Chapter Text
Soulmates. There are so many different types. Friends bond over similar marks. Names on the wrists, count down clocks, matching tattoos; even darker ones like shared injuries. The mental bonds were harder to bond over. Shared memories, split perspectives, dreamscapes; anyone can lie about those.
Some marks and bonds were genetic. Doctors can test the probability of a foetus having a certain mark by looking at familial history. If the parents have a tattoo mark then, chances are the child will have a tattoo mark also.
Due to this tentative genetic link to bond type, some have become endangered over the generations. Some of which being; death count downs and shared injuries.
One of the strangest went by the nickname ‘Dragon’s mark’. Sabine’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked at the computer screen. The white of the website shone on her face and the wall behind her. She had spent hours searching for an explanation for her daughter’s increasingly strange behaviour.
Shutting off the computer she climbed up the stair before reaching the ladder to Marinette’s room. Peeking through the crack of the trapdoor, she looked at the war zone that had become her daughter’s room.
The paediatrician the Dupain-Chengs had to help them manage Marinette’s ADHD said this behaviour could either be an obsession or be related to her soul bond. So it was now 2am, five hours later than her usual bedtime, search the internet for different bond types that could give her some sort of ease.
You’re probably wondering, ‘what’s so strange about a seven-year old having an obsession? That’s just childhood, right?’ The answer to that question would surprise you.
Little Marinette, a girl surrounded by every pink thing possible and barely comes up to her mother’s elbows, sweet as sugar. Who would’ve thought she’d like KNIVES. And not just ones used for cooking, big ones, sharp ones; any she could find. The most impressive of all was an ornate katana they had found at an estate sale. Marinette had begged her mother to get it, promising to be good “for the rest of existence.”
The small Asian woman crept into her daughter’s room, dodging the blades that scattered the floor. It was like a museum exhibit of potential injury. Climbing up another few steps she found her, wrapped in an obscene about of blankets, knives haphazardly left all over.
She gathered what she could, gently taking off some blankets, shaking them then placing them back over her sleeping child. ‘Maybe we should buy her a glass cabinet, that way she can have them without risk.’
Placing the last sword in the old lockbox she had given the girl she sighed. She wondered if it was just a childish phase or whether if it was that dragon’s mark bond. Sabine could only wonder what would a child, who seems to like nothing but blades and things that harm collect to represent her daughter. She chuckled, for now, she’ll just stick to wondering about what crosses people’s minds as they see her daughter. Running through the park in a poofy pink princess dress, with a sword tied to her waist.