Remember On Drake&josh When Drake Got Married To That Foriegn Girl

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Behind the Mask: Gotham Ed, Gotham Fashion: Disaster

Inspired by one of the channels on the maribat discord, @stories-by-kat @maribat-archive

(Also, many apologies for not placing this under the ‘See More’ tag-thing, if anyone knows how to do it on mobile please inform me and I’ll do it, you can also find this on ao3 by ‘imshookandbi’)

Everyone in Gotham held their breath expectantly as the newest episode of ‘Behind the Mask: Gotham Ed’ began playing on their tv screens. Tonight was another Wayne Special, and nobody wanted to miss it.

When the first Wayne Special aired it was met with surprise from every busybody in Gotham, they didn’t think Bruce Wayne would ever agree to such a thing, considering he was big on his privacy, and they were expecting something boring.

How they were wrong.

The episode started like any other, the camera crew standing outside of the house of the chosen celebrity, getting a clear shot of the large estate, before moving to the door and knocking.

A few seconds later it was opened by Alfred Pennyworth, the Wayne butler, and the camera crew was invited inside. Bruce Wayne stood nearby with a blank expression, before motioning to the foyer and beginning the tour.

His voice, while pleasant and charming, droned on as he explained the history of the house. People were just about to click off it with a quiet sigh of expected disappointment, when there was a loud crashing sound and Jason Todd, Bruce’s second oldest, came sliding down the foyer stair banister and almost straight into Alfred, who merely stepped out of the way at the last second.

The camera jerked towards the dark haired boy in surprise, who was face planted into the floor and groaning painfully. The camera turned back to Bruce, as if asking a silent question, when the man in question adopted a pained expression and pinched the bridge of his nose, before sighing.

It was silent as the Patriarch of the house muttered quietly, in a long-suffering tone, “We were supposed to act normal.”

After that it was all chaos, and Gotham saw first hand how crazy it truly was in the Wayne Family.

The people of Gotham demanded for a second episode.

The people of Gotham got a second episode.

The people of Gotham got many more episodes even after, much to their unrestricted glee.

The people of Gotham thought it couldn’t get any better, then enter stage left; Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Damian ‘I am a glacier personified’ Wayne’s sweetheart.

She wasn’t showcased until four Wayne Specials later, but even before then she was heavily mentioned. However, it was under the pseudonym (that wasn’t really much of a pseudonym, more so a loving nickname the youngest Wayne gave her) ‘angel’.

And an angel she was, nobody expected her to be French, nor so small. She first appeared when the camera crew was in the middle of filming, a tray of macarons in hand and an easy-going smile on her freckled face. She didn’t even notice the camera yet, instead she walked over to Damian, pecked his cheek, before swinging the tray over to him and saying with a heavy French accent; “Macaron, Dames?”

Damian looked positively gleeful before nodding and taking one. That was when Marinette noticed the camera crew, she looked surprised, but quickly recovered before walking over and, while looking straight into the camera with glowing bluebell eyes, said; “Do you want one too, monsieurs?”

It startled all but Damian, who was still munching on the little treat.

Gotham adored her, and loved having her in episodes. She wasn’t in all of them, mind you, for she was still French and thus lived in France, but that just made her appearances extra special. Everyone did wonder though how she gets over so quickly, considering the far distance.

That isn’t the focus, though. As the newest episode faded in, the title did as well. Gotham Fashion: Disaster, a curious name, but promising for it held the chance of having Marinette in it.

And having Marinette in it, it did. The first thing that appeared after the title card was the small French-Asian girl, however, what was new was the fact that she wasn’t smiling. A concerning and uncommon thing with the young teen.

She was enraptured with something on her laptop, her face was stoic and deadpan, but while her expression was void her eyes were full of life. One could think her eyes were made of blue fire, full of disbelief and anger and thinly-veiled disgust. The corner of her eye twitched ever so slightly, so small a blink could miss it.

The camera crew got closer.

Marinette didn’t even seem to acknowledge their approach, and as they drew in the glare on her laptop died away to reveal a full body image of the Joker in all his crazed glory. There was destruction and carnage at his feet, rubble and destroyed street was strewn around him like an edgy teen’s family photo.

Marinette was glaring at the man, more specifically his outfit, which consisted of mainly green and white and purple.

The teen seemed to notice the camera at that moment, wordlessly she looked up from her laptop, ever so deadpan, and much like her first appearance, looked straight into the camera.

There was no smile though, no polite kindness, nor a tray of macarons in her hand. Tonelessly, yet still full of so much conviction, she stated; “The Joker is a punk bitch. If I ever so much as see him I’m going to slap him with a mallet for the sole reason of looking like an eggplant dipped in green paint and powdered sugar.”

Then, she added, “How dare he make me look at him dressed like that.”

Her incredibly offended voice would’ve been humorous, if it weren’t for the fact that she just swore for the first time on camera. The camera jerked in surprise, and the room was silent for all but three seconds, before one of the men behind the camera said, very quietly, “Pardon?”

That seemed to be the opening to a pair of floodgates that happened to be so full the dam wall was cracking. Marinette twitched, before blurting out; “His outfit! It’s an absolute disaster! An insult to fashion! He’s a walking bruise that someone attempted to cover using a concealer that wasn’t even their correct skin tone! He walks around like that and expects me to be scared of him?”

An inhale of breath could be heard offscreen, apparently from one of the crew about to speak, but the young French-Asian woman continued on.

“Don’t get me started on Puzzler and the Riddler, I know green is a lovely color, it really is, but if you’re gonna walk around like a neon traffic sign then I’m sorry but you’re gonna get slapped. By me. With a ruler.” She began, a scowl planted itself onto her face as she crossed her arms, an unusually out of place expression on her features. “If they want, I will personally make them a new suit, I can make it green if they so desire, but under no circumstances is it going to be that shade of green.”

An opportunity must’ve been smelt, for a second later one of the camera crew members piped up; “What about the rest of the villains? And what about the heroes?”

Marinette twitched again, before bursting out into a outfit-style rant that only an experienced designer could manage. For nearly two hours straight Marinette called out each and every single villain and hero who resided inside and out of Gotham for their poor fashion skills and terrible color coordination. If they had some involvement with Gotham, they were free game.

Two-Face, the Penguin, Scarecrow, Mr. Freeze, Red Hood, Superman, Nightwing, Red Robin, the Flash, Aquaman, Green Lantern, Robin, no one was safe from her ire. She ripped into each and every villain and hero she could think of, each outfit was torn to shreds and rebuilt into something new. It was the hottest verbal fire the people in Gotham have ever witnessed.

“Then there’s Batman,” Marinette hissed dangerously as she neared the end of her rampage, her eyes narrowed in both terrible judgement (for Batman) and self-righteous, fashion fueled anger. “I’m going to have a talk with him about the first Robin’s hero costume.”

“Bright yellow. Stop sign red. And clover green. The first Robin’s outfit consisted of those three colors, two primary and one secondary. Robin was a walking traffic light, he wore elf shoes and didn’t even wear pants. I’m—” She cut herself off, taking a deep breath to seemingly calm herself, before continuing.

“I get that Robin was a child at the time, and he probably needed some way to keep an eye on him, but there are different ways to track a child and being a glowstick is not one of them.” She said, “Apparently, black is the only color he seems to know that doesn’t end in neon. Apparently I will need to teach him on this thing called the color spectrum, and that he needs to use it.” Her voice was full of annoyance and disgusted designer judgement.

“And the cape.” She said slowly, enunciating each word perfectly and clearly, such a small sentence shouldn’t sound so much like a threat, but it did. “Oh, the cape. Let me tell you something—” Off she went again, the young noiret rattled on every single disadvantage a cape had.

By the end of her rant everyone in Gotham felt significantly burned, even if the focus of her ire wasn’t pointed at them. The civilians of Gotham felt both embarrassed of and for their heroes and villains— well, maybe not so for their villains too much, but still slightly. At the most they pitied them. (Except for the Joker.)

The day the episode, ‘Behind the Mask: Gotham Ed, Gotham Fashion: Disaster’ aired was the day that one Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s inbox was flooded with commissions from heroes and villains alike.

The day the episode, ‘Behind the Mask: Gotham Ed, Gotham Fashion: Disaster’ aired villain activity decreased exponentially for a month as villains of all kinds scrambled to fix their suits and outfits.

The day the episode, ‘Behind the Mask: Gotham Ed, Gotham Fashion: Disaster’ aired was the day the phrase, ‘dress to impress Mlle. Marinette Dupain-Cheng’ was coined.

The episode, ‘Behind the Mask: Gotham Ed, Gotham Fashion: Disaster’ became a new Gotham Favorite, and Marinette’s popularity inside the crime-ridden city boosted significantly.

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