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batsandbugs · 2 years

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Bruce Wayne’s Headache Classification System Chapter 3

IKEA Verse

A/N: The author shows up a month and a half late, with Starbucks: S'up, here's 7500 words of pure chaos. Feast! Y'all are the best, thank you for the amazing comments in the last chapter. I love seeing your excitement for this crazy little world I've created. I have a new fic that I'll be adding eventually, called: "The Stalking of Daminette: A Treatise by Steph and Cass" it's still in its baby stage, so we'll see how long that grows before I post. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it because I have not started on the next part and I'm moving in less than a month, so maybe the next chapter will be out sometime in October, but I'm not making any promises. Enjoy!

Chapter 3

Bruce narrows his eyes and pins his children with an unimpressed stare. “What did you do?

“He was totally willing!” Dick insists with an innocent grin.

“Coercion.”

“Manhandling.”

Dick’s grin disappears evilly side-eyeing his brothers. “Both of you suck at being back up.”

“He didn’t want to at first,” confesses Tim. “But they held my computer hostage to convince me to agree.” Tim rubs a hand over the top of his laptop in a soothing manner. “So, I stole all his knives so he couldn’t stab us, while Jason and Dick wrangled him into the car.”

“Little demon was spittin’ nails, but we persuaded him not to throw himself out the car, so he was trapped.”

“By the time we arrived, I convinced them how a game of hide-and-seek would be a fun, non-disastrous way to spend time together,” says Dick, his face one of ruined hopes and dreams.

“Mostly through bribes, blackmail, and calls to our innate competitiveness,” says Tim.

“Dickie kept the keys so none of us could leave, and declared himself seeker first,” Jason continues. “He found me-"

"In the food court," says Dick.

"Then Replacement-"

"At the Starbucks."

"Didn't even get to have that coffee," grumbles Tim.

"So we joined forces and decided to search for Damian together. We spent an hour chasing him in circles. Swear I almost caught him too.”

Tim scoffs, “Yeah no, he had us good. We had no clue where he was.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Oh, shut up Tim.”

“You shut up,” Tim shoots back.

“Boys…” warns Bruce, already regretting bringing all three of them into this sitrep.

“Okay, so he evades us long enough to team up with a girl named Marinette Dupain-Cheng-” starts Tim.

Jason growls a bit. “Lying bitch.”

“Jason…” Dick sighs but doesn’t refute the insult. This only serves to deepen Bruce’s headache which now strongly veers out of the I-am-not-mentally-or-emotionally-prepared-for-this category and straight into Ongoing-dumpster-fire territory.

This was fine.

Jason slams a fist on the table. “She lied to my face multiple times! She said she was hired to poison Tim and Damian in order to steal Tim’s phone and if I didn’t find them in time, they were gonna die from brain damage!”

Bruce blinks. Did he hear that right? “Sorry, what?”

Tim sighs. “Okay, rewind, so Damian evading us like the little assassin he trained to be, hooks up with Marinette, who, as far as my research shows, is a civilian-”

“Yeah right, girlie ain’t a civilian. No way, not in a million years.”

“Shut up Jason, let Tim talk,” snaps Dick.

“She lied to Jason about where Damian was, and between her initial meeting with Jason and the incident in the food court, about an hour passed. Then she appeared in the cafeteria with Damian’s card, how we tracked her there in the first place. She panicked when she saw us and used her magic on the shelves in the warehouse to cause a diversion-”

“She crushed a fucking forklift, and we got blamed and billed for it.”

‘How?’ Bruce thinks in despair. Not over the money, of course. They had more than enough to cover costs, just in the general sense of incredulity. One would think, after being Batman this long, it would inoculate Bruce from bewilderment at all types of situations.

It has not.

Tim shakes his head. “No, I proved we had nothing to do with that."

‘Oh well isn’t that grand?’

"Didn’t manage to pin anything on her either considering how much electrical interference occurred whenever she performed magic, but we don’t have to pay.”

“Magic doesn’t cause electrical interference,” Bruce reminds them. “Not unless it completely breaks the system in the process.” All three boys – men really, his kids all grown up now, even if they pulled stupid shit like this – turn to him. Identical expressions of contemplation played over their faces.

“Shit, you’re right,” mutters Dick.

“Well, her magic does,” counters Tim, his brow creasing heavily, grasping past the sleepy, foggy haze that comes with being awake for three days straight. Grabbing a notepad he jots down the observation. “Her magic doesn’t obey any rules we know to be true.”

“It’s magic, dumbass,” Jason sneers. “It doesn’t have to make sense. I’m still on the fence about whether she enchanted Damian though. On one hand, demon-spawn shouldn’t be capable of smiling that much, and he defended her, deferred to her, fucking used her first name without blinking an eye. That ain’t natural for him. On the other hand, she’s the same brand of demented as he is, and maybe they want to be horrible little demons together.”

“I…” starts Dick before trailing off, his face flickers through a series of emotions. Mostly fragile hope, pragmatic disbelief, and good heaping of uncertainty.

“See, Golden Boy, even you can’t say this is a good thing!”

“He made a friend?” Dick offers with a pained wince.

“She’s a psychopath!”

Bruce cuts off the argument. As much as he would love to hear more in-depth detail about Damian’s newest… acquaintance, he wants a clearer picture of what happened at the store before he judges the situation. “Boys, behave. Tim, please continue.”

Tim nods. “Okay, so Marinette escapes the warehouse, and we track her back to their entry point into the vent system. We split up to cover more ground, I take the warehouse and keep myself from the worker’s sight but close enough to the vent I could spot them exiting. About forty-five minutes later they set me on fire-”

“Wait,” interrupts Bruce. “Fire? FIRE?”

Tim looks at him like he’s being particularly slow. “Uh, yeah, I said that a time or two now, keep up. To be fair, the fire was more around me. But I did end up singed.” He shows his arm sleeve again, and the singeing on the sleeve takes on a whole new meaning.

“I wasn’t sure what happened at the time, I expected to catch the little twerps, not engage in guerilla warfare. So, understandably, I’m off my game. The security guard dragged me into the office, and I’m ready to call for backup, only to find my phone missing. I talk down the manager in the warehouse, but then he yells at these poor workers. And Bruce, they were kids, couldn’t be more than fifteen, working in this busy warehouse with no clue about any rights they had, and then after the manager became… distracted I conversed with the other workers, and-”

Tim’s one-breath ramble was swiftly cut off by Jason. “Yeah, yeah you caused a worker’s strike through the power of charisma and rhetoric. So original. No one else in the world’s history has ever done that. Can we get back to the French bitch tricking me?”

Tim huffs, crossing his arms. “You can continue then because I wasn’t part of that.”

“Cool, I will. So, there I wait at my post, and it’s been like an hour and a half at this point. Timmy finally calls, but it’s not actually him it’s the French girl. She’s actin’ like a paid assassin slash company spy, and says she poisoned Tim and Damian through tricking them into eatin’ poisoned coffee and shit.”

“And you believed that?” Bruce asks. Jason glares at him with piercing green-blue eyes, and although his second son puts off an air of anger and annoyance, it’s a mask for a deep-seated fear that his brothers were genuinely in danger. That he would be too slow, too late to save them, like what happened to-

Jason flippantly shrugs his shoulders, years of practiced reticence covering his care. “With our craptastic luck, I sure as hell wasn’t going to take any chances. So, I go chasin’ and-”

“~It’s a trap~,” Tim gloats in a sing-songy voice, his grin wide and eyes unfocused. He’s going to crash soon, it’s just a matter of time.

“Shut up, you ended up set on fire and pickpocketed. You have no leg to stand on.” Tim rolls his eyes but slouches back in his chair. “So, it’s a trap, and demon-spawn is waitin’ there with one of those tricked-out trip wires Timmy made. He and Frenchie wrapped me up good, taunted me, and stripped me taking my wallet and phone. Bitch also took my knife. I insult the brat, and he fires back, but before he does anything else Marinette pulls him back and tells him to simmer down and he does.” Jason’s wide eyes drip with incredulity and, quite frankly, a little awe.

“I see,” Bruce says, a fake calm surrounding his words. He really didn’t. They were talking about Damian. Bruce loves his only biological son, he truly does. He loves Damian’s sketches, and care for animals, he loves his dedication to sword mastery and sly humor. The way his son has the same wrinkle crease between his eyes Bruce gets, and that Thomas did before them. The similarity soothes a small part of Bruce’s aching soul. He’s ridiculously proud of all the work and effort Damian went through, put himself through, to become a better person. To overcome the trauma his upbringing caused and come out stronger.

That being said, Damian was still arrogant, stubborn, and quick-tempered. He considered his opinions and plans more highly than others, and unless one could give a quick and compelling explanation as to an alternative option, he would be proceeding with his plan with efficiency; damn anything else standing in his way. Damian spared no sympathy to the average person and even less for fools.

This behavior was extremely out of character for him.

Which made the entire situation ring with alarm.

Jason shook his head. “I don’t think you do,” he says, calling Bruce’s lie out. “You’re gonna need to see it to really understand. Anyway, they leave me there for the police to find me, and the wire’s wound on tight, so I’m still struggling to get them off when security finds me ten minutes later.” Jason smirks. “Now those idiots had no clue who they were dealing with, and they loosened the wire round my legs, cause they sure as hell couldn’t carry me. By the time we reached the car I was out of the bonds and knocked one out and escaped from the other. Fat-ass bastard.”

“Language,” Bruce reminds him. Jason flips him off.

“Fine, the heavy-set bastard. Better?”

Bruce sighs. “Not really.”

“I scale the building, figuring the store entrances would be monitored. They had a nice handy dandy human-sized ventilation shaft up there - no wonder with the place’s fucking size - so, I shimmy down-”

“Like Santa,” Tim giggles, well past bordering on a manic state, and instead moved well into the capital of it.

The comment doesn’t appear to have fazed Jason though, who takes another long sip of his alcohol-soda mixture. “And like Santa, I have a knack for toys. I emerge out of a vent in the children’s toy area and snag myself a nerf gun.”

Sharp pain blooms on the side of Bruce’s neck. He doesn’t let it show on his face though. “Why?”

“Seemed like a good at the time, ya know?”

Bruce mentally counts to ten, takes a deep breath, and says, “Sure.”

“So, I head towards the play area to find Dick, because obviously, Replacement was a lost cause.”

“Geeze thanks, Jason.”

“But before I can get there, I spot Demon Spawn constructin’ a wacky ass Rube Goldberg contraption-”

Dick winces. “I saw the remains when I chased after Marinette. It was initially meant for me.”

“You were chasing the girl?”

Dick pouts. “She stole my phone!”

“Wait, so a civilian pickpocketed all of you?”

“She was quick,” mutters Tim.

Jason raises a finger. “She didn’t technically pickpocket me, she frisked me after tying me up. I was fully aware of the stealing.”

Bruce reminds himself that he can’t strangle his children. He. Can’t. Strangle. His. Children. “I plan to make all of you go through awareness training, again. A civilian!?”

“Still not convinced,” Jason mutters, crossing his arms.

“I don’t care she certainly hasn’t trained with assassins and spent half her life mastering stealth and deception. I expect better from you all.” All three men mutter in acquiescence, to the extent that they would do better. “Continue.”

Jason’s demureness fades to be replaced with a gleeful grin. “Yeah, there wasn’t much left of the trap after I jumped the little bastard. I started shooting-”

“Jason…” Bruce’s headaches gain a specific twinge of exhaustion whenever Jason becomes involved. It’s a talent he possessed since the day Bruce found him hi-jacking the Batmobile’s tires.

Jason’s hands go up in defense. “With the nerf gun, chill Bruce I ain’t trying to contribute to America’s public shooting crisis. I wouldn’t take a loaded gun into a shopin’ center unless crazies were already causin’ chaos.”

“I’d prefer you not to use guns at all.” It’s a pointless request, but maybe one day Jason would cede to it.

Jason scoffs. “Yeah, you’re still gunna lose that one pops. I got a rep to maintain.”

Bruce reigns in a sigh. Expected.

“Anyway, everythin’ was fine, I’d managed to dismantle their little trap for ya, you’re welcome,” he says with a pointed glance at Dick.

His eldest crosses his arms, and with a total deadpan stare, replies, “Thanks, Jason.”

“But then a security guard interfered after I knocked down a display or two.”

“So, you strung him up and gagged him?” Dick asks voice rising into the hysterical range.

Bruce now understands why Tim looks exhausted, dealing with the fallout from a situation this unhinged for the past forty-eight hours.

“No, I didn’t do that. Demon spawn already set the rig, waitin’ for you. The guard tripped it.” He pauses, cheese-covered chip in hand. “Although I did add the gag, he was shoutin’ too much and grabbin’ attention. It only took a second, but by the time I turned back, Damian had shot off like a rocket.”

“Don’t take your eyes off the target,” chides Tim, with a smug little grin.

Jason’s eyes flash a brighter shade of green. “Fire.”

“Shut up.”

“Boys…” Bruce warns.

“Fine, fine,” Jason mutters, as he takes another sip of his drink. “I chase him through the store and he’s barely keepin’ ahead of me. I keep shootin’ at him. Newer nerf guns have a range and a surprising amount of ammo. Bastard didn't even look inconvenienced; he takes a fucking phone call at one point.”

“That was when I was chasing Marinette and we found the remains of their plan,” Dick interrupts. “She panicked with the sprung trap and called someone, but I couldn’t hear a word.”

“Yeah, he jumps off the call when I manage a shot at his head, and I’m close enough to have him in reach. Unfortunately, he ducked into the employee-only entrance. We weave through security rooms and offices and shit, and of course, causin’ chaos there.”

“He was right there, and yet somehow, we’re the only ones banned,” mutters Tim.

Jason scoffs. “Yeah, don’t know how that happened. Pretty sure I saw him dump a pot of coffee on-” Tim groans in frazzled distress. “Bad Timbo, you can’t have any more caffeine until you take a goddamn nap!”

Tim slouches into the solid wood dining chair. “You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my dad.”

“Tim you can’t have any more caffeine until you sleep,” Bruce says.

Jason grins, sticking his tongue out at Tim, while Tim only glares and mutters something under his breath about ‘killjoys’ and ‘he’ll show them tired’ and Bruce really doesn’t want to see the result of that decision. This needs to wrap up soon. For both Tim’s sake, and his own as his headache has moved from Hassles-have-evolved-into-ongoing-dumpster-fires to Information-overload-caused by-dumbass-decisions-please-reboot-system.

“I get tangled in an office jam – literally, there were cords involved and by the time I scramble out of it, Damian’s already through a door and down a hallway. I haven’t a clue which way he’s gone, so I pick a direction and gun it because security is on my tail and there ain’t time to waste. I head down a hallway and lock the doors behind me to give me a second of breathing room. Then I spot the intercom system.”

“I wondered how you got close enough to use that,” Dick muses.

“I wondered what they did to piss you off so bad,” Tim adds.

Dick nods. “Same.”

“Yeah, so I call out Demon Spawn and French Bitch over the intercom, and I know they both must have panicked, but the guards broke through the locked doors, so I split. Now here’s the fucking miracle.” Jason leans forward, grinning. “I find the door that’ll take me back to the showroom area, the guards bearing down on me from all four sides. I don’t have a chance in hell, when the lights go off.”

“Blackout?” questions Bruce.

“Magic,” Dick says flatly. “It was Marinette.”

Jason slaps the table, snarling, “Damnit! Now I have to give credit to her.”

“She knocked out electricity to the whole store,” says Tim.

“And caused a display to collapse in front of me. I tripped,” admits Dick.

“You have fought off assassins while poisoned, and executed advanced acrobatic maneuvers with broken bones, and you tripped over a toppled Swedish store display because of the dark?” Bruce knows he’s trained his children better. Why in the world did this go so sideways on them?

Dick braces his arms against the table and roughly slides his fingers through his hair. ”I know. I know. I was right there. Any other day and I wouldn’t have blinked about jumping right over it, but this time it felt… off. Bad day?”

“You’re getting old Golden Boy.” Jason takes a sip of his drink, doing nothing to hide his shit-eating grin as he teases his older brother. “I guess it’s all downhill from here ain’t it.”

Dick flips him off.

Jason sticks out his tongue.

Bruce’s headache takes on a twinge of my-children-are-immature-brats feeling (generally categorized by a sharp sting right at his temple) and holds in an exasperated sigh.

“So, after magic girl shuts the lights off with her mind or whatever, I escape the security guards by an inch. One emergency exit later, and I’m back in the store proper. People are freakin’ the fuck out about the lights. By the time they turn on again, I’ve lost Damian for good, and now I just try to stay off security’s radar. I settle in a nice little blind spot right outside the children’s toy area and keep myself out of any trouble.” Jason looks over at Dick, fighting to keep a smug grin off his face. “Course I did see a woman go off on a poor employee. I kept my nose clean of it ‘cause it wasn’t my business.”

“Oh, ha, ha very funny. That woman was a menace,” groans Dick.

“Woman?” Bruce questions, almost scared to ask.

“Jessica Merope-Laverne, fifty-five, resident of Pleasantville. Married twice, has two children, a restraining order, and a police file with multiple notes about disturbing the peace,” Tim rattles off. “Thoroughly unpleasant.”

“That’s an understatement,” mutters Dick.

“Practically dragged Dickie Bird away by the ear.”

“Right as I was about to nab Marinette too. She’d hidden in one of the wardrobes in the room, and I was this close-” Dick positions his fingers scant centimeters apart from each other, “-to cornering her, and I got dragged away.”

“Shit, would have loved to know that,” mutters Jason. “Anyway, I stood around, making sure nobody was on my tail, soon I heard rumors about a ruckus in the atrium-”

“That would be me,” Tim admits with a grin.

“Well, I didn’t know that. I was hoping demon spawn and Frenchie were involved somehow, so I headed over, and then-”

“Oh, I know what happened from there. I saw the video.” Bruce pins Tim and Jason with a stare. “I respect both of you have opinions-”

“Opinions? Opinions? I have justified grounds for calling out his revolutionary bullshit! His entire life embodies nothing but the anthesis of systemic poverty, and he argues for class cooperation!” shouts Jason. Bruce always marvels at how eloquent Jason becomes when angry.

“Violence isn’t the answer,” counters Tim. “You would harm the very people you try to uplift in the process.”

“Sure, it is! It’s the natural response to a gluttonous, greedy, overburdened, bureaucratic system that’s leeching off the populous and perpetuating its own supremacy.”

Tim slams a hand against the table, raising to his feet, exhaustion clearing from his eyes. “It’s an option, not the option. We can do better than violence if we work at the cause's root problem without pulling out a fucking guillotine.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Oh of course you would argue for that, you’ve never had less than six figures in your bank account in your life.”

“So says the self-proclaimed drug lord!”

“That was ten years ago!”

“A bag of heads on the steps of the GCPD!”

“Oh, get over it!”

“If it matters,” interjects Dick. “Probably doesn’t, systemic economic issues are hard to fix when we have bigger problems like an actively insane criminal population that likes destroying important city infrastructure on a monthly basis.”

“Which Wayne Enterprises does its best to counter,” adds Bruce, not bothering to chide his children back on track. This particular topic turned them into a bunch of unherdable cats.

“Funneling more money into the one percent’s hands!” Jason’s bordering on manic at this point.

“We are the one percent, Jason!” counters Tim. “And we stay that way, despite the copious amount of infrastructure projects, that we hire Gotham citizens for, and pay at least a living wage to all of them. Not to mention every other single employee we hire who also are paid a living wage, with benefits, and support. I know I am privileged. I am trying here.” The last sentence came out as a distraught cry, as he collapses back into his chair.

“Are… are you okay?” Dick asks tentatively, ready to cross the table to comfort his brother.

Tim shoves his hands into his hair and mutters, “I need an espresso.”

“No, you need sleep,” says Bruce, mentally calculating where all the caffeine in the house is so he can hide it. “Can we return to the recap, so your brother can go to bed?”

“My side of things is much shorter in comparison to Jason’s,” says Dick. “As long as nobody interrupts.” Casting a pointed glare in Jason’s direction. Jason shrugs casually and crosses his arms.

“I waited at the children’s play area. Now, a man my age would attract attention without a need to be there, so I’d ducked into the employee-only area, and grabbed a shirt to disguise myself. I hung out in the Starbucks for a good forty-five minutes trying to look like I was on break while observing the play area. Although I couldn’t tell where the vent entrance was, I figured two adults Damian and Marinette’s size would be easy to spot coming out of an area meant for children.

“When an hour and a half passed by, I’m nervous, because neither Jason nor Tim has sent any word. I called them both. They didn’t answer.”

“Yeah, 'cause the French phone napper took our phones,” mutters Jason.

“So, I decided to do some reconnaissance. The lady at the front desk looked bored enough, and so I went over to… chat.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “You mean flirt.”

Dick glares. “Shut up. So, I hang around the front desk for half an hour at most, before the kids went crazy. Like plastic balls being thrown everywhere, kids shrieking, this one little girl, later we learn her name is Abby, she’s doing this whole speech about a revolution-”

“Tim…”

“Not me, I’m not here at this point.”

“I stand there in shock, wondering what the heck set it all off. This one little girl runs up to the daycare worker, Melinda? Melody? Something. I don’t remember. And the little girl’s nose was bleeding, so there immediately goes my peaceful cover. I back up into the crowd, which at this point has gathered around pretty thick.”

“You know I wondered why there were so many people hanging around in that front lobby area,” says Tim.

“I’m almost sure the commotion has something to do with Marinette and Damian, so I keep my eyes peeled waiting for any adult-sized figures to emerge from the play area.” Dick sighs, rubbing a hand across his face. “I was right of course, but I missed Marinette slipping out, and she approached me from behind.”

“This is where you get pickpocketed too!” crows Jason.

“Really, Richard?” asks Bruce with a raised brow. This is ridiculous.

“Okay, look, I was distracted, off my game, there was a ton of screeching, and it had been a long day. And she was very good. The technique was flawless, minus a bit of overacting and a touch of obviousness. Which was her goal because-”

“~It was a trap~” Jason and Tim sing together.

“It was bait,” Dick corrects. “Leading me to a trap, that didn’t even work. So really, I did the best between the three of us.”

“You all will complete remedial awareness training, so a situation like this never happens again.” Bruce massages the bridge of his nose with a long-suffering sigh. “Just… just please continue.”

“I can’t full-out chase her or anything, but she keeps out of reach through the store, until we reach the place where they set the trap. Obviously, Jason already tripped it, so she turned face and ran in the opposite direction. I followed, trying to convince her to stop and talk. But at this point, she’s full-on outpacing me and doing well too. I’m hesitant to say trained, but she had practice.”

“She’s gotta be a spy, or maybe she’s working for the League?” muses Jason.

“Damian would see right through that,” interrupts Bruce. He knows his youngest son has an instinct when sniffing out undercover League members. Talia certainly sent enough of them over the years.

“Maybe she’s just that good?” says Tim. “I certainly can’t find a damn thing on her, and being a League plant would explain that.”

Dick shrugs. “We’ll figure out her deal later. She calls Damian, and they talk briefly, but I couldn’t hear the conversation. Soon after Jason does his whole intercom takeover Marinette pulls out her little magic electro bursts and short circuits the electricity to the entire store.”

“And then caused you to trip.”

Dick wearily nods. “And then caused me to trip. By the time I detangle myself, she’s long gone. The lights come back on, and I’m stuck wondering where the hell she’s gone. I try to avoid getting clocked by security, so I keep to blind spots, which is how I eventually spot her doing the same.”

“Suspicious,” mutters Tim. “More evidence for the ‘League plant’ theory.”

“Or she could know security is looking for a woman of her description and she’s smart, either way, I tail her and corner her in a display room, no idea why she chose that one, but when I walk in it’s empty.”

“She teleported, or vanished like a ninja,” gasps Tim, eyes wide, pupils smaller than pinpricks. Bruce is now counting the seconds until he passes out.

Dick shakes his head. “No, she hid in the fucking closet. Tim, you need sleep.” Tim sticks out his tongue.

“I was this-” Dick places his fingers centimeters away from each other “-close to nabbing her, and then the whole Jessica situation happened.” He rubs a hand through already messed up, fly-away hair. “She drags me away screeching about lawyers and customer service, and it had been a very long day, so the second her back was turned I bolted. I couldn’t risk heading back to the display room, although if I were Marinette I’d be long gone, so I backtracked to where I stuffed my actual clothes and headed towards the atrium.”

“Yes, I saw your arrival as well,” Bruce confirms with an exasperated drawl. The videos spread out across multiple platforms gave an all-around idea of what happened in the atrium. “You all know better than to escalate things in public. We have an image to maintain after all." The boys nod, cowed and guilty. "That being said, things wrapped up rather neatly.” He eyes the boys with a paranoid weariness. “Too neatly.”

All three sag into their seats and gaze at each other with sheepish grimaces.

“Yeah, B, we noticed that too,” says Jason. “But at the time…” he trails off.

Tim continues, his speech sluggish. “It felt normal, to accept what was going on. The fight, the crazy lady, the little kid with the ball pit balls, her uncle being Dick’s old friend, and the store manager, and they let us go. It was easy to go along with it.” Grimacing, he gestures to his assorted piles of papers. “You know, besides for all the work I have now.” Crossing his arms on the table he lays his head in the middle. “Too many people, so little sense.”

“Damian hasn’t said a word about any of it.” Dick slouches lower in his chair.

“Kid was all smirks when he and the little liar approached us after we left the store,” grumbles Jason. "Had fuckin' ice cream and everything." He spins the almost empty bottle of alcohol coke on the table. “Of course, they made us wait, because after we left and booked it to the car, Dickie realizes his keys are gone too. So there we are standin' in the parking lot, Timmy doesn't have his shoes, and all we got between us is one nerf gun, no phones, no keys, and no fucks left to give.” Bruce, too tired from the absolute rollercoaster of emotions and information his children just sent him on, can do nothing but muster up a stern and disappointed glare. He trained them all better than to let a civilian pull one over on not just one of them, but all of them.

“Yeah, yeah, I know situational awareness. We’ll work on-” Dick breaks off his sentence, and sighs softly. A small soft smile overtakes his face, and he raises a single finger to his mouth. He nods in Tim’s direction.

Tim’s head, previously cradled in his arms, now lolls to the side. Neon blue light from his laptop highlighted his closed eyes, and the purplish bags underneath.

“Finally,” Jason mutters. “I swear he has the survival instincts of a wet paper bag. He’s been up for way too long.”

Bruce is just grateful he won't need to physically drag Tim off to bed and force him to get some desperately needed sleep. “Now we just need to get him to his room.” He would have done it himself if his ribs didn’t spasm the second he thought of the idea.

“Not it,” Dick whispers so quickly it’s practically a rush of air.

“Not it,” says Jason, barely a millisecond behind.

“Ha!” Dick impishly grins. “You do it.”

“But-”

“Nope, I said it first. You got to carry him.”

Jason turns his head towards Bruce, big bluish-green eyes looking for support.

Bruce doesn’t get himself involved in the decision-making games his children play. “He said it first.”

Jason’s hopeful glance turns into a disgruntled snarl. “I hate both of you,” he spits.

“Love ya too, Jay.”

“Thank you, Jason.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, wrinkling his nose. Jason pushes back his chair, and although he’s annoyed, the solid wood chair doesn’t scrape against the floor, so he can’t be too mad. Despite drinking his entire liter of mystery-alcohol-diet-coke mixture, his footsteps pace steady and strong. “Come here, ya little coffee-addicted gremlin.” Jason slips his arms around Tim’s body. It’s a testament to how exhausted his son must be, that Tim only flutters his eyes and protests incoherently at being lifted out of his chair.

“Quiet down, Replacement,” Jason murmurs, his voice soft as he speaks to his sleep-deprived brother. “All your calls and research will be there when you return from the land of nod.”

“But…”

“You can go willingly, or I can grab sedatives from the med bay and forcefully put your ass to sleep. I’ll put a bet on who’ll win that brawl.” Jason stands a good six inches taller than Tim, who looks like little more than a bedraggled rag doll in his older brother’s arms. Bruce knew who would win that fight too. Tim sighs and relaxes another inch into Jason’s arms. “There ya go. You can go back to bein’ insufferable once you’ve had some fucking sleep.”

“Hmm…” Tim's eyes fully flutter shut. Jason shakes his head and rolls his eyes, but softly traverses the room so as to not jostle him. Looking back over his shoulder one last time to shoot an I-can’t-believe-I’m-doing-this look at Bruce and Dick, before walking out of the room.

Silence overtakes the grand dining room as the last of Jason’s footsteps fades into the echoing halls of Wayne Manor. A light rain drizzles outside, the faintest patter hitting the tall arched windows letting in a soft grey light.

Dicks groans, pulling himself out of his slouch gracefully and into more of a respectable position. “I’m getting too old for that.”

“If you’re old, I must be ancient,” Bruce responds. He’s not, really. Only forty-seven to Dick’s thirty-two. What he’d been thinking taking in a ten-year-old at twenty-five, he couldn’t really quite say. The only thing that mattered at the time was the aching echo of loneliness reflected in the eyes of a child who had just lost their parents.

Now, look at them, all these years later.

“Nah, you’re not ancient, B. We’ve just been through enough shit in our lives to age a person twenty times over.”

Bruce gives him a look of high disappointment. “Stunts like this do not help, Richard.”

Dick has the decency to look properly ashamed. “I really didn’t mean for the situation to get so out of hand,” Dick insists in a soft, quiet tone. Bruce doesn’t quite believe it. His sons thrive off of chaos. Even if they didn’t mean for things to get out of hand, they tended to actively encourage it once in the middle of the undertow. “I know, I know, but how was I supposed to anticipate Damian teaming up with a… witch? Magician? Whatever she is.” Dick mutters the last sentence, but Bruce hears it clearly.

His sons certainly think the young woman is dangerous. Tim is thoroughly confused and stressed by her existence, although deciphering his third son’s emotions through his fog of exhaustion is a vexing endeavor Bruce still isn’t sure he accomplishes all the time. Jason clearly hates her or at least is holding a very large, very deep grudge against her. He wonders what exactly the content of the conversation was when she threatened Tim and Damian. He wonders if she knew the effect it would have on Jason.

Flickering light from the chandelier above pierces his eyes like a particularly vicious game of stab-the-vigilante, but this conversation is important, so, despite the full body ache accompanying his you’ve-pushed-too-far-and-now-you’ll-suffer-the-consequences migraine, he pushes through to ask, “What do we actually know about her?”

Dick sighs heavily, rubbing a hand across his face, and suddenly he looks every inch of his thirty-two years. “To be honest? Only a little. Tim wasn’t the only one to look her up. I did my searching too.”

“And?”

“Practically nothing. Basic info, but school records sealed tighter than Fort Knox, and firewalls grow tighter every time I try to hack ‘em. School activities, online media presence, and even pictures; all of it is whisps in the wind. Every time I try to look deeper, something...” Dick shudders as if shaking away a bad feeling. “I come up short and I can’t find a reason why. Even trying to think about Paris as a whole feels off and I can’t put my finger on it.”

“I can see if there’s anything in the League’s database about the city the past few years. It was Diana’s home base for decades until…” Bruce trails off, his mind an unexpected blank. Diana moved to the US from Paris eventually. Sometime within the last decade, but he can’t quite remember why. Surely, she must have told him at some point.

“She’s a fashion designer, I know that much. She has a website but it’s very bare bones. Commission work only. And her current course of study at Gotham U is Fashion and Business Management. But-” Dick’s hands flail into the air. “She’s from Paris! What on earth possessed her from moving from one of the fashion capitals of the world to here, to study fashion is beyond me.”

“Hmmm…” Bruce’s brain whirls at a million miles a minute. Connections forming and rearranging on his mind’s case board. The incongruency is so stark, there must be a reason. They haven’t found it yet.

“As for her magic…” Dick shrugs. “She said her powers mostly affected situational outcomes, and from the incidents I saw, she told the truth. But I’ve never seen magic like that before. Magic that just… happens. She didn’t say words, she didn’t make hand gestures. She used tiny little - I want to call them mechanized balls, but we never came close enough to tell – to kickstart the magic.”

“A techno-mage then?”

Dick contemplates the idea for a moment before saying, “Could be. But it felt more than that. As soon as she became involved the whole day felt… left of normal. Which I suppose aligns with situational outcome manipulation. The day certainly went their way…” Dick shrugs. “I just don’t know.”

Bruce hums, finally asking the question that had swirled in his mind since the girl was brought up. “Do you think she’s a danger?”

Dick leans back in the chair, his face an avalanche of flickering emotions. Wind lightly howled outside the dining hall filling the intervening silence. Finally, he sighs and says, “No, I don’t think so. She was chaotic sure but genuinely enjoyed the game for what it was. Damian probably encouraged the more unhinged ideas. And yes, she has magic, but so do a ton of other, far more obviously dangerous people. Our system is tricked out for all types of magic users, and even if she can bypass them due to her own unique magic, we’d at least receive a warning. And as for our identities…” Dick half-smiles. “She didn’t even know we were the ‘Waynes’ until we were just about to leave, and she didn’t appear particularly star-struck. I doubt she’d make the jump from chaotic billionaire’s kids to vigilantes.”

“As for Damian…?” Bruce hardly knows what to make of his youngest’s out-of-character reaction and hopes to receive some cohesive read on the situation from his eldest.

Dick, being quite unhelpful, shrugs. “I think you should talk to him. Get his side of the story. Things may have been chaotic on our end, but he did genuinely have fun. And, yes, he’s acting out of the norm.” Dick pauses. “Way, way, out of the norm for him, but I don’t think he’s enchanted. I think he just has a crush.”

Bruce blinks. Isn’t that a hell of a thought?

Damian.

With a crush.

He doesn’t have the bandwidth to deal with these kinds of realities. Reflexively he massages his temple with the tips of his fingers trying to relieve the paining, aching pressure.

“Headache again?” asks Dick with sympathy. After twenty years his son knows his tells well, and Bruce has always had headaches, although his reasons for having them have certainly increased over the years.

“Yeah, is what it is though. We’ll keep an eye on Damian, have you run him through the influence-affected protocols?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

Dick shrugs. “Nothing, it’s mostly why I think he’s fine. She may be a danger, or powerful, but I don’t think she’s doing anything to Damian. Besides making him run up the data plan on his phone. He really hasn’t stopped texting the past two days.”

They’ve spent plenty of time talking about Damian, but Bruce hasn’t seen a glimpse of him since he woke up this morning. “Where is he?”

Dick pulls out his phone. “On a date, according to Stephanie.” Pulling up a photo that’s taken in a long-distance setting. Damian is pictured, seated at a cafe table, drinking out of a white coffee cup. Across from him sits a girl, Asiatic features, black hair, clad in a colorful sundress. They’re both smiling at each other.

It’s normal and adorable. And slightly worrying. Damian doesn’t smile like that unless looking at a fluffy four-legged creature.

“Stephanie trailed him?”

Dick flips the phone away. “Actually, she and Cass both followed him when he left this afternoon. Not sure what they planned, but they’ve sent some nice pictures.” He pauses for a moment and smiles fondly. “If she’s not a danger, or a League plant, this could be really good for him.”

Bruce hums, unsure, and hating himself for that unsurety. He’ll make a call when he has more information, and less of a migraine. “Go wash up and grab some sleep. I’m out until my ribs heal, so I’ll need you to take point on patrol.”

Rising from his chair, Dick stretches and shoots him a grin. “It took you twenty-five years, but damn, you’ve finally learned to call it quits when you need a break. Proud of you B.”

Bruce doesn’t bother to disguise his roll of the eyes. Dick would know he did it regardless. “Get on.”

Dick shoots him a lazy salute. “Sir, yes, sir.” He ambles to the door, and Bruce calls out again before he’s gone.

“And next time, Dick, please try to keep the antics out of the paper, and off the internet.”

The shit-eating grin betrays Dick’s real thoughts when he says, “Of course Bruce, won’t happen again.”

Liar.

Bruce shakes his head in reluctant bemusement – should he honestly have expected anything else – and Dick ducks out of the door without another word. Finally, the dining room is quiet, except for the pitter-patter of rain on the window panes, and the soft hum of Tim’s computer.

Carefully, Bruce rises from the chair, his side twinging, head throbbing in what is now a full-on migraine.

He should have stayed in bed.

Ah, well, he’s suffered worse, and now he has a good idea of what happened with his sons that caused a headache so insistent he felt it halfway across the galaxy.

Gently closing Tim’s laptop, he doesn’t bother to touch the articles and paper, knowing his son’s organizational system may appear a mess to outsiders – even him on occasion – but that it has meaning for him. He observes the rest of the room; collecting Tim’s coffee mugs, and Jason’s empty plate and coke bottle – no need to have Alfred do it if he was right here – and ambles slowly to the kitchen taking care not to drop the dishes or disturb his ribs.

Placing the dishes away, Bruce leans heavily on the counter. Mind whirling, analyzing, and connecting the information as he has always done, however, it battles for dominance over the present, persistent, migraine. His body screams for more rest, and as much as he wishes to dig to the bottom of these problems right now, he trusts Dick has given him an accurate read of the situation. Later he can pry information from the girls, maybe they’ll have a less biased view of Damian’s… friend than his sons do.

He flicks the lights off in the kitchen, for now though, he’s heading back to sleep.

-line break-

A nap, a full meal, and hours later, the pitch black of the night concealed a heavier storm than the light drizzle which draped over the manor earlier in the day. Bruce, knowing damn well he wasn’t fit for patrol, sat in his office, a bottle of forty-year whisky perched next to a crystalline tumbler and a box of chocolates. A minor indulgence, especially as he should stay far away from alcohol at the moment. But if he hadn’t died from insane nutcases, aliens, or his children’s antics, mixing medicine and alcohol probably wouldn’t kill him.

Bruce snapshots a picture of the newspaper Alfred gave him this morning.

The front-page cover contains enough of the story to showcase the significant amount of drama his children had caused.

He texts the images to both Diana and Clark.

All he adds is, ‘I always know, and I’m always right.’

He pours another finger of the amber liquid into his glass and swirls it around as the computer turns on. Just because he wasn’t out and about, didn’t mean he intended to take the night off. Bruce stretches his fingers and opens up a blank case file template.

Time to find out who exactly is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

#maribat #damian x marinette #maridami #mlb crossover #daminette #damimari #marinette dupain cheng x damian wayne #ml x dc #marinette dupain-cheng x damian wayne #damientte #damianette #mlb x dc #the ikea verse #ikea verse #headache classification system #the great ikea game

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miraculouspenta · 4 years

Text

.. ... ......................

😏😏😏😏😏

Names are not real: Cat Robinson is @sunflowers-and-mooncakes Becca Rose is @miraculouslycurious Mel Lydia is @alittlemelody716 Vi Robinson is @charme-de-malchan Ria Brooks is @blondie-4404 Meg Wilson is @eggadoodle Nyx Chaos is @nyx-in-line Go check them out cuz they are awesome people!

Without further ado, I present to you:

World Domination

Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, Tumblr, and literally every social media platform, was blowing up. Six of the most famous people in the world had just been seen walking out of a coffee shop, TOGETHER. These people had included; The Robinson sisters, Cat Robinson, the world's best fashion designer and Vi Robinson, world renowned chef, Becca Rose, an incredible actress, Mel Lydia, a talented photographer, Ria Brooks, author of multiple bestseller books, and Meg Wilson, an intelligent travelling teacher. But that was not the main reason people were going crazy. It was their t-shirts.

Their t-shirts were dyed in ombre white to pink with the famed bat symbol from DC Comics on their chest, surrounded by flowers. At first, people hadn't thought much about it. They thought that it was a sign to show their support of DC. That is, until a Maribat fan had tweeted:

People were quick to google what in the world Maribat was. To their surprise, it was a crossover fandom, a crossover fandom of DC’s Batman and Disney’s Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir to be exact. It wasn’t as big as the Batman or Miraculous fandom themselves, but it was by no means small. With over 1600 works on Archive of Our Own, this fandom had blossomed ever since it appeared 36th on Tumblr’s Top 2020 Ships. It was honestly sad how much hate this fandom was receiving. It was, is, a very supportive community with tons of amazing writers that had written plenty of equally amazing fics.

Most fans of these famed people had been curious and started reading a fanfiction or two. Oh, how big of a mistake had that been. They became hooked. And as many members of this fandom say; ‘This fandom is a wormhole that once you get in, there is no way out.’ More people became members of this fandom and it grew enormous overnight. In a week, these six people announced that they would be doing an interview together. The interviewer, known as Nyx Chaos, was also famous.

“So, there is a rumour that the six of you are a part of the ‘Maribat’ fandom, can you all confirm this?” Nyx asked during the interview. Meg said her signature “Heck yeah!” while others agreed with various ways of saying yes. Along with that, Becca also added, “It’s the reason we met actually.”

“Yes,” Mel continued, “When we started getting famous, we ditched our false names in a discord server we were all in.”

“I remember saying something along the lines of ‘I knew your writing style was familiar’ when Ria said her name,” Cat laughed as well.

“I have two questions,” Nyx said, “One, did the other people in the server immediately believe you or did they ask for some proof? Two, if that were true, how did word not get out sooner?”

“Easy,” Vi stated, “These people are not idiots nor tabloids. They immediately asked for proof. We live streamed on discord, took selfies, and showed them our IDs, mostly our passports.”

“As for the second question,” Ria followed up, “We have known our server members for a long time, we treat each other like friends and family.”

“Aw, that’s sweet. However, I have a couple of questions once more,” the mischievous glint in Nyx’s eyes when she said that did not go unnoticed by our stars.

“Does the server have a member with the tumblr page @nyx-in-line who is often joked as ‘the Goddess of Night”? Is there a member who people often joke as ‘the Princess of Innocence’? Does Becca often offer to make custom chibi artwork for anyone who wants to?” It didn’t even take the six thirty seconds to guess what Nyx was implying.

“NYXIE?!!” Becca’s voice rang loud and clear.

Nyx laughed, “The one and only.” It was safe to say that all seven had dissolved into laughter and giggles as they hugged each other.

The Maribat fandom grew even larger. Cat started a Maribat line, Ria published a Maribat book which soon to hit the top charts, Vi had created a new sweet and sour dish - she named it Daminette because Marinette is sweet and Damian is a brooder like his father - Nyx talked about Maribat a lot on her show, Mel took multiple pictures with all the ship aesthetics, and Meg had students submitting Maribat fanfiction when she assigned them to write stories. Best of all, Becca got a part in a new movie. This is not surprising as she is an actress, however, after news had got out that Becca was casted, Disney and DC had announced they were doing a collaboration. They confirmed that Becca was casted as Marinette from the Miraculous Universe, and the name Batman had slipped. Fans went wild.

Maribat has officially taken over the world.

803 words

This was soooooooo fun to write. Thanks to @lovemidnighteclipse12 and @m3owww for beta reading it for me!

XOXO ~𝓔𝓲𝓵𝓮𝓮𝓷

Permanent Taglist:

@animegirlweeb @insane-fangirl-of-everything @nickristus-dreamer@miraculouslydumb

#maribat #this is just a weird idea I had #idk what else to tag lol

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mar1garden · 5 years

Text

maribat march day 1: firsts

only fourty million days late! not too bad!! (i didnt realize this was a thing so get ready for daminette for every prompt) (also. sorry abt how lazy this is im TIREDDDDDD)

The first time Damian laid eyes on Marinette, he thought she wasn’t the sharpest spoon in the drawer. For one, she was walking alone. At night. In Gotham.

For another, she was speaking to a villain like she had no clue who they were.

For a third, that villain was The Riddler. And she was making fun of his costume. Well, not making fun, but suggesting alterations that would be less “headache-inducing.”

Robin swooped down from the rooftop, landing gracefully next to the two. “Hello, Riddler. Young miss. Having a nice night?” he asked rhetorically, getting ready to chase The Riddler when he inevitably ran. The girl turned to him, smiling, and he could swear she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. He cursed his treacherous blood as he blushed slightly.

The first time he heard her sweet, fluting voice was as she greeted him: “Ah! Hello, monsieur Robin! I was looking for you as well!” she started, and Robin blinked in surprise. “I’ve been meeting the Rogues and Vigilantes of Gotham and suggesting costume improvements, mainly because it seems the people of this city are blind. Monsieur, all due respect, but you look like an emo stoplight,” she commented , grinning at him. He saw The Riddler mouth ‘thank you’ to him as he snuck away.

He couldn’t find it in himself to stop talking to the girl, though.

The first time he heard her name, he considered just how fitting a name it was. Marinette. It flowed off the tongue gently, the mellifluous sound of it pairing well with the sweet girl before him. They spoke as he escorted her back to her hotel, and when the Batfam asked him how patrol had gone, he had no comment for them.

The first time he saved her, she had angered one of Gotham’s less patient Rogues about their costume choice: The Joker. Robin scooped her up before the clown could harm a hair on Marinette’s head. As the cord of his grappling hook retracted, pulling them up, he chided her on which Rogues were genuinely dangerous.

The first time she met his brothers was as he landed on an unfortunate rooftop, Marinette in his arms. They were speaking jovially until Damian heard Tim crow, “I KNEW IT,” over the comms. Damian blinked.

“Knew what?” he asked, holding up a finger to ask Marinette to wait for a second. Tim was cheering victoriously in his ear. Before he could yell at his brother to shut up, Jason, Dick, and Bruce stepped out of the shadows. Damian groaned.

The first time he kissed Marinette was right after she kissed him. He’d just saved her from a villain again, though this time it wasn’t her fault that she was in danger. She’d kissed his cheek as a thank you just as he turned his head. She stammered apologies over and over until he’d gently kissed her cheek. They kindly ignored each other’s blush.

The first time Marinette met his civilian self, she had bumped into him on the street. He’d dropped all his papers and almost yelled at her, but then he saw who it was. She helped him pick up his papers, apologizing the whole time. He walked away with her phone number “in case anything was damaged and you want me to pay for it!” and an amused grin.

Their first date had been wonderful, but she’d seemed somewhat distant. The closer she got to each of his sides, the more distant she grew with each. Until one day, when they were talking- him as Robin, rather than Damian- she confided that she’d been seeing someone. That he was kind and a perfect gentleman, that she liked him very much. She told Robin she was going to break it off. She told Robin she loved him.

Damian knew it was against protocol, but he ripped off his mask in that instant. Her eyes widened. Her jaw dropped.

The first time he heard her laugh, she practically fell into hysterics. “I- I- I fell for the same boy? TWICE? I was- I was going to break it off with, with YOU, because I felt bad that I was in love with YOU AGAIN?” she cackled, and if Damian blushed while he laughed, no one said anything.

The first time he saw her in her wedding dress, he cried.

For the first time in years.

#miraculous ladybug #ml #roserose #marinette dupain cheng #mod rose #ml marinette #mlb #ml marinette dupain cheng #daminette #maridami #maribat

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fsketchart · 5 years

Text

Blind Date - Daminette December

Hey, I'm sorry no tag list again. I've got into some heated arguments today and I've been crying like crazy all day, so I'm sorry. This prompt is rushed and written the day of, so I'm really sorry if it's rushed. Also, if anything is factually incorrect I deeply apologise! For the dog, I'm just basing them off my Grandma's service dog so please bear with me! The dog isn't heavily included, I was intending to at first but nrndkendkndke yeah. Also thank you Mari when I saw your Daminette December posts I remember I forgot mine so yayyyy- @noirdots

BLIND DATE

Damian walked down the street, heading to the local coffee shop. He was needed back at the manor by Dick sometime in the afternoon but he wasn't gonna let that get in the way of his morning coffee. Ever since he got his first taste, he was hooked. He kept his right hand in his pocket and the left to carry his bag and his belongings. He wasn't in a good mood that day, and he needed to get some coffee to wake himself up.

When Damian arrived, he noticed the coffee shop was jam packed. He knew he hadn't been able to stop by in awhile, but he still wasn't expecting such a long line.

Working as a barista, a short girl with black hair tied into low pigtails and bright blue eyes was running around. She was jumping and running left and right trying to catch up to all the orders, but the customers seemed to think it was cute and didn't seem to mind all that much. Alongside her was a dog who had a vest on his back. Damian didn't bother to see the dogs vest and just continued to the counter.

When Marinette saw him, she rushed over.

"Welcome to the Mini Miracles cafe! How can I help you?"

"I'll take a coffee," Damian said. He started describing his order and she just nodded along. The dog beside her watched, and was alert. He examined Damian before continuing to look around the cafe. It was then that Damian remembered that no dogs were allowed in the cafe. He would know, he had tried to take his own to the cafe before, but was shut down and asked to leave.

"Is that all?" Marinette asked. Damian looked down at her and decided it was better to keep his mouth shut. He didn't want to say something he'd regret. She seemed like a sweet girl, and so Damian held his tongue.

"Yes."

"Alright! Coming right up!"

Damian sat by his usual seat with his bag and laptop. Soon enough, the short barista came rushing back to the front.

"Here you go!" Marinette said, as she placed his coffee down. Besides the coffee, she placed a cookie wrapped in a bag.

"I didn't order this?" Damian said, blushing slightly.

"You seemed a little down, and besides, I think I recognize you. You're Dick's little brother right?" Damian's eyes widened in surprise.

"How did you know?"

"He's shown me picture. He talks about you an awful lot. He's mighty proud of you," she said with a sweet and sincere smile.

"You know my brother?"

"Of course! I design a lot of his suits for meetings and business," she said.

Damian paused for a moment before suddenly remembering. "Oh, you're Marinette Dupain-Cheng then, right?"

"Yup!" Marinette said, popping the p.

Damian held out his hand shook her hand. "My name is Damian." Marinette waved goodbye and began to tend to the rest of the customers.

------

As Damian worked, his mind kept drifting back to Marinette. He remembered Dick blabbering on and on about her and her designs, and she seemed sweet enough in the stories. But as Damian looked down at the cookie in his hand (the coffee long forgotten) he couldn't help but be a little intrigued. She seemed sweet enough, and Damian figured he might as well get to know who really is the girl Dick has been blabbering on about.

Marinette returned, when Damian waved her over. He pulled out his wallet, and handed her an extra large tip. When Marinette tried to refuse, he held up a hand.

"Thank you for the coffee and the cookie. Have a wonderful day." Damian stood up to leave, and Marinette awkwardly waved goodbye.

------

For weeks, this continued. Each time, Damian smiled just a bit more and Marinette seemed to laugh just a bit more. Eventually, they couldn't stop talking to each other, the point where Damian's coffee, was often left forgotten. Damian was feeling nervous about asking for her number, and was beginning to get anxious. Was it too soon? Not soon enough? Damian couldn't decide.

Yet again, Damian walked into the cafe. Marinette's dog barked twice when he entered and Marinette looked towards the door. Damian greeted Marinette, and her smile and eyes brightened upon hearing his voice.

They chatted for a bit, as Marinette prepared his usual coffee. Just as he was about to leave, Damian paused. Marinette waited, curiously.

"Would...would you be interested in going on a date?" Damian asked, a little red but refusing to break eye contact.

Marinette seemed a little surprised, but smiled. "Sure, what were you thinking?"

"Uh, perhaps a movie? I heard the live action remake of, 'Billy Bob the Wild Cowboy,' had some horrible voice acting and singing and whatnot, but I heard the graphics and animations were what really saved the movie. I saw the trailer and the graphics were fantastic, I'm positive you'll love them."

Marinette paused. She then burst out into giggles.

Damian just turned bright red and was about to apologise when Marinette held up her hand.

"Sorry sorry! It's just…" Marinette tried to get her giggling under control. "You realize I'm blind right? I thought I told you?"

Damian just paused.

And then began to profusely apologise. Marinette just giggled as shook her head.

"It's alright! Relax. I'm not angry! Honest."

"But-"

"No, really. Maybe we can work something out. Text me?"

"I don't have your number…"

"I've..I've been putting it on a couple of your coffee cup with call me or text me on them?"

And sure enough, when Damian looked down at his coffee, he saw Marinette written on there with her number, with a hearted i. Damian wanted to hit his head on a walk.

"Really do you wanna do a special date because you're blind or-"

"Woah I'm gonna have to stop you right there. I don't need special accommodations. I already have my seeing eye dog, trust me I'm good. If I have issues or need help, I'll let you know. I might be blind but I'm not helpless," Marinette said, and gave him the thumbs up. Damian nodded.

"I uh I'll text you?"

"Yup!"

"Alright well, uh...bye?" Damian said, while trying to walk backwards to the door while doing finger guns. While walking backwards, he hit his head on the door. Scrambling, he rushed out the door, his face red with embarrassment. Marinette just giggled and went back to work, eager to see a text on her phone when she got home.

Bonus :

Kindness is a language the deaf can hear and the blind can see.

I'm sorry if anything is inaccurate. Feel free to alert me if you know if I got anything incorrect. Thanks for reading.

Below is a blushy Damian stick figure. Yay.

#daminette #marinette x damian #maridami #daminette december

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nxrthmizu · 5 years

Text

-Lordbug, Robin, and Kitty Noir- Chapter One: ‘In Which Damian Saves The Day In A Spotted Spandex’

/Part One//Part Two//Part Three//Part Four//Part Five//Part Six//Part Seven//Part Eight//Part Nine//Part Ten//Part Eleven/

---

Description: Daminette AU in which Damian has the Ladybug/Lordbug miraculous by accident but he has to keep being Robin too so he switches between the two and of course the Marinette x Black Cat that we’ve all needed

Warnings: Mild but censored cursing

---

“I’m going to be late for school!” Marinette blubbered as she gathered her things chaotically, shoving them into her backpack clumsily. “Bye mama, papa!”

“Bye sweetie, see you after school!” Sabine calls out with a laugh as her bumbling daughter races out the door in hurry, her pigtails flying the air as she dashed to school.

---

“I do not understand why I have to school in Paris!” Damian protested angrily. “I do not wish to be among idiots who barely speak English!”

“But you speak French.” Dick pointed out with a chuckle. “You can communicate via French.”

“I want to stay in Gotham as Robin!” Damian growled, glaring at his father, who only shrugged.

“Look, it’s only this or the Teen Titans, and seeing as you already don't agree with them, the only other choice is to go with Alfred’s old master.” Bruce told him monotonously, stating that it was the end of the argument.

Alfred noted neutrally. “I am sure that Master Fu would be delighted to have you, Master Wayne.”

Growling angrily at his defeat in the argument, Damian stormed off into his room, refusing to speak to his father before his flight to Paris.

---

After landing in Paris, Damian realized that no, he didn't dislike the city, he hated it. The city of love and romance- Ironic, seeing as he hated love and romance and had no intention of getting acquainted with anyone at all. Upon getting off the plane, Damian decided that he was going to be worse little shit he could be- He’d be so bad that Alfred’s ‘Master Fu’ would send him home within two weeks. Smirking with his plan in mind, Damian forced a smile, catching a cab to ‘Master Fu’s massage shop.

---

“Damian! You have finally arrived.” Master Fu greeted with a smile. “Your bedroom is upstairs, left to the stairs.” A green ‘fairy’ that Alfred had told him mildly about greeted him cheerily.

“Hello! I’m Wayzz.” The ‘kwami’ as Alfred had called it- Smiled at him. “I’ll show you to your room.”

Damian rolled his eyes, having seen enough of astonishing sights to not even flinch at the sight of the weird-looking turtle.

---

Marinette was angry. So, that blonde boy- Adrien Agreste- Was trying to put gum on her seat?! And he was friends with Chloe? Chloe had friends? Brushing the angry though away, Marinette sighed as she began to stroll home, but not before she saw an old man attempting to cross a four-lane road.

Rushing forward to help him (Because that’s what nice people do) she aided him across the road, smiling as she did so. However, in her kind act, her bag- Which she had left unzipped- Poured out its contents chaotically, making the girl shriek in panic. She apologized swiftly and picked up the spilled contents of her bag, not noticing when he sneaked a little hexagonal box into her bag, watching her as she scurried away.

---

“So, you’re a Kwami, huh?” Damian asked, scoffing at the green turtle.

Wayzz raised an eyebrow at this. “I wonder why Master took you in if he knew you were going to be this rude.”

Damian scoffed, clearly annoyed. “As if I want to be here at all.”

The Kwami harrumphed angrily, fed up with the boy. When the Kwami had flown out of sight, Damian decided that he was going to do some sneaking around before the master returned. Sneaking downstairs, he approached the table in which many Chinese ornaments were displayed. Curious, he inspected each one of them carefully before he came across a small, hexagonal box. Seeing the latch easily opened, Damian picked up the box, opening it.

If he expected something to happen, what happened was definitely not within his expectations. When a red ball of light approached him, his first reaction had been to back away, because how does one react in such a situation?

“Hello! I’m Tikki, and I’m the Kwami of Creation.” The Kwami introduced. “You’re the new holder of the Ladybug miraculous!”

Damian gulped. He did not want that. “I’m sorry, but I opened you by accident. Please go back.”

But no, Tikki refused. “You opened me, and i can sense that you are a Ladybug. I’m not letting you renounce me.”

Damian raised an eyebrow. “I do not want to be a Ladybug.”

Tikki shrugged. “Well, you don’t have a choice.”

“How do I renounce you?” Damian asked, voice cold and steely. “Tell me.”

Tikki sighed. “Fine. Just say ‘Tikki, Spots on’.”

Clearly, Damian wasn’t thinking. Before he knew it, the Kwami had transformed the spotted earrings in the box into a spotted ring- Ad had placed it on him- And the next thing he knew, he was standing in a spotted spandex. Wonderful.

He couldn't believe he’ d been tricked by a small fairy Kwami. He asked for her to come back out, but she didn't, which was very upsetting for the vigilante standing in a spotted spandex that he found absolutely embarrassing. But then the radio sparkled to life.

“Paris has never seen these things before! A stone monster is terrorizing Paris, destroying buildings, and the monster won't be stopped by the police! Who will save us?” The news reported sounded genuinely terrifed.

Sighing, Damian- In a spotted spandex- Decided that, fine, he’d have to save the day in a spotted spandex.

---

“Mama, I’m home!” Marinette calls out cheerily.

“Oh honey, thank god you’re safe. There’s a monster all over the news channel!” Sabine thanked, hugging her daughter.

“I’m fine, mom.” Marinette chuckled, heading up to her room, uncaring of the monster raging outside.

As she set down her bag and unpacked to start on her homework, she couldn't help but notice an unfamiliar hexagonal box in her bag.

“What’s this?” Marinette murmured, opening the box in curiosity.

“I’m Plagg, and I’m your Kwami.” The black thing flew out of the box, speaking in a bored tone. Marinette screeched, dropping the box and backtracking from the creature.

“MOM! THere’s a- A- A FLYING COCKROACH!” She screamed, swatting the thing away. The cat Kwami panicked, shushing her by sealing her lips with his tiny hands.

“SHUSH! SHUSH!” He hissed. “I”m not a cockroach! I’m so much more above those pests.”

Marinette panted, staring at the thing sitting on her nose. “Then what are you?”

“You’d have known if you listened before you started screaming like crazy.” Plagg tsked in annoyance. After explaining everything, including her powers and such, he told her the magic words.

“So, I just say Plagg, claws out?” It came out as more of a question than a command, but that started off the transformation nonetheless.

Oh joy.

---

“The stone monsters are still raging through Paris- That’s right, there’s more that one now. However, there is now hope for the people! A superhero in a spotted suit has shown up, swinging from building to building! Paris has hope, so hang on, people!”

Marinette- Transformed- Listened to the news report downstairs, eyes wide in horror. “Well, I guess I have to go help the superhero?” She sounded unsure of herself, but she unlatched the window, sticking a leg out. Plagg had said that she couldn't let anyone know of her identity, so she’d have to sneak past her parents.

Taking a deep breath, the girl murmured to herself under her breath. “Here’s to nothing.”

---

It wasn't that hard to find him.

He was making a horrible racket, swinging as he attacked the monsters, desperately trying to find the ‘akumatised’ item, as he’d gathered after he returned to Fu’s place to ask Wayzz ‘What the heck, I can’t kill them’.

A black-clad figure had appeared to help him out, and between both of them, they made an even bigger racket. Marinette- Still nameless- Had realized with a jolt that the monster was one of her classmates.

Together, they led the monster into the auditorium, where fewer people would get hurt. Damian had given the black-dressed girl a point for that thought grudgingly.

“His fist!” The girl had yelled, gesturing to the monster. Damian realized that yeah, the monster never unclenched his fist. That must be where the akuma was, he thought. Grudgingly giving the girl another point for cleverness, Damian swooped down with his yoyo thing (He preferred his grappling hook) and tried to open the fist- But failed- And was sent flying across the auditorium. Ouch.

“Maybe- Maybe!” The girl had yelled, letting the monster pick her up without a fight. He had furrowed his eyebrows at her, thinking ‘What a stupid move’, but then he realized what she was trying to do. And gave her one more point.

Eventually, they got a hold of his akuma thingy- With the help of him yelling ‘Lucky Charm’ (He swore he’d never do it again). She’d Cataclymsed it, and he, after some fiddling with that darned yoyo, managed to catch the butterfly.

“You did a good job out there, just now.” He admitted grudgingly.

“You too.” She smiled sweetly at him, being slightly nervous, he noticed, as she fiddled with her baton thing. “Um, you are?”

Shit.

He didn't think of a name! Fumbling with his words, he spluttered out: “Uh, Lordbug.” He said simply, his French rolling smoothly off his tongue.. He wasn’t intending on using the Kwami ever again, so it didn't matter. “And you?” He couldn’t help but ask.

She pondered for a while. Then she smiled. “Kitty Noir.”

@ozmav @maribat-archive

(Leave a message below if you want to be in the tag list. This series is going to be one heck of a long one.)

#damianwayne #marinettedupaincheng #miraculousladybug #lordbug #kittynoir #daminette #maribat #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #au

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crowbarstodd · 5 years

Text

Course Of Nature (1)

Chapter Summary: The kids patrol together for the first time, and hey, nobody ends up dead so I’ll count that as a success! Rating: G Word Count: 1,737 Pairing: Daminette

Parts: Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four

Patrolling with Robin was akin to pulling out teeth. Until this evening, Marinette wasn’t sure she could be so irritated by someone who wasn’t Lila; even Chloe had never made her head reel or her face flush in sheer outrage as much as Robin.

So far in their patrol, he’d gone off on his own a total of four times, all without telling her where he was going, made a Carpace -- kind and for the most part relaxed, Nino -- stressed enough to retire early for the night because of his attitude, and had insulted her so many times she stopped keeping count.

She was sick of it -- sick of him. He didn’t work well with others in the slightest, was arrogant and clearly had no respect for her as a hero.

But she was Ladybug, and Master Fu asked her to work with him, so for the time being, she’d suck it up and deal with the devil.

“You can step out of the shadows,” Marinette said in Robin’s general direction. She was jogging lightly, keeping her eyes firmly on the streets to check for danger. Paris sparkled at night, the ever-present glow both comforting and helpful, allowing her almost perfect vision when the sunset.

There was a faint tutting sound before Robin emerged from the darkness, scowl on his face. “It’ll be more effective if we have the element of surprise.” She wondered why he never smiled, especially when his fellow team member, Nightwing was a bag of laughs, at least according to Chat Noir.

Then again, Robin did work under Batman, and he seemed to communicate mostly through grunts… Did Robin even know how to smile at all?

“There’s nobody to surprise. Crime rates have been statistically proven to lower when heroes are in sight, and it’s good for public reception if we patrol out in the open.”

The biggest problem between herself and Robin, Marinette had come to realise; was that they were too different in their ways of being heroes.. While Robin valued mystery and darkness, Marinette understood the importance of visibility, accepting the responsibility that came with being more than just a symbol. The weight of being an idol on an impossibly high platform, constantly teetering over the edges, a second away from slipping.

Robin believed that symbols were meant to stay as symbols. The less others knew, the more they wondered, the better. She could see the worth in his reasoning, but he was in Paris, not Gotham, and he needed to act like it.

Robin said nothing, simply releasing a grunt. The tips of his ears were red, illuminated by street lamps, and when he sped up so he was running ahead of her, he realised belatedly, that he might have been embarrassed by her easy correction. “Keep up!” He snapped.

He hadn’t bothered to turn around and check on her, if she’d slowed down because she was injured or distracted by something relevant he wouldn’t know until it was too late. He hardly looked at her at all the whole patrol. Briefly, she considered simply ditching him and running another direction, leaving him to patrol on his own.

A nudge at the back of her head, no doubt Tiki’s presence, warned her against that particular idea.

Instead of screaming or leaving like she wanted, Marinette resorted to rolling rolled her eyes. “It’s not a race, Robin.”

“Tt. You only say that because you’re losing.”

“Really now?”

Without warning, Marinette increased her pace, speeding past Robin and sailing over buildings with the agility and litheness granted to her by her miraculous. From behind her, she heard Robin release a swear as he tried to catch her. “Race you to the Eiffel tower!” She called, enjoying the way the wind whipped her hair back and whistled at her ears.

Sometimes, she had trouble believing that her identity hadn’t yet been discovered, especially when her lies were flimsy at best, and her disappearances all too convenient. But then, she would twirl effortlessly past hanging light features, and remember that her civilian self was an unusually clumsy mess, and she understood why nobody ever suspected her.

She raced Robin wordlessly; leaping from rooftop to rooftop, swinging over stray branches and ducking under street lamps. He was fast, she could admit, swift-footed, with a certain grace that came with years of practice, and just a dash of natural talent about his movements that most dancers would envy.

Marinette had none of that, but she could still admit her advantage. The miraculous was magic in that it hardly sapped at her energy — one of the many reasons why she was able to catch akuma’s and return to class a minute later without passing out when chemistry got too dry. It was easy to sprint at full speed when she knew she wouldn’t feel tired until she made it to the other side of the city.

She also knew Paris better, cutting through Alley’s, and knowing when to pass under instead of over. Robin seemed to realise this too, following closely after her, taking into account her short-cuts and easy-ways.

In the end, it came as a surprise to no-one, when she beat him to the Eiffel Tower.

She sat, legs dangling over the edge, waiting with a tongue out (she’s a very responsible and mature hero, really!) as her fellow hero landed beside her barely five seconds after.

“That was not an event test,” Robin said bitterly.

She had fully expected his comment, but found herself too surprised to come up with any witty retorts when he settled beside her. Sure, he was sitting at least three feet apart, but it was the warmest he’d been the whole night, so she’d take it.

Marinette held firmly onto the belief that there was goodness in everyone, and regardless of how demonic Robin was, she knew that even for someone like him, the rule stood.

So she did what she did best — what she was known to do as both Ladybug and Marinette. She held out an olive branch.

“True,” she admitted freely, relishing in the momentary surprise that painted his face, before his features quickly melted back into the same stoic expression he’d maintained the whole night. “But you never said there were rules…”

“Tt.” Robin’s eyes were blocked by the whites of his domino mask, but she could tell from the minute easing of his brows, and the way his jaw shifted, as if unclenching, that he found some amusement in her response.

Marinette was hardly the world’s leading expert in reading facial expressions, but well, Robin had an admittedly nice face (not nice enough to negate is asshole personality, just nice enough for her to be grateful he was an asshole. She was jelly around Adrien back when she used to like him, she did not intend to become distracted mush around her new partner just because he was nice and good looking. Luckily for her, he was only one of the two), and it seriously wasn’t her fault that lack of actual eyes to keep contact with as they spoke lead to her studying his features pretty often.

“I suppose you might have a point,” Robin relented. Marinate cheered internally. She knew he wasn’t completely heartless! “A rare occasion, it seems.” Okay, scratch that last thought.

Still, olive branches and second chances were her signature. “Well, special occasions need celebrating. Ice-Cream?”

Robin lifted his nose to the sky, sniffing a bit the same way he did when they first met. Wow, he looked like a total brat when he did that. “I don’t care for sweets.”

“That’s not a no,” she weaseled.

His chin tilted downward, just a tad, and he held his gaze on her face for just a second too long. “Hm,” he said at last.

“Great!” Marinate exclaimed, grabbing his wrist and tugging at it so he’d follow her. She let it go almost immediately, feeling a little stupid she’d done so in the first place — too used to the comforting and close partnership Chat offered — and promptly stepped off the tower, catching herself with her yoyo, and swinging herself to the next building.

She heard a clang, somewhere to her right, and watched as Robin followed after her, grapple hook presumably pulled out of the yellow utility belt around his waist.

Andrè was still awake, his little moving shop officially closing at twelve, knowing young couples often enjoyed their late-night rendezvouses. He smiled at her with familiar warmth, and gave them ice cream, predictably free (Andrè was well-liked amongst miraculous users for his free ice-cream, he was nice to Parisian heroes like that), though he did give them just a bowl to share rather than the usual two seperate cones. From the knowing wink he gave them, she figured he’d simply come to the wrong conclusion and accepted it.

Andrè’s ice-cream was divine. Today, he gifted herself and Robin a double-scoop of dark chocolate and red velvet, a simple gift compared to what he usually came up with, but Marinette was grateful nonetheless.

“Your uniform is too obnoxious,” Robin said over the bowl. He had taken the first bite once she’d settled it between them on the police-station roof, and hadn’t complained or made his little tutting sound, so she guessed that he was at least somewhat enjoying it.

She raised a brow at him, not quite in the mood to raise her hackles and start another fight between them. Well, he’d be starting the fight, really he always started the fights! And now he was saying her uniform was obnoxious? “My uniform is obnoxious?”

“Yes.”

“Robin you look like a walking traffic light.”

Robin’s head turned the other direction, clearly miffed at her insult. “The colours are part of the legacy,” he muttered, “have some respect. Most of the brightness is blocked by my cowl anyway.”

“Ladybug is a legacy too, bird-brain. The Ladybug is a symbol, it’s important that people see me.”

“The spots are gaudy nnngghhh!” He glared at her with crossed arms, spitting out the spoon she’d shoved in his mouth in a fashion that was rather dramatic.

“Better get used to them,” Marinette snarked, smirking at the sight of him with slightly puffed cheeks, furiously chewing at a mouthful of dark chocolate and red velvet. He was almost cute when he was quiet.

End Notes: whew first patrol?? And hey my kids don’t completely hate each other! They just really don’t want to be there lol. Look forward to the upcoming chapters where y’all will see more of supportive best friend Chat, and Marinette meeting Dami!

Taglist: @just-rant-and-write-fic-idea @kceedraws @mystery-5-5 @2sunchild2 @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @treebrosha @mooshoon

Feel free to ask me to add or remove you via dms, asks, or comments <3

ALSO if anyone here reads “Filtered Lens” that’ll be updated tomorrow, I’m just trying to decide smth rn :))

#daminette #maribat #crowbar writes #maridami #robinette #miraculous ladybug #ml #mlb #ml fic #mlb fic #ml au #mlb au #miraculous ladybug x dc #miraculous ladybug x batman #marinette dupain cheng #collab: ladybugout au #fic #course of nature

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danielslilangel · 5 years

Text

Make Love Not War- Daminette (Pt. Three)

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

(Thanks everyone for all the love! Daminette is my new favorite ship and I’m obsessed with all of the amazing Maribat content out there now!)

“Begin!”

Neither one moved at first, trying to guess what the other was going to do. Unsure, though the whole thing had been her idea to begin with, Marinette took a slow step to the left. Damian mirrored the movement and they slowly chased each other around the perimeter of the circle.

“Hey!” Jason yelled, drawing the attention of the two heroes even though neither of them turned to look in his direction. “Is this a fight or what? I’ve got good money on the line so let’s get this show on the road!”

Damian rolled his eyes at his brother’s words, but noticed a shift in the energy between him and Marinette as they came to a stop across.

The two of them launched themselves forward, movements blurring with the speed at which they attempted to attack each other. They quickly became a tangled mess as feet, knees, elbows and fists found their marks.

Damian charged forward with a soft growl that grew louder in frustration as Marinette jumped in the air, using his shoulders as a spring board, leaping over him. As soon as her feet sunk into the mat she raised one leg back to donkey kick Damian away as he moved towards her once again. He grabbed her from behind only to let go when she unexpectedly sunk her teeth into his forearm. He was proud of her for not being afraid of fighting dirty. As soon as he released her, Marinette spun and launched a series of kicks towards his midsection that Damian struggled to block with his arms. One kick caught him in the hip. Instead of moving out of the way, he stepped into the blow and caught her foot in his hand.

Without hesitation Marinette put all her weight on the foot he held and used his hand as a step and lifted herself up into the air over him. She hooked her thighs around his neck and used her momentum to toss him to the ground, pausing for a second to appreciate the shocked look on his face before he rolled to absorb some of the impact. "Oh shit,“ Jason whispered. “Is it too late to change my bet to Marinette? Cause she looks a lot less like sunshine and rainbows and more like… I don’t even know what… She’s just… different all the sudden.” "I’m still betting my money on Damian,“ Dick said, having seen what the Demon Spawn was capable of against his enemies. "At least they’re no longer holding back. It’s pretty interesting to see a competition bring out this side in them.” "They are actually pretty evenly matched considering neither one of them have managed to land a devastating blow.“ Tim watched as the pair danced around each other inside the circle, perfectly countering the other’s attacks. Marinette was proving to be much more capable than the Ladyblog videos had let on. No matter who won this round he had a feeling that Ladybug was going to be making quite a few more appearances throughout the city. "I don’t even think they’ve drawn blood.” The Wayne boys resumed their silence as Marinette and Damian’s groans and panting filled the room, the pair now drenched in sweat from their efforts to prove that they deserved to win. I underestimated her, Damian thought as he dodged yet another kick that barely missed connecting with his jaw. That one would have broken it. He grabbed her next flying fist after jerking his head out of its path and used her locked arm to flip her over his head, taking her to the ground. As he moved his hands to better hold her down, Marinette slid out from under him and pushed herself back into a standing position. I’m not used to drawn out battles, she thought as she feigned left and managed to connect a heel to his calf though he danced out of the way to avoid much of the blow. He gains the advantage the longer this fight lasts. With no lucky charm to help her this time, Marinette had to rely on herself more than ever to try and win. She decided to risk it and stepped closer to him, trying her hand at landing more hit with close combat. He had more formal training than she did, but she was smaller and faster than him. Their similarities and differences just kept balancing out as neither one managed to get a solid punch to the other. "How long has it been?“ Dick asked, not taking his eyes off the two dark haired blurs going at it in front of him. Tim glanced at his watch. Eyes wide, he announced, "seventy-three minutes.” Usually the boys’ sparring never lasted more than half an hour at most before someone was injured or pinned. Damian tried to keep his focus solely on the fight, but he couldn’t help the voice in the back of his mind that would not stop gushing praise for his girlfriend’s level of skill. He claimed it was logic that told him she’d be safer if she avoided getting into any battles while they were out on patrol but with each kick of his she blocked and punch of hers she landed upon his body, Damian knew that he had been blinded by love. He was nearly out of breath, something that hadn’t happened in quite a while, and knew that she was getting tired too, but she still kept going. He was giving their fight everything he had and it was just enough to keep her from overpowering her. Though he acknowledged her ability to hold her own, the need to win was preventing him from stopping. Suddenly, Marinette tripped, and that small mistake was enough of an opening for Damian to leap at her, sending the pair sprawling onto the ground. She bucked as he tried to pin her and tangled her legs in his, using her thighs to flip him over so that he was now laying with his back on the mat as she straddled his waist. She had the chance to take a shot at him that could have led to her victory, but paused just a second too long to follow through with it. She couldn’t help but stare at her boyfriend who lay beneath her, white t-shirt sticking to his wet body like a second skin from all of the sweating he was doing. His muscles were taut from the fight and she was too easily distracted by a heat overcoming her that was not brought on from the batter. A heat that only intensified as she lifted her gaze to his eyes. Not wanting to let an easy opening pass him by, Damian used his abs and the counter pressure of her sitting on his lower half to sit up and wrapped his fingers around Marinette’s pale wrists that had, for some reason, been laying at her sides. He brought their arms up above their heads, meaning to use that motion to push her into the mat and claim his victory, but he found himself once again caught in her blue gaze as she looked up and stared at him. Marinette let out a small whimper as his fingers locked around her wrists and caught her bottom lip between her teeth. All at once, Damian became very aware of the fact that his opponent, who just so happens to be his girlfriend, was sitting on his lap in just her leggings and a sports bra covered in sweat from rolling around on the floor with him for the past however long it had been since their last match had begun. Marinette. His very brave, very strong, very attractive girlfriend… Was straddling him… biting her lip… As he held her wrists above her head… Looking at him with a look he hadn’t yet seen from her. Marinette released some of the tension in her legs from holding her position as Damian froze after sitting up. She managed to hold back another whimper as Damian closed his eyes and let out a low moan, his body treacherously responding to the sudden pressure he felt as she shifted, lowering herself more into his body, brushing his… His eyes snapped open, once more locking eyes with hers as he released her wrists in favor of grabbing her bare waist so he could stand up while still holding her pressed up against his body. The sudden movement made Marinette gasp and she reflexively wrapped her legs around him, crossing her ankles to hold on tight as her arms fell around his neck once freed from his grasp. That was all it took for Damian to growl and bury his face into her neck, covering it with feverish kisses, enjoying the taste of her salty skin, as he made his way out of the gym. Forgetting all about his brothers and the match, he made his way down the hallway and enterer his bedroom after fumbling with the doorknob with one hand, not willing to let go of Marinette more than he absolutely had to to get them alone. Entering the room, he lifted his leg back to kick the door closed but found that Marinette had already nudged it shut with her own feet so he decided to turn the pair of them around to lock the door. He moved a little too fast though and found himself pushing Marinette’s back against the door, causing the girl to open her lips in a breathless gasp that threatened to tear him to pieces. He needed to hear that sound again more than he needed air to breathe. He leaned closer and caught her lips with his own, flicking his tongue to get them to part them again. "Damian.“ She couldn’t stop his name from sliding past their tongues into his open mouth anymore than she could stop the small moans and gasps from coming. Her voice must have snapped him back to reality though as he pulled his face away to look her in the eyes. "Tell me if it’s too much for you. I don’t want to make you do anything you’re not comfortable with.” His eyes were addled with lust and she knew that the last thing he wanted was to stop as they hardly ever had anytime to themselves and had yet to be able to move beyond making out, but he would absolutely stop if that’s what she told him to do. “I want you to want this. To be ready.” "Damian…“ She couldn’t find the right words to say so she decided to lean in for another kiss, but Damian pulled back.

“I need you to use your words Angel. I want to be sure this isn’t just something that is happening from the adrenaline.”

She tangled her fingers in his dark hair and gently tugged on it. “I want this. I want you Damian. I’ve never wanted anything so much before.” She bit her lip as heat crept up her cheeks from her blatant words but pushed through the mild embarrassment and kept going. “We may have gotten caught up in the moment out there, but that doesn’t change that fact that I’ve wanted to get you alone like this for a while and now that we are here… I don’t want to stop.”

“Angel.” Damian buried his face in her neck once again and smiled as he kissed her over and over and over again. Since he had taken a second and forced himself to pause and take a deep breath, he wanted to do this right.

“But…”

He instantly pulled back to peer at her.

“I don’t… know or really care- well I do care, but not a lot like to the point of…” she trailed off before starting again. “It’s just that… I’ve never… done this, uhm, kind of thing before.”

He didn’t mean to, but he laughed, the sound warm and deep. He removed Marinette’s legs from around his waist and set her down on the ground. He slid a hand up into her hair, removing the tie so that the blue-black strands fell loose around her face. She peered up through her dark lashes at him and he smiled at her confusion. “I don’t know what you’ve been led to believe during our time together Angel, but I’m not exactly a people person. I went on a few dates here and there before I met you, but I’d never been in a relationship until you came into my life. I never expected you to be…” he tried to think of the right word to say. “Experienced. I’m still glad to hear it though because I want to be your first… your only, Marinette.”

In a quiet voice she squeaked out, “Does that mean I’m your first?”

He chuckled again and moved so that their lips were almost touching, relaxing as he breathed in her air. “Yes Angel. You’re my first and I hope you’ll be my last.” Damian stayed where he was, letting her make the choice for herself.

She didn’t hesitate. Marinette threw herself against his body, crashing their lips together.

As they made their way to his king-sized bed the pair, once again, became a tangled mess of limbs as their clothes disappeared like magic and they found a way to heal every aching muscle left over from their fight.

Basking in the warmth of their love, Damian rubbed slow circles on Marinette’s bare back as she lay contentedly draped across his chest wrapped in his covers.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

“I wasn’t talking about just now.”

“I know.” She lifted her head to rest her chin on his chest so she could look him in the eyes. “I get that you were just worried about me and wanted to protect me.”

“It was still wrong of me though. I know you’re capable of holding your own… especially after seeing how you managed to keep up with me.”

“I did more than keep up,” she laughed.

“True. I do have quite a few sore spots on my body.”

He arched an eyebrow as Marinette gave him another one of her wicked little smiles.

“You know how Ladybug has the Miraculous Cure? Well, I have that power too.”

“Oh really?” He liked where this was headed.

“Absolutely.” Her voice was barely a whisper as she disappeared under the blankets.

Damian definitely liked where this headed.

TAG LIST I hope you enjoyed the surprising (hopefully) ending! :)

@zazzlejazzle @jessigurl-design @xxmadamjinxx @imfreakingmagical @constancetruggle @shizukiryuu @segajr @mystery-5-5 @black-streak @heldtogetherbysafetypins @eliza-bich @2sunchild2 @northernbluetongue @dont-touch-my-dinosaur @vgirl-10123 @mochinek0 @unabashedbookworm @queencommonsense @crazylittlemunchkin @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @tbehartoo

#daminete #maribat #maridami #damimari #marinette dupein cheng #miraculous ladybug #my writing

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ranger-jedi-knight · 5 years

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So, Tumblr and AO3 got me hooked on this ship, Daminette(MarinetteXDamian). So I just had to write for it! This is my third work, but the first one posted to Tumblr. Thanks Daminette Discord server!! <3<3<3<3 Summary: Damian's birthday is coming up and Marinette knows just what to get for it. She just hopes he'll love it.

#miraculous ladybug #batman #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #damin wayne #daminette #Damian wayne x Marinette dupin-cheng #birthday #writing #my writing #fic #batfam

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amberwild420 · 4 years

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one step back, two steps forward (pt. 1.5)

Masterlist

In the first chapter the seat next to Marinette is empty and she is sitting in the back. on the bench beside her Chloe is siting alone.

And yes, no Sabrina.

So the seating arrangement is like this.

Lila Adrian rose Juleka

Alya Niño Mylene Ivan

Nathanial Alex Sabrina Kim max

Chloe Marinette

In part one, Marinette accidently learnt that Adrian is chat noir. thus her crush is completely gone.

Chloe is milder with her bossy attitude, she stays quite and gets her work done. it’s been a while since she had bullied anyone.

daminette ship will take a while before it appears and we will see some character development.

#one step back #maribat #Marinette needs a hug #daminette later #class salt #ml salt #original character #daminette got me hooked #don't question my sanity

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batsandbugs · 4 years

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A Kiss With a Fist

AN: Hey everyone another fic coming at you! This is for the Maribat Drabble Exchange hosted by @eat0crow I’m so excited to be participating! My fic was for @pixiebuggiewrites who wanted a Daminette soulmate fic. Sorry I couldn’t squeeze anybody else in here it was already getting pretty long! I hope you all enjoy! You can also read it here on ao3! (Pictures are NOT mine)

Damian stormed away from the hotel, aggressively zipping his coat. He didn’t care where he was going, only that it was away from here.

He didn’t want to be in Paris. He didn’t want to watch out for incompetent amateurs. He didn’t want to ‘control your anger, Damian’. He wanted to be sent home.

The calm night taunted him, the Parisian streets were too bight and too clean, resembling nothing like his dark city. He missed patrolling, he missed his animals, hell, a part of him (a small, barely negligible part he would never admit to) even missed his siblings. But no, he was stuck here, under his father’s orders until the situation in Paris drew to a conclusion.

Considering it took five years for outside help to be even called in, he had no clue how long the mission would last. He still hadn’t met the so-called-heroes of Paris, but the research he conducted showed they were ill-trained, undisciplined, and relying on so much luck it was a fucking miracle their city wasn’t a smoking ruin by now.

He sighed, sticking his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. He regretted not grabbing his gloves in his storm out. He’d been so irritated at his father that even though the man was on the other side of a screen, half-way across an ocean, Damian needed to physically leave to calm his anger. It left him little time to grab essentials for a chilly winter night like a hat, or gloves. He considered himself lucky for remembering to grab a coat at all.

He wandered for a solid hour, the cold sinking into his bones chilling the raging inferno that always seemed to bubble inside him. By the time he no longer wanted to scream at anyone, he was sufficiently lost, considering he hadn’t taken his phone with him either.

Coming to rest on a bridge he took a seat on a small bench. He puffed a warm breath of air into his chilly hands rubbing them together. Nighttime in Paris was so… different compared to Gotham. While big cities never truly slept, this was positively peaceful in comparison to what he was used to. He hadn’t even heard a single sound of ruckus or distress, which seemed strange considering the city was currently besieged by a magical butterfly terrorist.

Damian inwardly scoffed. Butterfly terrorist. True, being a Gothamite meant no room to judge, but he found it hard to think of a stranger string of words.

He sighed; Damian didn’t even know what his father wanted him to do here. Sure, he knew French and was a proficient fighter, but what could that even lend to the situation? They needed a detective, and, as much as he hated to admit it, Drake would have been the better option in that department. Unfortunately, he was off-world. Grayson was dealing with a problem in Hong Kong with Cass. Brown was paired with the rest of the Sirens taking care of Gotham along with Batman, and Todd…

Well, even he recognized what an awful choice Todd would be against a villain who literally used strong negative emotions as his weapon of choice. Damian had a temper; Todd was a ticking-time-bomb.

A high-pitched screech cut through the night air, before being noticeably muffled. Damian was on his feet and running before he even mentally acknowledged it. The thud of his boots on the cobblestone bridge sent small shocks through his legs. Another large clatter directed him off to a side street a couple of feet away. Three men had cornered a tiny slip of a woman, who held her purse like a weapon.

Damian saw red. “Hey, why don’t you pick on someone your own size,” he yelled in French. There was one benefit to being in a foreign city, Damian did not have to play the part of a clueless rich kid who couldn’t hold his own in a fight.

The brutes turned to him and grinned mean smiles. One guy stepped forward. “Come on man, we’re just having a little fun. You can join if you-” Damian cut off the disgusting words with a jab to the nose. Then he spun around, sweeping the second guy’s feet from underneath him, hitting him with a punch to the face to knock him out cold. The first guy hadn’t lost consciousness, but he was doubled over which allowed Damian to knee him in the stomach. Another punch to the face and he was out cold too.

He turned to finish off the last guy, only to see the woman roundhouse kicking him to the head. The burly man fell with a thud. The alley turned eerily silent, the only sounds coming from the sharp breaths of both Damian and the girl. His pulse fluttered fast; the heat of the battle warmed his chilled limbs.

A red purse laid on the ground near his feet. Picking it up he walked over to the small woman, no teen she looked about his age, who was still sharply breathing.

“Here, this is-” a blur is all he saw before a sharp pain spread across his nose.

Did she-

Did she just punch him in the face?

The shock of it sent him sprawling onto the ground, and he blinked away the tears forming in his eyes. Damian cradled his throbbing nose, anger bubbled once more under his skin before-

*Zing*

The connection hit him like a train. A deep well of rightness spreading through him. He looked up through bleary eyes to find the woman staring at him in similar shock.

“You’re my soulmate,” they sputtered at each other.

Damian inwardly groaned. The League made initiates kill their soulmate should they ever find them to prove their loyalty. He grew up never wanting to find his soulmate, knowing they would serve as nothing but a distraction and weakness. Even when he joined his father, the idea seemed an unneeded liability. Sure, his brothers found their soulmates within the superhero community, but what were the chances he would too?

A small whimper escaped the mouth of the guy lying unconscious on the ground, knocked out by the woman the universe thought would be the perfect match for him. Damian tilted his head. She might not be a superhero, but maybe the universe knew him better than he first imagined.

“OhmygoshIamsosorry!” the flood of words spilled from his soulmate’s mouth, her face a deep shade of red. “I was just-”

“Acting on instinct and adrenaline? Appropriate, considering the threat you just faced,” he said without anger. “Your right hook is sufficiently adequate.”

“Um… thanks? Are you alright though?” She extended a hand to help him off the ground. He took it, his larger hand enveloped hers, but she showed a surprising amount of strength as she pulled him up. The contact sent another *zing* through his body, smaller and more subdued though. Damian found himself reluctant to let go.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” He suffered worse in training before. With the initial pain dissipated, all that was left was a dull throbbing that would be gone by morning. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” she said with a bright smile. He took the chance to finally observe his soulmate. She was small, couldn’t be more than 5’2, which meant at 6’1 he towered over her. She was of mixed descent, with dark hair spilling over her shoulders, and bright blue eyes. Her arms and legs were toned with muscle, and she held herself with grace and confidence. She wore a face of tasteful makeup and was clothed in a short red dress and a pair of strappy heels with no jacket in sight. He had no clue how she wasn’t freezing to death.

Her smile dimmed a bit. “Actually, no, I’ve had better days. Today has kinda been a perfect disaster; first I’m late for school, then I forgot my homework, and my class bully decided it was a pick-on-Marinette day. There’s a three-hour Akuma fight, involving mind-control, which is always a total drag. I finally get home to find my parents worried sick about me because I hadn’t answered my phone which got destroyed at the beginning of the fight. I go to my class’s senior Valentine’s day dance hoping to finally confess to the guy I’ve had a crush on for years, only to get humiliated because he already has a girlfriend, and everyone else in my class knew and decided not to tell me. When I get away not to cause a scene, not only do I forget my jacket, but I also get attacked by three bumbling idiots with more mouths than brains.” She chuckled, hollow and verging on manic.

Damian stood there, unsure how to take all of that. He filed away the fact she was being bullied, and that she commonly dealt with Akuma attacks. Both equally important, as far as he was concerned.

“Now, here I am, standing in front of my gorgeous soulmate I punched in the face, after beating up said earlier idiots, rambling my mouth off because I don’t know the meaning of the word chill. Yep! I’ve certainly had better days. Ohmygoshimatotalmesskillmenow.” She muttered the last part into her hands, but Damian understood her all the same.

He would come back to the gorgeous thing later.

“…Do you want my jacket? You look cold.” It wasn’t the smoothest thing he could have said, nor the most appropriate considering the mess of a day she’d had. However, the manners Alfred drilled into his brain came knocking and if he was cold with a turtle-neck long-sleeved shirt and a jacket, she must be freezing in all that… nothingness. He averted his eyes from her exposed skin, looking at her face instead.

His soulmate looked at him for a long moment, before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

“You know what, yeah, a jacket would be nice,” she said in a tired voice. Damian shed his coat quickly, not minding the sharp sting of cold that hit him. He helped his soulmate into the sleeves and took an odd little pleasure in seeing how tiny she looked in the folds of his jacket.

“I’m Marinette, by the way, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” She wrapped the jacket closer cuddling into the heat. “Sorry for kinda freaking out on you there.”

“The kind of day you’ve had has surely broken lesser mortals. Any coping method is your due. I’m Damian, Damian Wayne. It’s a pleasure to meet you Marinette.” He smiles, although the gesture feels odd, trying to appear non-threatening. While his soulmate (and maybe he was coming around to this faster than he thought possible) was obviously skilled at dealing with a variety of stressors, he didn’t want to add any more and risk her being akumatized.

“You as well Damian.” She shivered despite the added protection of his coat, as a gust of wind swept through the alleyway. “As much fun as this conversation has been, it might be best for us to get out of the cold.”

“Indeed. What will we do with these inconveniences?” he asked, poking one of the guys with the tip of his boot.

She sighed, picking her purse from the ground where he’d dropped it. “We’ll call the police to come pick them up. They’ll be cold, but fine.”

Damian scowled, “It’s better than they deserve.” He sneered at the guy who offered for Damian to join them. Join them in assaulting this tiny, bright girl, who’d been through enough. His soulmate. The bubbling rage began anew, and he wished he’d done more than just knock them unconscious, they deserved far worse for thinking, daring, to touch-

A small hand rested on his arm, dragging him out of his violent thoughts. “I’m fine Damian. Even if you hadn’t arrived, I would have been fine. I can hold my own in a fight. This is Paris after all.”

“Tt,” Damian scoffed. “Fine. We’ll leave them to their fates.” And if their fates happened to involve complete ruination of their online lives, credit scores, and secure information? Well, that was hardly his fault, now was it?

“There’s a good café opened late around the corner. Would you- would you like to go there?” Marinette asked.

Damian smiled at the tentative offer. “I would very much enjoy that, yes. I’ve been out for longer than I should, coffee would be great right about now.” She giggled and he felt his stomach flutter. Funny, giggling always annoyed him, but that bright clear sound... he could grow used to that.

Walking out of the dark alley, listening to Marinette talk to the police on her phone, Damian sighed. The streets no longer felt too clean, or the lights too bright. Yes, he was colder, and yes this was a complication, but for some reason, Damian could not bring himself to care.

Maybe Paris wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#fanfiction #damian x marinette #daminette #damianette #maribat writing exchange #maribat #marinette dupain Cheng x Damian wayne #maridami #damimari #marinette x damian

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smittenkittenfics · 4 years

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I’m baaaaack

Hello

So... it’s been a while, it’s not like I’ve stopped reading fanfics, at all, I just changed my focus for a while. I went deep into the Harry Potter fandom and just now tried my luck back in the Batfam fanfics, buuuuut the Damian and Tim tags on AO3 were filled with Ladybug fanfics, I started reading them and some are really good, I don’t even watch Ladybug but the fanfics got me hooked and for some reason I’m starting to ship Daminette.

After all that, I decided to comeback to this and start posting every fanfic that I really liked reading, no matter the fandom it belongs to, so I’ll go back on my AO3 history to do that.

XOXO, Gossip Girl, okay no lol

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nxrthmizu · 5 years

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-Lordbug, Robin and Kitty Noir- Chapter Three: In Which Damian Falls Off A Building

/Part One//Part Two//Part Three//Part Four//Part Five//Part Six//Part Seven//Part Eight//Part Nine//Part Ten//Part Eleven/

Description: FLUFF MORE FLUFF FLUFF ALL THE WAY LIKE IT’S CHRISTMAS (OOh maybe I’ll do a special Christmas chapter on Christmas week of DAMINETTE CHRISTMAS FLUFF YEA SOMEONE NEEDS TO DO THAT) also Damian falls off a building.

Warnings: A little curses I guess, same as before

---

Robin didn’t know where he was going but the final destination was totally not intended to be Dupain-Cheng’s balcony. He got... Lost. Admitting he was lost was better than to admit that he’d somehow strayed onto a girl’s balcony.

“R- Um, who are you?” He nearly screeched, and the Robin does not screech. But when he turned around, he came face to face with the same black-clad girl who he’d fought with (As Lordbug) when the first akuma came around.

“I’m Robin.” He had to remind himself not to tell her off for remembering his name. Afterall, it was her first time meeting him as Robin.

“Oh. Hi, Robin, I’m Kitty Noir.” She smiled, and Damian couldn’t help but feel that the words were a little familiar. “So, you’re a superhero?”

“Yeah.” Damian scoffed. Wasn’t it obvious?

“Then...” She blushed, as if embarassed. “Could you teach me the ropes? I was only recently, um, pushed into this... Superhero business. Could you... Teach me?”

Apparently, little angel wasn’t the only person Damian couldn’t say no to.

---

“Be careful.” He warned as she prepared to leap off a building. Probably not what you encourage people to do, but hey. That was Damian. And he was teaching his... Superhero... Partner? Friend? Neighbor? how to successfully tap into her instincts. And if it wasn’t successful... Well, he hadn’t thought that far. Yet. He would think of it when the time came. If the time came.

She nodded, taking a deep breath. Damian felt his chest constrict, as if he was worried. Scoffing to himself, he shook his head to clear out his mind. Why was he worried, anyway? She was the one who wanted to try it. He wasn’t responsible.

“Here I go.” She breathed, extending her baton before she leaped off. Damian sucked in a breath. Was she alright-

“Woo!” She swung right back up, triumphant. Landing a little clumsily on the next building, she sent Damian a bright grin. “I did it! Did you see?”

Rolling his eyes and letting go of a breath he was for some reason holding, he nodded. “Yeah, I saw it. It wasn’t bad for a beginner like you.” He had intended the remark to be cutting, but the girl only beamed at him.

“Thanks so much, Robin.”

And for some reason, Tikki was giggling again. It was honestly annoying to have a tiny spotted fairy constantly giggling at your ear. What was she giggling about this time?

---

“That was great!” He was breathless. This girl that probably just started superhero work- Was amazing. She had managed to achieve everything he’d shown her so far.

Kitty Noir blushed, feeling her cheeks flush on the autumn air. “Thanks to you, birdy.”

He frowned at the nickname, but if he liked it, he didn’t show it. As they were heading back (To no apparent destination) Kitty Noir- Marinette- Couldn’t help but stare, because damn. That was one fine ass.

Robin stopped abrubtly, but not before he was knocked off balance by the girl who failed to stop behind him. This ended up with him on the rooftop, pinned down.

It was really awkward, and he could hear Tikki giggling again.

“Um, I- I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you stop, I um, sorry so I- No wait! I’m sorry so- I’m so- So I’m- I’m sORRY!” She didn’t see him stop- She was really too busy staring at his ass. It was one fine ass.

“Uh. It’s fine. Can you get up, please?” His voice was constricted and awkward and he couldn’t wait to get home. She nodded clumsily, getting off him- Before slipping.

“Kitty!” He called out, watching her squeal as she desperately tried to find something to cling onto before nearing the edge of the rooftop, onto a five-floor-drop. His blood ran cold.

Shooting off the grappling hook, he jumped, catching her by her waist right before she fell over the edge. “I’ve got you.” He told her, his breath panting. He looked around, trying to find a way so that they could land properly, but his left hand was already starting to ache by supporting her, and his right was holding onto his grappling hook. There was no way he’d be able to get a safe landing for the both of them.

He unlatched the grappling hook, holding her to his chest as they plummeted towards the ground. Flipping her upwards so he’d absorb the impact, he groaned, making contact to the ground. Yep, at least two broken ribs and a dislocated arm. At least he was still alive. That was a bright side.

---

“I uh... Fell off the... Stairs?” Explaining himself to little angel was a little difficult. Marinette looked at him with extreme worry. Well, he wasn’t that good of a sight. Apparently, he’d bruised half of his face when he fell, too.

“R-Right. I know you’re lying, you know.” She crossed her arms. Of course she knew what really happened to Robin. She was the one that caused him such injuries. After they got up, he’d checked that she was fine- (Even when he was the one that took the fall!) and said that he’d go find his... Friend, Marinette. Kitty Noir had panicked, of course, and made up a crappy excuse to rush home. Robin, who was probably too injured to protest, watched her go before he shot off his grappling hook, getting to little angel’s place. “Sit down, I’ll get you some hot chocolate and some bandages.”

Robin nodded thankfully. He wasn’t sure how Fu would’ve dealt with him getting home with broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder- And he was quite sure he didn’t want to find out, as he suspected that the man was still angry at him.

“Damian!” Tikki immediately fussed over him the moment Marinette was out of hearing. “Oh god, you’re so injured!” She squealed. Robin hissed at her.

“Don’t use my name. Not here.” He told her sternly, but it seemed as if the Kwami had gotten completely used to him using harsh tones on her, and only proceeded to worry over him.

“Let me help.” Tikki murmured, using her tiny flap-like hands to create a small glowing ball, pressing it into Damian’s chest. Immediately, he felt his ribs piece themselves back together, and his back’s soreness- Well, it got slightly better.

When they heard Marinette coming up the stairs, though, Tikki quickly hid back inside his hood.

“I got you some chocolate.” She smiled, handing him the cup. “It’s hot though, so be careful.” She begin to set down some of the other things she had brought- Bandages, disinfectant- The usual things that Alfred would have once the Bats returned from a hectic day of patrol. She dabbed gently at his wounds as he sipped on the hot chocolate, feeling the warm liquid dribble down his throat, providing more aid to soothing his extremely sore back that he’d fell on. Honestly, he could’ve died if he snapped his neck. However, probably thanks to Tikki’s luck- He didn’t. He knew it was the right choice to let the Kwami tag onto his patrol nights.

“You’re really battered up. It’s a miracle you even survived.” Marinette murmured under her breath. “Stupid selfless idiot.”

“Stupid selfless what?” Robin raised an eyebrow. The girl only blushed more, not saying anything else. “Stupid selfless what?” He repeated.

Marinette huffed at him. “Kitty Noir dropped over just now. She told me what happened and told me to prepare my first aid kit.” She could hear Plagg’s approval at the flawless spontaneous lie she’d come up with on the spot.

Robin sighed. That explained it. There were already some bandages and bottles of medicine on the balcony when he dropped by. That explained why she was so ready for him. And also why she didn’t believe his ‘I fell off the stairs’ theory.

“You stupid selfless idiot.” Marinette repeated, agitating herself as she said the same phrase again, dabbing on his wounds a little harder as he winced. As soon as she noticed this movement, she apologized hastily. “Sorry.” She sighed. “I’m just worried about you.”

“I’m fine, angel.” Robin smiled, carressing her face gently. “I’m fine.”

“A-Angel?” She stuttered, blushing wildly. “W-What’s with the nickname?”

Robin shrugged. “You’re just an angel. You’re not as insufferable as everyone else, you’re kind, generous, and you mind space. That makes you already better than fifty percent of the population. And it makes you my personal angel.”

Maybe... That glint was already in him.

(Tag List: @yin-390 @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @constancetruggle @the-navistar-carol @never-neverland @rayray384 @mystery-5-5 @black-streak @bluerosette23 )

There we go! Another chapter! This one is slightly shorter because of the time constraint :( sowy (AUTHOR CAN’T SPELL SORRY RIGHT)

I’m really sorry if I miss your name in the tag list because my laptop’s tumblr is real messy and laggy so I’m trying to get a hang of everything.

On the other hand I got 12 followers in one day

It’s a miracle

Thank you guys so much I can’t express how much I love you all right now

So right now Marinette’s kind of how Marinette normally is for Adrien but for Robin, Damian’s a bro-friend sort of thing, and to Damian/Lordbug/Robin Marinette is a little angel and a gift to the world. Later we’re going to have Kitty Noir head-over-heels for Robin the way Chat is head-over-heels for ladybug. No more spoilers though!

Again, before this author’s note gets too long, message me if any mistakes were spotten (See what I did there?) because I didn’t proof-read the chapter really well.

#damianwayne #marinettedupaincheng #miraculousladybug #daminette #lordbug #robin #kittynoir #lordbugrobinandkittynoir #damian x marinette #marinette x damian #robin gets hurt :(#but marinette is there to kiss his wounds better though

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