Chapter Text
Damian grew up knowing that everyone had their weakness. A weakness that was ingrained in their soul that they would one day have to kill. Damian knew not to ask about the soulmate of others. His mother’s side was scarred over, showing that she had killed her soulmate. Some of the other members would ask what color something was or need aid when it came to some things. Some people’s weakness were hard to overcome. Damian’s own weakness was the sentences that would sometimes scribble themselves onto his skin. It was never anything big or grand. Always something about not wanting to fall or trip or worrying that someone will pull their hair. He knew each person’s weakness was different. His mother had whispered the story of her own soulmate. She used to have a giant bouquet of flowers that decorated her side until she met the woman the mark belonged to. His mother killed the woman then and there. Damian had stared at the scar for a while after that while his mother whispered, softer than she ever had before, that her weakness had seen color the first time she met his mother’s eyes. On those days that she would risk punishment to tell stories about soulmates, she would always inform him on how his father had many that decorated his whole body. Names in different colors. Only once did she ever tell Damian that his father did not see the weaknesses as such. Damian always wondered upon that one statement.
When Damian finally met his father, he understood what his mother had meant. Bruce Wayne hid his Names out of concern, not loyalty to the league. His father showed the Names when they were all at home, safe and sound. The others that his father had collected, his Names some traitorous part of Damian whispered, also were open about their weakness. No… their soulmates. Damian had ignored it for as long as he could. Every time Dick Grayson apologized for acting on an emotion that wasn’t his, Damian tried to ignore the familiar feeling of words being scrawled on his skin. Every time Jason Todd ran his hand along the brilliant and bright swirl of colors that resided on his forearm, Damian tried not to think about the I hope I don’t poke myself that resided on and off on his inner left elbow. Every person in the house, his family, was open about their marks and Damian tried his best not to think about it because he didn’t want to think about what he’d been told to do if he ever met the person he was tied to.
Damian finally cracked the day he realized his name resided on his father’s skin in the same silver as all the others, as all his siblings. After a year of living with his father, Damian finally started to research just what his soulbond was. It didn’t take long for him to realize that all his soulmate’s worries appeared on his skin, no matter how big or small. Damian started to notice the words more and more. He didn’t even try to hide them from the family anymore but his soulmate’s marks were never really in a visible location. He knew that there was a chance one of the worries would burn if his soulmate was launched into an anxiety attack by it. He was lucky enough to not have one burn till he turned 14. Sadly, it happened during a patrol. Stephanie had been the first one to notice and had jumped to his aid quickly. She had even brought him home and stole Bruce’s salve (his Name’s ached when his kids were in trouble) to put on the newly emblazon words on Damian’s shoulder blades. I will never be a good enough Ladybug.
Every once in a while those words burned. He tried to not think about how he had more worries scrawled across his skin than normal. He tried not to dwell on how I can’t do it drifted on and off on his cheek in neat French. A year later the words Lila won’t stop burns itself on his right hip.
When Damian was 16, the Justice League got a call from France requesting aid. No one in the League believed the young hero’s plight except Batman. The League refused aid, Batman did not. Batman knew he couldn’t go himself and explained the situation to his kids. Robin leapt at the chance. No one mentioned that the French hero’s name was Ladybug and that she had admitted it was a title given. No one mentioned that they all knew that those facts were the reason Robin was so willing to throw himself in a situation he was not best suited for. The family kept their mouths shut as they helped plan Robin’s arrival in Paris with Ladybug. Robin was made to complement her in every way. They would follow his direction on this matter. Little did they know, he planned to do nothing about the bond.
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Marinette has had scars for as long as she remembers. People would always say she was a crybaby when she was younger. She gave a forced laugh every time that happened. She knew how to hide the scars so well most of her class failed to even remember her soulbond. None of them remembered when she paused out in class in pain, a giant scar curling itself around her left arm before making its way to the small of her back. She still felt it throb occasionally, not that she ever let her classmates know. Because of all this, no one understood Marinette’s anger at Lila. Every lie that escaped Lila’s mouth made Marinette flinch. The bigger the lie, the more Marinette hoped Lila’s soulmate didn’t manifest the same type of bond as Marinette. Her soulmate needed her to see through all their lies and she was prepared to love them from the moment she began receiving the scars. Being Ladybug was the only thing that ever made her falter when it came to loving them. Tikki had told her that she would only become an even stronger Ladybug when she found her soulmate.
“All my bugs have had a type of lie identifying soulmate bonds,” Tikki had informed her one night. The kwami frowned as Marinette felt the familiar small prick of a little white lie. “Though you're the first Ladybug to ever have one that caused pain.” Marinette only hummed as she continued her homework.
“Is there a reason?” Marinette asked after a moment. She glanced at Tikki, who gave her a confused look. “That all holders of the Ladybug have a lie identifying soulbond manifestation.” Tikki nodded.
“Typically, because their soulmates are proper holders of the fox miraculous,” she informed the girl. Marinette froze.
“Does,” Marinette choked out. “Do the fox holders all have the same soulbond too?” Tikki seemed to think.
“Foxes are a little different in that aspect,” Tikki answered after a few moments. “Foxes for some reason tend to get whatever the Ladybug wants hidden from the rest of the world, not what they need like most soulbonds work.” Tikki laughed. “I had one holder who never wanted anyone to know when she was sad and her fox could always feel her sadness when it came and would trip over herself to go and comfort her.” Tikki smiled at Marinette in such a soft way that Marinette was waiting for it to disappear. “Foxes are the Ladybug’s secret keeper.” Marinette looked away, trying to not let her fear and anxieties take over. No one needed that. Ladybug couldn’t be allowed to show any of that. Marinette couldn’t either. Both lives were a battlefield where life would be so much better if she no longer felt it. She didn’t even remember when she decided to lock that part of her away. No one would know any of that she had decided long ago. Marinette felt tears threaten to appear. Tikki had practically told her someone out there knew every aspect of the very thing she tried to rid herself of. On top of that, she now knew that Chat was definitely not her soulmate, much to her relief. She loved him as a brother and nothing more. He was a cat, a true cat at that. She was a true ladybug. They were each other's opposite, the other half of each other's existence, not the supplement.
“Why was I allowed to give it to someone else then?” Marinette replied.
“Because it was temporary and you hadn’t found your soulmate yet,” Tikki shrugged. “That is fine. You can’t do it once you find your soulmate though.”
By the time she had called the Justice League for help, she hadn’t stopped to think about the repercussions of herself being the Guardian and agreeing to hand a miraculous to one of the heroes of Gotham. She hadn’t stopped to think about what that would mean to Chat, who had been against the idea of her even asking for help, much less giving a stranger a miraculous. She thought nothing as she waited in Paris for the day Robin came.