#First his nastiness is outed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

phantom-0-writer · 6 months

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second chances don’t come for free

cw/tw: child death and child abuse and related traumas

7652 words (!?) ao3

Everyone in the family had secrets, and everyone knew that everyone in the family had secrets. It was a promise that came with the crest they all wore on their chest. Some were more open than others, like the way that Richard always avoided tight ropes despite his impeccable balance, and how Father never enters the 4th room on the west wing of the 3rd floor.

Damian had secrets too.

After a relatively calm night by Gotham’s standards they returned to a briefing for their next big mission. Damian was one of the last to return, busy settling a mugging attempt on his return.

“Good, looks like everyone’s here.” Father announced, gathering the attention of the rest of the occupants of the room.

“Looks like a full house.” Richard commented lightly looking around as everyone gathered around the computer. Todd leaned casually on the railway to the changing room away from the crowd but close enough to be included, Drake was clicking away at the keyboard as usual. Brown and Cain stuffing in their last cookie before butting the container away. Thomas stood idly by waiting for Father to explain what their next operation was. Barabra likely was listening from a separate location as usual.

“We’ve received a tip from a trusted source that the League is up to suspicious activity.” Father began, as Drake pulled up a few schematics on the screen.

“When are they not?” Brown scoffed, lightly jabbing Richard in the arm. He chuckled lightly.

“Naturally,” Father continued, “It would be irresponsible for us to all go and leave Gotham unprotected so Spoiler, Orphan, and Signal will stay to cover the city while the rest of us are gone. I’ve informed Batwoman as well, and she’s available to assist you if the situation demands.” Father paused to give the rest an opening to speak, when no one did so, he continued. “We’ve discovered that they’ve found a rare washup of some form of solidified Lazarus Waters. We don’t have much information on the substance itself apart from what's essentially speculation. Regardless if the League found a way to solidify the Waters, there is no telling what they would find themselves in possession of, weapons, tech, humans at a level we’ve never seen.” Damian knew all too well what the League was capable of. After all, he had been the League. Father continued explaining the details of the plan and the positions each of them were meant to play.

It would be the first time Damian returned to a League of Assassins base since he had first left them 7 years ago and he had met his Father at his own doorstep for the very first time at the age of 10. It had only been the lifetime's worth of rigorous training that kept Damian from curling into his gut at the sight of those eyes.

The eyes that haunted Damian the last days he had stayed in the league when Mother had ordered him to pack anything he wished to take with him. The look of terror in the eyes that look just like the one that calls him Champ while he ruffles his hair and tells him to go sleep early since it was a school night.

Damian found himself freshly showered and comfortably under his duvet, then a moment later he was pulling them off to go through the motions of his day. Next thing Damian knew he was in his Robin uniform in a jet that would be taking him to the sight of his biggest mistake.

The League had always kept a close record of Damian’s activities since he had been taken out of his test tube. Every daily schedule, no matter how mundane, every mission report, no matter how simple, was expertly stored in the League’s database.

That was with the exception of the final test. The League had taken extensive measures to scrub away any traces of the final test before Damian had gone to live with Father.

When Father and Drake had meticulously gone through every file about Damian on his arrival to the manor, Damian was told his first kill had been at the age of 4, a politician in his house in the capital city not far from the League’s Nanda Parbat base.

Though Damian had only understood what it meant to kill - to watch death - only 3 days before he had met his father.

“Damian.” Richard called, Damian hadn’t noticed that he had been approached, “Are you sure you're clear for this mission.” He sounded concerned.

“Yes.” Damian responded with a frown. He had his own mission, he could not afford to be benched.

“You seem kind of out of it. I know you don’t have the best memories with the League and none of us are going to force you to go if you're not ready,” Richard was trying to seem approachable and understanding, and perhaps Damian should be more reciprocative of his efforts. But he ‘knew’? What exactly did Richard Grayson ‘know’ about the League? About what happened to Damian in the League?

Damian bit his tongue, there was no point in lashing out before a mission only for it to impede needlessly on their cohesiveness “Would you prefer for me to bounce off the walls in excitement?” Damian allowed the snark to roll off his tongue, and raised a brow at the older boy.

Grayson let himself laugh at that, “No, I suppose not.” And with that Damian was alone again.

When Damian was 3, Mother had taken him to watch the older kids train. Damian had noticed someone else there, another boy around his age. They looked similar even, but not identical. Damian remembered the jealousy he felt when he started noticing the similarities the boy shared with Mother’s features, the audacity that he looked more like Damian’s mother than Damian himself. When he told Mother, she had found it humorous and praised Damian for looking more like his father insead.

While Damian sat on the bench with mother, their escorts behind them, the boy sat alone at a bench further away. “Damian, do you know who that boy is?” Mother had leaned in to ask him.

“No, Mother.” He answered honestly.

“That is Danyal al-Ghul, your twin brother by 76 seconds.”

“What is a brother, Mother?”

“Your opponent in all that you do, Damian, he is your enemy. You must always remember that.” Damian made his best efforts to remember that, because of course Mother was always right.

Damian and Danyal had been assigned rooms across the hall from each other but they never met outside of coincidental encounters. And whenever they had, someone had always been there to remind Damian that Danyal was not to be trusted, that he would get under Damian’s skin, find ways to exploit Damian, a cheat and a smear on the al-Ghul bloodline. One of his teachers at the time had told him Mother would’ve done well to leave that one in the tube he was born from. The people of the League would not dare lie to an heir of the Demon’s Head, so Damian believed them.

One night, after a particularly tiring day of training, Damian found he couldn’t sleep and decided to sneak out onto the roof. Damian had not been expecting anyone to be there but he was surprised to see the boy there. He considered his options, assessing his opponent like he had been taught to do. The enemy, Danyal, seemed to act purposefully unaware of Damian’s presence there. There were no weapons stored on him, and his posture was incredibly lax and he simply stared at the stars in the night sky.

With a sigh, Damian sat silently at his side of the building, and looked into the far expenses of the League's base and the mountains that surrounded it. Though Damian had intended to be alone, he found an unfamiliar sense of comfort from the un-accosting presence of the other, unlike the others of the League who always seemed to need to say something to him. But Damian knew, regardless, the boy was not to be trusted.

The next night Damain found himself climbing out of his window again, and found Danyal already there. For the next three months, every night Damian would sneak out of his window onto the rooftop and find Danyal already there, and the both of them would sit there in a comfortable silence, back turned to the other.

One day Damian had been sent out for a mission, nothing he wasn’t used to. Except the location was quite far so he had to leave early in the morning and would be returning much later in the day. He had managed to complete his mission much earlier than anticipated, and so with this newly earned time, Damian snuck off to explore instead of heading straight to the rendezvous point. Easily pickpocketing a handful of cash unnoticed from a preoccupied group of wealthy looking men, Damian pursued the options.

Perhaps he could buy a toy, a train set the other kids were ogling at. Except that would be much too difficult to hide, and needless to say Mother would not approve of such distractions. Damian overheard some others talking about the deliciousness of the sweets in one store, and he made up his mind. He bought 4 different types, not sure which would be the best, handing over his money to the clerk and heading out of the store.

Damian found himself anticipating the rooftop of his room, and wondering how Danyal would react to Damian’s new found treasure. Slipping the chocolates out of their hiding spot, Damian snuck all 4 bars onto his usual spot on the roof. Letting the wrapper crinkle loudly as he purposely fiddled with it unnecessarily, Damian successfully earned a curious glance from his roofmate. Damian took the first bite of the bar labeled ‘Dark Chocolate’ and let himself enjoy the bitter sweetness of it, as Danyal looked at the candy bars spread haphazardly across the rooftop.

Not liking that he was beginning to lose Danyal’s attention, and not receiving the eager response he was expecting, Damian found himself sticking a piece of chocolate towards the other boy, offering it to him. Danyal hesitantly took it, eyed it cautiously. Some of the chocolate had already melted on Damian’s fingers. “What is this?” Danyal asked him.

“It’s chocolate.” Damian explained to the other six-year old, not that he had really known what chocolate was either.

“Chocolate.” Danyal repeated, before carefully nibbling on the side of it. His eyes went wide in surprise at the sweetness, and he looked up at Damian in disbelief. “Woah.” He breathed, taking a much bigger bite.

Damian, having been the one to discover this, smiled pridefully at the other boy, “There's different ones too.” He proclaimed.

“Really?” Danyal asked wide-eyed crawling closer to Damian who turned around to face him.

At the end of that night, they were short 4 candy bars as they tried to keep their whispers hushed and the melted chocolate on their fingers left stains on the floor of the roof. Damian wondered how Danyal was supposed to be the villainous enemy everyone told him he was, but Damian was not so easy to trust, after all he was an assassin of the League, the heir to the Demon’s Head.

Every night they would meet on the rooftops, exchanging souvenirs, sharing snacks, telling each other stories of the stars and mountain demons. After a while Damian had forgotten what he had been warned of for his whole life, and would look forward to meeting with Danyal every night. Maybe Danyal wasn’t his brother, like Mother had said.

Perhaps Mother was mistaken.

One night, Danyal didn’t show. Damian waited for him for an hour, but the other’s side of the roof remained unattended. Finally, having had enough, Damian skillfully snuck over to the other side of the roof and peeked through his neighbor’s window to see if he had fallen asleep, but there was no sign of Danyal in his room, either.

Feelings Damian didn’t understand swirled in his gut, the ones he got when the mission unexpectedly goes off script, or the sharp end of a weapon comes closer than he would’ve liked. Hurriedly, he slipped down, letting himself stay hidden in the shadows, as he searched for the boy that wasn’t his brother. The kitchen, the hall, the training room, the weapons room, the barracks, the field, the river in the back, Danyal was nowhere.

Tired, and out of breath, Damian tried to formulate a plan. Where could Danyal have gone?

“Young Master Damian.” At the voice Damian instinctively reached for his sword only to find it not there. Had he forgotten to bring it with him? Damian assessed who had caught him, and easily recognized by the uniform that it was one of the servants.

“What are you doing here?” Damian demanded, frustration at his futile efforts at finding his… -at finding Danyal.

“I am cleaning the walkways, as we are to do every 10 days, Young Master. It is more convenient to do it at night, since there are less people around.” The servant explained, bowing his head. They seemed scared of what Damian may do to them. But when Damian did not respond, the servant hesitated before speaking again, “If I may ask, Young Master, what are you doing here at this late hour?”

Damian turned to the servant again, if they had been out cleaning as they said for the previous hours past curfew then perhaps they had seen or heard where Danyal had gone. “Do you know of Danyal al-Ghul?” Damian made sure his tone was void of emotions, it would not do either of them well for it to spread that Damian had found himself fond of Danyal.

The servant’s face paled slightly at the name, there was a small stutter before they finally spoke, “Young Master Danyal should be in his room at this hour.” The servant began fiddling, with the handle of the broomstick.

Why was he lying? “Where is he?” Damian kept his voice even, demanding respect.

“I- I do not know where the Young Master is.” The servant pleaded, but Damian didn’t believe him.

Anger growing at the situation, “Tell me.” He demanded.

“The Demon’s Head, and The Lady Talia were to speak with him.” The servant spluttered out, caving under the pressure.

Why would Mother and Grandfather seek out Danyal at this hour of the night? The feeling from before only strengthened as Damian rushed to find him.

“Damian.” Mother asked surprised, catching him easily at the door, “What are you doing here?” Damain tried to get a look inside the room, but Mother had positioned her body to block his view.

“Mother, shouldn’t you be asleep by now.” Damian asked, trying to find the casualness in his voice despite feeling like every vein in his body was being controlled to squeeze his chest.

Mother looked down at him in amusement, “I should say that to you.” Damian tried to force his way through the door, but he was no match for Mother, “Why are you here Damian?” She repeated.

“I would like to speak with Grandfather.” He tried, lies slipping easily out of his mouth.

“I’m sure it can wait till the morning, your Grandfather is tired from a hard day's work.” When Mother pushed her hair behind her shoulder, Damian wondered why there were splotches of fresh blood on her hand.

Damian stood there in defiance, and Mother seemed to consider him for a while. “Perhaps since you're merely a child you wouldn’t understand.” Mother thought aloud.

“I am seven, Mother, nearly eight. I am hardly a child, and have far surpassed the many of the teachers you’ve assigned me. I can understand.” Damian demanded. He needed to find Danyal.

Mother straightened, and with a nod, moved from the entrance allowing Damian to enter. There on the floor was a trail of blood, that led to one of the darker corners of the room, and Damian couldn’t tell what the heap on the floor was.

“Damian, you should be in your room.” Grandfather chided, sitting in his chair by the fireplace. The darkness of the room finally became accustomed to Damian, as he began making out the details of the room. Grandfather didn’t have his cane, instead it was left closer to the heap in the corner. The heap had its hair cut messily just like Danyal’s always was, and its hands were smaller than an adults, as it tried to bundle itself together. The heap moved slightly, it’s head turning to look at Damian. Damian drew in his breath, at the sight of Danyal’s fluttering consciousness on the floor.

Mother was right, Damian didn’t understand.

Grandfather followed his gaze, and nodded understandingly, placing a lit pipe between his lips. “Danyal is simply being punished.” Grandfather explained. Damian couldn't find the word to ask what for, but Grandfather explained anyway. “He seems to think he is your equal, in the way he speaks and acts. As if he is one of the respectable heirs of the Demon’s Head.” Damian didn’t understand what that meant either. If Danyal was meant to be his brother, would he not have equal claim as heir as Damian did.

“He is my equal. Mother said so herself.” Damian stated, not sure the source of his deep rage at his Grandfather and Mother at that moment.

Grandfather turned a questioning look at Mother. Mother turned to Damian. “What are you talking about, my son?”

“You said that Danyal was my brother.” Damian said, it was true that Mother had said this, regardless of whether Danyal should be considered Damian’s brother, “A brother is an opponent, someone waiting to strike me down at any moment. My enemy in all that I do.” Damian recited Mother’s own words, though he could not put his faith in them. Danyal had always listened to Damian, understood Damian, laughed at his jokes and added with his own, always the first one to comfort Damain. They weren’t brothers. “If he is to be my enemy, should he not be on the same grounds as I, as a true equal in skill?”

Grandfather considered what he said, and shared another look with Mother. “I suppose I see the reason in your words.” Grandfather turned to him again, “Why have you come Damian?”

“I simply was taking a late night walk since I couldn’t sleep, and I thought I would perhaps feel better if I came to visit you. I did not expect to see Mother here.” Damian was surprised how easily it was to lie to the only people he had trusted for the previous year of his life.

Grandfather let his hand rest on Damian’s shoulder “Take him back and dress his wounds.” He ordered Damian, “And do not trust his words, he simply wishes to get under your skin. Manipulate you.” The doors to the room shut behind them as Damian carried the body of his battered enemy back to his room, and patched up his wounds.

Danyal was sitting on Damian’s bed, fluttering on the line of consciousness. “What you said before,” his voice was barely above a whisper and he spoke slowly as his words meshed together. Damian listened raptly, “to Grandfather, do you-” Danyal seemed to be having a hard time forming the question, but Damian understood.

“It was the truth.” Damain said easily, Danyal's face fell at the admission, but Damian was quick to explain, “It was true that Mother told me what ‘brother’ meant, and that was the true meaning of brother. But I do not think of you as my brother.” Danyal examined him for a moment, trying to determine if he was being honest.

“I trust you.” Danyal said with more conviction than Damian thought he could possess in that moment. He trusted Damian’s words and actions when not even Mother or Grandfather did.

Finishing with the last bandaid, Damian looked at Danyal. “I trust you, too.” Trust seemed to light a word for Danyal, but Damian was not sure what word he should have used instead.

That was because Damian did not know what love was, and because Damian al-Ghul loved his brother.

“Mother you called for me?” Damian sat in the chair opposite of Mother’s study.

“Damain, you’re here.” She greeted, not looking up from her screens. Damain waited for her to finish what she was working on, arms crossed impatiently. “You do remember who your father is?” Mother started, turning the screen with two of Father’s well-known persona on display. One of billionaire Bruce Wayne greeting guests at a function, and the other of the Batman perched near the head of a gargoyle.

“Of course, I remember, Mother.” Damian sighed in resignation. “Bruce Wayne and his alter ego, Batman.” He recited.

“Good. You are a decade old now, and there is not much the League has left to teach you. So, in one week's time you will be going to stay with your Father.” Mother said bluntly.

Damian’s brows creased together, “For how long?”

Mother looked at him with authority as the next in line for the Demon’s Head, “For the foreseeable future.”

“What!” Damian stood in indignation, “Mother that's unreasonable, how could you make me-”

“It is an order Damain.” Mother said with finality.

Damian frowned, “And what of Danyal then? He is Father’s child as well, I doubt he would sit by knowing he has another child here.”

“An intelligent conclusion.” Mother praised, “That is why you and Danyal will have a final test, the victor will be the one who is sent to your Father.” Damian’s eyes lit up at the concept, Danyal never talked about how he trained or what skills he best utilized, other than once slipping that he prefers to use katanas too, Damian did not know much of Danyal skills. This was finally Damian’s chance to see how capable of a fighter Danyal is. Despite whoever won, Damian was sure, even without knowing his father yet, that he would come back to retrieve the other.

“When will the spar be a mother?” Damian asked.

“In 4 days, you will be expected in the main courtyard by noon.” Mother said dismissively.

The day came both faster and slower than Damian would’ve liked. Wearing his usual gear, and his swords by his side he headed towards the field mother had instructed him to be at. Damian had waited in anticipation for this day, making sure all his swords were properly cleaned and sharpened. Of course they always were, but he had taken extra care that they would be in their best condition. His attire had been carefully selected by himself, a measure he usually wouldn’t take.

Danyal and Damian stood facing each other, waiting for the signal to begin. Mother and Grandfather watched them closely from their spots in the audience, as the two exchanged blows, swords slidinging across each other, dodges and blocks, evasive flips, feint attacks, Danyal punched him in the gut once when Damian hadn’t been prepared. Damian let the battle engulf his senses, body moving in flow with his weapon, switching seamlessly between offense and defense until Damian found the perfect opening for an attack and he took it, knowing he would be named victorious.

Damian’s katana sunk into Danyal’s chest, a gasp of pain escaping the other boy, as he looked down at the point of impact. Confusion filtered across his face for only a moment, and before Damian could question it, Danyal’s expression slowly morphed into fear as Mother and Grandfather approached them.

“Damian, congratulations are in order.” His Mother praised him, stepping in between him and Danyal. “I knew from the beginning you would come out victorious.”

“Thank you, Mother.” Damian tried to look at Danyal. “What now?”

“We will be taking your brother to the Lazarus Pits, and let Fate decree any value to his life.” Mother explained, turning to Danyal and pulling Damian’s sword out of his chest, Danyal yelped in pain.

Damian wondered if Danyal had been hurt during their fight.

Damian bent down to load Danyal onto his back and carry him to the mystic waters and let him heal so he could join him at Father’s later. Perhaps Father would not be as keen as Mother on fostering their brotherhood, and they could train and fight together like they always talked about.

“Damian.” Danyal croaked out lowly, if his face wasn’t already positioned near Damian’s ear he likely wouldn’t have heard.

“Shh.” Damian chided, “Mother will notice.”

“Damian.” Danyal called again, “Promise, you won’t forget about me.”

Checking to see that Mother was still occupied in a conversation with one of the servants, “Don’t worry, I'm going to take you with me. Or I’ll come back to get you.”

“Promise.” Danyal asked again.

Damian sighed, Danyal could be so stubborn sometimes, even with strange requests “Fine, I promise.” he rolled his eyes. Danyal didn’t say anything after that, instead resting his head on Damian’s shoulder.

“Place him in the waters, Damian.” Mother instructed.

Danyal’s body floated in the waters lifelessly for a bit, and Damian wondered why nothing was happening. And then suddenly, as if it were the mouth of some vicious beast, a gaping vortex circled around Danyal swallowing his body whole. Just as suddenly as it had erupted, the vortex disappeared and the waters returned to a deathly still seconds later. Everyone surrounding the waters watched in anticipation, but when nothing happened and enough time had passed, everyone headed back to their tasks.

Mother stayed for a moment longer, “It seems even Fate, too, was eager to be rid of you.” she muttered, before heading off.

Damian was the only one left there, waiting for Danyal to walk out and tease Damian for getting worried that it was taking so long. But the sun was beginning to set, and the waters had not moved at all, and there was no sign of Danyal.

“Young Master, Lady Talia says that you should return to your chambers.” A servant stood by the gates holding a plate of food for him. Or was it for Danyal? There was only one serving.

Damian turned to the servant, and he asked in a voice shakier than he had been expecting of himself, “Why hasn’t Danyal come out yet?”

The servant seemed taken aback by the question, before their face morphed into something sadder that Damian didn’t understand. “Young Master Danyal will not be returning to us.” They explained softly.

“Why not?” Damian demanded, confused and angry. His eyes were beginning to burn.

The servant hesitated before answering him, “Because Young Master Danyal is dead.”

“What difference should that make, people die all the time?”

“It is as easy for the dead to return as your grandfather may make it seem, Young Master.” The servant spoke again, their voice gentle and tone careful. “Usually when people die they are gone for good, and they don’t get to come back. Not even with the Lazarus Waters. Second chances do not come for free, after all.”

Damian let the words sink in. Danyal- Danyal wasn’t coming back?

It was dark out now, almost the time the two of them usually met on the rooftop. Danyal would be waiting for him there, like he was every night.

“You're lying.” He accused the servant, as he ran to his room, food left forgotten as Damian quickly made his way onto the familiar rooftops.

Damian waited there, the servant’s words echoing in his ears at every second Danyal didn’t show up. An hour passed, and then two. And Damian considered for the first time that the servant had been telling him the truth.

For the first time since he made his first visit to the roof of his room, Damian al-Ghul sat unaccompanied.

After six years of carrying out various missions as an assassin, Damian al-Ghul cried when he learned what death meant.

For the first time in his life, Damian al-Ghul cried when he realized he was alone.

“We’re here.” Red Robin announced, as the plane landed silently about 15 miles away from base like they had planned the night before.

“Oracle, testing comms and visuals,” Nightwing spoke into his earpiece.

“All good on my end.” Her voice echoed in all of their ears.

“Okay, just like we discussed, Robin and Red Hood will head to the surveillance room and get a location for where the experimentation is taking place. Nightwing and I will be on standby until the information is provided, Red Robin collects samples and information in the time that we have.” Father went over the plan again.

Robin stealthy led the two of them through the LoA’s familiar layout, and the mission went smoothly. Within the next two hours they had the location of the experimentation site. It was on base, but a further location, so Nightwing and Batman headed there, ready to collect whatever information they could. Downloading the files for the surveillance and sending the access over to Oracle, their job should be done, and they were set to wait at the rendezvous point until further orders, or back up was requested.

“Where are you going, Brat? We’re supposed to head that way.” Red Hood chastised as Damian took them off course.

“Then go that way, if you wanna be such a goody-goody.” Damian shot back easily. Knowing the route to his destination easily. Damian kept to the least used route.

“What’s with you, today? Pissy about not getting to see your Mommy?” Red Hood snarked, still following behind him.

Damian wasn’t going to justify that with a response. The green of the Lazarus Waters came into view. A shiver went up his spine but he ignored it.

“Robin. What the hell are we doing here?” Red Hood demanded, eyeing the familiar green with contempt. Damian bent down to pick a handful of stay dandelions from the corner of the unused ally, and easily jumped over the gates surrounding the water. “Damian.” Jason hissed, “What are you doing?”

“Relax.” Damian sighed, bending down near the waters, “I just came to give my greetings to… someone.” To his brother. Danyal was is his brother. Despite the mask hiding his face, Damian could see Jason’s posture soften.

“Make it quick.” Jason huffed, letting Damian have some pseudo-privacy by turning his back to him. Damian set the flowers he had picked near the edge of the water, only noticing that the temperature had dropped when the wind blew a slight chill at the exposed skin of his face. It wasn’t temperatures Damian couldn’t handle, Gotham was often dreary and chilly even in her summers. But they weren’t in Gotham. They were in the Middle East, where they would consider themselves unlucky when the winters got this cold.

“Hood, do you-” Damian was cut off by the loud acidic bubbling of the previously calm green waters.

“What the-” Red Hood balked, turning around alarmed.

Damian backed away in alarm, the edge of the waters expanding to swallowing the flowers he had laid down. The two brothers could do nothing but watch in suspense as the waters started swirling into a vortex garnering attention they had been trying to avoid. Just as suddenly as it had started the waters returned to their previously calm state, only for the surface to be broken by what looked like a young child, trying desperately to keep himself afloat and get to land.

Damian and Red Hood were too busy holding off the assault from the small force the assassins had managed to form together to help the child. The second either of them turned their back to the assaulters, the assassins would take the opening to finish them. By the time they had dealt with their attackers the boy had already brought himself to shore, hacking up water.

Familiar choppy black hair, and blue eyes Damian could never forget. “Danyal.” Damian found himself gasping, body frozen not from the cold.

“Don’t mean to ruin your meet cute, but look like they brought their friends.” Red Hood warned as more assassins surrounded them.

“We need to leave. Now.” Damian told him decisively.

“Wow I never would’ve guessed.” Red Hood snarked back.

“Call for an extraction.” Damian huffed annoyed, blocking an attack from the left. There weren’t many well trained members currently aware of them, but they knew better than to wait for backup to show up.

“Red Robin, what’s your eta to the jet? Team 1 needs an emergency extraction.” Oracle spoke through the main line of comms.

“I can be there in 10 minutes.” Red Robin responded easily, “What’s the situation?”

“We’ve been made.” Red Hood reported back disarming his attacker and knocking them out.

“Will likely need medical attention.” Damian added, looking back at Danyal, who only now seemed to be registering his surroundings.

“What happened?” Nightwing asked, concerned at Damian’s statement.

“Not for us, for our new little stowaway.” Red Hood explained finishing off the last of the assassin, before turning around to face Danyal.

“Explain.” Batman demanded

“Perhaps now is not the best time or place for that, Father.” Damian snapped back.

Danyal stood scarily still from the bay of the Lazarus Waters, wet and dripping, and despite the chilly temperature and his wet clothes he didn’t seem cold. If Jason had not tried to approach Danyal as well, Damian would’ve thought he was simply a figment of his imagination.

“Hey, kid.” Red Hood put his arms out to show he meant no threat. “Do you know how you got here?” He tried to make his voice soft and approachable but the voice modulator of his helmet was not doing him any favors.

Danyal didn’t respond, eyeing the both of them carefully. They let him, not making any movements that may scare him. The world seems to go still around Damian. Go colder.

“I’m in the jet, heading your way.” Red Robin reported over the comms.

“We’re coming to find you too.” Nightwing added, Father presumably with him.

Neither Jason or Damian made any moves.

“Team 1, do you copy?” Oracle asked when neither of them sent a signal for receiving the message.

Damian wondered what he should do? How was he supposed to approach Danyal, and begin to explain what was happening? Damian wasn’t even sure what was happening.

“Team 1?” Father repeated.

Do something, Damian.

“Copy.” Red Hood clicked into the comms and everything rushed into motion.

At Red Hood’s response and the rapid movements of the wind at the approaching jet approaching overhead, Danyal dashed away alarmed.

“Wait-” Damian called, running after him. But Danyal only seemed more distressed at being chased. He ran through small crevices Damian was too large to fit through, trying to deter him. But Damian followed regardless. Finally catching up to him where he knew that alleyway to come to an end, Damian caught sight of him, reaching out to grab his arm. Only for it to fall through as if nothing was there.

As if Danyal wasn’t really there.

After the failed attempt at contact from Damian, Danyal was only able to get so far before he seemed to trip, his foot catching on something that Damian couldn’t see.

Why had Damian’s hand just gone through him like that?

Damian began to question whether Danyal truly was in front of him or if it was just some sort of illusion. Damian was quickly reassured of the validity of his vision when a sharp rock Danyal launched let blood drip on his skin. The hiss of pain was real. And so was Danyal.

Damian didn’t stop his domino from falling off his face, from the rock’s impact. Danyal stared at him. “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize me?” Damian tried to laugh, but it sounded pathetic.

Danyal analyzed Damian’s features, confusion washing over him. It made sense, the Damian Danyal had known was a 10 years old assassin, not a 17 year old Robin. Danyal was smart, smarter than Damian had been. Damian waited for him to figure it out.

But the world did not wait. Red Hood, Nightwing, and Batman dropped in from various rooftops, as the jet hovered loudly above them. Spooked by the sudden appearances, Danyal quickly started backing away.

“Excretion ready. Preparing Medbay.” Red Robin reported.

“I was wondering when the news would reach you, Beloved.” Another familiar voice grabbed their attention. Damian looked to the sound to see Mother with at least 10 of her personal guards staring them down. Although Damian couldn’t see the others, he knew they had been surrounded.

“Talia.” Father hissed, a cold anger in his voice.

Damian's eyes shot back to Danyal who looked like he was trying to find a way to make an escape, exhaustion seeping through him. Deciding to take his chance, Damian approached him while Mother was occupied with Father.

“Who are you?” Danyal asked him, hesitantly, trying to keep the distance between him and Damian.

“I promised I would come back for you, didn’t I?” Damian said in lieu of an answer.

Danyal’s eyes widened in recognition but before he had the chance to respond, an arrow was launched landing between them. Looking at the source, it was Mother. At the signal attack, all the other guards swarmed in from their positions and started attacking. Damian, blocking a sword, aimed to slash his side, before another sword came for his shoulder.

Occupied with his two attackers, Damian didn’t notice Danyal trying to escape by climbing the side of the brick building. Fortunately, Mother still hadn’t noticed him yet thanks to their surroundings, and Danyal’s insistence to stay in the shadows. Danyal’s progression was decelerating, the weight of his still wet clothes and exhaustion slowing him down.

Damian tried to keep an eye on him so he could follow after, once he dealt with his attackers. Disarming both of them and knocking them unconscious, Damian was able to turn around just in time to notice Danyal on the brink of unconsciousness, and losing his grip on the stones he was using to climb. Damian moved quickly, just in time to catch Danyal as he fell and his eyes rolled back. With Danyal in his arms, Damian only registered the on coming projectile without enough time to dodge or block. Damian braced himself for the hit, using his body to shield Danyal as much as he could.

Only for a familiar black cape to flutter in front of him, blocking the attack before it hit either of them. “Go,” Father ordered, tipping his head towards the jet, “We’ll follow.”

“So basically, correct me if I’m wrong,” Steph started incredulously, “Damian had a twin brother that died, they dunked him in the pit waters but then he didn’t come back. So, they were like ‘welp, lets tell no one about this, ever’. Except the water ends up literally throwing him out when Damian goes back and does this huge water show grand entrance thing. And now we have another 10 year old Wayne child.” Steph summarized arms moving wildly. If there wasn’t a kid that looked a lot like Damian lying unconscious in the bed two feet away from her, and the body cam footage from both Damian and Jason, Steph would’ve thought they were pranking her. Though, she hadn’t entrily ruled that out yet either.

Tim nodded in conformation, leaning back causally on his chair.

“You were gone for 36 hours.” Cass added exasperatedly.

Damian still hadn’t said anything other than explain who exactly Danyal was. They were twins, apparently, and they had been forced into a battle to the death a few days before Damian had been brought to the manor. He hadn’t told them why, but Steph suspected it was for some stupid successor business. Some of the other’s had tried to get more information out of Damian, demanding answers for why he never said anything before, never told any of them, why there weren’t any files of Danyal in the League’s databases. But Damian hadn’t answered any of them, so they had been forced to give it a rest- for now. Looking back, Steph could see the signs that Damian was dealing with grief when he had first come to the manor, but no one had been looking for that, and it had gotten swept under ‘weird assassin cult child’ behavior.

It had been about an hour and a half since the jet had landed in the cave, and Steph, as a certified medical practitioner, had been called in for an emergency. She had thought it was strange that Oracle hadn’t specified who, and now Steph understood why.

Danyal didn’t seem injured, other than a lower than average body temperature and a slightly slower heart rate, which was likely due to the body temperature, he seemed in relatively normal health. That was if he hadn’t been a 10 year old who had been marinating in Lazarus Water for seven years. Most of the bats had experience with Lazarus Water, and it had never been pleasant. But they hadn’t been in the prime years of their physical and mental development, and at most had been in the pits for an hour.

Steph, Cass, Tim and Damian were in the medical room with Danyal. Jason had gone to his apartment, and said he would be back later, and to let him know if anything happened. Bruce had changed and gone straight up stairs, not taking the news of having a second kid who Talia had hidden from him and a second kid who had died very well. Dick had stayed for a while but he had an emergency work call and had to leave. Duke was still patrolling, since it was earlier in the day, but was being kept up to date on all news thanks to Oracle.

Danyal was due to wake up any moment, and none of them knew how to feel about it. Not liking the morbid atmosphere of the whole manor, Steph decided to change topics. “Did Cassie tell you about what Conner and Bart did last week?”

Tim turned to face her happy for the distraction, Cass humored her with an intrigued look. “What?”

“Okay so basically- it was so cringe-” Steph let herself laugh “They were at the mall right. The one near Mount Justice, y’know-”

“-yeah it’s the same one they go to all the time.” Tim interjected, rolling his eyes.

“Right, so-” The door opened, as Alfred walked in, cutting off her story but not unwelcome.

“You’ve all been in here for quite some time, so I brought you some snacks. Sandwiches, fresh cookies, and water, juice and milk to drink. All your favorites, do indulge.” The old butler explained, rolling the cart through the door.

“Thanks, Alfie.” Tim went to grab a glass of water, and a sandwich.

“And anything for our newest addition?” Alfred questioned.

“He’s not awake yet.” Damian said quietly, sipping at a glass of warm milk. Like a weirdo.

“Is that so?” Alfred said with a thoughtful drawl to his voice, as he walked closer to the kid. “Hm…” He stroked his chin animatedly, slowly bringing himself closer to examine the boy’s face, but still keeping a comfortable distance. Steph was about to question what he was doing, only to see the boy’s eyes shoot open, and stare back at Alfred like a deer caught in headlights. Alfred straightened, as Danyal seemed to realize that he had been discovered.

“What? How long was he faking being asleep?” Tim asked, baffled.

“56 minutes.” Cass answered, easily.

“Wait- you knew this whole time?” Steph asked betrayed, only for Cass to smile back cheekily.

Damian didn’t say anything as Danyal sat up in his bed slowly, examining every one in the room. Steph tried to make herself seem non threatening but stayed ready in case the kid lashed out, not knowing how he would react. If it was anything like how Damian had been during his early days, it would pay to be ready.

After a long moment of no one saying anything, Tim decided to prompt, “So, how’re you feeling, kid?”

Danyal didn’t respond right away, instead watching Tim, Steph and Cass from his spot on the bed. Steph was beginning to wonder if this was another case, like Cass, where the kid had never been taught how to speak. Danyal opened his mouth hesitantly, looking over at Steph hesitantly, then Damian before answering.

“Cringe.” There was a flat blunt honestness to his tone that added to the sudden comedy of the situation. Damian choked on his milk, and the room burst into laughter at the unexpected response. Danyal looked a little embarrassed at the reaction, but there was still a small smile on his face.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad afterall.

“Do you want some?” Damian asked, breaking a cookie in half and offering Danyal a piece.

The younger boy took it, curiously, “What is it?”

Damian took a bite, chewing it before responding, “A cookie.”

“Cookie.” Danyal repeated thoughtfully, before taking a little nibble of it. His eyes widened at the taste, “Woah.”

“There’s plenty more of those, Young Master Danyal, I’m glad to see you enjoy them.” Alfred smiled happily at the reaction.

“Really?” He asked hopefully. Steph tried to remember if Damian had been this cute when he had first come to the Manor. “Who are you?” Danyal asked again after a moment.

“I’m Alfred Pennyworth, you can call me Alfred. I'm the butler at Wayne Manor, your father’s home where we currently are.” Alfred took a pause before speaking again, “Now, I hope you all will excuse me as I go fetch Master Bruce, he’s been quite excited to meet you, Young Master Danyal.”

-------

guys this was just suppose to be an itty bitty little thing. WHY DID IT TAKE ME 3 WHOLE DAYS??? im sensing a pattern and i'm not liking it.

I was suppose to be studying for physics :/

#danny and damian #character death but its danny #please someone help these poor traumatized kids #the mother gothel references go hard #danny is going thru it #first he gets stabbed/killed by the one person who's ever cared about him #gets dunked in a bunch of nasty green water #wakes up to find people in weird costumes chasing him #tries to get away from them when his powers start kicking in and tripping him and not helping at all #and then his mom find him and hes kinda scared out of his mind #and then more weird costume furries are chasing after him #but apparently its aged up damian and his father???#he deserved that cookie #yes that was totally parallelism from when damian first offered him chocolate and they started becoming friends #ngl idrk how i feel abt the end #damian ate the cookie first to prove it wasnt posion also y he ate the chocolate first #but also he was eavesdropping on them for almost an hr so he kid a had a vibe check on them #his ghost powers let him pick up on languages faster which is why he said cringe lol #he was trying to assimilate and get them to like him so they wouldn't get mad at him #also kinda explains y damian was so aginst having brothers #becasue he had a rly twisted understanding of what that is #damian the one (1) time he tries to socialize: yah i had a twin once #rando: oh wow thats so cool what r they doing now #damian casually: oh he's dead #rando: oh- oh wow im so sorry #damian: yah anyways have i told u abt my brother damian #also damian: idk y pple think im wierd #i actually want danny to be the older twin #just for the unhindged conversation of a 10 yr old turning to a 17 yr old and being like im older than u #and dami responding completely seriously yah but i lived longer than u

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revasserium · 11 months

Text

midnight cravings

riddle rosehearts; 1,603 words; nsfw, pls dni if ur a minor; all characters depicted as 18+; fem!reader, tipsy!riddle, oral, fingerfucking, senpai!kink???... welp.

you find him with flushed cheeks and sticky fingers, his eyes honey-glazed as he looks up at you over the tray of liqueur-filled chocolates, his lips stained pink with laughter. he hiccups, tongue darting out to lick at his fingertips, his whole body swaying when you raise an eyebrow and blink.

“riddle?”

“o-oh — oops…”

“what on earth…”

he hiccups again, giggling as he stumbles his way towards you, nearly tripping over his very well-polished boots, leaning down towards you with a shy, sly kind of smile that makes your stomach twist like taffy inside you.

“hm… guess trey made them a little strong this year…” he muses, his eyes flickering from your lips up to your eyes and back down again.

“riddle… were those the whiskey chocolates that trey-senpai made for tomorrow’s holiday party?”

“mm… well, he did say i could try one… or two…”

you can’t help the smile stretching across your lips.

“or… seven?”

riddle purses his lips, his lashes fluttering as he lets out a soft sigh. you can smell the sweetness on his breath, the golden sting of whiskey, feel the closeness of his body to yours. you forget that he’s taller than you, but like this, he could cage you in easily, his eyes half-lidded, his smile knowing and lazy and distinctly cat-like.

“don’t make fun of me…” he says, his voice soft as he cocks his head.

“i — i’m not… i just…”

your breath catches as your eyes snag on the teasing edge of his smile, the way it lilts lopsided, the way he still tries to play at innocence even when the tension is palpable between you, thick as warmed butter.

“just… what? hm?”

you know you’re finished before your lips even meet, but when they do, you find yourself whimpering, the force of him startling. and sure, it’s different from how he usually is — sweet, attentive, perhaps a bit on the rigid side, but it isn’t like you haven’t seen him like this before, haven’t felt him like this before — on the occasions when he’s irked or tired or perhaps just a bite too excited. when he’s too happy or dizzy or drunk on life or laughter or you —

like this, he leaves you gasping.

“hm… i was just thinking…” he pulls back, casually swiping a thumb across your bottom lip, his eyes dark and hungry, tracking the wet trail his finger makes as it presses along the length of your mouth, dragging down your cheek till he can tilt your chin up towards him again.

“you never call me ‘senpai’… but you do with trey and cater… why’s that?” he asks, his voice just on the other side of nonchalance, his expression one of sharp, targeted curiosity, like he knows the answer but wants to hear you say it instead.

“i — i’m sorry, i’ll —”

“say it.”

you swallow, catch your lower lip in your teeth, eyes locking with his as his grin spreads cheshire-wide.

“s-senpai…”

his next breath is light, is one of laughter as he leans back down, “mm… good girl.”

you shiver as tingles rake up the length of your spine.

and then your thoughts skid through to pure incoherence as he melds his mouth to yours once more, pulling you to him, kissing you hard, kissing you hungry, kissing you like there’s an entire world somewhere beneath your tongue that he’d love nothing more than to be the cartographer for — you squeak as he hoists you up, always so much stronger than even you give him credit for, plopping you down on the biting cold of the metal kitchen table.

“y’know… i’d come down for a midnight snack originally…” he says, taking half a step back to look you over, taking in the muss of your hair, the ruffle of your clothes, your uniform collar loose and askew, your skin a tantalizing glimmer in the soft, dappled moonlight. and then, he drops to his knees and you nearly hiss in anticipation.

he trails his fingers along the bare skin of your thighs, pillowing his cheek on one of them.

“but i think i might just want to eat you instead.”

“r-riddle — !”

your eyes squeeze shut as he presses open your legs, your toes curling at the openness of it all, at the shock of embarrassment at being spread out like this, on the school’s kitchen table, no less — but riddle hums as he lets his hot breath wash over you, a thick groan rolling out of him as he tugs aside your panties and slicks a thumb through the wetness already collected along your folds.

“fuck,” he murmurs, and it punches through you, the way he says it, usually never one for such obscenities, the word slipping from him, more a prayer than a curse.

fuck, you agree, letting your head tip back as he leans in to lick a slow strip along your cunt, your fingers fisting in his hair, and on any other day, he might’ve balked at the sting, but now, tonight, he only revels in the way you pull him closer, your thighs shaking on either side of his head, the taste of you exquisite on his tongue.

“ri-riddle… please…” your voice trails off into a high-pitched whine as he wraps his mouth around your clit and sucks, leaving you a shaking pile atop the glistening metal table, still loaded to the one side with trey’s chocolate liqueurs. riddle grins, lifting his eyes to watch as you peer down at him, your cheeks dark with color, truly the sweetest, most intoxicating sight. the soft, warm, buzz of alcohol had loosened his limbs and inhibitions enough and he thinks that he likes you like this — pleading for him, shaking apart for him.

“ah… so pretty…” he muses, even as he leans up to press two fingers into you, fucking you slow, savoring the way you gasp and clench down around him, tight, and then tighter, your knees pressing together as if you could somehow keep him there. he grins.

“m-more… ah — ngh —”

your fingers scrabble for purchase you reach blindly down towards him, trying to do something, anything to get him to go faster, harder, perhaps to curl his fingers the way he knows you like. but he only catches your hands, holding your wrists still as he leans over you, his torso keeping your knees spread just so, his other hand still sunk knuckle-deep inside you.

“hehh… i don’t think you’re really in the position to make demands right now…” he runs a tight circle of your clit with his thumb and watches as your entire body arches off the table in pleasure.

“rid-dle — riddle — s-senpai — !”

his body shudders as he lets out a breathy laugh, his head dropping as he finally picks up the pace, fucking his fingers into you hard enough for you to keen before dropping back down to press his tongue back to your folds, sucking hard just to hear you scream.

“mm… look so good like this… so desperate for me, hm? what a pretty… little… pastry…” he punctuates his words with harsh thrusts of his fingers, curling them inside you till he finds the place he’s looking for, the soft, tender spot inside you that has you twitching around him, begging and nearly incoherent with pleasure.

“’m s-so c-close — close —”

he moans loud and lewd against you as he pulls his fingers from inside your cunt, replacing it with his tongue, gripping your thighs as he eats you out hard enough for you to come undone right over his mouth, your body writhing over the metal table, nearly knocking the trays of sweets from their place beside you.

“aah-ahh… we’ve made… a mess…” he says, sounding rather pleased with himself as he pulls back, licking his lips, dragging a thumb across his chin before popping into his mouth, his eyes still locked with yours. you shudder as the aftershocks of your orgasm rake through you, not entirely able to shake the way he’s still watching you, as if this has done nothing to sate his particular brand of hunger.

he gives your thigh a small pat as you take a breath and force your body to sit up, cheeks flushing as you tug your panties back up your legs, smoothing your palms over the material of your skirt as you hop off the table.

“did… did you sober up a bit?” you ask, your voice uncharacteristically quiet as riddle leads you from the school kitchens, hand in hand, his gait still much more relaxed than it would’ve been in the daytime.

he peers at you from over his shoulder.

“hm… not in the slightest,” he says, and you stare up at him as he smirks.

the hallways are quiet as the pair of you make your way towards the hallway of mirrors, your footsteps echoing against the vast, stone walls.

“so… what are you going to tell trey-senpai tomorrow? when he asks you about the chocolates?”

riddle pauses for a second before shrugging.

“the truth, i suppose.”

“huh?”

he turns to you with that tell-tale grin as the pair of you reach the heartslabyul mirror, and he tugs you behind him towards his room.

“that i had a midnight craving, and… that it just had to be sated, now didn’t it?”

#riddle rosehearts #twst #twisted wonderland #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #riddle rosehearts smut #riddle rosehearts x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst scenarios #riddle rosehearts scenarios #riddle rosehearts imagines #ya nasties #look;;;;; listen;;;;;;;;;;; i saw ONE frame of riddle tugging off his tie in the comic anthology and....#this is somehow what my brain decided to GENERATE based off of that image like;;;; he doesn't even #pull his tie in this fic but somehow. we ended up here. also.#drunk!riddle is gonna haunt me. god fucking damnit.#it's truly.... degenerate hrs all up in this haus for twst.#ur kidding urself if u dont think riddle could eat out like a mutherfuckin champ.#also ! this is my first time putting a banner on a fic! and will prob be the last time HAHAHAHHA #usually there isn't a specific frame that inspires a thing but today there was so i might as well right

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