#I kinda miss it for real but I have no inspo for that fic anymore and don’t really remember what my plan for it was

[a-concert-just-for-me]

I’m excited, I think Potionless is going to become my new most popular fic within the next chapter or two

[solxamber]

If you haven’t gotten this already, maybe a part 2 to Idia x sentient npc reader?

Maybe they somehow find themselves in twst? Maybe isekai style (I’m stuck on you villainess fics lol)? Or if you had other ideas that’s totally fine too. (I’m not used to requesting 😭)

I really like your stuff so honestly I wanna give you as much creative freedom. Or if you feel like that fic is over/you don’t have inspo for it anymore that’s understandable too 😊

Keep up the amazing work!! 💖💖

Idia Shroud x Sentient NPC Part 2

Part 1 : here

Thank you for the request, and I'm glad you like my isekai fics <3

The moment you blink into existence in Twisted Wonderland, you’re not sure if this is real life or another game glitch. One minute you were comfortably breaking the fourth wall and wooing a gamer, and the next? You’re standing in front of an overgrown haunted house with a big “Night Raven College” sign. And a certain blue-haired, fire-topped guy is gaping at you like you’ve just sprouted another head.

“W-WAIT,” Idia stammers, eyes wide behind his tablet as he stares at you. “This—This isn’t happening. There’s no way. Did I… did I actually summon an NPC?!”

You take one look at him—tousled hair, dark circles under his eyes, and the way his fingers hover over his tablet like it’s some sort of lifeline—and a grin tugs at your lips. Oh, this is gonna be good.

“Well, well, well,” you say, casually strolling over to him. “If it isn’t my favorite player. Miss me?”

Idia makes a noise somewhere between a squeak and a strangled gasp, his whole body freezing up. “Y-You—! You’re here! How are you here?! Did I—is this some cursed DLC? Am I in a nightmare? Oh my god, is this another event?!”

You lean in, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Nightmare? Babe, I thought you were happy to see me.”

Idia’s face flushes a deep red, and he yanks his hoodie up over his head, mumbling something incoherent into the fabric. “H-Happy? Who said anything about happy?! I didn’t sign up for a ‘real-life NPC invading my world’ edition!”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? You weren’t just thinking about how much you’d like me if I were in the real world?”

He stiffens so hard it’s like his entire spine turned into a steel rod. “HOW DID YOU—NO. I didn’t—this isn’t—this is a glitch, it has to be! Or a fever dream. Or maybe I finally lost it after all those sleepless nights grinding for rare drops—"

"You're cute when you ramble," you interrupt with a smirk, enjoying watching him implode. "So, are you going to show me around this place, or should I just assume you’re too flustered to handle me?"

Idia stares at you like you’ve grown two extra heads. “Y-You’re just… okay with this? You’re literally… in a different dimension, and you’re fine?!”

You shrug. “Eh, it’s a step up from my last gig. Besides,” you add, leaning in closer, “I kinda like having you as my guide.”

His brain short-circuits for a full ten seconds. “G-GUIDE?! L-Like an actual dating sim?! Do you think this is a game?!”

You pause dramatically. “Isn’t everything a game?”

There’s an audible groan from behind you, and you turn to find Grim, your new furry audience member, smacking his face with his paw. “Great, just what we needed—another weirdo.”

Idia, still staring at you like you’re some kind of unholy glitch in his life’s code, manages to stammer out, “I—I can’t believe this is real. There’s no way this is real.”

You smirk. “It’s real, all right. And don’t pretend you’re not thrilled. I can practically hear your heart racing.”

His face flushes even deeper, and he clutches his tablet like it’s his last connection to sanity. “Okay, okay. You’re in Twisted Wonderland, fine. But this doesn’t mean you get to start… start messing with the plot!”

You grin. “Who says I’m here to follow the plot?”

Idia lets out a strangled noise, burying his face deeper in his hoodie. “This… this is too much. I’m not ready for this level of immersion. This is like, hardcore VR, but real! And with you here, it’s… it’s… OH MY GOD, WHAT DO I DO?!”

You put a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to look at you. “Easy. You play the game, Idia. And let me show you how fun it can get when I’m the one writing the script.”

The look of sheer panic—and excitement—on his face is priceless. "Y-You're serious?!" he squeaks, not sure whether to pass out or burst into flames from sheer embarrassment. "But, like—what if this is a permanent event?! What if I never—"

"Oh, relax," you say, poking his chest lightly. "I'll make sure we both enjoy this little 'quest.'"

There’s another groan from Grim, but you ignore him, keeping your eyes locked on the flustered mess in front of you. Idia’s practically a puddle at this point, cheeks redder than Riddle’s roses, but you know he’s loving every second of it.

“Okay,” he mutters, glancing between you and his tablet. “Okay, I can work with this. Maybe it’s not a total catastrophe. I mean, you’re here, so—wait, does that mean you’re, like… my NPC now?”

You flash him a rogue grin. “If that’s what you want, I’m all yours.”

Idia blinks. Then, with the kind of realization that only a true gamer would have, he straightens up slightly. “I-Is this… the ultimate secret route?!”

"Could be," you say, leaning in closer. "You think you can handle it?"

He stares at you, wide-eyed and flustered beyond belief, but finally, he nods—though it's more of a nervous twitch than anything. "Y-Yeah. Yeah, I-I can handle it. This is fine. Totally fine. Just… don’t, uh, don’t go rogue too much? I-I don’t think I can survive if you start rewriting my entire life!”

You laugh. “No promises, player.”

The panic in his eyes is real, but so is the smile slowly creeping onto his face. And as you stand there, facing him in this strange new world, you realize you’re both about to have a lot of fun.

"Welcome to the real game," you whisper, before pulling him into a kiss.

Idia promptly drops his tablet.

Masterlist

[two-red-lungs]

A Real Human Being (Eddie x Reader Hurt/Comfort)

Fic Song Inspo: X

and you have proved to be

a real human being

and a real hero

It always started with humming. An eerie, static humming that crawled like ants through your head: a deep, uneasy knot of anxiety. Ratcheting up and up, higher and higher. Like TV snow.

And then you’d see him. Exactly how he looked when you’d found him lifeless in Dustin’s arms. His skin blue in the alternate dimension’s light. Red blood turned black. A broken doll, limbs sprawled, lifeless and lank.

Eddie was always so vibrate.

Seeing him like… this, it was wrong. It was wrong and he should be moving and smiling and cracking jokes, not glassy-eyes staring into nothing with- oh god- slick black blood dribbling down his chin and drying tracks of tears cutting wet lines down his unmoving face, and-

A hand was on your shoulder, shaking you awake. You burst into the conscious realm with a hoarse scream: the kind of gut-punch wounded animal noise only someone who’d lost could scream. A half-aware wail of agony.

For a second, all you could feel was how you felt in the moment six months ago. Like a fucking hole had been punched through your chest. Through your life.

There was grumbling and fumbling in the dark room, and with a click the nightstand light went on. Eddie blinked blearily down at you, eyes pinched and hair stuck to his face where he had been sleeping on it.

“Hey.” He croaked out. Just like he always did when you had a nightmare. “M’here.”

Broad, calloused hands rubbed circles on your skin. Warmth against warmth, rasping against the sheets.

Heart still hammering, you rolled over to face him, to crush yourself to him. He smelled good: like cheap green apple shampoo and dollar-store deodorant and morning breath. An ugly combination to be sure. But he smelled alive.

You put a hand on his chest, over his soft, beaten-up band tee. Feeling his heart thump, slow and even.

Eddie exhaled and his breath tickled your face. “Bad one?” He rasped.

“Pretty bad.” You kept your sweaty, upset gaze on your hand: tracking the way it rose and fell on his pectoral. Evidence. Proof, that he was here. That he wasn’t going to fade to smoke.

“You wanna…?” Eddie asked.

“Yes. Please.”

He let you lift the hem of his shirt. Starting at the edge of his blue boxers and going up, under the soft hair of his naval and torso, were scars. An armada of them. A small fleet. Pink and raised and shiny and tight. Slowly going paler every day, as they healed.

He told you they didn’t even ache anymore. That was progress.

Eddie was quiet. Subtly matching your breathing. Coaching you down. A hand on your waist: heavy and real. Studying your face with those big, sleepy, chocolate Bambi eyes. On the nightstand the digital clock clicked over to 3:15.

Fingers brushed a lock of hair from your eyes and tucked it behind your ear. You finally, finally summoned up the courage to look him in the face. No oozing black blood. No split lip. No tears.

Just Eddie, looking down at you. Cheeks a little ruddy and uneven, a trail of drying spittle leaking from the corner of his mouth. Pillow crease marks on the left of his face. The startings of a five-o’clock shadow.

God help you, you loved him.

You laid a hand flat against his ribs. Rise, fall. Rise, fall. “Don’t you ever die on me again, Edward.” You said severely. Undercut, perhaps, by the wobble in your tone.

The hand on your hip drew you closer, until you could feel his body heat. “It was just for a second, baby. I came back, didn’t I? Missed you too much.”

You blinked and remembered your hands on his chest, folding over themselves, right over his heart. Slam, slam, slam. CPR. Praying. “Don’t… don’t it again.”

“I won’t. Cross my heart. Pinkie swear. With a cherry on top. And a needle in my eye.” His lips pulled into a warm, tired smile when you huffed out a laugh. “Can we go back to sleep, now? Kinda need to be up in three hours.” When you draped yourself over his chest, nestling in, he heaved a mock sigh. “Jesus. Kinda needy, aren’t you.”

You just hummed, and didn’t broach the fact that his arm went to eagerly hold you to him as soon as you put your weight on his chest.

Eddie’s heart thumped against your ear, where you had it pressed to his shoulder. And when he fumbled for the light switch again, the click sending the bedroom back into darkness, you weren’t as afraid as you were before.

[miracle-sham]

When Sitting on the Roof, We are but Coffee Sleuths.

| {Sequel to Death is the Stage, My Art is Your Grave.} |

| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] | | [DitSMAiYG Link] |

| {Repost due to original post disappearing from tags.} |

| Triggers/Warnings: Mentions of drugs/drug ring (in regards to a case), Mild language. |

| After a long day of boring casework, there's nothing better than getting a new commission, and then drinking coffee and having a chat on top of a roof with a certain bat. |

| Word Count: 3051 |

==–==

| A/N: First of all, I'd like to quickly thank everyone for all the positive response and support the original oneshot got on both Tumblr and Ao3! It really motivated and inspired me to continue with this Au (expect at least another sequel, maybe more if I get more inspo but even if I don't there's definitely gonna be one sequel minimum to this). I'd also like to mention, that this took a lot longer to write as I got a cold halfway through writing it and also it's romance based fluff (which is not my forté), but thanks to those who've waited for this! And finally, for reasons that I'll explain in a separate post later, it might be a "little" while before I can start work on the sequel to this one but it will get written at some point. |

| If you want to be tagged in future oneshots/fics, or a specific Au, then send me a DM or an ask! |

| Also side note, Don't Like? Don't Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

==–==

It's been a month since Marinette got kidnapped, kissed Red Robin, and solved the Elemental Park Serial Killer case. For three weeks she's been held off active duty to make sure her bruised ribs heal but now that she's able to be on active duty again, all the available cases are those that are paperwork heavy. A small part of her misses the immediate healing of the Miraculous Cure but she's not Ladybug anymore and even if she was, it would raise too many flags for her to even use it anyway. But logic doesn't stop her from missing the days when she could literally and metaphorically magic away her aches and pains.

Marinette groans and slumps into her chair, it's been a surprisingly slow day at the GCPD, so when her phone beeps rapidly for a few seconds, she thinks, please be something interesting, and can't help but take a quick glance to see what new notifications she has. The screen reads: '3 new messages from Red'. So she taps the notification and reads through each message.

>RedRob: Hey, found some new evidence on our case, want to meet up for coffee to discuss it?

>RedRob: Rooftop coffee after dark, of course.

>RedRob: I mean I could waltz into a coffee shop during the day in my suit but that might get too much attention for case talk.

Marinette snickers to herself as she reads the messages over a second time. She quickly taps out her response.

>MariBlue: Will we need to worry about one of the other Gotham vigilantes crashing our coffee not-date?

Almost instantly she receives a response.

>RedRob: I'll bribe Oracle or Batgirl, maybe even Black Bat, into keeping the others away.

She sends a heart emoji back, then returns to sorting out her boring paperwork.

Detective Grayson raises an eyebrow at her from over the desk, clearly having caught her looking at her phone. “Red Robin again?”

She flashes him a sheepish grin. “How'd you guess.”

He gives her a deadpan stare. “He's the only person you respond to when working.”

Marinette bites her lip. “Whoops, that obvious?”

“Yes.” Detective Grayson hesitates for a second, he leans in closer—and like a teenage girl at a sleepover in a cheesy teen drama, asks, “So are you dating yet?”

She shrugs. “Well neither of us have asked the other so not really.”

“But you guys are perfect for each other!” He exclaims, gesturing towards her with an outstretched arm—very narrowly avoiding knocking anything off the desk.

It's Marinette's turn to raise an eyebrow. “We literally have only seen or talked to each other when working…”

“So? What do you call you quote unquote "not-dates"” He huffs, making air quotes as he speaks.

She huffs and shakes her head. “There's a reason they're called "not-dates" and that's because we discuss work at them. And anyway it's too early to rush our relationship.”

“Fair.” Detective Grayson stills, frowns and then almost hesitantly, he asks, “Is it because if the mask? The whole not knowing his real identity?”

Marinette rolls her eyes and shakes her head again. “Nope, I couldn't care less about finding out his real identity—at least not without his consent that is.”

He hums, a pensive look on his face. “So you're not curious?”

She shrugs. “Not particularly, why?”

Detective Grayson shrugs back. “Just wondering,” he leans back on his chair and for a split second, Marinette fears he might topple over but somehow he seems unaffected by gravity, “I think you're the first person I've met, who doesn't want to know who's behind a vigilante's mask.”

A smile tugs at Marinette's lips. “I think it's kinda dumb that so many people are obsessed with the people behind the masks because if they're doing good, unmasking them will only deter them from continuing fighting the good fight and all that, y'know.”

He nods slowly, “huh, that's one way of putting it I guess but I agree, the vigilantes do more for this city than people think they do.” Detective Grayson then tilts his head towards the Commissioner's office. “Anyway back to work, don't want to get in more trouble with the Commish than we are already!”

Marinette huffs in amusement and rolls her eyes but complies nonetheless. Wouldn't do to get in trouble so soon after getting back onto active duty!

==–==

It isn't until gone seven pm, that Marinette finally gets home. She slips through the door, locking it behind her. Now that she's in, the first thing she does, as she does every day, is check her online portfolio and commission site.

Marinette plops herself down in her wheely chair and logs onto to her computer, going through all the verification and security Max had kindly added. A new commission notification grabs her attention. With three clicks, she brings up the new commission's details. She scrolls down to the name of the commissioner: one Mr 'T. Drake-Wayne'.

Curious as to why the name sounds vaguely familiar, Marinette opens up a tab on Google with a hum and types in the name. Upon reading the top results, she half chokes in shock and thinks to herself, Are you kidding me? She blinks and breathes in, a small part of her very glad she wasn't drinking anything otherwise she definitely would've fully choked on that or spat it all up from the shock. I know a bunch of well-known celebrities have all commissioned me many times before, but still why the heck is a fortune 500 CEO commissioning me? I'm not Audrey Bourgeois, Gabriel Agreste, or even Valen-hecking-tino. I do celebrities, not fortune 500. The heck. What. The. Actual. Heck.

Eyes wide and gobsmacked, Marinette shakes her head and clicks back to her latest commission's details page to read through the actual commission. After reading the first line, she scrambles for her sketchbook and begins jotting down notes and scribbling down ideas.

Half an hour in, Marinette takes a break to sort out and eat dinner, no point designing on an empty stomach but once she's done eating and washed up, she goes straight back to designing.

Even at a quarter past midnight, she's still at it—surprisingly only three drafts in and so thoroughly lost in her own head in designing, Marinette nearly misses the knocking against her window facing the fire escape.

The rapid rap-tap-tap spooks her so much that she falls out of her chair with an “Eep!”

Marinette, face flushing bright red, scrambles up and scurries over to the window in question. Shoving her blinds out the way, she stares through the window and is greeted with the absolutely glorious sight of a beaming and uninjured Red Robin holding two takeaway coffee cups on the fire escape. He waves at her with one hand and gestures for her to join him on the fire escape.

She can't help but grin back at him and deftly opens the window and slinks out onto the fire escape. He hands a coffee cup towards her and instead of taking it, Marinette gives him a good ol' bearhug—smooshing pressing her face into his Kevlar armoured chest. Which is unsurprisingly, very uncomfortable. She shifts her head to stare up at him (as he's at least whole head taller than her) “Hey,” she greets.

Awkwardly hugging her back, as to not spill either of the coffees in the process, “hey yourself,” Red Robin responds, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.

Marinette pulls back from the hug and nabs the coffee cup that had been offered to her before their hug. “Thank you~!”

“No problem.” He then gestures towards the fire escape stairs leading to the roof, “after you.”

“So which of our cases did you manage to get a lead for?” She asks, making her way up to the roof.

“The one pertaining to the new drug ring in the fashion district. I've narrowed down where they're storing the drugs to potentially three warehouses near Miller Harbour.” Red Robin answers, following after her.

Reaching the roof, Marinette sits down on the half wall around the roof edge. She glances over at Red Robin as he joins her on the improvised seat. “That's the drug ring dealing Miraclo right?”

“Yeah, that's the one.” He pauses to take a sip of his coffee, “I got the intel from an old friend of Catwoman's called Mackey lives in an apartment that overlooks the Harbour and saw a shipment of the drug arrive at the warehouses.”

Taking a sip of her own coffee, Marinette raises an eyebrow. “And will Detective Grayson and I will be able to get that intel as witness statement?”

Red Robin nods. “Yep, Catwoman's vouching for you both.”

She jerks back in surprise, nearly toppling off the half wall but managing to cling to the edge in time to keep her from falling. Miraculously somehow managing to avoid dropping or spilling her coffee. Oof, if it wasn't for my stint in Spandex I definitely would've made a fool of myself in front of Red Robin. And here I thought that part of my life had since passed. Marinette thinks to herself, wincing at the newly gained superficial graze across her palms. She clears her throat and attempts to look like she didn't just nearly fall off a half wall. “Catwoman's vouching for us? Since when? I've literally never encountered her before.”

Red Robin, the traitor, snorts at her predicament. “You are the epitome of elegance. And Detective Grayson's bumped into her a few times on the job.”

“Thanks.” She responds drily, layering on the sarcasm thickly. She shakes her head and sighs. “So do you know what the addresses are for the warehouses and this Mackey's apartment?”

He takes an excruciatingly slow sip of his coffee before speaking. “Of course I can, what kind of vigilante do you take me for?” He then proceeds to rattle off the addresses.

Which Marinette jots down on the napkin that came with her coffee, and puts it into a pocket for safekeeping. “Thank you.” With it written down, she pauses then starts kicking her legs in the air. She sniffs. “And I take you for the kind that flirts with innocent police officers.”

Red Robin grins at her as he gently elbows her in the ribs. “I don't hear you complaining.”

Marinette scoffs and slaps her hand to her chest in an overly dramatic mock of shock. “Unfair! If I complained I wouldn't get any hugs or kisses from you!”

Humming he wraps an arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss to her temple. “That's true, what a shame it would be for you to miss out on all those hugs.”

She hums back and the two ease into a comfortable silence; leaning against each other and sipping their coffees whilst staring at the night sky.

Once Marinette gets halfway through her coffee, she glances at Red Robin and hesitates, her earlier conversation with Detective Grayson springing to mind. “Communication is key in healthy relationships,” she prefaces, “so are you okay with our current relationship? Y'know the flirting, the not-dates, the whole me not knowing your identity?”

Red Robin laughs, sounding slightly bitter. “Of course I'm fine with the flirting and not-dates but I'm not going to lie and say I don't have any worries over you not knowing my identity. It's one of the reasons a relationship I had with a fellow mask didn't work out.” Rubbing at his jaw, he tilts his face away from her slightly, as though reminiscing about something. He then shakes his head and turns back to her. “Really, I ought to be asking you that. So what about you, are you okay with how our relationship is?”

Marinette hums. “This isn't the first time relationship I've had with a masked hero.” Then takes a calm sip of her coffee.

“So you've got a thing for masks then huh? Lucky me I guess.” He responds, smirking mischievously, and whilst she can't see the rest of his face thanks to the cowl, Marinette just knows that he's wiggling his eyebrows at her from underneath that cowl.

His comment nearly sends her tumbling off the half wall—again. She coughs and splutters in laughter as she nearly spits up her sip of coffee. It takes her a full thirty seconds to recover and mock gripes, “remind me why I love you again.”

Red Robin cocks his head to the side and grins. “Because I bring you coffee?”

She huffs, “good point.”

“So back to the mask thing, can I ask what happened with your masked hero relationship?” He asks, tone hesitant. He stares at her, ready to back off the topic at the slightest sign of discomfort from her.

Marinette hisses through her teeth and states, “I can trust you.”

His stare conveys an 'I would hope so' whilst he bobs his head a little in a 'yes you can' and a 'please continue' gesture.

She takes a deep breath before speaking, “I used to be a hero, back when I lived in Paris.”

“Oh?” Red Robin freezes, thrown off guard by her admission.

Nodding, Marinette continues. “It was difficult. We started when we were barely teens and had no training and no support except for temporary heroes we could bring in when the battles got too hard for just me and my partner to handle. When we started, we were repeatedly told to never, under any circumstances, let anyone find out our identities. My partner and I, neither of us knew who the other was beneath the mask. And we only knew the identities of the temporary heroes because we gave them the ability to become superheroes. But even then we didn't always know their real identities and they certainly never knew ours.”

“Yikes.” Is all he can respond with, mind racing with questions. “That can't have been good, at least I had Batman and Nightwing when I was starting out, but you had no one to talk to about being a mask, outside the mask.”

She flashes him a watery smile and sighs. “No, I did have someone. Tikki. But we're uh, not in contact any more. Since I retired.”

Still, Red Robin makes a noise of concern at that.

“Anyway, one thing led to another led to another, and my partner found out my identity.” Marinette puts her coffee down then tips her head back and closes her eyes. “We started dating not long after that. But once we defeated the BBEG terrorising Paris and some… concerning things came to light, our—we,” She shakes her head, “we realised that because of that, neither of us were emotionally able to continue our relationship in a romantic way. So we decided to stay friends and I—uh, I retired and moved to Gotham.”

He puts his coffee down as well, and pulls her into a tight hug, although making sure it wasn't too constricting as to not make her uncomfortable. “I'm sorry.”

She leans into the hug, rests her head on his shoulder, and delicately wraps her arms around him in return. “What? Why? It's not your fault.”

Red Robin frowns, not that she can see in their current position, “I know but no one should be forced into becoming a hero at such a young age with no support network.”

Huffing, Marinette buries her face in his shoulder, somewhat muffling her voice but not enough to make her unintelligible, “what about Spoiler? She became a hero around that age and had no support network.”

He sighs. “Spoiler chose to become a vigilante, she wasn't forced. And anyway, she had Robin and the rest of the bats to support her once they realised what she was doing.”

“Hmm… fair.” Marinette pulls back from the hug and pauses. “On a lighter note, I got a commission on my fashion site from Tim Drake-Wayne!”

Red Robin raises an eyebrow and with poorly concealed amusement, responds, “Oh? And what's so special about him”

She rolls her eyes at him. “He's the youngest fortune five hundred CEO, founded the Neon Knights among other charities, and often donates to various charities around Gotham! Plus Wayne Enterprises is one of, if not the most ethical company in the fortune five hundred bracket. Employees get living stipends, and training and higher education paid by the company. They get healthcare and dental insurance. They get flexible work hours, paid breaks, and receive above minimum wage pay!”

He laughs. “I guess he is a pretty decent sounding guy then.”

“Mhmm.”

“So what's the commission then? Or is it a secret?” He teases, leaning towards her.

Marinette dramatically places her hand over her heart. “I guess I can spare you the details this one time.”

“Wooh!”

She bites her lip before launching into a long ramble about the commission, gushing over what design and colour palette she's thinking of going with, what bots and bobs and patterns to add, what stitch to use and how to make sure it fits his style, etc.

Red Robin spends the entire time listening attentively, despite not really understanding half the fashion terms, and staring at her like a love-struck puppy.

“Damn, I love you!” He exclaims once she finishes speaking, then leans in to kiss her on the lips.

Marinette bursts into giggles and kisses him back. Her giggles are seemingly infectious, as once they part from the kiss, both are giggling and flushed red.

A bright flash of white followed by a camera shutter sound immediately distracts them both. They just manage to catch sight of Nightwing swinging away.

She gives him a look, which is somewhat less effective as she's still smiling from the kiss. “What happened to bribing Oracle, Black Bat, or Batgirl?”

Red Robin groans and drops his face into his hands. “Clearly Nightwing was able to one-up my bribe. Probably in the form of giving them copies of the photos both he and Detective Grayson have taken.”

“You mean to tell me those two are working together? No wonder Detective Grayson was asking about our relationship earlier today at work!” Marinette gasps, sounding mildly horrified and betrayed.

“Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” Red Robin asks, lifting his head up and grinning deviously at her.

She smirks back, “Revenge?”

He nods—the sagely kind of nod. “Revenge.”

==–==

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |

@casual-darkness

[miracle-sham]

When Sitting on the Roof, We are but Coffee Sleuths.

| {Sequel to Death is the Stage, My Art is Your Grave.} |

| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] | | [DitSMAiYG Link] |

| Triggers/Warnings: Mentions of drugs/drug ring (in regards to a case), Mild language. |

| After a long day of boring casework, there's nothing better than getting a new commission, and then drinking coffee and having a chat on top of a roof with a certain bat. |

| Word Count: 3051 |

==–==

| A/N: First of all, I'd like to quickly thank everyone for all the positive response and support the original oneshot got on both Tumblr and Ao3! It really motivated and inspired me to continue with this Au (expect at least another sequel, maybe more if I get more inspo but even if I don't there's definitely gonna be one sequel minimum to this). I'd also like to mention, that this took a lot longer to write as I got a cold halfway through writing it and also it's romance based fluff (which is not my forté), but thanks to those who've waited for this! And finally, for reasons that I'll explain in a separate post later, it might be a "little" while before I can start work on the sequel to this one but it will get written at some point. |

| If you want to be tagged in future oneshots/fics, or a specific Au, then send me a DM or an ask! |

| Also side note, Don't Like? Don't Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

==–==

 It's been a month since Marinette got kidnapped, kissed Red Robin, and solved the Elemental Park Serial Killer case. For three weeks she's been held off active duty to make sure her bruised ribs heal but now that she's able to be on active duty again, all the available cases are those that are paperwork heavy. A small part of her misses the immediate healing of the Miraculous Cure but she's not Ladybug anymore and even if she was, it would raise too many flags for her to even use it anyway. But logic doesn't stop her from missing the days when she could literally and metaphorically magic away her aches and pains.

 Marinette groans and slumps into her chair, it's been a surprisingly slow day at the GCPD, so when her phone beeps rapidly for a few seconds, she thinks, please be something interesting, and can't help but take a quick glance to see what new notifications she has. The screen reads: '3 new messages from Red'. So she taps the notification and reads through each message.

 >RedRob: Hey, found some new evidence on our case, want to meet up for coffee to discuss it?

 >RedRob: Rooftop coffee after dark, of course.

 >RedRob: I mean I could waltz into a coffee shop during the day in my suit but that might get too much attention for case talk.

 Marinette snickers to herself as she reads the messages over a second time. She quickly taps out her response.

 >MariBlue: Will we need to worry about one of the other Gotham vigilantes crashing our coffee not-date?

 Almost instantly she receives a response.

 >RedRob: I'll bribe Oracle or Batgirl, maybe even Black Bat, into keeping the others away.

 She sends a heart emoji back, then returns to sorting out her boring paperwork.

 Detective Grayson raises an eyebrow at her from over the desk, clearly having caught her looking at her phone. “Red Robin again?”

 She flashes him a sheepish grin. “How'd you guess.”

 He gives her a deadpan stare. “He's the only person you respond to when working.”

 Marinette bites her lip. “Whoops, that obvious?”

 “Yes.” Detective Grayson hesitates for a second, he leans in closer—and like a teenage girl at a sleepover in a cheesy teen drama, asks, “So are you dating yet?”

 She shrugs. “Well neither of us have asked the other so not really.”

 “But you guys are perfect for each other!” He exclaims, gesturing towards her with an outstretched arm—very narrowly avoiding knocking anything off the desk.

 It's Marinette's turn to raise an eyebrow. “We literally have only seen or talked to each other when working…”

 “So? What do you call you quote unquote "not-dates"” He huffs, making air quotes as he speaks.

 She huffs and shakes her head. “There's a reason they're called "not-dates" and that's because we discuss work at them. And anyway it's too early to rush our relationship.”

 “Fair.” Detective Grayson stills, frowns and then almost hesitantly, he asks, “Is it because if the mask? The whole not knowing his real identity?”

 Marinette rolls her eyes and shakes her head again. “Nope, I couldn't care less about finding out his real identity—at least not without his consent that is.”

 He hums, a pensive look on his face. “So you're not curious?”

 She shrugs. “Not particularly, why?”

 Detective Grayson shrugs back. “Just wondering,” he leans back on his chair and for a split second, Marinette fears he might topple over but somehow he seems unaffected by gravity, “I think you're the first person I've met, who doesn't want to know who's behind a vigilante's mask.”

 A smile tugs at Marinette's lips. “I think it's kinda dumb that so many people are obsessed with the people behind the masks because if they're doing good, unmasking them will only deter them from continuing fighting the good fight and all that, y'know.”

 He nods slowly, “huh, that's one way of putting it I guess but I agree, the vigilantes do more for this city than people think they do.” Detective Grayson then tilts his head towards the Commissioner's office. “Anyway back to work, don't want to get in more trouble with the Commish than we are already!”

 Marinette huffs in amusement and rolls her eyes but complies nonetheless. Wouldn't do to get in trouble so soon after getting back onto active duty!

==–==

 It isn't until gone seven pm, that Marinette finally gets home. She slips through the door, locking it behind her. Now that she's in, the first thing she does, as she does every day, is check her online portfolio and commission site.

 Marinette plops herself down in her wheely chair and logs onto to her computer, going through all the verification and security Max had kindly added. A new commission notification grabs her attention. With three clicks, she brings up the new commission's details. She scrolls down to the name of the commissioner: one Mr 'T. Drake-Wayne'.

 Curious as to why the name sounds vaguely familiar, Marinette opens up a tab on Google with a hum and types in the name. Upon reading the top results, she half chokes in shock and thinks to herself, Are you kidding me? She blinks and breathes in, a small part of her very glad she wasn't drinking anything otherwise she definitely would've fully choked on that or spat it all up from the shock. I know a bunch of well-known celebrities have all commissioned me many times before, but still why the heck is a fortune 500 CEO commissioning me? I'm not Audrey Bourgeois, Gabriel Agreste, or even Valen-hecking-tino. I do celebrities, not fortune 500. The heck. What. The. Actual. Heck.

 Eyes wide and gobsmacked, Marinette shakes her head and clicks back to her latest commission's details page to read through the actual commission. After reading the first line, she scrambles for her sketchbook and begins jotting down notes and scribbling down ideas.

 Half an hour in, Marinette takes a break to sort out and eat dinner, no point designing on an empty stomach but once she's done eating and washed up, she goes straight back to designing.

 Even at a quarter past midnight, she's still at it—surprisingly only three drafts in and so thoroughly lost in her own head in designing, Marinette nearly misses the knocking against her window facing the fire escape.

 The rapid rap-tap-tap spooks her so much that she falls out of her chair with an “Eep!”

 Marinette, face flushing bright red, scrambles up and scurries over to the window in question. Shoving her blinds out the way, she stares through the window and is greeted with the absolutely glorious sight of a beaming and uninjured Red Robin holding two takeaway coffee cups on the fire escape. He waves at her with one hand and gestures for her to join him on the fire escape.

 She can't help but grin back at him and deftly opens the window and slinks out onto the fire escape. He hands a coffee cup towards her and instead of taking it, Marinette gives him a good ol' bearhug—smooshing pressing her face into his Kevlar armoured chest. Which is unsurprisingly, very uncomfortable. She shifts her head to stare up at him (as he's at least whole head taller than her) “Hey,” she greets.

 Awkwardly hugging her back, as to not spill either of the coffees in the process, “hey yourself,” Red Robin responds, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.

 Marinette pulls back from the hug and nabs the coffee cup that had been offered to her before their hug. “Thank you~!”

 “No problem.” He then gestures towards the fire escape stairs leading to the roof, “after you.”

 “So which of our cases did you manage to get a lead for?” She asks, making her way up to the roof.

 “The one pertaining to the new drug ring in the fashion district. I've narrowed down where they're storing the drugs to potentially three warehouses near Miller Harbour.” Red Robin answers, following after her.

Reaching the roof, Marinette sits down on the half wall around the roof edge. She glances over at Red Robin as he joins her on the improvised seat. “That's the drug ring dealing Miraclo right?”

“Yeah, that's the one.” He pauses to take a sip of his coffee, “I got the intel from an old friend of Catwoman's called Mackey lives in an apartment that overlooks the Harbour and saw a shipment of the drug arrive at the warehouses.”

 Taking a sip of her own coffee, Marinette raises an eyebrow. “And will Detective Grayson and I will be able to get that intel as witness statement?”

 Red Robin nods. “Yep, Catwoman's vouching for you both.”

 She jerks back in surprise, nearly toppling off the half wall but managing to cling to the edge in time to keep her from falling. Miraculously somehow managing to avoid dropping or spilling her coffee. Oof, if it wasn't for my stint in Spandex I definitely would've made a fool of myself in front of Red Robin. And here I thought that part of my life had since passed. Marinette thinks to herself, wincing at the newly gained superficial graze across her palms. She clears her throat and attempts to look like she didn't just nearly fall off a half wall. “Catwoman's vouching for us? Since when? I've literally never encountered her before.”

 Red Robin, the traitor, snorts at her predicament. “You are the epitome of elegance. And Detective Grayson's bumped into her a few times on the job.”

 “Thanks.” She responds drily, layering on the sarcasm thickly. She shakes her head and sighs. “So do you know what the addresses are for the warehouses and this Mackey's apartment?”

 He takes an excruciatingly slow sip of his coffee before speaking. “Of course I can, what kind of vigilante do you take me for?” He then proceeds to rattle off the addresses.

 Which Marinette jots down on the napkin that came with her coffee, and puts it into a pocket for safekeeping. “Thank you.” With it written down, she pauses then starts kicking her legs in the air. She sniffs. “And I take you for the kind that flirts with innocent police officers.”

 Red Robin grins at her as he gently elbows her in the ribs. “I don't hear you complaining.”

 Marinette scoffs and slaps her hand to her chest in an overly dramatic mock of shock. “Unfair! If I complained I wouldn't get any hugs or kisses from you!”

 Humming he wraps an arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss to her temple. “That's true, what a shame it would be for you to miss out on all those hugs.”

 She hums back and the two ease into a comfortable silence; leaning against each other and sipping their coffees whilst staring at the night sky.

 Once Marinette gets halfway through her coffee, she glances at Red Robin and hesitates, her earlier conversation with Detective Grayson springing to mind. “Communication is key in healthy relationships,” she prefaces, “so are you okay with our current relationship? Y'know the flirting, the not-dates, the whole me not knowing your identity?”

 Red Robin laughs, sounding slightly bitter. “Of course I'm fine with the flirting and not-dates but I'm not going to lie and say I don't have any worries over you not knowing my identity. It's one of the reasons a relationship I had with a fellow mask didn't work out.” Rubbing at his jaw, he tilts his face away from her slightly, as though reminiscing about something. He then shakes his head and turns back to her. “Really, I ought to be asking you that. So what about you, are you okay with how our relationship is?”

 Marinette hums. “This isn't the first time relationship I've had with a masked hero.” Then takes a calm sip of her coffee.

 “So you've got a thing for masks then huh? Lucky me I guess.” He responds, smirking mischievously, and whilst she can't see the rest of his face thanks to the cowl, Marinette just knows that he's wiggling his eyebrows at her from underneath that cowl.

 His comment nearly sends her tumbling off the half wall—again. She coughs and splutters in laughter as she nearly spits up her sip of coffee. It takes her a full thirty seconds to recover and mock gripes, “remind me why I love you again.”

 Red Robin cocks his head to the side and grins. “Because I bring you coffee?”

 She huffs, “good point.”

 “So back to the mask thing, can I ask what happened with your masked hero relationship?” He asks, tone hesitant. He stares at her, ready to back off the topic at the slightest sign of discomfort from her.

 Marinette hisses through her teeth and states, “I can trust you.”

 His stare conveys an 'I would hope so' whilst he bobs his head a little in a 'yes you can' and a 'please continue' gesture.

 She takes a deep breath before speaking, “I used to be a hero, back when I lived in Paris.”

 “Oh?” Red Robin freezes, thrown off guard by her admission.

 Nodding, Marinette continues. “It was difficult. We started when we were barely teens and had no training and no support except for temporary heroes we could bring in when the battles got too hard for just me and my partner to handle. When we started, we were repeatedly told to never, under any circumstances, let anyone find out our identities. My partner and I, neither of us knew who the other was beneath the mask. And we only knew the identities of the temporary heroes because we gave them the ability to become superheroes. But even then we didn't always know their real identities and they certainly never knew ours.”

 “Yikes.” Is all he can respond with, mind racing with questions. “That can't have been good, at least I had Batman and Nightwing when I was starting out, but you had no one to talk to about being a mask, outside the mask.”

 She flashes him a watery smile and sighs. “No, I did have someone. Tikki. But we're uh, not in contact any more. Since I retired.”

 Still, Red Robin makes a noise of concern at that.

 “Anyway, one thing led to another led to another, and my partner found out my identity.” Marinette puts her coffee down then tips her head back and closes her eyes. “We started dating not long after that. But once we defeated the BBEG terrorising Paris and some… concerning things came to light, our—we,” She shakes her head, “we realised that because of that, neither of us were emotionally able to continue our relationship in a romantic way. So we decided to stay friends and I—uh, I retired and moved to Gotham.”

 He puts his coffee down as well, and pulls her into a tight hug, although making sure it wasn't too constricting as to not make her uncomfortable. “I'm sorry.”

 She leans into the hug, rests her head on his shoulder, and delicately wraps her arms around him in return. “What? Why? It's not your fault.”

 Red Robin frowns, not that she can see in their current position, “I know but no one should be forced into becoming a hero at such a young age with no support network.”

 Huffing, Marinette buries her face in his shoulder, somewhat muffling her voice but not enough to make her unintelligible, “what about Spoiler? She became a hero around that age and had no support network.”

 He sighs. “Spoiler chose to become a vigilante, she wasn't forced. And anyway, she had Robin and the rest of the bats to support her once they realised what she was doing.”

 “Hmm… fair.” Marinette pulls back from the hug and pauses. “On a lighter note, I got a commission on my fashion site from Tim Drake-Wayne!”

Red Robin raises an eyebrow and with poorly concealed amusement, responds, “Oh? And what's so special about him”

 She rolls her eyes at him. “He's the youngest fortune five hundred CEO, founded the Neon Knights among other charities, and often donates to various charities around Gotham! Plus Wayne Enterprises is one of, if not the most ethical company in the fortune five hundred bracket. Employees get living stipends, and training and higher education paid by the company. They get healthcare and dental insurance. They get flexible work hours, paid breaks, and receive above minimum wage pay!”

 He laughs. “I guess he is a pretty decent sounding guy then.”

 “Mhmm.”

 “So what's the commission then? Or is it a secret?” He teases, leaning towards her.

 Marinette dramatically places her hand over her heart. “I guess I can spare you the details this one time.”

 “Wooh!”

 She bites her lip before launching into a long ramble about the commission, gushing over what design and colour palette she's thinking of going with, what bots and bobs and patterns to add, what stitch to use and how to make sure it fits his style, etc.

 Red Robin spends the entire time listening attentively, despite not really understanding half the fashion terms, and staring at her like a love-struck puppy.

 “Damn, I love you!” He exclaims once she finishes speaking, then leans in to kiss her on the lips.

 Marinette bursts into giggles and kisses him back. Her giggles are seemingly infectious, as once they part from the kiss, both are giggling and flushed red.

 A bright flash of white followed by a camera shutter sound immediately distracts them both. They just manage to catch sight of Nightwing swinging away.

 She gives him a look, which is somewhat less effective as she's still smiling from the kiss. “What happened to bribing Oracle, Black Bat, or Batgirl?”

 Red Robin groans and drops his face into his hands. “Clearly Nightwing was able to one-up my bribe. Probably in the form of giving them copies of the photos both he and Detective Grayson have taken.”

 “You mean to tell me those two are working together? No wonder Detective Grayson was asking about our relationship earlier today at work!” Marinette gasps, sounding mildly horrified and betrayed.

 “Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” Red Robin asks, lifting his head up and grinning deviously at her.

 She smirks back, “Revenge?”

 He nods—the sagely kind of nod. “Revenge.”

==–==

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |

@casual-darkness