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I should’ve known
I’d leave alone
Just goes to show
That the blood you bleed
Is just the blood you owe
Marinette hadn’t meant to become a villain. Some might consider her an antihero, but her methods were much too ruthless for that. She wasn’t always like this—wasn’t always vicious and cruel. But her life was a tragedy, and there was no hope of ever making it out unsullied. She had seen too much, gone through too much for someone her age. All life ever did was take, take, take, and screw her over time and time again.
There was once a time where things were simpler, when she would have preached justice and righteousness above all. Those times were long gone.
It was her own sense of selflessness that led to her downfall. Marinette was once thought too pure to be corrupted, but power could corrupt anyone. Not even she could contest against the forces of the universe.
Perhaps what transpired had only unleashed something that was in her all along—a dark side she could no longer control. A thirst for justice, more merciless and ruthless than anything she had felt before. But it was the price she had to pay in order to keep balance within the world. When it was time to do what had to be done, the darkness inside her took over. It made her a villain.
Maybe what she just found out was inevitable, then. Marinette knew she shouldn’t have let her guard down, but a naïve part told her maybe things would be different. Maybe he would be different. She guessed she was wrong about that.
She wanted to feel anger at the injustice, at the fact that someone she once trusted had deceived her yet again—and she did. But it was overshadowed by agony, because maybe she deserved it. Maybe this was karma for all the blood she had spilled. The universe must maintain balance, after all.
Marinette gave one last lingering glance at the picture in her hands before placing it in her purse.
She left the apartment alone.
We were a pair
But I saw you there
Too much to bear
You were my life
But life is far away from fair
“Tim!”
Marinette shrieked as the black-haired boy chased her around her apartment, weaving around the moving boxes she had never bothered to throw out. Her eyes flitted around, trying to decide the best course of action. There! She swerved right, hoping to throw him off, but she had taken too long to decide.
The air left her lungs as a body tackled her. “Oof!” she exclaimed, unprepared for the force. Gravity took over and her body fell forward, but a pair of arms caught her from behind. Tim set her upright before wrapping his arms around her waist like a hug, trapping her body against his.
“Give me the phone.”
She panted, trying to catch her breath before responding. Her chest heaved from running for so long. Normally she would have been able to hold out for longer, but the business she attended to the day before was especially taxing.
“No,” Marinette said, laughing breathlessly.
She resisted the urge to turn around and look at him, which would have been difficult anyways considering their height difference.
“I guess I’ll just have to take it from you then.”
She had a grand total of one second to register his words before he attacked. His fingers jabbed at her sides, prompting shrieks and laughter.
“St-stop it,” she gasped.
Tim smirked, an expression that wasn’t common on his face but beautiful nonetheless.
“Not until you surrender.”
His tickle assault continued for as long as Marinette could hold out (which wasn’t long).
“I yield!” she squawked, wanting the sensation to end as soon as possible.
“Do you?” he asked.
Marinette’s breath hitched as she suddenly realized how close he was.
His dark hair brushed her forehead, and she could count every lash framing his steel blue eyes. His normally porcelain skin was tinted a rosy hue, cheeks flushed from exhaustion. Or maybe from their proximity.
She knew they weren’t just friends—she wasn’t stupid, and neither was he. But they were both content with their relationship, and neither bothered to do anything about it.
Except that now, in the moment, Marinette wanted more. Apparently Tim agreed, with the way he was looking at her. There was a hungry glint in his eyes, which flickered down to her lips before gazing at her once more. A beat was all they needed to come to a silent agreement.
Marinette closed her eyes, tilting her head upwards from her position on the floor. Warm breath fanned across her face moments before soft lips brushed against hers. She melted into the kiss, feeling his heartbeat thud against her chest, smelling his cologne mixed with sweat. It was languid and sweet, and Marinette smiled against his lips. It just felt right.
The kiss ended abruptly, however, as Tim pulled away. She frowned in confusion and sat up, ready to ask what was wrong before catching sight of the phone in his hand.
“You cheater!” Marinette gasped. She straightened and lunged for her phone, but he simply held it out of reach before clicking the “delete” button.
“Gotcha,” he replied smugly.
“Hey,” Marinette pouted. “I liked that picture.”
The photo was one she had taken of Tim while he was unaware, which led to him chasing her around in an effort to get her to delete it.
“You owe me another one.”
He simply sighed and motioned her to come closer, taking his phone out at the same time. Marinette smoothed her hair out as he wrapped an arm around the back of her neck. She smiled at the camera before noticing Tim’s neutral expression.
“Hey.”
“What?”
“Smile!”
He gave an awkward grimace, and Marinette poked him in the side until he rolled his eyes and gave a real smile to the camera.
After the selfie was snapped, they both looked at the results. Tim seemed surprised at the outcome, and Marinette had to admit they looked good together. Their previous tussle was obvious from their flushed faces, but it made the picture all the more charming. For a stressed young CEO and a secret villain, they looked happy.
She felt a gaze burning into her and turned to see Tim looking at her with an uncharacteristically soft expression on his face.
“What?” she asked, confused.
His face morphed as a devious glint appeared in his eyes. Faster than a snake, he darted forward and placed a kiss onto the tip of her nose.
Marinette gaped like a fish, caught off-guard. She barely registered the flash of a camera; when she did, however, she snapped to attention.
“Hey! Gimme that!” she said indignantly.
Tim started to run, phone in hand, and Marinette followed, giggling at the boy’s antics all the way.
Giggled. It wasn’t something she thought she’d ever do again, but things changed after she met Tim Drake. She changed. After she met him, it was easier to control the darkness that took over her soul. It made her a little more human.
Moments of safety and happiness were always fleeting for her—even more so after the incident. But with Tim, things were different. Marinette felt normal around him. She felt loved. But little did she know those moments would soon come to an end.
Was I stupid to love you?
Was I reckless to help?
Was it obvious to everybody else
Love hurts. That was something Marinette knew better than anything, because she had always been the type to give her love away without receiving any in return—but that didn’t stop her from continuing to do it.
She was the problem. That’s what she’d been told all her life. Even when she was right, she was wrong. Especially when she was right. Anything that went south was her fault, because Marinette had to be perfect even though all she did was mess up.
Maybe the fact that everything in her life went wrong was a sign that she just wasn’t meant to be happy. She would never be good enough.
That was always obvious to everyone else.
That I’d fallen for a lie?
You were never on my side
Fool me once, fool me twice
Are you death or paradise?
Now you’ll never see me cry
There’s just no time to die
It was an accident.
Marinette had been scoping out her next target when she realized she had left something important behind at her apartment. She cursed her forgetfulness, which cropped up at the worst of times. Missions seemed to be the only thing she could succeed at nowadays, and there was no room for error. Checking her watch, she saw that there was still enough time to rush to her apartment and back.
She got there in record time, moving silently and swiftly, about to go through the window when a small detail caught her eye. Her front door was slightly ajar. When she had first moved in, she had to figure out a way to finesse the faulty door and get it to close correctly. Warning bells sounded in her head—someone had broken in. Or maybe she had forgotten to close the door correctly in a simple slip of the mind, but that was unlikely. No matter how off her game, Marinette wouldn’t have made this mistake. It was a reflex that couldn’t be broken.
She proceeded with caution, eyes narrowed. However tragic, the incident did provide her with the benefit of enhanced powers. Whoever was in there didn’t stand a chance. She could feel the darkness start to creep in, taking control.
The bluish glow of a light illuminated the inside of her apartment, and her limbs tensed in preparation. Movement in the corner of her vision made her snap her head to attention. There was a figure leaving her room, and the person was toying with something in their hands.
It was nearly pitch-black, but her enhanced senses bypassed any inhibitors. The culprit was wearing a black and red costume with strange chest straps and an emblem—one of Gotham’s vigilantes, then.
That meant they were onto her. She knew it would happen eventually; she was good, but Batman was better. Perhaps if she attempted to prove her innocence she could at least delay her inevitable capture. She dealt with magic, anyways—one more ancient than any other form. The traces left were hard to find by an experienced magic user and impossible to find by a non-user.
She was turned away from the window, about to return to her previous location as proof of her innocence and spin an alibi. But as she did so, the vigilante’s voice stopped her in her tracks. He was speaking quietly into his comm, but she could hear it. She could recognize it too. It sounded almost like—
“Tim,” the voice on the other end of the system said. “Are you almost done?”
It clicked, and horror flooded her Marinette’s body. It snuffed out the darkness, pushing the rage to the corners of her mind. It can’t be him, she thought. Because if it was him, it meant that she was wrong. She trusted him, and she was wrong.
“No names on comms, Dick,” the hero responded.
Any doubt Marinette had that it wasn’t Tim disappeared. A pit opened in her stomach, and the feeling of white-hot rage and betrayal blazed in her mind. Every inch in her body was screaming at her to get out, but she stayed. She needed to know.
“I checked her room, but I couldn’t find anything incriminating yet.”
“What about the bug?”
“Nothing. It didn’t pick anything up.”
A pause.
“That’s weird. Do you think she knows?”
“That I’m Red Robin? No. She wouldn’t have let me get this close if she did.”
Static sounded on the other side of the line before Dick responded one last time.
“Keep searching. If you can’t find anything else on her, we’ll have to take a more… direct approach.”
“Roger that.”
Tim pressed a button on his comms and resumed whatever he was doing, but Marinette had heard enough. She wanted to scream. Wanted to cry. She wanted to jump into the room and ask him if it was all a lie. Voices screamed at each other in her head, trying to get her to do something. Marinette drowned them all out. She steeled herself, turning her back to the window. Taking in a deep breath, she opened her eyes and fell into the emptiness.
I let it burn
You’re no longer my concern
Faces from my past return
Another lesson yet to learn
Marinette unpacked the boxes she had teleported from her apartment, face carefully blank. The day after she had found out Tim was Red Robin was spent packing her things. Normally they would have already been ready to go; all she would have to do was enact one of her contingency plans. After all, Marinette was prepared for everything. But she wasn’t prepared for this.
The warehouse was one of her most secure, but it was cold and empty, the only warmth emanating from the gas fireplace. The fire flickered, and she could feel her resolve flicker with it. After a few moments, she placed her purse on her lap and gently pulled out the picture of her and Tim.
It was only taken a few weeks ago, but a lot of things could change in a few weeks. Her happy expression was foreign now, and Marinette closed her eyes as she gripped the picture tighter.
After a few moments of hearing the crackling fire, she opened her eyes and studied Tim’s face, carving it into memory.
Then she let it go and let it burn.
That I’d fallen for a lie
You were never on my side
Fool me once, fool me twice
Are you death or paradise?
Now you’ll never see me cry
There’s just no time to die
Marinette had dreams of him often. She hated them, because they gave her hope when hope was what hurt her in the first place.
In those dreams, he told her that he had always loved her. That he had made a mistake in deceiving her, and he wanted her back. Needed her back. He entertained her delusions, and she believed him. At least, until she woke up and cold reality struck.
She really was a fool.
No time to die
No time to die
She didn’t think she’d ever see him again.
She didn’t know if she wanted to see him again.
But here they were, facing off. Hero versus villain.
Tim had shown up on one of her missions, somewhere off the coast of a random country. She couldn’t remember at this point. The darkness had consumed her completely, wrath twisting her face into one that was unrecognizable.
“You don’t have to do this.” The placating words sparked her temper.
“Neither did you,” she replied bitterly. They both knew what she really meant.
She charged forward, and Tim parried with his bo-staff, gritting his teeth at the force only to stumble backward when she ducked around and behind him. She sent a kick to the back of his knees—a dirty move, but she never played fair anyways.
Bracing his staff on the ground before him, he used the momentum just in time to flip himself over and avoid falling on his face.
Marinette surveyed emotionlessly as he panted from exhaustion. She could easily take him out right then, but she didn’t want to waste her energy. She had already done what was needed, and her target’s blood would take absolutely forever to get out of her suit.
It seemed as if Tim noticed, and his disbelief at her cruelty seeped through when he asked “How could you?”
She laughed derisively. “How could I?”
The vigilante at least felt some remorse from the way his eyes flashed. Up until this point she had been cold and detached, but he could hear a hint of desperation seep into her words. He knew what she was really asking: if what they had was real. If he had ever loved her, or if it was all a lie. He hesitated before opening his mouth.
“A mission is a mission.”
If he blinked he might have missed it. For a brief second she recoiled, visibly struck before schooling her expression into one of neutrality. Her back straightened, and she fell back into the person he couldn’t recognize. The darkness around her pulsed, and he shifted his weight into a defensive stance, preparing for another attack. But he wasn’t ready for what she had in store.
The darkness expanded, and Tim’s vision grew hazy. He could dimly register his body swaying before it hit the ground. As he faded in and out of consciousness, Marinette stepped into his field of vision. She looked the same since he had last seen her, but her eyes were shadowed and unforgiving. The same lips he used to kiss mouthed the words “a mission is a mission” before everything faded into black.
Fool me once, fool me twice
Are you death or paradise?
Now you’ll never see me cry
There’s just no time to die
She didn’t think it would end like this.
It wasn’t supposed to end like this.
It was just another normal mission; nothing dangerous—or at least, more dangerous than usual. Hunt down her target, extract information, do away with them as painfully as possibly, and leave.
But after her interaction with Tim, her work had gotten more sloppy. Rather than the icy rage that had become her new normal, her movements were fueled by anguish. Recklessness trumped logic, like she had lost control. And although she was off her game, she wouldn’t let something so trivial become a hindrance.
Until it did.
Marinette was ambushed. She leapt into action as quickly as her reflexes allowed; her movements were slightly delayed, but it was so imperceptible it shouldn’t have made a difference.
Except for the fact that her attackers somehow knew her. Knew how she moved, knew exactly what her weaknesses were.
She took down two of the three opponents, leaving the best for last. But with every punch she threw they knew exactly where to block. Her adversary seemed to sense her frustration and laughed behind their infuriating black mask. Marinette snarled, lunging for the figure only to stumble over thin air.
“I thought you were supposed to be better than this.”
She got up and drew in deep breaths, sweat coating her forehead and exhaustion making her weary. She slowly walked in a circle, eyes darting around the shadows in the room.
“You beat one of the Bats, did you not?”
The darkness around her flickered, and that’s when the opponent struck.
Marinette felt the impact, but didn’t realize anything had happened until she moved her hand to see it covered in red. The liquid was warm and sticky, and the puddle beneath her was growing bigger by the second. Blood? She moved her hand closer to her face in an attempt to see it more clearly, but her vision blurred. The room swayed, and she heard an oof as her body hit the floor. It had come from herself.
She knew she had to do something, but she couldn’t move. It was like she was paralyzed. Marinette reached out only to have her arm fall lazily into the pool of red, limbs weak and movements sluggish.
Scarlet seeped into her gloves, and her body burned but was so numb at the same time. She felt so sleepy. Sleep, she thought, the word repeating in her mind like a mantra. A nap sounds good. Right before her eyes closed, pain erupted in her side. Her body jolted, and a cross between a gurgle and cough left her mouth. She tilted her head up to frown at whoever had kicked her only to see the black-hooded figure.
She couldn’t tell from the mask obscuring their face but was sure they had just given her a wicked smile. The person tutted. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”
Marinette let out a soft noise of defiance. Her protest only seemed to amuse them—them? she was pretty sure it was a woman—judging by the small chuckle they let out. They leaned down, and she felt cold hands caress her face, sending shivers down her spine.
The masked face lowered to her level, and a final message left their lips.
“You can thank Red Robin for his assistance.”
There was a yank, and a strange burning sensation coursed through Marinette’s body. She heard the clatter of an object and spotted a metallic glint before the figure stood up. Panic bloomed in her stomach as they walked away, her breathing getting more shallow by the moment.
She pushed aside the pain, choosing to ignore it in favor of turning over those parting words.
You can thank Red Robin for his assistance.
Red Robin. Marinette wanted to laugh at the irony. Stabbed in the back indeed.
Moments before Tim ran into the room, she took her last breath.