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ohmy7hearts · 4 years

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tears and lashes

Summary: She cried but he held her so dearly.

Pairings: Damian Wayne x Wonder Girl! Reader

Warnings: Angst

A/N: this,,, is way overdue. This whole series is.

Based on this.

“What are you doing here?” She croaked, voice so foreign even to her own ears, clutching the door as if it was the ribbon tying her together - a facade of beauty and grace when beneath is nothing but a sham with a malfunctioning heart and a broken mind - and without it, she would fall apart with just the nudge in the right direction.

That nudge being the boy in front of her with the windswept hair and green eyes. Such a beauty. His mouth slightly agape and the brows slightly furrowing as if mocking her with how easily he could see past that facade and no matter how slight the defect was, he could see the difference. Such a mess.

Hands tightening, eyes steeling, voice hardening, “what are you doing here, Damian?”

Hands grasping hers, eyes searching hers, voice begging her, “please listen to me, beloved.”

She tried shaking his hand off but his grip was shackled to hers. Frowning, she glared at the contact, wishing she had Jon’s laser’s eyes so she could decapitate that hand; but she can’t hurt him even if she wanted to despite the emotions boiling over to hatred and envy and anger from her previous pathetic state.

His other arm wrapped around her waist, tugging her close, closer and so close to his chest she wouldn’t know where she started and where he ended. She didn’t know if it’s her stupid brain or if it’s his stupid heart that she could hear it beating so loud it resonated in her ears and suddenly the too-loud heart beating of her heart from her swelling emotions melted into a thudding that she somehow has familiarised herself with, the thudding her ears searched and hoped for to find a few months ago.

He raised her chin, eyes locking on hers then wiping the tears spilling over her waterline. Fingers brushing her skin like his paintbrush on canvas; a juxtaposition to how he fights and his firm voice - a sight meant for her and a sight she always sees. And she didn’t know whether to blame her brain or his heart when his eyes reflected hers.

She caught it before it fell. Thumbing under his eye, she watched him watch her, tears never stopping. Breath mingling, the warm air brushing her lips before panning over her cheek. He tilted. Nose touching her cheeks, his lashes brushing her glabella then her temple. Skin gliding against hers, fingers resting on her cheeks - barely there.

He’s whispering. She can’t quite grasp it. Words hanging in the air. Her brain locked on his touch.

Touched and stroked by his hardened fingers so softly like you were a marble statue; loved and cherished by Damian like you were a masterpiece he can’t quite believe. Oh, to be loved by the man you love; never have you felt such adoration.

#wonder robin basorexia #Damian Wayne #damian wayne imagines #damian wayne x reader #robin #robin x reader #robin imagine #wonder robin drabbles #rslwrites #rslcreates #dc imagine #dc x reader

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ohmy7hearts · 5 years

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pleads and foreheads

Summary: If you know of Gods and Goddesses and raised to have faith in them, you should pray to them, especially when your heart is on the line.

Pairings: Damian Wayne x Wonder Girl! Reader

Warnings: Angst

A/N: Returning to writing has me falling in love with this pairing all over again. I really want to finish the story I have in store for them before moving on with my other projects.

Based on this.

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“There’s been a slow activity on crimes lately,” she greeted, hands busying themselves with the bouquet of flowers she brought. Looking at the overfilled tables, she glanced down once more in contemplation. “I grew this. Mother thought it would be a - dare I say - good hobby.”

Her face scrunched up, tears pricking her eyes, as she finally gathered her courage to face him. Or whatever that was left of him.

The myriad of wires attached to his body made it difficult to see him; see his tanned skin which has faded to a pale complexion, see the sinewy tissues which were cultivated from years of rigorous training and dear Hera, she can hardly recognise his sharp features. Those features which reflect his straight-laced attitude towards the world and himself. The very same features which bring out the competitive fire in her, the storm of emotions brewing in her stomach and right now, the onslaught of daggers etched onto her heart.

Eyes burning and ears ringing, she dropped the bouquet. It fell and was crushed under feet. The stems breaking - breaking the silence of the room like a thunder, though it did not register in her mind as everything else beyond the boy in front of her falls apart - as she moved towards him with uncertainty. Shaking hands hovering his arm yet not willing to touch it. Fear has turned her blood ice cold; fear that he would crumble beneath her touch as she finally realised how fragile he actually is.

The boy who leaps from skyscrapers as if he has wings, the boy who dives headfirst into a battle because his first instinct is to always fight not run, the boy who can dissect a crime scene as easily as he can breathe, the boy who dons a mask every night not out of obligation to a God or society or even his morals but just because he wants to change the world in the way he knows how to.

There’s a lump in her throat and her voice is more croak than words, “You’re not a superhero.”

That very same boy grows up with superhuman beings, a weight on his shoulder to be something vile yet supposedly honorific, a legacy that was expected to be continued by him because he lives in such a cruel world and a more malevolent city. That very same boy was not given a choice. His childhood ripped away even before he knew what it meant and in exchange for it was swords and a righteous way of life. And that’s all he knew.

She inhaled deeply, lungs failing as she tried to get her words out, “You’re just a boy.”

Cupping his cheeks, she looked at him as her heart tear and break at the seams with every scar she sees. With tears streaming down her face and her shaky breath fanning the mask over his, she whispered, “A boy I fell in love with. A boy with a big heart and bigger ambition.”

It was more of lips - dry as it is but his skin wet with her tears and the air heavy with her breath and running nose - touching his forehead than an actual kiss. “I implore you, Lord Hades… Please… I beg of you… Don’t take him away. Don’t take my love away, please...”

#wonder robin basorexia #Damian Wayne #damian wayne imagines #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #robin #robin imagine #robin imagines #robin x reader #wonder robin drabbles #rslcreates #rslwrites #dc x reader #dc imagine

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ohmy7hearts · 6 years

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sparring and cheeks

Summary: Sparring is their usual thing but she decided to spice things up.

Pairings: Damian Wayne x Wonder Girl! Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: Clearly, I don’t understand the way of things and being an author in general hah. Here’s to all my DC lovers, esp the Wonder Robins supporters. And if you notice the new formatting, props to you!

Based on this.

Jab, jab, cross. Repeat. Damian kept himself low and concentration on the heavy bag despite it not being an actual live object. He continued punching the bag until the moment he felt someone staring at him. At the last punch, the heavy bag flew across the room and landed on the ground with a dull thud. Unwrapping the bandages on his hands, he glanced at the intruder, “TT, are you here just to stare?”

She tilted her head while a playful smile tugged at her lips, “I certainly don’t mind. It’s a nice view.”

Damian narrowed his eyes in warning which she retaliated with a giggle. At the sound, his heart felt like it was tickled while his mind was cleansed of anything but the memory of Kent’s farmhouse. The breeze caressed his cheeks and the smell of dew was fresh that he felt like he was tasting them instead of breathing them in. Even though he was used to dark Gotham, he would not mind the countryside with the sun warming his skin which contrasted the cooling air in the morning.

The giggle she let out broke the silence; but the way she did was like melody seeping into a song and Damian waited for what she would be saying next. He watched her exhaled into her palm while she watched with awe at the air swirling like smoke before disappearing. The awe on her face was colouring her skin a beautiful palette and the air in his lungs felt like it was sucked out. To be more precise, it was like the air around and in him was seduced into joining the misty art she was making. Another giggle and Damian could not help the blush from colouring his skin.

“So are you ready?” He blinked a couple of times to realise he was back in the training room instead of Kent’s farmhouse. She was geared with her sword so Damian replaced the bandages for his katana before taking a stance in front of her.

Leaping at each other after a few beats of silence, the sound of metals meeting and biting into the other filled the room. Damian stepped back and jumped sideways; his mind weaving together a plan before falling apart to transform to another whole plan with every movement made by her. Despite it being a fight, she fought with the utmost of grace that he started to second guess whether it was a dance instead.

His downfall, literally, answered his question because the numb pain spiking up his back was certainly not part of any choreography. Pointing her sword at his throat, she smirked, “You lost concentration and faltered.”

He grunted, pushing the sword away and accepting the hand she offered. When he has stood up, it felt like a petal was brushing his cheeks before the words of thank you echoed in his ears. Shell-shocked, he watched with brazen amazement as she walked out of the training room.

She kissed him?

#wonder robin basorexia #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne imagines #robin #robin x reader #robin imagine #robin imagines #wonder robin drabbles #rslcreates #rslwrites #dc x reader #dc imagine

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ohmy7hearts · 6 years

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nightmares and hands

Summary: Nightmares frequent Damian but all he really need is someone to be there for him to get his mind off things.

Pairings: Damian Wayne x Wonder Girl! Reader

Warnings: Slightly graphic nightmares

A/N: Oh my goodness gracious me, it took me so long to write this piece and I was supposed to actually finish the basorexia piece all in one shot but mehh. Anyways, sorry for the lack of updates and inactivity. Please feel free to request and feedback on this cause all my headcanons will be turned to drabbles similar to this. I will finish a piece from every part of wonder robin hc before continuing them so ya.

Based on this.

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Damian clenched his eyes shut in attempts at ridding the horrifying flashes of death. The deaths he brought upon innocents by walking down the path of an Al Ghul-Wayne and the deaths that still haunts him to this very day, be it because he landed the finishing blow or was too slow to save them. They come and go, taking the forms of nightmares and the shadows in the corner of rooms, merciless at ensuring that he never forgets his sins.

Throat constricting, heart racing, Damian found it arduous to even breathe as he sank deeper into his nightmares. Were they nightmares when they were so vivid? He could count the strands of hair on his Grandfather’s beard, feel the sun beating down on his skin and the ridges of his katana. The muffled wails of Arabic was there: faint and muddled like he was underwater but definitely there. But it was not clear blue waters he was seeing through but crimson red, like the blood that splattered and spilled when he sliced through his enemy while the iron left a stench in the air. The familiar smell of iron that now choked him and robbed him of air which left him thinking only about the cold biting his skin.

The water shoved him out like he was being pulled by the sun: as fast as light and warmth grazing his shoulders. But it was still dark when his eyes flew open and yet he could feel the dread draining from his body when the warmth on his shoulders traversed down his arms. It was like fire spreading through the forest mimicking the smoldering heat in a fireplace - dangerous yet inviting. Nonetheless, a sigh of contentment replaced his shaky breaths and his eyes fluttered close as he attempted to pin this to memory.

Hands grasped his trembling ones while her thumbs drew shapes into his palms. Damian watched in fervor as she traced the lines on his palms, as light as a feather, tickling his skin and shooting spikes of happiness up his arm before dissipating throughout his body.

One of her hands wrapped around his wrist, gently unlike the clasp she would have on her sword, which had butterflies swarming his stomach. But Damian Al Ghul-Wayne do not get butterflies in his stomach; he had taken down men triple his size and armies as many as there were in all the Roman legions combined. No, Damian got a zoo of animals rampaging in his stomach when it came to her. And her treating him like a fine China doll had the hordes of animals stampeding in tandem with his heart beat.

Her hands climbed up his neck and his jaw before caressing the skin on his cheeks. His breath hitched when the memory of her caressing his artwork the way she was doing now to him flew to the forefront of his brain and in a mind of their own, his hand held hers to stop her. Despite the darkness engulfing the two of them, he could still picture the slant of her eyebrows and the downturn at the corner of her lips. Turning his head so his lips were right above her knuckles, the sigh he released had the hand in his shuddering which had him smirking.

Planting his lips on her knuckles, hand caressing her palm, his mind was finally at ease and only thoughts of her filled the void.

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ohmy7hearts · 6 years

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ice cream and noses

Summary: She loves ice cream but him? Not so much. But maybe after this, he can learn to place it in his top few favourite food.

Pairings: Damian Wayne x Wonder Girl! Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: SOOO this drabble series has turned into a one page writing challenge and yea.

Based on this.

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“How is ice cream still not a favourite food of yours?” She wondered while nibbling on the spoon. Cheek planted on her fist, she watched Damian with rapt attention expecting some groundbreaking answer to shatter the halo she has placed around the milky beauty.

He grunted, “There are plenty of food out there which are much better. Ice cream will only rot your teeth and give you stomach aches.”

Her body straightened instinctively upon hearing the insult Damian had thrown; just as her hand grasped the ice cream protectively and pointed the spoon at him like she would poise her sword. “You did not just insult ice cream! I’ve tasted a plethora of delicacies but none of them has come close to having a chance when compared to ice cream!” She took a mouthful of the frozen food and shoved it in her mouth as if she was mocking Damian - though Damian had to inquire how exactly he would be insulted by that - and mumbled, “Besides, it was only that one time.”

“TT, that will be the first of many troubles to come.”

She pouted at that - to which Damian mentally high fived himself for winning a debate against her - before avoiding his eyes and observed the street outside. With the sky crying tears of snowflakes, the empty street has evolved into a place that has been taken right out from storybooks and with her presence, it was easy for Damian to vouch that it was. Unlike Gotham, she was a manifestation of the sun and the ocean, the stars and the woods and everything that bleeds the wonder of Themyscira - or what Damian thinks Themyscira is considering he, or any men in general, hasn’t been there.

“It’s cold out.” At that, Damian was reminded of when they shared his cape during patrol to try and brave the cold weather and with the exposing armour she wore, she almost ended up with a cold. Despite that, she would still watch the city with such wonder as if the beauty of Gotham was something to behold - which Damian thinks is downright ludicrous - and every second the city breathes is a miracle on its own axis; just like she was doing at that moment.

“And I wonder why are we digesting food that is equally as cold.”

She tore her glance from the window and blinked at him. The few beats of silence that followed just consisted of him finishing his frozen treat as she watches him. It was strikingly similar to when she would ponder about a case they were working on but unlike those times, the gaze was directed at him so Damian rose an eyebrow at her in question.

A smile plastered itself on her face when she leaned forward over the table and gestured for him to do the same. So he did humor her because there were so many quirks to her that he did not understand yet will comply with because it’s her. And yet he was not expecting the brushing of her nose against his.

“And I think that you will just agree to whatever my choice is so thank you.” And it wasn’t a lie.

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