Oct 5, 2025
@tree-reads Collaboration Master Post
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@tree-reads Collaboration Master Post
Link to AO3
Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11
The final chapter of our life swap AU! Thank you, @tree-reads for sharing this with me, I've enjoyed every second of our plotting and writing!
@maribat-get-in
Link to AO3
Happy at Last
Marinette stepped off of the plane in New Jersey and breathed deeply. It had been so long since she had last been here, and the view from the streets was wildly different to the one she got when leaping across rooftops so she couldn’t say that it was nostalgic - yet. But she would get the chance to see the skyline from up high again soon, because she fully intended to see and speak to Blackbird while she was in the city.
Grabbing her suitcase, she lugged it out of the arrivals gate and glanced around the airport to see if she could spot her ride to Damian’s place. He had promised that he had someone available to take her and she would know them when she saw them. No amount of wheedling and whining had made him give up his secrets so she was excited to find out who he had chosen.
“Looking for someone, Starling?”
Squealing, she dropped the suitcase and launched herself at Damian, who had somehow managed to sneak up on her. Six months had passed too quickly, and his hair looked a little longer than when he had been in Paris, just falling into his eyes. There were probably other changes to note but she was too busy latching onto him so she could kiss him senseless. As lovely as dates over the internet could be, it was nothing on the sheer joy she got when she could touch him, could be there with him.
“Stars, I missed you,” she breathed in between kisses, pouting when he made her get down and grabbed her suitcase. “Boo, I’m owed at least ten more minutes of kisses.”
“I promise you can have as many kisses as you wish once we are not at risk of being pickpocketed or mugged,” he said, gripping her hand and tugging her towards the exit. The pout melted away as she got excited all over again that they were together again. “Although I must warn you that Richard has the evening off from work so will be joining us for our evening meal today.”
“Ugh, fine, I guess I can share you for one evening,” she conceded, letting him show her into the car he had driven to collect her. “But tomorrow we have an evening to ourselves, right?”
“We shall have the whole apartment to ourselves,” he promised before starting the car and driving them away. It was easy to forget she was in a different country when they drove on the same side of the road, but she was reminded by the road signs that made no sense to her at the speeds they were driving. “I also have a spare motorcycle helmet ready for you, should you wish to go out for a ride with me whilst you are here.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Silence spread comfortably between them, Marinette’s head lolling forward as she fought to stay awake, and Damian’s steady ‘tap-tap’ on his steering wheel filling the air between them. She didn’t remember much of the drive but jerked awake as he parked in an apartment complex’s underground parking garage. Even with it being a private space, Damian wasted no time in ushering her out of the car and into the key-coded building itself.
Dick was charming again, his endless chatter about work and things he wanted to show Marinette while she was in town making it so she didn’t have to talk much given how tired she was. Damian sat next to her, adding his own thoughts every now and again, but it was still a relief when they had all finished dinner and she was shown to her room for the duration of her stay. A tiny part of her was disappointed that she wasn’t going to be rooming with Damian but she squashed that part ruthlessly as she reminded herself it would be easier to go out and visit Blackbird if she had her own room.
Blackbird. The one that got away, though not the one that she wanted to build a future with anymore. Thinking about their near miss at a relationship didn’t bring the sting that it used to, back when she was still unsure and craved the unwavering loyalty and kindness that the vigilante had shown her.
But that first night, she slept until the early hours of the morning and woke up suddenly, like she had heard something moving in the apartment. Frowning and climbing out of bed, she checked the living area and kitchen, only to find nothing amiss. Perhaps Dick or Damian had knocked something over in their rooms. Regardless, she was awake now and wanted to get that view of the skyline she had so missed.
So, shoving herself into a jacket, she climbed onto the fire escape outside the living room window and trotted up to the roof. The air was crisp and clear, and she thought she could get used to nights like this if she ended up settling down in Bludhaven. Damian was attached to the city and she was more than happy to work from wherever she needed to as her clients weren’t particularly fussy with where she made their clothes, as long as she created them.
“Struggling to sleep, Marinette?” Damian asked, appearing behind her again as she was trying to locate their old meeting spot. Now that she was up here, she was sure it wasn’t far, but she gave up as Damian wrapped his arms around her from behind and gazed out over her head. “I suppose the time difference will cause problems the first few days.”
“Mmm,” she hummed, snuggling into his arms and enjoying the way he held her tighter as she did so. “I thought I heard something and it woke me up, but I think maybe it’s just the jetlag putting thoughts in my head. What about you?”
“I find it difficult to sleep knowing you are under the same roof but not with me,” he said in a low voice, making her blush and hide her face in her hands. “Starling, you’ve become much more easily flustered in my absence. I rather like that my words so affect you,” he teased, pressing a warm kiss to a spot near her earlobe.
“Sh-shush, that’s not- I was just thinking that the view is really nice up here,” she huffed, turning towards him and mock-glaring at him. His face was all sharp angles and dramatic shadows in the dark, and she probably shouldn’t find the darkness mysterious, or attractive, but they really were.
Damian, meanwhile, was memorising the outline of her face again, the familiar slope of her eyebrow and curve of her cheekbones arresting in the moonlight. She was beautiful, and the smell of vanilla and something slightly spicier made him want to see just how flustered he could make her.
Taking advantage of the darkness, and the lack of a third party, he kissed the glare right off of her face, taking his time to thoroughly remember all of the different ways he could make her sigh. By the time he stopped, they were both breathing heavily and Marinette wasn’t the only one looking a little warm.
“I detest living on different continents,” he rumbled once he had enough air to do so. She nodded back at him, hands playing with the ends of his hair and gliding along his jaw. It made him shiver slightly and she grinned at him as she did it again, eliciting the same response. “We shall have to work something out so that we do not spend so long apart next time one of us must leave.”
The bright smile on her face was all the answer he needed, and they settled back to looking at the stars together. Oddly, she kept glancing over in a seemingly random direction, her head turning back sharply whenever she caught herself doing it. He tried to leave it alone but the seventh time she had done it in just over three minutes he couldn’t help but ask. But her answer was…confusing, though only for a moment.
“Oh, um, that building just has a great view,” she said quickly, turning to look at him fully before blanching slightly and stuttering again. “I mean it looks like it has a great view! I’ve never actually been on that rooftop, obviously, because I’ve never been on any rooftop in Bludhaven before! Or in Bludhaven at all! This is my, Marinette’s, first time visiting the United States at all, so it would be silly to think I would know what a rooftop view would look like-”
She continued to babble, but Damian’s mind was whirring away from him, pushing pieces together and showing a picture he hardly dared to believe was real. Swallowing, he threaded his hands into her hair, separating it into a middle parting and pushing them behind her ears into rough pigtails. Could they be that lucky? Did he take the risk that she was who he thought she was?
“Starling, I am rather fond of you,” he began, pulling her flush against him and pressing a kiss to her forehead. He felt as she stilled, confusion and disbelief crossing her face as he pulled back. “You said that it was not goodbye, that it was only until next time. I did not expect next time to feel like a completely new beginning.”
“You’re- you-” she said, eyes filling with tears even as she gave a shaky laugh. “I heard you coming back from patrol, didn’t I! I’m not going crazy, you’re just not graceful enough not to knock over a lamp coming back into your own apartment.”
“Tt, do not be absurd,” he sniffed, fighting to keep his grin from completely splitting his face. “Richard is not graceful, he knocked over the vase he shouldn’t keep in his room.”
“Oh my god, he’s-”
“Yes, though I think we should refrain from any further discussion about our nightly excursions out in the open where anyone might overhear,” he interrupted, breathing out a chuckle as he rested his forehead against hers. “The odds of us finding one another-”
“Get a little skewed when you have a literal good luck charm,” she giggled, reaching up and kissing him again.
Another Serversary fic and the official start to the October Prompts! yay!
@maribat-get-in @maribatserver
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Marinette was a liar. Her most hated trait, and she was the embodiment of it, though not by choice, and certainly not enthusiastically. Perhaps it was why she hated liars so fervently, because surely nobody else that she interacted with was in such a position. If she had a choice, she would be honest about everything but she knew the consequences of telling the truth would be disastrous.
It wasn’t something she had to lie about regularly, but it was something that played at the back of her mind whenever she had a sleepover with the girls. Because, inevitably, Alya brought up their love lives or lack thereof. The only one she spared from it was Alix, who scoffed whenever they suggested she might find someone when they moved on from lycée to university so they left her to it. Marinette wished she could do the same, but she had gushed one too many times about Adrien’s green eyes and beautiful smile to get away with it now.
“All I’m saying,” Alya said, waving her pretzel stick around like a magic wand, “is that we should try and get the boys to invite us to one of their days out, after they’ve got it all planned. That way we can pair Marinette with Adrien for whatever we have planned-”
“Alya, I told you it isn’t going to work out with Adrien,” Marinette said, frowning as she tried to bury the pang that came along with the words. If she could have the choice, Adrien might have been perfect for her - if he wasn’t already dating Kagami. “He has a girlfriend, remember? One that I like and am friends with, so can you stop trying to set us up? I don’t want to hurt her.”
“Fine,” Alya said, drawing it out and flopping onto the chaise dramatically. Only to pop up in the next second with a gleam in her eye. “Okay, so Adrien is out, what about Luka? Or I think Zoe was still interested-”
“I don’t want to date right now,” Marinette sighed, averting her eyes in case anyone saw the guilt she felt at fudging the truth in them. It got harder every day to hide that she had a different future to the rest of them, her life already mapped out by her parents. What was she supposed to say when they asked where she had applied to university? Oh, I’m actually going to the middle of nowhere to marry someone my parents chose for me. Yeah, that wasn’t going to go down well, so she usually just said she was applying abroad, and dodged as many follow up questions as she could.
When the others were asleep, she headed out to her balcony to gaze at the stars. She let her mind drift back to when she was eight and found out about her betrothal for the first time…
Marinette had been playing with a doll in her room, dressing it in clothes she had stitched clumsily together with the needle and thread she had found in an old kit. Her Maman and Papa had been nervous about something and barely even batted an eye when she asked to take an old blanket to cut up and reshape. Not wanting to risk them changing their minds, she had scurried away with it and hidden in her room as she crafted the clothes.
“Marinette!” Sabine called, and Marinette launched herself down the stairs to her attic room to show her what she had made. Pride bubbled in her gut and she was beaming brightly until she saw a strange woman standing with her parents. She was beautiful, and had lovely, long, black hair that Marinette wanted to touch, to see if it was as silky as it looked. “Marinette, come here and meet an old…colleague of mine, Talia al Ghul. Talia, this is our daughter, Marinette.”
“How charming she is,” Talia murmured, crouching down to look Marinette over critically. Eight year old Marinette had been uneasy but didn’t know why, her hands moving to hide the doll behind her back before it could be laughed at. “Creative, too. My Damian is an artist, they should be able to bond thanks to that.”
“Who’s Damian?” Marinette had asked immediately, her childish curiosity making her speak without fear of any repercussions. Her parents had looked terrified but Talia had merely smiled and tilted her head at the tiny girl.
“Damian al Ghul is my son,” she said, approval lurking in her eyes. “And one day, you two will be married.”
“Why? Don’t we have to be boyfriend and girlfriend first?” Marinette wrinkled her nose at the thought of marrying anyone, let alone some random boy she had never met. “Is he going to go to school with me? Because I don’t have any friends right now so it would be nice if he was going to come to my school and be my friend.”
“No, but you will need to come with me when you are eighteen to be wed,” Talia replied, standing up and looking back at Marinette’s parents. “I trust you will prepare her, both in martial arts training and in what her duties will be as bride to the heir of the demon. I will check in regularly, even if I do not speak to you, so do not disappoint me, Xia Bing.”
“Yes, mistress,” Sabine said, bowing her head in deference to the woman. And then Talia was gone, leaving behind a confused Marinette and fretful parents.
Over the years, Talia had come back and Marinette had grown more aware of just how serious it was as time passed. This Damian al Ghul was going to be her husband, whether she liked it or not, and as she grew old enough to appreciate what a relationship could be she began to resent the fact that she wouldn’t get a choice in the matter.
Talia had graciously told her, when she had last visited when Marinette was twelve, that she was welcome to date any of the rabble around her without consequences, as long as she left them behind to marry Damian. But Marinette was a romantic at heart so, even though she was free to enter any ‘dalliance’ of her choosing, she couldn’t bear to date someone if she wasn’t even allowed to entertain a future with them.
It was unfortunate, but she was in no position to argue against what was planned for her. Talia’s colourful history had been laid out for Marinette so, at seventeen, she had no doubt in her mind at all that she was destined to marry the Prince of the League of Assassins.
_ _ _
“Todd, return my book at once,” Damian snarled, yanking it from the older vigilante’s hands and smirking in triumph. “You may borrow it once I have finished my assignment at school.”
“It’s no fun when I’m allowed to borrow it, brat,” Todd snarked, but Damian waved him away as he settled down to read the next section of the tedious tome. “Since when do you care about your grades? I would’ve thought you’d be sneaking out on dates at this point, why are you so boring?”
“Tt, there is no point in going on outings with anyone other than my future bride,” Damian said offhandedly, earning an eyeroll from the former crime lord.
“Sure there is! Practice,” Todd shrugged, a smirk on his own face that vanished when Damian just shook his head. “See? Boring. Besides, wonder brat, how the heck are you supposed to find your ‘future bride’ if you don’t date around? What, hoping someone just lands in your lap at some point?”
“You assume I have not already been betrothed to someone?” Damian remarked, brow furrowing. Surely his father had made them all aware of his betrothed. Was that not why he was being put onto a plane later in the academic year, to meet Marinette in person before their nuptials? With how adamant they had all been about his participation, he had assumed they were all aware…yes, any other outcome was too absurd to think on. Todd must be messing with him. “You are so childish, Todd.”
“Wha- Hey! I’m not the one staying in on a Friday night to do homework! Screw this, I’m going to find Roy and get drunk,” Todd grumbled, stalking out of the room and leaving Damian to shake his head and turn back to his book. His grades had to be impeccable to be chosen for the trip and he had no intention of missing the chance to meet his bride before his mother forced their union.
Chapter 10 of @tree-reads and my AU! @maribat-get-in
Link to AO3
Bruce Appears
The next day, Damian arrived at Marinette’s apartment as early as he dared, coffee in hand and completely stressed out. After having slept for a decent stretch of time, he found that his rested mind was more than capable of throwing multiple scenarios where Marinette broke up with him, and no amount of Richard’s affirmations convinced him it could go any other way.
“One sec,” came the bleary voice through her intercom, then the light blinked and the door buzzed so that he could enter. She opened the door for him and his heart swelled at her mussed hair and sleepy eyes, her pyjamas rumpled from sleep. “Hey, s’that for me?”
“One café au lait, two espresso, one pump of caramel,” he stated, holding it out for her as he stepped over the threshold of her home. “I thought you might appreciate the caffeine. And the company, if you were similarly as stressed as myself.”
“Are you okay?” she asked immediately, eyes clearing somewhat as she peered up at him. She didn’t even take a sip of the coffee as she gave him a once over and hummed. “You look great, but I guess you meant emotionally. Um, we should-”
“I love you,” he blurted, making her eyes widen before they crinkled from the smile that grew on her face. He took her face in his hands and pressed a featherlight kiss to her lips as he tried to calm his racing heart, only to jump back in surprise when someone emerged from her bedroom. “Ah, good morning, Alya. I did not realise-”
“Yeah, I gathered,” the dark skinned girl said teasingly, “Well, I just came over to keep Marinette company for the night, but I should really head home to get my stuff ready for class now that she’s awake and has you here for her. Call me when you’re free, girl, and I’ll drag Adrien away from his physics classes for long enough to have a movie night.”
“Thanks, Als,” she called out as Alya left the apartment. Then she turned to Damian and pulled him down into a much deeper kiss, her hands gripping his shirt front tightly enough that he would have struggled to escape, had he wanted to. “I love you, too, by the way.”
“Good, I was not sure how I would cope if you had decided I was no longer worth the trouble I bring you,” he murmured, chasing another kiss. Then he frowned and glanced at her hands. “I did give you the coffee I purchased, correct? I would hate to think I dropped it in my haste.”
“I put it on the counter while you were panicking over Alya,” she giggled, hugging him tightly and laying her head against his chest. “How did your phone call go last night?”
“As well as I could have expected,” he said evasively, glad she wasn’t looking up at him to see the flash of irritation he still had for Tom and Sabine. “Were you successful in speaking with Talia?”
“Mhm,” Marinette answered, sighing against him. “She didn’t seem too upset by this turn of events, but she’s a little hard to read at times. She just said ‘Do not let him adopt as many strays as Bruce and you will be fine’. I didn’t dare ask if she meant children or animals.”
Damian snorted and rested his own cheek on her head before she pulled away to drink the coffee, a happy hum coming out of her again as she drained the cup quickly. He fully intended to take her out for the day, to visit one of the museums again so that they could relax and spend time together, but he would let her relax and enjoy her morning first.
The doorbell rang while he was checking her refrigerator for something to make for her breakfast and she laughed and said that Alya must have forgotten one of her textbooks. In spite of coming over to take care of Marinette, she had apparently brought her work with her so that she didn’t have to go home at any point. It was the sort of thoughtful thing Marinette appreciated and it helped soothe Damian’s rage that she had friends that took away some of the loneliness she had most certainly experienced.
“Oh,” Marinette said, her eyes as wide as saucers as she opened the apartment door to some hurried knocking. Damian was instantly ready to take down whoever was on the other side of the door as it was clearly not Alya, and he edged around the side of the room so that he stayed out of sight of whoever was in the doorway to keep the element of surprise. “What- What are you doing here?”
“I thought it might be time for us to meet,” a deep voice said, one that Damian immediately recognised and made him freeze. “I’m sorry for coming so suddenly, it came to my attention that-”
Bruce cut off when Damian managed to step around the door to hover protectively over Marinette’s shoulder and a look of concern immediately took over his face. It was smoothed over almost as quickly, but Damian had been watching his face carefully and he felt the dull stab of hurt that Bruce still thought he hadn’t grown.
“...Damian, this is a surprise,” he said, his voice even but his jaw twitching slightly. But Damian’s focus moved solely to Marinette, who bristled and shuffled closer to him, which Bruce clearly took notice of. “I think it would be good for us to have some time to speak and get to know each other, preferably without an audience which we would be certain to have if we met in Gotham.”
“Right,” Marinette said, her voice muted. Damian was hesitant to lay a hand on her with Bruce watching them so closely, but he didn’t want her to think he wasn’t going to be at her side if she wanted him. “Well, I would introduce you to my boyfriend but I’m pretty sure you’re already acquainted.”
Then she took hold of Damian’s hand and held onto it tightly enough that he thought she must be using him as an anchor. He squeezed back before looping his arm over her head and pulling her back against him and staring Bruce down. He refused to be the first to back down, not when Marinette was making it clear that she knew who Bruce was to him.
“I see,” Bruce said slowly, obviously re-evaluating his strategy for forcing a wedge between them. “I think perhaps you and I should-”
“Damian, do you think we could call Dick, get him here, too?” she asked, tilting her head back and looking at him. “He would want to be there for the conversation we’re going to have, right?”
“I’ll call him now,” he murmured in response, kissing the top of her head before disappearing into her room. Whilst he would have liked to stay and witness the exchange that was likely to happen, he was more than sure that they should have a moment to speak before Richard descended.
Marinette stared at the man who had fathered her, who she had never met prior to this moment. She didn’t know how to speak to him, not when he hadn’t reached out to her until now. And she was fairly certain that he was only here now because he knew that Damian was here which definitely rubbed her the wrong way.
“I’m glad we’re finally meeting,” he said after several long moments of silence. “I’m sorry I couldn’t introduce myself before, but I hope we can become closer now.”
“Yeah, it would be good to get to know you,” she said carefully, glancing over to where the bedroom door stood open and Damian spoke in hushed tones just beyond it. “Dick didn’t mention that you were coming to Paris after he spoke to you yesterday.”
“It was a sudden decision, I don’t think he was aware,” Bruce said diplomatically, fidgeting in the doorway. “Would you like to go out to get something to eat? We could find a restaurant and-”
“I really don’t think the conversation we’re sure to have should be had in public, do you?” she asked, pointedly turning to where Damian was hanging up the phone. His green eyes latched onto hers and she felt her shoulders relax a little, the tension melting away as he smirked at her.
“Starling, would you perhaps like to get dressed before Richard arrives?” he said smoothly, letting his gaze rove down her slowly and he continued to smirk wickedly. She yelped and blushed as she pushed past him, shutting the bedroom door with a snap so she could get dressed.
By the time she came out of the room her blush had completely calmed and Dick had arrived. He was glaring at Bruce so severely she thought he might pop a blood vessel, though he turned to smile broadly at her when she opened the door.
“Hey, Mari, you look like you’re feeling a little better today,” he said, sauntering over to her and hugging her warmly. It was sweet and made a lump lodge in her throat at just how fatherly he was treating her after knowing her for only a day. “But if you’re still feeling out of sorts, we don’t have to have this conversation today. Bruce will listen if you say no, so don’t feel like you have to just because he showed up here with no warning.”
“Thanks, Dick,” she replied quietly, enjoying the hug for another second before pulling back. “But I think we should probably do this now instead of waiting for things to get more complicated, don’t you?”
“Okay, but if either of you wants to call a stop to it, we will,” he promised, turning to include Damian in the statement. “So, where shall we start?”
_ _ _
Several hours later Marinette wasn’t sure she really had any more answers than she’d had when they started. Bruce had given the same reasons as Talia for staying away until then, but wouldn’t give them a straight answer as to why he had shown up unannounced the day after Damian and Marinette had worked out the connections in their messy lives. It was frustrating, but she guessed she didn’t expect anything less from the man who had given up raising Damian just because he didn’t get to choose him.
“Marinette, thank you for inviting me into your home at such short notice,” he said as he got ready to leave. Dick was escorting him to his hotel - he was staying at the Grand Paris so there wasn’t any risk of them bumping into him in the hallways - while Damian and Marinette spent some more time together alone. Bruce had tried to argue that they should all leave Marinette to rest but Dick was having none of it, strong-arming Bruce out of the building by saying that she didn’t seem to mind his company.
“Well, he’s almost exactly as I pictured him,” she grimaced to Damian when they were finally alone, stacking mugs and plates by the sink to wash when she was ready to face it. “No wonder you asked Dick to adopt you, Bruce is the most awkward man I have ever met, and I knew Gabriel Agreste before he was outed as Shadowmoth.”
“You knew Gabriel Agreste?” Damian asked, head tilting and eyes bright with curiosity. “How did you know him?”
“Ah, he’s Adrien’s biological father,” she said with a frown. “That’s why we changed our surnames to the same one. I couldn’t lay claim to either of my parent’s names without bringing trouble down on me and he couldn’t bear to keep his own. Lanoir is what we chose together, after an old family friend and because we were both fans of the heroes here in Paris.”
“Ladybug and Chat Noir,” he nodded, looking pensive for a moment. “They retired, did they not? Roughly a year ago, if I recall correctly.”
“You do, though I don’t think I blame them for taking a step back. They were so young when they first started, and Chat Noir used to visit my balcony to talk and the things he was able to share with me…let’s just say he deserved to hang up his claws,” Marinette said, recalling a particularly difficult evening after three akumas had struck, one after another. She shook her head to dispel the memories and focused back on Damian.
“Your heroes always seemed like they had little choice in becoming the hope of Paris,” he added, and she nodded again, hands twisting in her lap as she centred herself. It was always difficult talking about Shadowmoth’s reign as a civilian but it was doubly hard to talk about the heroes when she couldn’t tell him exactly who she was in that situation. As much as she loved him and wanted to share everything, it wasn’t only her secret to share and she wouldn’t jeopardise the other’s safety by sharing it too soon.
So instead of filling any gaps, she settled her head into the crook of his neck and kicked her feet into his lap, taking the comfort he offered just by being close to him. Someday, she whispered to herself, sure that he would be staying around to earn those secrets. Someday.
_ _ _
Bruce didn’t stay for much longer. Damian assumed Richard had berated him for trying to involve himself so long after learning of Marinette’s existence (he didn’t want to know when Bruce found out about Marinette. It would only make him angry) and was glad to see him leave. Marinette hadn’t seemed overly upset that he wasn’t staying and that made it easy to ignore him when he pulled Damian aside for a stern word about treating Marinette carefully. As if he would treat her with anything less than adoration and admiration, as she deserved.
His relationship with Tom and Sabine stalled as well. Now that he had a real reason for being unhappy with them, he could freely admit that they were a disappointment in the parent department. Perhaps, if he hadn’t had Richard, Jonathan, Clark, and Lois as examples, he would have been desperate for the affection they held out to him but that wasn’t the case. He already had the family he wanted, Tom and Sabine were merely extras that he had hoped to incorporate into his life.
Jonathan had been thrilled to find out that Marinette and he were dating. It had been a challenge forcing him to agree not to fly over to Paris so he could meet her in person, but they had conducted a video call so that they were acquainted before Damian returned to Bludhaven. He wasn’t sure Jonathan would have accepted anything less, and it would be easier to keep the Super in the correct country when they were in the same one.
The hardest part came when Damian had to head home. They were only traveling to meet his parents and, now that that was complete, they needed to return so that Nightwing and Blackbird could return too. Jason would be happy to go back to his purview of Crime Alley, and Bruce would undoubtedly be relieved that Damian would no longer be monopolising Marinette’s time. The last one was not a reason for returning - rather, a reason to remain - but it had been something he had joked about when discussing with Marinette how they would proceed with their relationship.
“Then I guess I’ll just have to come and visit you in Bludhaven as soon as I can,” she swore, kissing his cheek and hugging him tightly. “I’m going to miss you, you know. Promise you’ll call me as soon as you land?”
“I promise,” he said, cupping her cheek and drawing her into a kiss that warmed him all the way to his toes. It was with great reluctance that he drew back and followed Richard to their departure gate, his heart feeling like he had left it with her.
Chapter 9 of @tree-reads and my AU 😊 @maribat-get-in
Link to AO3
Worlds Collide
One long, and emotionally messy, conversation later, Marinette and Damian finally understood as much as they could about their pasts. Marinette had explained about how, when she was young, Damian’s parents had admitted to her that she wasn’t theirs. That, in spite of them raising her, it hadn’t been their choice because Talia had stolen him away and left Marinette in his place with a note threatening something if they didn’t comply. Marinette wasn’t able to explain that fully because she’d never been privy to the contents of said letter, but neither of them doubted Talia’s capability of striking appropriate amounts of fear in Tom and Sabine.
Damian had decided to give her an unsanitised version of events from his side, only omitting that which would implicate secret identities that he was sure she wasn’t aware of. If Talia had sent her away because she wanted her to be safe, she wasn’t going to give her the dangerous knowledge of who precisely wore the cowl. The green tinge on her face when he described his early childhood was enough to let him know that she was horrified by what he had endured.
“We should delay introducing you to Tom and Sabine,” he said in an attempt to bring some humour to the situation, but even he could tell that it fell flat. Her eyes were dull and the smile on her face half hearted, and he wondered why she had described them as people who had raised her. And why, in spite of their obvious longing for a child, Tom and Sabine hadn’t had any pictures of her in their apartment. It wasn’t Marinette’s fault that Talia had done everything she had. “But I would still like you to meet Richard.”
“He’ll hate me,” she said, voice thick with tears again. His heart clenched as he took her hand and tilted her chin to look her in the eye.
“He will not. Richard knows everything about my childhood and has been the one by my side as we searched for my birth parents,” he explained, resting his forehead against hers in the hopes that it would help to ground her. “If anything, he will be angry with Bruce and Talia for putting the both of us in situations we could not control that hurt us.”
“You can’t possibly know that,” she breathed, her voice small and hurt. He could feel her start to pull away, to protect herself from the potential pain that was coming based on her experiences. And, without the words to prove he was right, he instead chose to press his lips to hers and tried to convince her he was right that way.
“I know and trust Richard, he would never fail me in such a horrendous manner as to be angry with you. And I hope that you trust me enough to at least try and meet with him, although I will understand if you cannot,” he said when he eventually pulled away from her.
“I do trust you,” she said immediately, her voice cracking only slightly. Then she sighed and let her head fall onto his shoulder as he wrapped his arms more tightly around her. “Okay. Let’s go and do it now, meet Richard and go from there.”
The entire walk back to the hotel was quiet, Marinette’s hand in his slightly clammy. Not that he would say that to her and risk her letting go altogether. If he thought it would help, he would fill the silence between them with random chatter, probably animal facts he thought would interest her. But if she was mentally preparing herself for this, he didn’t want to say the wrong thing and make her turn back.
There was a moment, when they re-entered the hotel room, that he thought she might run again. But then she took a deep breath and plastered a smile on her face that he worried might physically hurt her to keep there before Richard was upon them.
“Hey, you two!” Richard said in that excited way of his that ordinarily made Damian roll his eyes. “You must be Marinette. I’m Dick Grayson, Damian’s adoptive dad and best friend-”
“You are not my best friend, Richard,” Damian interjected, now rolling his eyes and pulling Marinette closer. “There are…things we should discuss. Perhaps we should sit down and order dinner as it might take some time.”
_ _ _
“Okay, I think this might be the weirdest situation I’ve ever come across,” Dick - he had insisted, in spite of Marinette’s initial surprise and embarrassment - said, throwing himself back on the sofa. Marinette braced herself for the inevitable desire to keep his son away from her, for the anger that she had had an easy life while Damian had suffered thanks to her parents. “I’m so sorry you went through all of this, Marinette.”
“I- what?” she said, blinking and glancing at Damian to confirm she hadn’t misheard. By the smug look on his face, she hadn’t. “Aren’t you angry?”
“Oh, I’m furious! I expect this sort of shit from Talia, for sure - no offence, I know she’s your mom - but Bruce? If he wasn’t absolutely on my bad side from how he’s been handling Damian, the fact that he kept you a secret from all of us would be the last straw,” Dick seethed, hand gripping his phone so tightly she was worried he was going to crack it. But his tone was mild, and if she wasn’t used to looking for signs of upset that people try to hide she wouldn’t have seen it. “You two are kids. What in the world was anyone thinking?”
“Marinette means you are not angry with her,” Damian piped up, apparently ignoring the frantic look she shot him. What if he put the idea in Dick’s head, and his anger with the adults had just distracted him from the fact that he could be angry with her. But she shouldn’t have worried because Dick immediately looked horrified.
“Angry with you? How could I be angry with you? Not only was exactly none of this your fault, you make lil D happy. I don’t think I could get angry with you if I tried,” he said, voice turning from shocked to gentle as he patted her on the head. It was sweet, in a slightly demeaning way, but she found she didn’t mind it that much. Still, she had to be sure her own blame wasn’t just being forgotten or pushed aside for the moment, so she pushed ahead with her reasoning.
“I mean, I did steal Damian’s life,” she said in as strong a voice as she could manage. She wasn’t brave enough to look at Dick, so she snuck a sideways glance at Damian only to find him frowning. “If Talia hadn’t swapped us, he would have grown up happy and safe with his parents, he would-”
“Okay, stop that right there, little missy,” Dick said sternly, pushing off the sofa he was on to crouch in front of her. “We’re not doing ‘what if’s, we’re not doing the blame game, we’re not upset with you. I mean, you were hurt by this too, right?”
“I was healthy and physically fine, you can’t tell me the same was true for Damian,” she shot back, guilt crawling up her throat and building heat behind her eyes. “I’ve been to where he grew up, it was no place for a child.”
“Talia was not a bad mother to me, not really,” Damian said softly, though Dick harrumphed. “Truly, she showed me as much kindness as she could in the League and she moved me to Wayne Manor as soon as was possible. And I cannot fault her for wanting to keep you safe, Starling.”
The resulting meltdown for Marinette was a mixture of guilt, self-hatred, and a small seed of hope that wanted desperately to believe that Damian meant it. By the time she left, she was exhausted and just wanted to curl up in her bed for several days, so she was glad when Damian reminded her that he was cancelling the lunch with Tom and Sabine the following day. She wasn’t sure she could take the emotional damage of being back in their home after everything else.
Damian returned from seeing Marinette home and collapsed in his bed. There had been too many revelations in too short a time and he wanted to sleep until everything had been settled without him. Unfortunately, he was going to have to call his parents to inform them of the change of plans and he wasn’t sure how they would handle it.
Bracing himself, he called. It was still early evening and he was optimistic that he would be able to speak to at least one of them to let them know that he wasn’t going to visit them the next day. If he was honest, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to visit them again at all. Because as much as he wanted to know them, and they clearly wanted to know him, they had hurt Marinette. She had explained, over and over, that they were mourning the loss of their true child, that she was safe and had a roof over her head for her entire childhood.
But he could read between those lines and saw a childhood far lonelier than he had had. In spite of Talia’s harsh mannerisms, she had shown him affection in little ways, bringing him books about animals and new weapons. She had given him a false history and future, but she had given them to him. And when he had found out he was not who he thought he was, Richard had been there immediately, and from that point he had only known the smothering comfort of being loved.
“Tom and Sabine’s boulangerie patisserie, how can I help?” came Sabine’s cheery customer service voice, the bakery sounding quiet in the background.
“It is Damian,” he began, and she immediately called for Tom, the line going quiet for a moment while they stood together. He cleared his throat when they asked why he was calling, trying to keep his temper even. "I cannot come tomorrow," he said, trying not to let his anger at them show in his voice. He reminded himself again that they were still his parents, they had still wanted him regardless of how they had treated Marinette. And that she would feel responsible if he denied them. "We will reschedule, for a time when my girlfriend is ready."
“Oh, is she unwell?” Tom said, sounding dismayed. It rankled to know that he probably wouldn’t sound so fatherly if he knew who Damian was talking about. “We could make some soup and bread for you to take to her, or-”
“I do not think that is a wise decision,” he cut in, a small amount of bite beginning to escape his tight grip. “Why did you not tell me that you raised someone else in my place?”
“It wasn’t important, Damian,” Sabine said after a pregnant pause, her voice wavering slightly. “The girl wasn’t ours, she was just left in our care and-”
“-and she was a child. She was innocent and you could have shown her the care you claim you had for me,” he said before he could help himself. He took a deep breath to centre himself and tried to salvage the conversation before he ruined any chance he had at a relationship with them. Marinette had been quite adamant that he not chastise them for her childhood, he just apparently could not help himself. “Apologies, I have had a lot of new information today. Perhaps we can reschedule a meal for next week, just for the three of us.”
“Whatever you want,” Tom said, no small measure of desperation colouring his tone. “And when your girlfriend recovers, we can arrange a new date for that as well. After all, we can’t plan a wedding cake without her input, right?”
“We shall have to see,” Damian said, stunned at the cavalier way they ignored his outburst in favour of trying to forget it and return to normal. He wasn’t sure he was ever going to be able to take Marinette back to their home, and that was going to strain the relationship no matter what. “It has been a trying day, I shall call you another day to arrange our lunch. Goodbye.”
“That sounded rough,” Richard said from the doorway, his shoulder leaning fully on it. “I still have to call Bruce, he’s not picking up. How’s Marinette doing?”
“She was overwhelmed and has not messaged since I left her at her apartment,” Damian replied, setting his phone carefully aside. “I do not understand anything. My parents did not treat her as I would have expected, based on our interactions, and Marinette does not want me to blame them. But I am so- so angry that she suffered. I do not know how to fix this for her.”
“You don’t have to fix it, Dames,” Richard said gently, coming over to sit on the bed with him. The hug was welcome, as was the assurance that he was doing everything he could. “You both suffered, in different ways, and you’ll work through those together. Or you won’t, and that’s okay too.”
“I do not want to lose her,” Damian whispered, burying his head in Richard’s shoulder and trying to think past the panic that thought invoked.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you will,” Richard smiled, squeezing his shoulders before letting him lean back. “As much as you love her, she loves you. And you have each other’s secrets now so-”
“She does not know about our nightly activities,” Damian interrupted. “And we will need to decide how to proceed once we return home. Perhaps she will wish to wash her hands of me after everything.”
“We’ll see,” was all Richard said, though Damian could tell from his tone that his hopeless romantic optimism meant he just assumed it would work out. Perhaps, for now, he could try and see from that same viewpoint.
Chapter 8 of @tree-reads and my AU for @maribat-get-in
Link to AO3
Meeting Dick Grayson
Dating Damian Grayson was unlike anything Marinette had ever experienced before. True to what she’d said they were taking things slowly, though she wasn’t entirely sure it was stopping her heart from running away with itself. They were opening up to each other, discussing things like family and future plans: she would be lying if she said she didn’t picture hers with him in it.
When she did talk about her family, she left Tom and Sabine out of it. She explained that she had been raised by a couple but had recently reconnected with her birth mother and had hopes of connecting with her birth father eventually. He seemed sympathetic and happy for her, sharing that he had also only recently found his own birth parents, though his adoptive father was still very much in his life and important to him.
Those discussions were ones that often ended in him staying at her apartment until late, curled up together on her sofa with mugs of tea and the lights off. It was easy, and often led to conversations about what they wanted for the future themselves. Telling him about her hopes to have her own children and show them as much love and care as she could seemed natural, as did his admittance that he would love to have some himself.
Other days, they painted or sketched together, sitting in parks and other public spaces as they worked in silence that went unbroken until one of them had finished. Those days often ended in sharing kisses when he walked her back to her apartment with a promise to see her again soon. She was learning to love the way he could make her blush with a look, and cause her heart to race by running a hand through her hair right before he kissed her.
“I would like for you to meet my family,” he said one evening when they were watching a film at her apartment. Once she had processed the words, she turned to look at him and took in his serious expression and nodded slowly. Some of the tension in his shoulders dissipated as he breathed out, the arm around her shoulders drawing her closer. “Richard has been asking to meet you and I know he will be thrilled to know you as well.”
“Okay, when were you thinking?” she asked. If he wanted them to meet within the next week it meant she would need to bake something rather than design.
“I was hoping you would agree to come back to where we are staying tomorrow,” he said, casually enough that she nodded before really taking in what he had said. When her jaw dropped open, he added helpfully, “And I would also like to introduce you to my biological parents afterwards.”
“You-” she began, a familiar feeling of panic crawling up her throat and closing off her words. “Damian, tomorrow?”
“They will all love you, Starling,” he promised, and the use of his nickname for her made her heart skip an extra beat even as she started trying to plan what desserts to make. “I do not want you to think that meeting any of them should be a greater trial than it is, so the sooner I can introduce you to Richard, the sooner you can be assured that he will adore you. He half loves you already due to the fact that I love you.”
As soon as the words passed his lips he stiffened, but he didn’t take them back. Marinette was struck completely dumb as she tried to process the fact that he’d just told her that he loved her. She needed to say something, anything, but did she-
“I love you, too,” she blurted out, panicking again when his breath caught and he turned to look at her. “I mean, if you meant it. Well, I love you even if you didn’t mean it, but if you’re not ready to hear that then we can just pretend-”
She was cut off when he leaned down and kissed her. The relief that she hadn’t screwed everything up made her grab onto his shirt tightly and pull him even closer, toppling backwards on the seat so that he was hovering over her while their kiss grew more heated. Time lost all meaning until his phone rang and they broke apart, both breathing heavily, and he moved to answer it.
“Yes, Richard, I’ll come home now,” he said in lieu of a greeting. Marinette could hear the man on the other end - Damian’s dad, who she was going to meet the next day - and he sounded like he was teasing Damian. It was easy to hear why Damian was so sweet and loving when she heard the obvious affection in his dad's voice.
“What time shall I be ready tomorrow?” she asked when he had hung up. His eyes flashed with happiness and they quickly planned out the next day so she could meet the important people in his life. In a way, it was a relief that he had already met and spent time with three of the most important people in her life because she wasn't sure how she would have coped with their teasing and protectiveness.
_ _ _
Marinette wiped her slightly sweaty hands on her jeans before gripping the hem of her shirt. Meeting Damian’s dad for the first time was nerve wracking. What if he didn’t like her? What if he thought she wasn’t good enough for Damian? What if he kicked her out and told her never to see Damian again? What if—
“Are you alright, Starling?”
She shook her hands out and grabbed his, intertwining their fingers as they stepped off the elevator together.
“I’m just…are you sure your dad wants to meet me?” she asked, biting her lip and turning to face him as they stopped outside his door.
Damian reached up and cupped her face with his free hand, releasing her lip from her teeth with his thumb. He leaned in, kissing her gently.
“I promise, Richard has been dying to meet you. He is annoyingly invested in all of my personal endeavours, doubly so when he thinks romance could be involved.”
“Okay. Okay, I think I'm ready,” she breathed, tightening her hold on his hand and letting him lead the way to his dad.
“...isn't a good time, Dami’s introducing me to someone and–” a man was saying, his dark hair looking like he'd run his hands through it a million times. Marinette looked at the screen he was talking to and froze at the person she saw on it.
“If I didn't think it was necessary, I wouldn't be asking you to come back,” Bruce Wayne growled. “But I do, because–”
“Bruce, it doesn’t matter what you need. Damian needs me today and the mission isn’t my priority anymore. It can’t be,” the man–Damian’s dad–said, sounding tired. Like he’d had this same conversation a million times before. His tone left no room for argument and Marinette felt an odd sense of longing for the devotion she could hear there. But she’d heard more than enough and she immediately started to move away from the scene.
“Damian, what–why is your dad talking to Bruce Wayne?” she asked quietly, dropping his hand as she took a step backwards.
“Bruce took Richard in as a child, and also had custody of me when I first went to America. He is a father-figure of sorts to Richard. I thought he was my father, but it turned out not to be true.”
“You’re–wait, you said your surname was Grayson not-” Marinette stumbled, her eyes wide as Damian frowned in confusion. “You’re–you’re Damian Wayne?”
“I used to be, though I must confess I did not think that would matter to you,” he replied slowly, and she noticed that his eyes were filled with concern, even as she began hyperventilating.
“I–I have to go. I can’t–I can’t meet him like this,” she said, hating herself for the wounded expression developing on his face, and backing away until she hit the doorframe. “I’m sorry.”
Damian was rooted to the spot as she ran from him. How had everything gone so wrong so quickly? He vaguely realised that Richard had paused his conversation with Bruce to find out why the door had slammed but he wasn’t really paying attention because in the next moment he was racing after her and heading towards the one place he believed she would be.
He grew concerned when he didn't cross paths with her, his legs far longer than hers so he should have caught her by now. But he continued on in the hopes that she was just very fast, and was rewarded when he caught up to her on her street. Catching her by the upper arm, she turned and stared at him with wide, full eyes.
“Starling, please, can we talk about whatever is bothering you?” he begged, cupping her cheek with his free hand and using his thumb to brush away her falling tears. “I am sorry for not informing you of my association with Bruce, I hadn't thought it would matter.”
“It's- stars, I don't-” she tried, flinching when a loud shout came from further up the street. “Let's g-go inside.”
The silence as they ascended the stairs in her apartment building was nearly suffocating, nothing like their comfortable silences on sunny afternoons or late at night. If possible, it worsened once they were actually inside the apartment, the usually warm and inviting space cold and dark.
“Marinette, what is going on? Why is my non-relation to Bruce Wayne an issue between us-”
“No, no, no, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening,” Marinette repeated as though she hadn't heard him as she paced around her living room, hands gripping her own hair by the roots and pulling hard enough that Damian thought she might pull some out.
Damian felt his own heart pounding as he watched her frantic movements, completely unsure why she was so upset or how to help her.
“Please, Starling, tell me what is wrong,” he pleaded, pulling her to him as she got close.
She looked up at him, eyes watery, then took his hands in hers.
“You were kidnapped as a baby, weren’t you? And then something happened later, when you were ten, and you were sent to live with Bruce Wayne?”
“How could you know that?”
Damian felt himself going numb but couldn't find a way to stop it. Her features became indistinct as did the room around him and he had to try to focus to hear her next words.
“My parents. They’ve always been distant, reluctant. They’ve never really wanted me. Their baby was taken from the hospital, and I was left in his place.” She squeezed his hands and he tried to squeeze back but he wasn't sure he succeeded when she gave a choked sob. “You are the first person who wanted me, and the only person I’ve ever thought had the right to hate me. You should hate me.”
He sat heavily on the sofa.
“I don’t understand,” he whispered, head hung in his hands. “Bruce has a child? And Tom and Sabine - my mother and father - raised you?”
“Yes,” she said back, voice tight. She didn’t try to bridge the gap between them and he couldn’t move towards her but he felt the distance sharply. “I’m so, so sorry, I can’t- I didn’t know.”
“You were unaware that Tom and Sabine were not your own parents?” he asked, head tilting because if that were the case she wouldn’t have reacted the way she had to finding out his previous surname.
“No, I knew that,” she corrected quietly. “I just- I knew their child was out there, somewhere, but I didn’t realise it was you. I stole your life.”
“You did nothing of the sort - Bruce and Talia made that decision for both of us. And if they hadn’t…Marinette, I don’t think I could live in a world where you had to endure what I did. I would rather go through that hell a million times over than see you have to go through a fraction of it,” he said with as much conviction as he could. His hand cupped her cheek as more tears fell from her eyes and she leaned into it with her eyes shut. “I love you, Marinette, with all of my heart. And if one of us had to experience being the child of Talia and Bruce, I’m glad it was me.”
The distance between them closed quickly and he kissed her with every ounce of feeling he could. He could have wept with relief when she responded just as fiercely, her hands threading into his hair and keeping him close.
_ _ _
Dick was bursting with excitement when Damian went to fetch his girlfriend to finally introduce them. He’d been a secretive little brat ever since he disappeared for hours on his birthday but Dick wasn’t stupid. He was fairly sure a romantic escapade had happened, and the fact that he kept disappearing to an apartment building in the artist’s arrondissement merely meant that he had to be seeing someone. Then he’d been proven right when Damian started talking about a young woman called Marinette.
He was also yet to meet the Dupain-Chengs, partially because Damian had seemed unsure about introducing one of the people who had raised him when they had lost him. But also partially because Dick wasn’t sure about them either. They’d never reported a missing child, and there was a daughter registered to their household until only a few days after they’d arrived in Paris. The whole thing just made him uneasy.
Damian hadn’t seemed to think anything was amiss with them when he had visited though, so Dick was going to keep his thoughts to himself until he had some sort of proof of what had happened. There could be a reasonable explanation as to why they hadn’t reported it…and taken in a different kid with the same birthday…
Shaking his head, he pushed all of those thoughts away because today was about Damian’s girlfriend. He didn’t have any information about her other than her address yet, because Damian had been insistent that he wait until they met, but he could just tell that she was a sweetheart because Damian was blatantly infatuated with her.
As the time he was expecting the couple to arrive approached, his phone started buzzing with an incoming call from Bruce. Frowning and declining the call the first time, he went to message the overbearing bat saying that he was busy, only for the phone to start ringing immediately again. Sighing in exasperation he accepted the video call, just to tell him that he wasn’t available.
“Bruce-” he began. But Bruce started speaking without waiting, typically.
“You need to leave Paris,” Bruce demanded, voice hard and unyielding as it always was when he was channeling his inner bat and his eyes flinty.
“Hi, Bruce, good to hear from you,” Dick said sarcastically, glaring back at him. “Also, no.”
“I need your help here in Gotham, Dick, or at least for you to be back in Bludhaven so Jason can come back and look after Crime Alley again,” Bruce tried again, voice softening slightly but face still tense.
“B, this really isn't a good time, Dami’s introducing me to someone and–” he began again, trying not to lose his temper. He was sure he just sounded tired, but Bruce cut him off again.”
“If I didn't think it was necessary, I wouldn't be asking you to come back,” Bruce growled, giving up on making his voice kinder. “But I do, because–”
“Bruce, it doesn’t matter what you need. Damian needs me today and the mission isn’t my priority anymore. It can’t be,” Dick said, waving away the excuses. Because that’s what they sounded like: excuses to get the pair of them out of Paris. He didn’t know why Bruce was so desperate to have them away from the area but an alarm bell was ringing in his head that it had something to do with Damian’s parents. “So whatever you need help with, find someone else. Clark would be happy to jump in, or Diana, I’m sure.”
“Dick, that isn’t-” Bruce said hotly, but Dick had become aware of movement in the outer part of their hotel suite and turned to face it, frowning. Someone sounded upset, like they were panicking, and then a door slammed and he muted Bruce to check it out.
“D, you okay?” he called as he entered the room, but Damian was staring at the closed door like it was about to open to an alien invasion. “Dames, what-”
But whatever was bothering him, Dick didn’t find out. Damian threw open the door and slammed it behind him as well, haring off after who he could only assume was Marinette. Groaning and twisting his slightly too long hair - he hadn’t been for a haircut since before China and it was getting rather shaggy - he turned back to the video call to get rid of Bruce.
“Jeez, I’ve got to go, B, I think I just missed the chance to introduce myself to Dames’ girlfriend,” he complained, pouting at his sort of father figure. “Man, do you know how hard it is to get him to even talk about Marinette? This better not make-”
“Marinette?” Bruce said, voice going completely tight and face twitching.
“Yeah, Damian’s girlfriend. I haven’t found out much about her yet but-” Dick began again, trying not to snap any more than necessary because getting into an argument with Bruce was never all that worth it.
“I have to go.”
Dick’s eyes narrowed as the video call ended and decided he needed to get ahold of Damian.
Chapter 7! @tree-reads and I are over half way through! @maribat-get-in
Link to AO3
Just friends
Waking up the day after her birthday was peaceful. Already past noon, with no smell of stale coffee or the faint wisps of pastry long since baked, Marinette was happily reminded that she no longer lived above the bakery. She wasn't the first one in their friend group to be living alone but it was the first day of the rest of her life and she was beyond ready to start living it.
Stretching out and checking her phone, she found that her friends had all messaged to see how she was doing. Message by message, she went down the list and let them know she was fine. The last message made her stop and blush, the night before slightly blurry but moments stood out in stark clarity.
Damian. She could remember his slightly uncertain look transforming into one that had left her breathless as the night wore on. Phantom pressure on her waist and hips made her shiver even now, and it took several minutes to compose herself enough to answer.
But what was she supposed to say to a guy she had met yesterday, danced with for hours, and shared the most amazing kiss with? Daylight and sobriety were fantastic tools for rekindling her anxiety and awareness that she wasn't really anything special. Maybe he was only so interested in her because he was foreign and, she might as well admit it, she hadn't exactly played hard to get. Things that had seemed like clear signs of interest the night before looked more like a lack of disinterest the following day.
She was dragged out of her spiral by a rapid fire knock on the door to the apartment. Ignoring the giggles of the various kwami, she jumped up from where she had immediately fallen out of bed and rushed to check who was visiting. It was a pleasant surprise to find Alya on the other side, carrying a takeaway cup of coffee and a sandwich bag from her favourite local shop, and she opened the door so quickly Alya jumped back from the door.
“Girl, last night was so fun! I know you said you were fine but I thought maybe a little pick-me-up would help with any hangover,” she said as she came into the apartment and set everything down on the kitchen counter. “So. Did your new wonder boy come in last night, or did you manage to remember you barely knew him?”
“Alya! I did not invite him in…we just kissed outside,” she admitted, grinning when Alya gave a squeal. Then her face fell and she took a sip of the coffee Alya had bought her to distract herself from her thoughts.
“Uh-oh, what’s that look for?” Alya asked, sympathy already firmly in place on her face.
“It’s nothing, I just don't know if he really liked me all that much,” she said quietly, blinking when Alya scoffed and trying to sort her feelings out. “Okay, maybe he did. I mean, he messaged this morning too, so I must have done something right. But, I don't know, it all feels kind of sudden. I think maybe I should just try to keep him as a friend.”
“Excuse me?” Alya said, clearly stunned. “Last night the two of you were inseparable and you looked at him like he hung the moon and stars. Your chemistry was explosive, and if he's already started messaging you after you didn't sleep with him then I'd say he feels pretty much the same way.”
“I know, and I haven't felt that sort of chemistry since I was hanging out with Blackbird,” she said as she ran a hand through her hair. It was part of the reason she had been intrigued by the young man with the brilliant eyes. “It was easy, and when he kissed me-”
“It was disappointing?” Alya prompted, clearly not understanding how anything else could have led to Marinette's decision to pump the brakes.
“Stars no, the opposite! I'm dying to kiss him again, to see if it was the alcohol or the fact that I was giddy to be out of Tom and Sabine's home, or if he's really just that perfect,” she groaned, head thumping onto the table in front of her as her face flushed at the memories of the night before. “But that's precisely why I can't! I need to settle myself and see what it's like as friends. Besides, he's not from around here and who knows when he would leave for the states again?”
Alya gave her a long, measured look but didn't argue. Marinette felt a part of her relax as she'd obviously made the right choice because Alya wasn't trying to convince her to give it a try, not like she had when she was trying to make Adrien and Marinette a couple.
Changing the conversation, they talked about their plans for autumn and Marinette admitted that she still wasn't sure if she wanted to go to university just yet. It wasn't that she didn't know what she wanted to do with her life, it was that she didn't know if school could teach her what she needed. And a small part of her - even smaller, now that she had met Damian - wanted to travel to America again, try to speak to Blackbird. Even as she thought on it again, she shied away from transforming even after a year.
By the time Alya left, it was mid afternoon and Marinette was completely resolved to be friendly with Damian but make it clear that that was as far as she could go. As much as the thought of kissing him again made her pulse flutter, she couldn’t get into a relationship at all while she was still figuring herself out.
With all of that in mind, she finally messaged him back, saying that she’d also had a wonderful time the night before and, maybe, would he like to meet up for a walking tour of Paris? She could tell him when they met that she wasn’t looking for a relationship and until then just treat him like someone she was getting to know. Because he was! And that’s all that mattered, because she liked him - as a friend - and wanted to keep him in her life.
His enthusiastic response that he would be thrilled to meet with her again left her feeling incredibly mushy, but she pushed the feelings away.
_ _ _
Damian breathed deeply as he stood outside Tom and Sabine’s boulangerie patisserie and tried not to let his panic overwhelm him. He was Blackbird, Richard Grayson’s adopted son, and Jonathan Kent’s cousin by blood. There was very little that he couldn’t do and meeting his birth parents was something he was capable of, even if a small part of him worried that he would be rejected summarily.
Before he could second guess himself any further, he pushed the door and almost flinched back when the tiny bell above it dinged. He was being ridiculous, Richard would be laughing himself silly if Damian had allowed him to be present for this first meeting. It was quiet in the bakery and the woman at the cash register aimed a customer service smile at him as he approached. His tongue felt too big for his head, his stomach roiling as he tried to say the words he had been rehearsing ever since he knew he had been taken by Talia and given to Bruce like a pet.
“Bonjour, may I help you with something?” the woman who could only be Sabine Cheng asked, her eyes light but with a wariness behind them. Damian had to swallow several times and only his severe training as a child prevented him from fidgeting as she looked at him.
“Hello, my name is Damian Gr-” he began, cutting off as he realised that she wouldn’t consider it his name. “My name is Damian. I wanted to speak to you because- because I believe you are my birth mother.”
Sabine’s eyes widened and she gave a soft scream as she covered her mouth with both hands. Instantly, a large man - is this where Damian’s sudden height had come from? - came running through from the kitchen, a rolling pin raised in his hand. Damian swallowed again as he looked up at Tom Dupain, hoping he would get the chance to explain.
“You- how did you get here?” Sabine whispered, coming out from behind the counter and reaching for his face. “Oh, we’ve missed you so much, xiǎo tiān shǐ.”
The endearment forced the lump in his throat to triple in size and he was suddenly holding back tears. These were the parents he was supposed to have, Tom dropping his rolling pin as he came forward to sweep him into a hug and Sabine stroking his face as she wept openly.
It took a lot more time for them to settle down and relax with each other, Damian overwhelmed by how much they were touching him and them clearly stunned by his sudden appearance. Their apartment was fairly sparse of pictures but he supposed that was only natural if he had been stolen away from them as he suspected.
By the time he left he felt wrung out emotionally and exhausted. But he also felt a sense of peace at finally knowing that his birth parents had wanted him. That they had missed him and were glad to have him back in their lives.
Richard was waiting for him as soon as he returned to their accommodations, perking up from where he was sitting and watching Damian’s face for signs of distress. When he apparently found none, he grinned brightly and leaped over to him to gather him in a hug.
“It went well?” he asked, ruffling Damian’s hair affectionately. Damian nodded and allowed a small smile to grace his face as he began to tell Richard everything he had learned that day. It was a weight off his shoulders as he talked about his plans for spending time with the bakers, and he couldn’t help but smile more broadly when he saw a reply from Jonathan, who he had messaged earlier that day to let him know what he was doing.
Richard gave him some space after they had spoken at length and he toyed with his phone as he read the most recent messages from Marinette. They had been speaking frequently over the past few days and he found he was craving the sound of her voice. There was something about her that soothed something in him, and at the same time sent anticipation surging in his veins.
Before he could overthink it, he dialled her number and waited patiently for her to pick up. When she did, she sounded slightly harried but not annoyed to be speaking to him in spite of her apparent rush.
“Damian!” she said, breathless and clearly juggling her belongings. “Hi, I was just - oh merde - I’m just on my way to meet a client - pardon me, I’m so sorry - but enough about me! Did you want something?”
“I wasn’t calling you for a particular reason,” he said, feeling a little guilty. “I apologise, perhaps I should call you another-”
“No! I mean, no, it’s fine, I like talking to you,” she said, sounding earnest. A bell sounded faintly on her end of the line and the sounds of a bustling café came through in a muffled way. “Oh, one second- yes, please could I have a café au lait with two shots of espresso and a pump of caramel? Thank you! - I’m already late, I just can’t survive this without getting my usual. So, are we still on for tomorrow? I have a bunch of my favourite places listed out for us to visit.”
“I am looking forward to it,” he murmured, sure that he was going to make a fool of himself before too long. He would be lucky to get through their date the next day without giving into temptation and kissing her. “Am I permitted to know what you have planned for us, or is it all to be a surprise?”
“A surprise, obviously,” she giggled, turning away again to accept the drink she had ordered gratefully. “Why, is there somewhere you want to add to the list?”
“No, so I suppose I shall leave the plan in your lovely hands,” he replied, pleased to hear her squeak. “How long until you are at your meeting?”
“I’m actually there now,” she said, and if he could see her he was almost certain she would be pouting. “But I’ll see you tomorrow? And maybe text you when I’m home again?”
Murmuring his goodbyes, he wondered if he was patient enough to wait for her to message him first.
_ _ _
Marinette was resolved. It didn’t matter that Damian was smart, witty, and gorgeous, she was capable of being his friend and telling him that. And she was definitely not going to turn into a puddle of mush just because he had an attractive smirk.
“Marinette, apologies for my tardiness,” Damian said as he approached from her left. She glanced at him, automatically smiling up at him before her brow furrowed as he thrust a coffee cup towards her. “I realise it is earlier than you normally begin texting so I thought you might appreciate a coffee. Café au lait, two espresso and one pump of caramel, correct?”
“It- yeah,” she stammered, holding onto it with two hands and gazing up at him in wonder. How had he known? “You heard me order it yesterday? And remembered it?”
“Tt, it was hardly difficult,” he said, though Marinette thought he was preening slightly at having managed to surprise her. And oh, wasn’t this precisely the issue she had been having with this? He was perfect. And she was just a woman who craved affection in the form of someone noticing the little things. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”
“Uncomfortable?” she asked, incredulous. “Damian, you got my coffee order right, after never having seen me order it, and I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone do that before. I don’t think some of my friends could get that order right and they’ve known me since maternelle. Merde, I don’t know if I can take this.”
“What do you-” he began, breaking off when she stepped forward and pressed her lips to his cheek. “So you are pleased?”
“Pleased? I’m in awe. Maybe we should sit down and talk about…us,” she hedged, biting the inside of her lip when he nodded. His face was so serious and concerned, she just wanted to kiss his worries away. Leading the way to a nearby bench, she took several sips from the coffee before looking him directly in the eye. “I really like you, Damian. An absurd amount for the fact that we’ve known each other for all of a week. If I’m honest, I wasn’t sure if dating you was a good idea because my life is such a mess and I didn’t know if I was ready for a relationship.”
“Oh. I take it you are considering otherwise now?” he said, nodding like everything was going swimmingly while she was having a minor crisis.
“You got my favourite coffee,” she half shrieked, half cried. She was sure it seemed a silly thing to be hung up on but it was the only thing she could really think about without grabbing hold of his gorgeous face and kissing him until she couldn’t breathe. Taking a deep breath and trying again, she fiddled with the cup to occupy herself. “Like I said, I like you a lot. Having said that…I think we should take things slowly, because if this is going to work I’m going to need to know that we aren’t just going to burn out. Okay?”
“That seems reasonable,” he agreed, hesitating for only a moment before taking hold of her hand so that she was holding her coffee in just the one. “If we are being completely honest with one another, I am also going through some changes in my life and I would be disappointed if things went poorly between us because we hurried into things. But for today perhaps we can continue with the tour you had planned?”
Chapter 6 of @tree-reads and my AU! @maribat-get-in
Link to AO3
A Crepe-tastic Meeting
Damian’s week had been so filled with sightseeing and activities that he scarcely found enough time to sleep. Between the various museums, a tour around Notre Dame, and a walk through Paris’s catacombs, he was mostly dreading two full days and a half at Disneyland. But he had made a deal with Richard and he was determined to get the afternoon and evening of his birthday to himself.
On the final morning that they had tickets to Disneyland, Richard was being annoyingly persistent in his quest to have Damian complete a variety of ‘standard kid things’. No amount of reminding him that he was officially now eighteen seemed to sway the excitable man, so Damian put up with it for the most part. But there were certain things that he was putting his foot down on and refused to budge.
“No, Richard, I do not want to meet an Avenger,” he grit out, pinching the bridge of his nose. He supposed it was time to humiliate himself in the interests of preventing further issues. “If you insist on forcing one of these character meetings, I will only accept one. People dressing up and pretending to be heroes does not appeal to me but…I might be convinced to stand still for long enough that you may have a picture of me with Stitch.”
The number of pictures Richard took was absurd, though Damian was pleased to see one of them had turned out fairly well in spite of his ever present scowl. It took very little effort to send it to Jonathan, who responded at lightning speed that he was sorry he had missed it and threatened future excursions at the American Disney parks.
Finally, Damian was free to spend his afternoon in the manner of his choosing, and he headed straight for a park that held a statue of Ladybug and Chat Noir. It was the first of the tributes the city had made to the heroes, and Damian felt a pang of melancholy go through him as he looked upon how young she was. He had been a child soldier as well, but it was something else to see someone he had met when she was older, immortalised as a heroine in statue form.
He was almost tempted to go into the bakery opposite to introduce himself to the owners, but he held back. Today wasn’t about putting himself into an awkward situation in the hopes that they would be happy to see him, it was about celebrating the person he had become regardless of the trials he had been through. So instead he walked away, putting distance between them as he headed for the artist’s arrondissement.
By the time he was hungry, he had limited options on where to go for food. He managed to snag a pastry from a street vendor, but wanted to get something as a birthday treat so headed for a creperie that was open. It was cooler in the building and he seated himself as he looked at a menu before glancing around the room to people-watch.
There were a handful of people scattered around the room, the majority being young families and a couple of older people who were gazing lovingly at each other over their food. The only exception was a young woman with midnight black hair on the table next to him, who was currently being served a plate of crepes. He was fascinated as she pulled a candle out of a small bag she had to the side and stabbed it into the top of the pile.
There was a moment where she seemed to frown into the same bag, not quite emptying it but also not finding what she was looking for. As she started patting down her pockets, Damian reached into his own and pulled out the lighter he always carried. It was a practical thing, to be able to set things on fire when needed, such as lighting solitary candles sitting in a stack of crepes.
“Here, I have this if you need it?” he offered quietly, and she looked at him with a smile. Their fingers brushed as she accepted it and a spark seemed to jump from her to him. She thanked him quietly and got to work lighting the candle before screwing up her eyes and blowing it out again. “Did you make a wish?”
“Yes, but if I tell you what I wished for it won’t come true,” she said, holding the lighter back out to him but he didn’t reach for it quite yet. He wasn’t sure he was ready for the interaction to end, which surprised him. “Thank you for this. I was sure I’d packed one of my own, but it appears I forgot.”
“It is your birthday? Or just a very odd ritual of your own?”
“My birthday,” she confirmed, giggling at his joke. “Just a silly tradition of mine, so you providing the lighter makes you my hero today.”
“That is an exceedingly low bar, but as I am celebrating my own birthday alone-”
“It’s your birthday too? Then we must light it again for you!” She relit the candle, eyes warm and bright with excitement, and he found he didn’t want to say no. He humoured her, closing his eyes and making a small, inconsequential wish and blowing the tiny flame out.
“You said this is a tradition, do you usually spend your birthday alone?” he asked, realising as he said it that he sounded every bit the condescending, heartless jerk that Timothy often accused him of being. But rather than get upset, she laughed again as she shook her head.
“I use the term tradition very loosely,” she admitted, leaning towards him and biting her lip before continuing. “It’s actually the first year I’m doing it, but I hope it becomes a tradition. Today seems like the best day to start something new. Big eighteen, you know? Besides, my friends are joining me for a night out on the town after this. I’m the youngest by a few months so they’ve been waiting to go out for a while.”
“It sounds like you have an exciting evening ahead of you,” Damian said with just a hint of interest in his voice, though not enough that he would sound desperate for company. Because he wasn’t, not at all. He’d asked for the evening to himself for a reason after all.
“I hope so,” she agreed, her teeth worrying her lower lip. It made an indent that fixed his attention, making him almost miss her next soft words. “I mean, it’s your birthday too, right? And you don’t look younger than eighteen…”
“It is my eighteenth,” he agreed, forcing his eyes to meet hers. He felt a small thrill when she smiled at him and leaned over conspiratorially, her crepes forgotten.
“Do you want to join us? It would be five of us altogether,” she said, the words rushing out of her slightly in her eagerness. “We’re going dancing, mostly, maybe sharing a bottle of wine or something.”
Damian was silent for a moment. He hated the idea of spending time around strangers, and people who had been drinking, but the idea of dancing with the woman was oddly enticing. He warred internally before Richard's voice spoke quietly in the back of his mind: Live a little, Dames. You only get to turn eighteen once.
“Yes,” he said as he leaned further in. “I think I would like that. I’m Damian, by the way, Damian Grayson.”
“Marinette,” she said, smiling brightly. It seemed perfect for her and he smiled as she was startled by her phone ringing. “Oh, that’s one of my friends! They must be nearby…did you want to finish your crepes before we go?”
Her head tilted as she looked down at the table, likely realizing the only plate in front of them was hers.
“It’s alright, I hadn’t quite gotten around to ordering them,” he said, his mouth lifting on one side. She blushed lightly and nodded, dropping a few euros down before standing and waiting for him to join her. He rose slowly from his own seat before indicating that she led the way to wherever they were going.
“Marinette Lanoir!” a blond man crowed when they stepped onto the street. Marinette squealed and threw herself towards him while two others stood laughing at the side. Damian’s stomach twisted slightly as the man caught her in his arms and spun her around, unfamiliar feelings he could only assume were jealousy and disappointment mingling together, settling under his skin. “Happy birthday, Princess.”
“You said that earlier,” Marinette laughed, placing a finger to the tip of the man’s nose and pushing him back. And then she was turning back to Damian and taking hold of his arm to drag him forward. “Damian, this is Adrien–my brother. Adri, this is Damian, my hero this evening who’s going to join us.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” Damian managed to say, in spite of the heady rush of relief that he hadn’t anticipated. He was her brother, there was no need for petty things like jealousy. It alarmed him, though, that he’d felt like that after knowing her for less than an hour.
“Hero, huh?” Adrien said, a Cheshire smirk on his face. Damian recognised it as the same look that Dick got when Damian interacted with someone attractive his own age and felt the urge to look away. He suppressed it, and instead looked toward Marinette, enjoying the pretty blush rising on her cheeks. “Glad to have you on board, Damian, now let’s get this party started!”
Dancing the Night Away
Damian grimaced as he entered the club behind Marinette and her friends, instantly reminded of why he would not ordinarily attend events such as these. One of the benefits of no longer being a Wayne was his ability to avoid large gatherings and this was so much worse than any of the galas he had been forced to attend previously. But then Marinette was taking his arm and suddenly the noise didn’t seem quite as oppressive.
He could see her mouth moving but she was turned mostly away from him and that made it all but impossible to discern the words. The questioning look she shot him afterwards made it a little easier to work it out - as did them arriving at their destination of the bar. Shrugging because he didn’t know what on earth he could possibly drink, he was shortly handed a glass of cider that tasted more like fruit than anything else.
The drink vanished more quickly than Damian realised and then Marinette was pulling on his arm again, towards the loud, writhing mass of people. Stomach churning slightly, he stood close to her as she danced, his own hands somewhere in the region of her waist. He tried to be mindful of keeping them there, but he was being jostled from all sides and Marinette was flowing to the beat of the music at such a pace that he couldn’t be sure that he was as respectful as he would have liked.
Dancing with her was like trying to keep hold of a live flame, and the heat in Damian’s body felt as though it matched. As she smiled up at him, with sparkling eyes that were practically filled with stars, he blocked out everything around them and his focus zeroed in on everything about her. The faint sheen on her skin, her hands on his chest burning through his shirt, leaving their imprint even as they traveled up to play with the tips of his hair. The way her lips moved to the words of the song that was playing, shimmering with a coat of lipgloss that Damian wanted to see smudged with an intensity that took his breath away.
Somewhere the music changed slightly, becoming darker and more fluid than the techno that had been playing until that point. It was unlike anything Damian had heard before but Marinette continued to move sinuously in his arms. The drink had made its way into his system now and he grew less careful with his own movements; his hands moved her by the waist, trailed down the outside of her hip to rest on her thigh where her skirt ended and he could feel the heat from her leg against his fingertips.
He didn’t think it was possible for her to press closer to him but she did, her breath now tickling his neck in a way that left his mind empty of anything except her. He couldn’t even hear the music anymore, so focused was he on the pulse that thrummed in his veins and the way she fit into him like a missing puzzle piece. Time passed, with Marinette’s friends showing up sporadically to offer her drinks that she split with him.
It felt like an eternity and no time at all when Marinette’s friends came over for a final time to say they were going home, and did she want them to walk her back to her apartment. Damian started as he realised he had been dancing for well over two hours and Richard was probably expecting him back sooner than this. Checking his phone, he winced at the three missed calls and innumerable texts that Richard had left for him, although the last one had a screenshot of Damian’s location, a question mark, and said ‘Have fun…?’.
“I do not mind seeing Marinette home,” Damian said after Marinette assured them several times that she would be fine. He wasn’t perfect at reading peoples’ facial expressions but he was fairly sure the other three were not overly enthused with the idea. “And I can tell you all where my dad and I are staying at the moment, should you need to find me.”
“I don’t know-” the blond man, Adrien, began, giving Marinette a worried look, but she cut him off.
“Oh come on, I don’t need to be walked anywhere,” she said firmly, though the steeliness in her gaze seemed to falter as she glanced at him. “Not that I’m saying no…”
“Girl, be serious-”
“Dudette, no-”
“Stop! Damian can see me home and I’ll message you as soon as I’m in, okay? If you don’t hear from me in an hour, you can come looking for me.”
Damian waited for the verdict, unsure of why he was so anxious to walk her home when her friends were perfectly capable. Or perhaps anxious was the wrong word, because it wasn’t nerves exactly that made his breath short and his palms sweat when she turned back to him and dragged him away from them. It was a short, quiet walk to her apartment building and Damian was practically burning with an unfamiliar urge to hold her.
“Sorry about them, they’re very protective of me,” she said quietly as they came to a stop, lips scrunching in a pout. He didn’t have the necessary defences and brain function to prevent himself from reaching for them and smoothing them out. She stilled completely the moment his fingers brushed her chin and he realised, belatedly, that he might have crossed a line. But when he started to pull back hastily she pulled on his shirt to stop him, unbalancing him enough that he stumbled towards her.
He wasn’t entirely sure how he ended up with one hand braced against the building they’d been walking next to but he had a much closer view of those gorgeous eyes he’d been entranced with all night. Her lips were still parted and his balance must still have been off because he was tilting towards her without any real intention to do so.
Her lips tasted of strawberries and he lost himself in the way they fitted against his perfectly. One hand stayed braced above her head but the other cupped her cheek and tilted her head ever so slightly. He hadn’t known what to expect, hadn’t thought that it would be so intense and leave him reeling, but it was like he needed to kiss her to be able to breathe.
Compared to other kisses he’d experienced he found himself getting drunk on the electricity that built between them. And when he tilted her head further she yielded easily, mouth parting enough that he could taste the last drink they had shared on her tongue before it gave way to something that could only be her.
He pulled away when he had to breathe and something inside him preened at the sight of her lips swollen and red, no lip gloss in sight. She had apparently been standing on her toes to meet him part way because she fell back to her heels, breathing every bit as hard as he was. Her cheeks were bright but her eyes had darkened almost completely, the irises widening with only a thin band of blue ringing them.
“I- that was-” he stuttered, alarmed at his inability to articulate himself coherently. In his defence, most of his thoughts revolved around leaning down and kissing her again, and he swallowed hard before pushing back to give her a fraction more space.
“Incredible?” she offered, the red from her cheeks spreading immediately as she ducked her head in embarrassment. He nodded before realising that she wasn’t looking at him and gently pressing his fingers to her chin to make her look up again.
“Yes, that word seems…almost adequate,” he said with a small smile that she returned. “May I give you my number? I have no intention to leave Paris for the time being and I enjoyed your company immensely this evening.”
“I’d like that,” she beamed shyly, taking his number before disappearing into the building. He hesitated another few minutes before shaking himself and finding his path back to the hotel.