No Longer Brand New Writing Blog

In an effort to stop having to link multiple times in each fic post, I’m going to try to keep all links archived here. I’m considering doing an additional post to catalogue each story’s tag list in a public space, where people can check if they’re already tagged for something or not. If that sounds cool to you let me know!

This post will be pinned at the top of my blog and updated each time I post something!

The Road Rises to Meet You (soulmate au redux)

(daminette, jondrien, chlogami)

AO3  ||  Part 1  ||  Part 2  ||  Part 3  ||  Part 4  ||  Part 5  ||  

Part 6  ||  Part 7  ||  Part 8  ||  Part 9

Soulmate AU

(daminette, jondrien, chlogami)

Part 1  ||   Part 2  ||   Part 2.5   ||   Part 3   ||   Part 4   ||   

Part 5   ||   Part 6   ||   Part 7   ||   Part 8   ||   Part 9   ||   

Part 10   ||   Part 11   ||   Part 12   ||   Part 13   ||   Part 14   ||   

Part 15   ||   Part 16 ALTangst   ||   Part 16   ||   Part 17   ||   Part 18   ||   

Part 19   ||   Part 20   ||   Part 21   ||   Part 22   ||   Part 23   ||   

Part 24   ||   Part 25   ||   Part 26   ||   Part 27   ||   Part 28  ||  

Part 29  ||  Part 30

Black Cats and Robinettes

(daminette, role reversal AU)

Part 1  ||   Part 2   ||   Part 3   ||   Part 4

Fake Dating AU

(daminette)

Part 1   ||   Part 2   ||   Part 3   ||   Part 4   ||   Part 4.5   ||   

Part 5  ||  Part 6  ||  Part 7  ||  Part 8

Akumanette

(gen, jason+marinette siblings, akumatized marinette)

Part 1  ||   Part 2   ||   Part 3   ||   Part 4   ||   Part 5

Drabbles/Oneshots (as of right now)

A Bird In the Hand  (chlodamian)

Party Games  (daminette)

Blind Date  (daminette)

Changeling  (undecided)

First Crush  (timari, one-sided daminette)

Christmas Spirit  (gen)

    Revenge (gen, continuation) 

Me, Choosing You  (LINK LEADS TO AO3)(jasonette, mythology au)

This Isn’t My Idea of Fun  (daminette, childhood enemies (sort of) au)

Looked Like You Needed An Out (timari, secret dating au)

Do You Love Me? (daminette, character death)

Java Jive (timari, coffee shop au)

Words Fail (jasonette, body art soulmate au)

Heist (daminette, miraculous thief au)

Are u good?

❤️❤️❤️ cheek kisses and hugs anon, it turned out I WAS having a pretty severe reaction to the meds (which was difficult for me to figure out because of bad reaction involving no ability to think coherently) and I had to spend some time in the hospital but after recovering from that it is at least apparent now that I’m actually healing up really well from the surgery itself!! I have not died I promise. I AM sorry for leaving what I can see is a worrying message and not clarifying that I was ok later but in my defense I umm. Did not even remember that I had made that post

oh boy I just LOVE a good betrothed story ESPECIALLY with the double whammy of thinking your fiance was dead. Thank you!!!!!!

***** “I’ve got eyes on the new one,” Damian relayed into his comm, staring down at where the shadowed figure was- calmly tying up the two muggers he’d been seconds from dropping down and stopping himself.

Except that the figure looked up at him as he spoke, and he sucked in a breath, displeased. They must have some sort of amplified hearing ability- which leant towards Drake’s theory that they were a meta. They didn’t look away, blue feline eyes shining with streetlight reflections and Damian made a decision. “They spotted me. Seems to be waiting. I’m going to speak to them.”

In his ear, multiple voices protested but he turned the comm down to an ignorable level. They seemed familiar, the way they held themselves. The way they watched him. He dropped down, first to a window, then a balcony, then an awning, and then he was in front of her.

He took in the tiger motif for all of a second before he gasped her name, suddenly feeling breathless. It couldn’t be. “Marinette?”

She stilled, eyes narrowed at him, and he waited, desperate for confirmation. And then they widened, recognition like a wave crashing between the two of them. “Damian?”

He lunged for her as soon as he heard her voice, it was her, it was her, and she wrapped her arms around his waist as he grabbed her by the shoulders, holding her close to him once again. He had thought she was dead. He had left her for dead. He had mourned her.

“Robin!” A voice jolted him back to awareness, and he looked up to see Red Hood, barreling out of an alley, ready to fight.

Instinctively, Damian spun, swinging Marinette behind him as his hands came up to ready position, the muscle memory of training with his betrothed at his back coming to him without effort, still as natural as breathing. Behind him, Marinette almost hissed, but he held up a hand and she stopped. She still understood him like this. She still trusted him.

“Hood, stand down,” Damian ordered, turning his comm back up to hear everyone yelling at him. “All of you, stand down. She isn’t a threat.”

The next person to land in the street was his Father, and Damian made an effort to relax from his defensive pose, feeling Marinette do the same beside him.

“Explain,” Batman ordered, voice low. Damian took a breath, for once discomposed, wondering where to even start.

“My name is Shere,” Marinette said before he could try, stepping up to Damian’s side. He can’t stop himself from shooting her a look, remembering when she told him she’d rather be the tiger than ladybug. “And I’m your son’s betrothed.”

Damian turned the volume back down in an instant, still feeling assaulted by the sound that blasted from the earpiece. He winced at the amount of talking to his siblings this development would require, but Marinette’s hand was still in his, clinging tight despite her projected air of confidence. “I thought she was dead.” He said, hearing everyone shut up to hear what he’s saying.

“I thought you were dead,” she said, head turning back to him so fast he thought she should have whiplash. “You were the one who got shot.”

“The building fell on you!” He shouted back, the anger building under his skin and buzzing. “This whole time you’ve been okay?”

“And you’ve been gallivanting around Gotham as Robin?” She pointed her finger in his face, stepping closer. “I’ve been trying to forget you for seven years! I thought we were going to get out together, D- Robin,” She stumbled over his name, stopping herself at the last. “And I mourned you and I tried to move on and you were just… across the ocean.”

“You wanted to forget me?” The words felt like a punch, worse than anything else. “I couldn’t.”

“I couldn’t either,” She sniffed, eyes still narrowed in anger but with tears beginning to gather along her lashes. He took her hand in both of his, lowering it between them.

Jason interrupted any answer he might have made. “As bafflingly sweet as this is, what the actual fuck.”

***** Taglist!

SCREAM listen there's nothing like a good end of the world, "we might die tonight" kinda kiss, I LOVE this. Do I know anything about what this final battle is? No, but we're going to assume it's looking pretty bad! Thanks Hawkmoth!!

*****

“Kiss me like the world is going to end.”

“Excuse me?”

Marinette leaned a little further over the edge of the roof they were on, staring down at the desecrated streets below. “I don’t actually know if I’m going to win this one, Damian,” She said, voice small, her hands clenched until her knuckles turned white. “Even if we go back, he has the Miracle Box. He has Adrien, and almost everyone in Paris. If we don’t manage to find him-”

Damian grabbed her arm, spinning her around. The look in his eyes blazed, something brighter than the fires still smoldering or the sunset behind them or the hope she had left. She raised her face to him, challenging.

The first kiss was quick, an almost hesitant press of their lips together as he watched her, eyes unnervingly open and never leaving her, like she might pull away or take it back. They both stilled, the space between them too small to even breathe.

And then Marinette laughed, and pulled him back down, surging onto her tiptoes to get the angle right. He chased the laughter, fitting their mouths together and reminding her what she had asked for.

Each point of contact felt like burning, each moment seemed to last an eternity, and she could feel the desperation in the way he curled one arm around her waist and almost crushed her against him, the way the fingers curled around her jaw pressed hard enough to bruise even as the pad of his thumb swept feather-light over her cheek, the way he kissed her like she was a last breath before drowning and she kissed back like she’d let herself drown if her last breath saved him. They both pulled away for air, hands shaking against all the places they held each other, knowing it could be the last time even as they smiled for the other. He leaned in one more time, this kiss barely ghosting over her lips, like a goodbye.

“We’ll win,” He told her, softly, assuredly. She ignored the fear in his voice, in her heart.

“We’ll win,” She echoed, trying to let herself believe it.

***** Taglist!

I'll be the first to admit that I know next to nothing about either of them except for what I read in Maribat fics, so I flipped a coin and got Roynette. That being said, I still feel reasonably confident this is sweet enough to enjoy even if I got him entirely wrong!

*****

“What if you stayed?” Roy was only half aware of the words coming off his tongue, sleep-addled and drowsy. In his arms, Marinette rolled over just enough to look at him.

“For one, I’d have to renounce being Guardian and lose my memories from the age of twelve until now.” Her eyes were still heavy and trying to close, so she could be asleep for another ten minutes. “Roy. I’m going to Tibet to train. I’ll be safe, I’ll be protected, and I’ll come home.”

“It’s five years,” He said, pulling her in against his chest and tucking her head beneath his chin. “At least five years. I’m just…”

“Scared?” Marinette asked softly, and he didn’t want to admit it, but he was terrified. That something would happen to her without him, that he might die without her, that she might see him again in five years and realize she wasn’t in love with him after all. All of it, all at once, with several other fears sprinkled in like nightmare seasoning.

“I don’t want to lose you, and it feels like I am,” he said. It was not the right thing to say, and he could see it in the way her eyes lit up angry.

“You won’t ever lose me,” She pulled back far enough to look up at his face, her expression thunderous. “Roy. I’m going to miss you more than anything in my life. If I could stay without losing all of my memories, I would, I would choose you over this a hundred times. Every time. But we’ve searched for a way, and we can’t. So I’m going to go to Tibet, and you had better be here, waiting for me, or so help me god I will bring you back and kill you again.”

She lifted one hand to his face, both as comfort and to hold him there, staring into her eyes. There was no room for argument in tone, no space for doubt. She was the one who pulled him down into a gentle kiss, unrushed, unhurried, as if they had all the time in the world.

“I love you,” He told her. She smiled, delighted.

“I love you too,” She said back, just as sure as the first time she’d said it. He wrapped her back into his arms, and she folded herself back against him willingly, using his arm as a pillow. “I don’t know if it’s even possible, but I’ll sneak out somehow. I’ll come see you, or I’ll call, or- I don’t want to lose you, either.”

***** Taglist!

good god, this one twisted my brain a bit. content warning for graphic depictions of violence// Marinette gets stabbed in the arm and describes other wounds on her body? I cast Talia and the League as our kidnappers, because why not?

Hope it's what you wanted!!

***** Marinette’s hands scrabbled over the blood soaked stones, desperately searching for the other earring.

“Come out, little Ladybug,” the woman’s voice crooned, the sound slapping harshly against the walls of the cave. “You’re in here. I can hear you. The sound of your breathing, so light- that’ll be the blood loss, the way you’re gasping. You’re stumbling and dizzy-“

The echo and the unbalance in Marinette’s head, the rush of blood down one side of her head drowning everything out- she couldn’t tell where the woman was, but she was close. Too close.

“Found you,” Talia’s voice said coldly, right as Marinette’s hand stabbed itself against the other earring.

She heard the blade more than she felt it, at this stage, the way it slid into her arm and pinned it. The sight made her so nauseous, the way it entered and exited and tore through the muscle-

With difficulty, she lifted the pinned hand, and plucked the earring out. Talia hissed behind her, but Marinette was already bringing it to her face.

Her ear was a torn mess from where the earring had been ripped out. Without a second to think, she plunged the earring through the soft skin of her nose. She didn’t even feel it, but she knew the moment it was in.

“Spots on,” she gasped out. Tikki couldn’t even register the state of her holder before she was sucked into the tiny jewels, one in her ear lobe and the other now prominently in her nostril. The rush of power was exhilarating, even if she knew it was temporary. She wrenched her arm down, following the blade even as the light enveloped her, and used the other hand to tug it out with a grimace. When the brightness fades, she faced Talia al Ghul with her own knife. “You will tell me what you’ve done to Damian.”

“Perhaps I was wrong.” Talia’s eyes were still frigid, analyzing. “There is some strength in you.”

“Where. Is. He.”

Talia smiles viciously. “Nowhere you will ever be able to find him, little Ladybug. My Prince will take his place.”

“I’ll die first,” Damian says, and Marinette sags with relief as he brings down a rock on his mother’s head. And then the transformation fails, and she collapses.

“Marinette!” Tikki cries out as Damian tries to catch her, and she manages to fall into his arms. “She’s pretty badly hurt, Damian, she needs-”

Marinette wrenched herself up, close enough to crash her lips into his. She could taste her own blood, and she was sure he could too, but he kissed her back anyway, at first just as desperate, and then softer, turning the kiss into just the hushed press of his lips against hers, moving to her cheeks, her eyes, her brow. “I thought I lost you.” She felt the last of the resolve holding her together weaken, curling up further into his arms. She’d found him, and they were both out.

“I’m not letting go of you easy,” Marinette said, though the effect was slightly ruined by her bloodstained- everything. “I’m not going to die, Tikki, I’ve had worse.”

Tikki huffed, but stayed silent.

He brushed one last kiss against her forehead, before standing carefully, moving her gently to hold her almost bridal style in his arms. “I assume you left your way out clear?”

“I assume no one was left to go after you?” She shoots back.

He gives her the dumbest, sappiest look she’s ever seen on him. She can’t even tease him about it, because she knows she’s got the same dumb sappy look on her face.

“Try to rest,” he says, and she closes her eyes compliantly, content and trusting him to get her out. “I’ll get you home soon.”

“I’m with you, aren’t I?” She mumbles, brain already shutting down to sleep. ***** Taglist!

airport kiss~ I LOVE this. It's sweet and silly and good!! Somehow, I could see it being a fitting ending for Road Rises when it eventually ends- because it would probably end with Marinette moving to Gotham post graduation, let's be real.

also!!! as a PSA, I will ALWAYS take requests and prompts. it says so on my blog! I just wanted to make sure people know that I didn't open that up for my birthday- it's encouraged always. My birthday was just extra publicity for that fact.

*****

Damian had tried to tell her she didn’t have to fly, but she’d insisted, saying that she had to have some sort of send off from Paris. He’d capitulated. But she almost regretted it now, searching the Gotham International for any familiar heads. She’d assumed Alfred would pick her up, but then Dick had accidentally texted her about plans to pick her up, and Tim had denied everything when she texted him, and Damian had been equally suspiciously quiet. She’d snuck out of the gate to find out, but had ended up finding absolutely no one. She’d checked the news in concern and found with a sigh that a bank had blown up an hour earlier, vigilantes on site.

So she sat down with a sigh, thinking about the best course of action. It was only then that she saw a familiar face come in one of the entrances.

Damian, rushing and here. She grinned, standing back up and diving into the crowd, almost running towards him while keeping herself out of his line of sight. He was getting more agitated, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek as she got right behind him and saw him pulling his phone out.

Her phone went off with the birds chirping sound he had told her not to set for his notification. He spun around just as she reached him and she threw herself into his arms, barrelling against him and making him stumble back, one foot moving to brace them as he spun a bit with her momentum.

She kissed him, or he kissed her, or they’d been kissing since the moment he caught her possibly- she wasn’t concerned about it as much as she was concerned with being able to kiss him again. He was laughing at her as she finally let herself collapse against him.

“It’s only been two months, habibti,” He murmured, and she could hear people’s voices and see the flashes of cameras, but her whole world was just her and Damian right then. “Are you that excited to be living here?”

“I’m excited to see you, Damian,” She grinned back, watching the honest words fluster him more than their flirting ever did, turning his cheeks pinker even as he kept smiling down at her. “What, does that surprise you? And here I thought you wanted me to want to be here.”

He kisses her again, once on the lips, against her cheekbone, on the temple. “I am ecstatic that you’re here. Let’s get you home, so you can be somewhere here that isn’t in an airport surrounded by people.”

She loosened her grip around him, appeased. “I suppose that by home you mean the manor, not my apartment that I told you I’m not giving up?”

She’d been emphatic that she wouldn’t be staying at the manor, no matter what he insisted, asked, pleaded, or cajoled. He’d argued but eventually given up, even if he never truly gave in. “Everyone wants to see you,” He said, as if it wasn’t a carefully calculated measure to entice her into staying the night, whereupon everyone would try to convince her to stay in the manor.

“They can see me tomorrow,” Marinette said, grabbing her bag and his hand as he reached for the handle on her carry on. “Personally, I’d like to have a quiet first night in. I thought we agreed that your family also counts as being surrounded by people.”

He gave that thought some consideration. “They might sneak in.”

“They won’t,” Marinette assured, remembering the texts she’d sent. “And if they do, you can chase them off and I’ll help you.”

He brought their entwined hands up to his mouth, kissing the back of her hand. “Alright, fine, since you’re so dead set on not living with me.”

She stopped suddenly, his grip on her yanking him to a stop too. “Hang on, I never said I don’t want to live with you. I just said I’m not moving into the manor.”

He stared at her, like the words were clicking in his head for the first time. “Then we should head there first. You can say hello to everyone, and I’ll grab my things.”

She stared back, bemused. “Yes, alright. Fine. This isn’t a trick?”

“I didn’t care about whether you were in the manor,” He said, pulling her forward again. “I wanted you with me. So yes, if I can stay with you, I will.”

“You’re infuriating,” She informed him. “We’ve been arguing about this for weeks.”

“You never said you wanted me to live with you,” He shrugged, unconcerned as if it was her problem that he’d been arguing the wrong side for weeks. “If you had said that the problem was the manor, I’d have offered to find us somewhere else long before you started looking for an apartment.”

She laughed. “Okay. To the manor, and then- home?”

He leaned back in to give her one more kiss. “And then home.”

***** Taglist!

ahahahaha, MORE secret relationship? don't mind if i do....

this was the last prompt I have so far guys, so feel free to send more! it's only seven o'clock for me, and the night is still young! if youve already gotten one in, feel free to send another! if you haven't yet... well why not? I'm in the mood to provide free fic! Come ask for something!!!

*****

“We said we wouldn’t, after last time,” Marinette reminded him, eyes narrowed and checking the hallways as they scurried away from the cafeteria and the assembly on villain attack protocols. His hand tightened in hers, and she barely had time to grin as he spun her back around, his arms settling around her like he wouldn’t care if anyone saw them.

She leaned back against the wall, her hands coming up to rest on his chest. “Seriously, this is why they think we’re fighting.”

Neither of them had intended to start rumours about their relationship- which is to say, neither of them had expected the relationship, and they’d both agreed to keep it secret. The Waynes got targeted often enough that if they advertised the fact that they were dating, she’d probably be next on the list of important hostages in Gotham. Even if they both knew she could take care of herself, it was easier to just keep it a secret at school.

And if someone had seen Marinette pushing Damian up against the wall once and misunderstood her intentions, well. It was much funnier to watch the rest of their school try to figure out why they ‘didn’t like each other’. The way they chose sides and decided to support their rivalry had become hilarious.

“Everyone is in the assembly talking about where the gas masks can be found in case of emergency,” Damian said, his lips teasing against her cheek. She turned her face away, teasing.

“And what if a teacher sees us? Or somebody’s in the halls to use the bathroom? Or they’re sneaking away to make out, like us-” She gets cut off by a fierce kiss, and stops bothering with banter as her knees go a little weak. Her hands ball up in his shirt until she’s practically clinging to him, one of his hands sliding up to cradle against her neck and the curve of her cheek. He pulls away slowly, eyes dancing as he takes in exactly how out of breath he left her.

“Frankly, they’re free to tell whomever they wish. Who’s going to believe them now that the whole school thinks we hate each other?” He leans in again, this kiss softer, the pad of his thumb caressing softly against her cheekbone. She leans into the warmth of his hand as he leaves her without the warmth of his lips again.

“At least take me somewhere nice first,” She laughs, and she disentangles herself to lead them both somewhere distinctly less nice but far more private. The keys on the hook behind the door are in her hands and locking them in, and then Damian is pulling her back again, and she lets him.

“I figured we’ll be able to tell them someday,” He says, taking a moment to just hold her close. “Not that I care for anyone’s individual opinion, but I wouldn’t hide you away if it wasn’t…”

He doesn’t say necessary, or for the best, or anything that would be equally true. They both know they aren’t ashamed of each other. It’s simply the safest, easiest option for both of them right now. She sighs, before pulling him back down into another long kiss. He gives his attention back to her instead of the conversation eagerly, and it’s several minutes before she manages to think about words again.

“I don’t like feeling like I’m hiding you either, but at least we both agreed this was the right thing,” She says, one hand idly running through his hair and the other tightly holding the collar of his shirt, which she’d been enthusiastically using to pull him down to her height to better kiss him. It was rather rumpled now, and she knew it wouldn’t be fixed for the rest of the day. She’d see it and be reminded of him kissing her every single time, just as he was surely intending. “But you’re right. One day, we’ll have to tell the whole student body our fight was a sham.”

“They’ll get over it,” Damian assures her, kissing her hair since she’s pressed her face against the crook of his shoulder. “Besides, isn’t that how they’re expecting this to end anyway?”

“Yeah, but they don’t know they’re right,” Marinette complained. “The assembly is gonna be over soon. Kiss me again?”

In their locked closet, hidden away from the school and the world, he does.

***** Taglist!

How about prompt 11. “Is this your revenge?”

Pairing is up to you, could you just do platonic, please? If not its fine

aaaaahhhhhhhh yes that's perfect!! I went ahead and made it a part of my gen Christmas fic, which was a prompt from @iwritelikeimrunningoutoftime and technically part of the Mockingbird AU by @starry-bi-sky!!! I know it's almost June, but it literally just fit so nicely in my head I couldn't resist :)

***** “Is this your revenge?” Marinette groaned, looking up at Dick from where she’d managed to curl up under the branches of the Christmas tree.

“Listen, you’re the one who got us all into celebrating Christmas,” Dick crouched down, offering her a glass of water. “Now, I didn’t particularly plan for this, but it is deeply ironic.”

She whimpered against her headache, glad that the curtains were all drawn closed. “Listen, if I had known that convincing you guys to celebrate Christmas would lead to this hangover five years later…”

She couldn’t even say that she wouldn’t have done it, but she was feeling gross enough to let the implication sit there.

“Shame.” Dick said, with surprisingly little sympathy. He was the one who had told her where to find the bottle of very nice rum, which had led to the headlines she’d been ignoring about the wild Wayne childrens’ night out on the town. She honestly wasn’t entirely certain how she’d ended up back home under the Christmas tree. There were boxes poking into her ribs.

“Is Bruce mad?” She asked, sure that he’d say no but the familiar fear that had her fists clenched and stomach in knots needed the reassurance.

“He thinks it’s funny, Mari.” Dick laughed. “That picture of you on the Gotham Times- he already has it framed, in his office. He put it up next to that old paparazzi photo of him doing the exact same thing that Alfred won’t let him take down.”

She scowled. So she’d gotten drunk with Tim and Stephanie and Jason, and yes, they’d convinced her to hang off of the edge of the building, and yes, she had laughed at that photo of Bruce before but it was different when it was her! She pouted, even as that warm thrill of feeling loved and belonging in this family of idiots soothed against the ragged edge of her worrying. “Alright. Let me go back to sleep then.”

“Nope. This is the revenge part,” Dick said, grabbing one of her hands and pulling her up. She moaned, vertigo spinning her around even though Dick was holding her still. “You told Alfred you’d make the log cake this year, and if you don’t he’ll never let you live it down.”

She didn’t glare up at him, but only because she was busy trying to glare at herself. She had done that. Why had she done that? “It’s called the buche de noel. Or at least the Yule log, Dick, not the log cake.”

He shrugged, already pushing her along. “Potayto, potahto. You’re gonna make a cake that looks like firewood.”

She pushed away from him with an annoyed grunt. “Alright, alright, I’m going. Thanks.”

“Merry Christmas, Mari,” Dick grinned, giving her a real hug. “There. That’s revenge for making us love Christmas too.”