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/Part One//Part Eight/

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Description: Exactly what the title says my dudes

Warning: Cursing! Beware, children under 13 (But it’s not like you’re going to listen to me anyways so)

[As always message me if error spotted! Wasn’t sure if I missed something while proof reading once (1)]

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“Hello, Damian.” Sabine greeted warmly as the boy strolled into the bakery, an exasperated expression on his face. “The girls are already upstairs.” 

Damian smiled politely and thanked the lady. “Thank you, Mrs. Dupain-Cheng.” He nodded, already making his way upstairs, remembering his way around from the last time he’d been inside. 

“Just Sabine will do, dear.” The short Chinese lady chastised, a smile on her lips. 

The youngest Wayne only nodded in response before he headed up, hearing the voices of the two girls before he actually saw them. 

“Try this one on!” Marinette’s excited tone caused a fond grin to flit over his lips, gone as he realised what he was doing. 

“This is utterly gorgeous!” Chloe gushed, and he could already feel his oncoming headache at her narrow range of vocabulary. 

Marinette squealed, footsteps sounding as the bluenette pushed her friend into the closet to change. Damian pushed open the trapdoor, looking around, wincing a little as he did so. Everything was just as... Pink as he remembered it. “Hurry up, Chloe! I want to see how it looks on you!” 

Resisting the urge to laugh, Damian made himself known in the room by vaguely clearing his throat, catching Marinette’s sensitive ears. “Damian!” She grinned. “I’ve got the perfect thing for you. I drew it based on Robin after he saved our city the last time.” He blushed, feeling awfully honoured that she had created something after him. 

“You created something inspired by Robin?” He inquired, his voice cracking with slight emotion. 

He could hear her beam even with her back facing him as she shuffled through the shelves of clothes she had hung on the side of her room. Her tongue stuck out of her mouth cutely as she fumbled with the hangers, handling him a red, black, and green jacket, followed by some dark green jeans and a grey t-shirt with yellow lines along the sides. 

“Try these on.” She murmured, half to herself as she nodded in approval about the combination. “Chloe’s using the closet, so maybe you could get changed downstairs?” She suggested. 

Damian groaned. “After this, I owe you nothing, An- Mari.” He stopped himself before he slipped, but he cursed when he noticed her eyeing him suspiciously, having caught the slip-up he nearly made a moment ago. 

“Yeah.” She mumbled, turning back to her table, where numerous sketchbooks lay open for her viewing. She twiddled a pencil between her fingers, biting her lip as she dug about with whatever she had. 

He laughed softly to himself, making his way downstairs to get dressed in his alter-ego inspired attire. 

---

“Chloe?” Marinette asked, needle and thread in hand as she flipped through her notebook furiously. “Would you prefer a running stitch or a slip stitch?” 

The blonde sighed, standing in a pastel yellow dress, rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “I’m honoured that you think so highly of me, Dupain-Cheng, but what on Earth makes you think I know what either of those are?” 

Marinette hummed appreciatively, observing the area she had to alter with a critical eye. “The running stitch it is.” She pursed her lips in concentration, threading in the black string she had in hand as Chloe made a confused noise in her throat. 

“Don’t question it, Bourgeois.” Damian commented, leaning against one of the columns in Marinette’s room. “You chose to be friends with her.” 

Chloe rolled her eyes. “As if you know what those jogging stitches are anyway.” 

Damian shrugged, entering the search on his phone. “As a matter of fact, i do. And it’s a running stitch by the way, not a jogging stitch. A running stitch is ‘a simple needlework stitch consisting of a line of small even stitches which run back and forth through the cloth without overlapping’.” He recited, a smug smirk on his lips. “Any words, Bourgeois?” 

Chloe fumed quietly. “Marinette!” She whined. “You can’t possible let him win. I don’t lose! That’s utterly ridiculous!”

“Damian, say sorry.” Marinette hummed, not even looking up from her work. Damian made a strangled noise in his throat, an offended glint coming into his eyes. 

“I didn’t even-!” He protested, his pose agitated as he stopped leaning against the column. 

The bluenette hummed, shushing the both of them. “Shh.” She continued stitching the alters on Chloe’s dress as the blonde stuck her tongue out childishly at the green-eyed boy, who only pointed his middle finger back in response. Marinette rolled her eyes at their antics, concentrating on the stitch. 

Damian, leaning leisurely against the pillar, fiddled with the clothing he had on, his original set of t-shirt and jeans stacked neatly, folded, in the corner of the room. The jacket fitted just nice- Slightly larger, the way he liked it. The jacket was primarily black, with red, green, and yellow linings striped against the ends and collars. The Robin logo was well-stitched onto the right side, concealing a zip along the circle, which revealed a cozy pocket. The inside of the jacket was a silky material, with plenty of little zips and pockets to store little tidbits. He noted a small embroidment of a robin on the left edge, next to a cursive Marinette DC. 

The t-shirt was simple and grey, the material soft and slippery in his fingers. The jeans were well-fit yet they didn't restrain his movements. Overall, he liked the clothes she gave him- He still had the simple shirt and slacks that she had given him that rainy day. They sat in a precious corner of his room, where he could see them every morning. 

After she finished fiddling with Chloe’s dress, she had the blonde try on another one- This one a beautiful pastel blue and white. The Mayor’s daughter was ushered into the closet as Marinette turned her attention to the dark-haired boy, who gulped at her critical gaze. 

“I’m surprised it fit this well.” Marinette murmured under her breath, not intending to let Damian hear her. “They were tailored for Robin’s size.” 

Damian glanced at her in surprise. He didn’t know that she’d taken his size on one of his nightly visits- She was slicker than he thought. Then again, it wasn’t the first time he had underestimated Marinette Dupain-Cheng. 

“So...” Marinette gestured at the things he was wearing. “How does it... Feel?” 

He paused before he answered. “Soft...? Comfortable.” He added. 

Marinette nodded in approval before she stepped back, scribbling some notes on her notebook. “They fit you well, but there still need to be some alterations.” After some thought, she added: “They were made for Robin, so I suppose the size doesn't exactly match up perfectly.” She pursed her lips, as if something confused her. “But overall I have a good idea of your measurements, so...” She flicked through her clothing rack. “Try these on.” She handed him a covered hanger of what he made out to be a dark green suit. “I’ll need to wash all these clothes before the show.” She said to herself, beaming as Chloe stepped out of the closet. 

As Damian stepped into the toilet to change again, he snapped out of his daze. He had felt so... Weird that Marinette had made clothes for his alter-ego without him knowing. Perhaps she was keeping them in case it rained and Robin dropped by for dry clothes? Whatever her reason was, he was going to find out that night. 

---

Marinette hummed, pleased, to herself as she set aside the four sets of clothing (Each) that she had finished altering for both Damian and Chloe. Plagg munched on a camembert macaron (He had insisted, she was disgusted), lounging in the little bean bag that Marinette had sewn for him. 

“I must say,” Plagg munched on his macaron. “I’m pretty proud of you, kid.” 

The bluenette smiled softly to herself. “I can’t wait. I feel a little nervous, and there’s a little of time constraint, but surprisingly I’m not that busy, and my homework was finished...” Marinette trailed off, it suddenly clicking to her why her schedule freed up. 

She looked behind her, where her classmates’ schedule used to be- Now it was replaced by a board filled with design ideas, with sticky notes of appointments and places she needed to be, things and events she wanted to attend. 

The moment her life started becoming about her, it was as if everything brightened. 

“That’s why.” She murmured, Plagg stopping as he looked up, confused. Then he saw what she was looking at. “I’m living for myself now.” She said, smiling brightly. 

“About time, kid!” Plagg grinned. “That’s the spirit! Now, can I get more of this delicious macarons?” (Way to ruin the moment, Plagg)

Marinette rolled her eyes, giggling. “I could go and bake another batch. You finished the last batch already, Plagg. What am I supposed to do with you?” She placed her hands on her hips, an exasperated sigh escaping her mouth as she dramatised her actions. “What shall I do with you?” 

“Angel?” A soft knock on her skylight-trapdoor thing informed her of Robin’s presence. “Who are you talking to?” 

Marinette swiftly grabbed a pastel pink sweater on her way climbing up to the trapdoor, Plagg quickly hiding in the hood, camembert macaron still in hand as he hid along the fur in the hood of the article. 

“Robin?” Marinette looked out, seeing the bird-named vigilante squatting next to the skylight. “You’re early.” She stated, remembering the time on the clock, which she had looked at moments before he knocked. He hadn't been due for at least another twenty minutes. 

Robin shrugged. “Bumblebee took over patrol.” He scrunched up his nose. “You smell like camembert.” 

The bluenette hesitated in answer. “Yeah.” She answered truthfully. “I was baking camembert macarons.” 

Robin looked at her weirdly. “Camembert macarons are a thing?” 

“Apparently, some people like it.” Marinette shrugged, chuckling as the chaos god in her hoodie scoffed, offended. 

Silence fell on the balcony as stars took their place in the skies, clouds clearing up to show the beautiful view. 

“Can I ask you a question, Robin?” Marinette asked softly, the breeze brushing against her dark blue locks. “You don’t have to answer, but... If you do, I want you to be honest with me.” 

Robin raised his eyebrows, but gestured for her to go on. 

“I... I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but...” Marinette hesitated. The question was just on the tip of her tongue: Do I know you as a civilian? “Do you want hot chocolate?” She said at the last second. Are you Damian Fu? “I’ve got some downstairs.” Or Damian Wayne? She had remembered his name from the first day- The one and only slip up he made before he carried on with ‘Damian Fu’. Who are you actually? 

Robin squinted at her. “Are you okay, angel? And yes, please. I’d like some hot chocolate.” Without thinking, he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her temple. By the time he’d digested what he was doing, it’s already been done. Marinette stared at him, stunned as he fumbled for words. “Sorry- I just- Um- I- Sorry.” He sighed. “I don’t know what- What went over me. I shouldn’t have um- Sorry- I-” He groaned. Why did he have to suck with words?” 

She smiled softly. “It’s okay, Robin.” She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his lips as he froze, staring blankly at her stunning, shy, bashful smile. “I’ll go get that hot chocolate.” 

---

What had she been thinking? Marinette groaned. Why on Earth did she kiss him back on the lips? Where was she hoping that would go, anyway? He was a vigilante- And while she was one, too, granted, still-! 

“Bold moves, kid.” Plagg complimented as they made their way to the kitchen. Marinette shot him a dirty look, groaning as she heated to chocolate on the counter. “I approve.” He supposed Tikki’s kid would do for his precious kitten. 

“What was I thinking?” She mumbled incoherent words following her rhetorical question, a palmful of her dark hair in her hands as she groaned. 

Robin, hanging from the ledge above using his grappling hook, watched his angel make hot chocolate for the both of them, smiled lightly to himself. 

Did he just fall in love? 

Oh yes. 

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/Part Ten/

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Hello! I’m not sure if this is progressing a little too fast but...? Aye amateur writer here (That doesn't do plot planning in case you were wondering). Any ideas on Chloe’s s/o? OC? Idk... :/ Anyways thanks for being so supportive, I love y’all <3 also Damian being a lovestruck little puppy just agrees with me a lot 

@daminette-december2019

(More of the Minuit AU, but now we're back in present time. Master Fu had given it to Damian before he moved to Paris, and Damian and Marinette / Minuit and Ladybug have never met)

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Honestly, what did he expect. 

Paris. The City of Love. 

---

Damian had long given up on finding his soulmate. Ever since young, his mother had enforced the idea that soulmates were useless and only a liability- And he had grown to think that he didn’t have a soulmate. Even if he did have one, what kind of soulmate would want him back?

He’d always ignored his soul mark. In fact, he had been ashamed of it. He’d always hidden it from his mother, not wanting to know what she’d think of it. 

The print on his ankle, where his soulmate was supposed to touch him the first time. A hand mark, where her hand clamps around his ankle. He honestly can’t picture a scenario where his soulmate would just lie down and grasp his ankle, which just made the entire thing even more ridiculous. 

Even when he was living with Bruce, he didn’t care about his mark, and since none of his siblings ever asked, he never bothered to mention it. 

He’d given up on all hope of a soulmate- But who knew that she was waiting in the City of Love for him. 

---

It was Alfred’s idea. 

An old friend of Alfred, a man named Fu, had came to visit the Wayne manor, and the moment Fu’s eyes landed on him, he could feel the amount of chaos radiating off the boy. 

While Damian appeared calm and composed on the outside, in the inside... He wasn’t that much calm and composed. More chaotic. His thoughts, whenever he let them free- Would rocket off the walls of his mind, echoing in doubts and all the memories in which he wasn’t good enough. There was always the ‘What if’, and Damian tried his very best to restrain his inner chaos. 

The moment Plagg set eyes on him, the god of destruction claimed his new kitten. Agreste was deemed unfit by Plagg himself, and Ladybug had only aided in taking the cat miraculous away and setting the cat god free. 

And now Fu was looking for a new holder. 

And Damian just happened to be that holder. 

And so, thanks to Alfred’s wonderful suggestion, Damian was shipped off to Paris.

---

‘Annoying’ would be the one word that Damian would use to describe Plagg. 

First of all, the tiny black thing wouldn’t stop calling him ‘Kid’. 

Second, the thing kept insisting for cheese. And Damian had to explain that ‘No, there isn’t any camembert on the plane, you stupid little-’ 

And there was also the problem of the fact that no matter how hard he tried, Damian couldn't force the ring off his finger. In all the hurry of shipping him to Paris to aid Ladybug, no one paused to think about the fact that perhaps, Damian didn't want to be the next Chat Noir. 

The moment he landed in Paris, he had dragged himself to the toilet to begin an intense conversation with Plagg. 

“Take it back.” Damian hissed. “I’ve told you, I don’t want to be the cat holder.” 

Plagg hissed right back. “Ladybug needs a partner!” 

“And why must I be the candidate?” Damian was really fed up at this point. 

“Because Agreste was an abusive cat and he was unfit! He was putting the lady in danger! She needs a competent cat!” 

Damian paused at this, gritting his teeth. 

“Fine.” 

---

He had imagined that he would meet his spotted partner on a calm night where he would convince her to ask Plagg to unclaim him. He did not, absolutely did not imagine that it would be a life-or-death situation. 

The Akuma bell rang, and he ran out of the school, glancing at the sky where the victim was laughing maniacally. Running back in, against the outflow of frantic students, he darted into a toilet stall, hurrying the god to tell him the magic words. 

I’m going to regret this, he thought as he uttered the words: “Plagg, claws out!” 

He ran out into the open, catching the surprised and somewhat offended glare of a blonde. Anger flashed across his mind as it occurred to him that the certain blonde was Agreste- The abusive Chat who wouldn’t take no from the spotted lady. According to Plagg, even though the lady had told him multiple times, Chat kept insisting that they were soul mates even though they weren’t, and he even tried to force a soulmate bond in between them. He bit back a growl at the boy, but continued on his track to where he could already spot the lone red superhero fending off the akuma. 

Pulling out the baton from his back, he slashed the akuma in the stomach, jumping over two rooftops as he did so, landing on his feet lightly. Ladybug didn’t spare him a second glance and continued to push the akuma back with swinging her yoyo back and forth, stopping the victim’s advance. He could see her eyes calculating the entire fight, and she was- Oh. She was eyeing the pouch on the victim- Which must be where the akuma was, Damian figured. 

Jumping forward, he slashed at the belt holding the pouch, grabbing it as he darted away, an impressed glance shining from the bluebell eyes belonging to the superhero. 

“Catch!” He yelled, tossing it to her as the akuma chased him angrily, watching with a questioning expression as she broke the object and caught the butterfly with her yoyo. 

But before she could utter the magic words, the akuma swiped at his legs angrily, causing him to lose his balance as he cried out in pain, slipping down the roof as he began to fall towards the ground head-first.

“No!” He heard her scream just as a hand caught his left ankle- Right where his mark was. Even under the leather material, he could feel the colours bloom where she’d touched him. Grunting a little, she pulled him back up, purifying the akuma after she did so. 

“You okay?” She asked, panting a little. He was quite impressed- He wasn’t light, but she still managed to drag him up from the roof edge all on her own. She wasn’t a girl to be messed with. 

He was quiet for a bit, because after the initial shock faded, he suddenly realised OH she was his soulmate. 

“Thanks.” He said quietly, contemplating on what to say next. 

She shot him a friendly smile. 

She didn’t know that they were soulmates yet. She would only realise when he touched her mark- 

He panicked internally, because where was her mark? What if he touched the wrong part and missed her mark?

“Well, I’ll get going now. My transformation is almost over. I’ll meet you tonight for patrol?” She didn’t give him time to answer, and he supposed she was in quite a hurry as she was on her last spot on her earrings. 

Tonight, then. 

---

Plagg was feeling very triumphant. 

“Ha! Would you look at that! She’s your soulmate!” 

He rolled his eyes, swatting the god aside as he headed for his first class- Well, it wasn’t supposed to be his first class, but the actual first class had been taken up by akuma fighting time. 

The teacher had shot him a friendly smile and asked him to introduce himself. 

“I’m Damian Fu, nice to meet you.” They had agreed that he went as Fu’s adopted son. 

“Marinette, as the class president, could you please take care of our new student?” 

‘Marinette’ nodded and gave him a small smile as he headed to the empty seat next to her at the back of the class. 

“Hey, did you hear about that new Cat that fought with Ladybug today?” He heard one of the students say. Glancing at the first row, he noticed that the blonde flinched upon the question. 

“Yeah, I wonder what’s his name.” Another student added. Huh, he hadn’t thought of that yet. 

“My name’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” The dark-haired girl introduced herself. “It’s nice to meet you, Damian.” She smiled sweetly. 

“And you too.” He replied, already thinking about the night’s patrol. 

---

“Plagg, claws out!” 

Once he was on the rooftops, he realised there was a problem. Where would he find Ladybug? But it wouldn’t be that hard, right? She was running around in a red suit. Probably easy to spot. 

But the thing he never thought of was that she was sensible and she was wearing a black jacket and black tights above her suit. 

It took him more than an hour to find her. And when he did finally find her, she was resting at the top of the Eiffel Tower. 

“I looked for you for an hour.” He panted. 

“I waited for an hour.” She replied with a cocky smirk. “We’ll meet here everynight from now on?” 

“Sure.” He panted, still trying to catch his breath. 

“See you, then.” She smiled, already swinging off her yoyo to leave. 

“W-Wait!” 

He rushed towards her, touching the tip of one of her pigtails before it blossomed into a million colours. She swung off, because, well, physics- But he chuckled a little as she swung back, cheeks blushing and eyes shining. 

“I- Wha- I thought I didn’t have a soulmate.” She gasped, forcing the words out. “And all this time-” She stopped herself, flushed. “Well, I suppose since we’re soulmates- I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” 

He was surprised, honestly. The class president?