared.

“What?” Declan asked.

“You will come to Wayne Manor.” the Wayne heir restated, “I was unaware you had an issue with your hearing.”

Declan sneered with a glare, “Now why would we do that, Wayne?”

Damian wrapped his arm around Marinette’s waist and answered, “My girlfriend lives with me.”

Declan looked between the Ice Prince and the Foreign Beauty everyone raved about. He heard whispers in the halls about a foreign exchange student who looked like a doll. She had ebony hair and blue doll-like eyes with pink lips. You would have thought they were describing a Disney princess from how they talked. The moment she walked into his class, he couldn’t keep his off of her. He thought the project was his chance to ask her out, but he had been wrong. Declan just nodded his head as the truth sunk in.

“Sure.” he replied, “Whatever.” walking away.

Marinette smiled, as she switched to French, “Were you jealous, My Love?”

“No.” Damian quipped.

“Green is such a pretty color on you.” Mari replied.

Damian looked away, but she was quick to notice his red-tipped ears. She grabbed his arm and used it as leverage to kiss his cheek.

“So is red.” Marinette whispered, “I'l see you after math for lunch.”

Damian quickly pulled her close and kissed her pink lips, as the bell rang.

“I’ll see you at lunch, Angel.” he spoke.

“Demon.” she winked and walked off to her next class.

PERMANENT TAG LIST:  @animeweebgirl​ @animegirlweeb​ @abrx2002​ @blueblossombliss​ @thepaceperson​ @alysrose-starchild​ @marveldcedits20​ @09shell-sea09​ @nickristus-dreamer​ @saltymiraculer​ @icerosecrystal​ @vixen-uchiha​ @a-star-with-a-human-name​ @meme991001​ @fandom-trapped-03​ @dood-space​ @moonlightstar64​ @insane-fangirl-of-everything

Harmonies of the Multiverse

THEME

When Jupiter collides with autumn, a single moment is born between two entities. Equal harmonies with balance, dancing along a fine line of too far and too near, of brightest and dimmest, of perfect alignment. People say that on an equinox, the sky divides into two parts, golden light and silver darkness.

For Damian Wayne, it meant heading to the rooftop instead of sleeping peacefully in his bed, staring at the sky, but not seeing anything. His eyes would remain blank as they stared up at the twinkling stars almost covered by the rancid smog. He learned at too young of an age that life was not about myths and fairytales, but of monsters in the form of flesh and bone which held their smiles on their face and their daggers in your back.

The equinox meant facing the demons of his past.

He always knew he was never the best person. He wouldn't ever be as selfless as Dick, he wouldn't be as level-headed as Tim, or even as passionate as Jason. He wouldn't have his father's ingrained need to help the dying cesspool they lived in, and he would never have Alfred's heaven-bound level of patience. There would always be that selfish, rash, cold-hearted, narcissistic, impatient prince lying inside of him, waiting to rear its foul head. It surfaced every second he held a blade in his hand, at every mob member terrorizing innocents and criminals alike, every abuser, every villain. A voice inside him purred to rid the world of their filth, of their moral grime. And every single time, it grew louder and louder and louder and louder.

Each time a criminal escaped through his grasp was another chip in his fortitude.

Each time an innocent civilian broke a smile at him, only to die minutes later from an explosion was a stab in the wall between morally good and vengeance.

For every stabbing heart, for every gutless cry of a mother who lost their child.

Wouldn't it be so much easier to erase them before they could commit such barbarisms?

The cold kissed his cheeks, so much like a viper's poison, and he shook his head, banishing the thought from his mind. Ah, she's still inside my head.

Maybe symphonies are built on a beautiful melody. However, the melody would never work if they worked on different concepts. The one his father blasted into his mind was a righteous march, darker in tone than most melodies, but an overarching victory for Good reigned. It taught him patience, morals, ethics, light against darkness.

But, his mother taught him the cellist's devil nature. The darker tones, the echoing, vibrating puppet master giving the audience the illusion that the melody is in control, but in reality, all the melody can do is fall victim to the villainous, tragic whirlpool of misery, murder, and fascist brutality. She placed the blade in his hand, had him earn her love through feats of glorious atrocities, built him up from the ground up into the perfect weapon, too jagged and unpredictable to be used for Good, but whittled down, rusted and corrupted for far too long to be remolded into something useful.

Now, he didn't know where he belonged. Did his melody rise above the dark cello nurtured in him? Or will the melody drown under the alluring, tempest bass driven through his heart, buried deeper than the center of the Earth?

The wind, maybe sensing his demise, could do nothing but blow harder to calm his feverish head filled with questions he could not answer. The somber cold stung the sweet chapped lips all too used to the desert's ice and fire of his childhood, but it stung more bitterly as the North Atlantic ocean blew in the new change in season. Gotham was an outlier. A ghost town of improbabilities and plausibility all clashed together to create a cesspool of madness, hate, and impossibilities.

He wondered why his father, or his ancestors before him, would ever want to stay in a city like this for the rest of their rich, detached lives. Why they would ever choose to spend their lives in this miserable landfill, giving what they have to make the ever-draining city a better place. Why they gaze at the buildings and streets with fond gazes. Why they find it so easy to smile at a Gotham native without feeling like they will get a knife's edge poking their sternum the moment they show their backs.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he cursed God that he was not given this ingrained sense of belonging and mercy to Gotham like all of his family before him.

Pages rustled on in the breeze, and, by miraculous luck, the cover tipped open. Blue light shone through the darkness beyond his closed eyelids, but he did not notice beyond the salty river squeezing through the crevice.

"S'il te plaît, ne me dis pas que tu pleures." Please, don't tell me you're crying. Soft French carried over the quiet din. "I never know what to do when you are crying."

He pried his eyes open, and a vision filled his eyes. A girl, no older than he was, but with a more youthful smile cracked in sorrow, dressed in a midnight blue evening gown glowing in the darkness, blowing in the wind to its own rhythm as it reflected the stars ten times brighter than Gotham Fair's lights. She floated over the torn book of ancient Tibetan magic he brought with him that night, just like he did every solstice, her legs crossed underneath her in an informal squat. Cheeks blossomed like dusky luminescent wisteria, and constellations made of stars brighter than Rigel lost across the bridge of her nose. Her blue crown of hair burned a halo around her, framing bluebell eyes that looked older than a thousand of his lifetimes staring deep into his own green eyes.

The only word he could say was, "Marinette."

Her grin made his heart's symphony subito pianissimo. "Hi, Damian. Happy Autumn Solstice."

================

not me wanting to make this a full fic ;v; (hence the chapter title "theme")

for @jumpingjoy82 for the maribat gift exchange 2022 (i posted on time on archive, just not on tumblr ;v;)

Jason: Kid we need you to-

Jason:

Jason: Are you making Sims of the entire family?

Damian: Yes, I'm also going to recreate Wayne Manor to house them all. Do you want to join me?

Jason: Scooch over I have an idea for one of Dick's outfits

Our Saviour Red Hood, Patron Saint of the Poor and Downtrodden, Protector of Gotham

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now.”

(art by the wonderful @gotham-gargoyle​ )

Some ranting, theory-crafting and inspiration behind this commission under the cut :)

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