#League of Assassins!Damian Wayne x Reader

[kazuko-stuff]

Unexpected Conversations

Reader is Bruce Wayne’s daughter

Relationship: mentioned! Established Wayne! Reader x Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne x daughter reader, Damian Wayne x sister reader, Wayne reader talking with Ra Al Ghul

Summary: based on my written prompt on which Wayne reader gets kidnap by League of Assassins but gets a conversation of life with Ra Al Ghul

You didn’t know how you got into this situation. You and Dick were just having a nice night together in your shared apartment only to get attacked by minions of the League of Assassins. Dick managed to get rid of them but only to kidnap you while he fought back. Now you are being taken by Talia, your younger half brother’s biological mother. You stay quiet for the whole time, knowing Talia isn’t someone you should mess with. At least they weren't tied up but you were still intimidated by her presence. Despite being Batman’s daughter, your father was quite an overprotective father and you could only help out at the cave, since he wanted you to have a normal childhood and you knew you weren’t the vigilante type.

“You're quite the quiet type” Talia’s strong voice suddenly spoke up as you were in your thoughts.

“Umm, I… well you did kidnap me all of the sudden and I know you kidnapped me to lure my father and Damian, isn’t that right” you answered the woman in front of you, not knowing what to say.

“ I guess the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree” she muttered to herself quietly but you pick it up anyway.

“Are you saying that you initially thought I don’t have anything related to my father except my hair color” you said out loud to her.

“Well your stubborn and smart, I have to admit that”

You then wondered if Talia just complimented you in her own way, seeing the similarities with Damian and his mother, as you remember all the times you bonded with him when he was adjusting his time at the manor as well as getting use to doing normal activities kids in his age usually do, including interrupting date nights with Dick. Speaking of Dick, you hope he would survive your father’s wrath and Damian as well.

—————————————————————————————

(Dick’s POV)

“Tell me that again” ordered the Bat as he glared at his former protege while Damian was sharpening his katana while Alfred almost fainted at the shock of the lady being kidnapped. Nightwing, in all things that terrifies himself when it comes to Bruce Wayne or the Batman, it always has to do with him being in a relationship with his daughter. When the first time he told him how he found out, he purposely sent him to secret missions as a test before that meeting to see if he is worthy of protecting his daughter. He remembers how he purposely intimidated her ex-boyfriend in high school and the time when he had to have the “talk”.

However, this is worse. He not only failed to protect his girlfriend but ended up getting kidnapped by one of Batman’s greatest foes, Ra Al Ghul. He knows it’s Bruce getting understandably scared for his daughter’s safety but he also knows that he will receive his wrath for letting her get in danger.

“Grayson” as Damian stands up after finding sharpening his katana. “I expect you are going to face punishment for failing to protect my sister” he glares at him. “ When we have our daily training next time, I won’t hold back”.

Dick knew this was going to happen. Ever since the little bat came to live at the manor, he grew attached to you since she was the only one who welcomed him with open arms despite the circumstances. However overtime, he decided to purposely get in between in his intimate moments with her, much to his chagrin. You often scold him like a child who stole cookies from the jar, whenever he tries to reprimand Damian for spoiling his dates with you.

“Get ready” as Batman suddenly spoke up as Nightwing and Robin looked at him. “ I guess mother is nice enough to let us know where sister is located at” as he looks at the message being sent to them. “Well it’s the knight’s job to save the princess from the villain” as nightwing looked at the coordinates.

“Tt, you as the knight in shining armor,like in those video games and stories in children’s books. Please, you must be joking, maybe the wandering traveler if anything” he bluntly puts in after seeing Dick’s expression of being a knight of saving his princess.

“Hey, it’s not stupid and besides, when we were kids we often played princess, where I was the knight in shining armor, y/n as the princess that needs to be saved from the monster, with Bruce being the dragon.” He snaps at the little bird as Damian was shocked that his own father was interested in this type of activity.

“Well let’s just get going. Who knows what your grandfather and mother are doing to her. She must be scared of being alone” as Dick frets over the failure of not protecting the woman he loves. “Don’t worry, I am sure that Miss y/n would make it out alright, she is stubborn as her father, so I know her strength will help her persevere” as Alfred gets the bat plane ready.

“ I am willing to fight against my mother if she does anything to my sister” as Damian enters the bat plane.

—————————————————————————————

(Reader POV)

As you got to where Talia wants you, you were surprised that instead of a prison, it was a nice room. Knowing you were taken by the League of Assassins, your best bet was that you were taken to a prison, knowing what they were capable of. But why did you get a guest room if anything?

“ I wasn’t expecting this type of hospitality” as you break the silence after seeing the place.

“ Well knowing the possibility of Gotham's princess being kidnapped may be public, the least I could do is not make it not too extreme. Also you aren’t much of a threat, so there’s that” as Talia responds to you.

“Yeah that type of news is not appealing, but you are aware that my father, Damian and Nightwing are coming, right?

“Yes I’m aware, I even sent them the message of your location here” as Talia looks at you.

“You could have even tie me up or sent me to the dungeons just like the other people you have targeted as well as giving them a threat but you didn’t” as you wondered out loud at Talia

“ Well it’s true we wanted to draw Batman and Damian out but Ra Al Ghul did want to talk to you specifically since he wanted to know the other child of your father” as Talia sits in the chair.

“ I am afraid I don’t have much to offer. Other than being the child of the man you called as your “beloved”. I don’t have any martial art skills nor am not trained as a vigilante. If anything I am just the daughter of Bruce Wayne and Former Lady of the house, nothing more, nothing less.” You admit to Talia at wondering what Ra Al Ghul wanted with you.

“I think that is where you are wrong. You managed to question me and my objectives. You are a strong willed person. You accepted my son, despite the circumstances.” As she looks at you “For that, I must thank you” as she gives a small smile.

You look at her gently, knowing that deep down, she truly loves and cares for her son. “ He still cares for you, Miss Talia, even if he has to fight against you” as you offer a smile.

The woman didn’t say anything else as she turned to walk out but unbeknownst to you, a smile graced her face, when she heard those words.

—————————————————————————————

You then waited, getting ready for whatever Ra Al Ghul wanted to talk to you about, as well as waiting for your father, brother and Nightwing to get here.

Then Ra Al Ghul appears in the room you are in. You then stand up straight sitting getting ready for what questions he will ask. He then sits on the chair across from you. You gulped to yourself internally, fearing what could happen but you know it’s better to stay silent since you don't know what plans he has in store.

“ So you're the young Miss y/n Wayne ?” as Ra Al Ghul spoke up. “Yes I am, y/n Wayne ''you answered his question. “ You must Ra’s Al Ghul, also known as the head of the League of Assassins and the Head of the Demon, am I right.”

“Quite a brazen young lady yourself” Ra Al Ghul chuckles as he is amused that you managed to answer his question without hesitation and are aware who you are speaking too without fear showing.

“You must know why you are here” getting back on topic as Ra Al Ghul prepares some tea.

“From what I heard from your daughter, is that you just want to talk to me since you are aware that I am my father’s blood daughter. Which I question, why do you seek me, other than being Batman’s daughter, since I don’t have any skill or power that you probably want” you asked as you see him prepare a cup of tea for you.

“I just simply want to get to know you, the world of Bruce Wayne lives, when Batman isn’t present” as he prepares himself a cup of tea.

“ Well as you know, he is the CEO of Wayne Enterprise in the daytime…” you start off tentatively, not knowing where to start off.

“ I am aware of that, my dear. I mean he does other than mundane business” Ra Al Ghul cuts off.

“ If anything, he's my dad. He does normal things that fathers do with their children. Make sure they live a happy life full of love. Sure there are some times I don’t agree with him as Batman, but as always, I told him, even before going to work, to be safe and take good care of himself.” You answered instantly because you know your dad is a good man and his desire to protect Gotham comes from wanting a bright future for the people who lived in Gotham. Even when you had a bit of a sheltered life, you knew the world has its dangers simply due to the people in it. You understand you can only help your father, brother and Dick at the cave for patrol but at least you are helping them in your own way. While it was because your father is just being overprotective, you knew that that type of lifestyle isn’t meant for you. The only thing that matters to you is your family’s coming home alive and the people they protect.

“What is it like for him as your father?” Ra Al Ghul inquired

“ He does normal things like any father does with their children. Spend time with their children, doing tea parties, reading bedtime stories and tuck you in bed, play princess with him as the dragon while the knight fights him” you mentioned a few things you and your dad did, as you remembered a time when you did his makeup for your princess tea party at age five.

“But my grandson didn’t do this father's children activities, why is that” he questions again after hearing the things you did with your father when you’re young.

“ Well for starters, he was raised in an environment where he couldn’t do those activities. You and Ms.Talia raised him to be the heir of the league of assassins. Instead of him playing, he spent most of the time with his intense training. With that type of environment, he didn’t know how to communicate without force nor interact with other kids in his age group when he was new to the manor. When he was forced to live at the manor, he was upset because he was away from a place he only knew as home. My father had to have a chance to know him and granted, it’s only Batman who is with him most of the time not Bruce Wayne, or that’s what Damian might have thought for the first few months. While I can say, Talia does love and care for Damian, she didn’t give him a room to be vulnerable with his feelings. With the initial hostility between him and my father along with Nightwing, I only saw him as a boy who needed acceptance and to show him what it is like to have what you called a mundane life. That’s why I always plan family time with my father and Damian, so they could have a sense of normalcy of a family.” You explained as you wondered what is wrong with having a regular life.

“ Aren’t Bruce Wayne and Batman the same person, what do you mean him being Batman to my grandson but not Bruce Wayne ” he wonders out loud to you

“ Even if he isn’t we’re his suit, his Batman attitude still comes up when Damian is going against his orders. As Batman, well you already know his temperament so I won’t explain that part. He scolds Damian, because he isn’t doing the rules of the Bat and Damian feels attacked because his feelings are hurt. I know Damian is doing the right thing but in ways my father won’t agree with. After all, my father isn’t good when it comes to communication, so that’s what causes the initial issues” You offer an explanation to the man in front of you, tactfully while looking at the tea cup on the table. You remember when Dick first came to the mansion something similar happened. He ran away from the manor to find Tony Zucco or when he and your father had a huge argument due to a patrol incident that led him to be more independent as a vigilante.

“ But I have one question” as you look at him directly. “Go on”

“ If you are interested in my father and daughter bond, since you seem to wonder why Bruce Wayne or Batman would do this, shouldn’t you be aware of this already? You have a daughter, didn’t you at least spend time with her ?” You questioned as you noticed that Talia’s parenting must be due to how her father raised her as part of the League of Assassins.

You notice he didn’t answer your question. “ I’ll take your silence as a no. Yes, you did cherish her but you didn’t bond with her as much. For all the long life you always had pride in, you didn’t use it to spend time with your loved ones. I know your goal is to build your version of a perfect world, but it only would create more damage. The perfect world doesn’t exist, since we’re only human. Good intentions could also cause huge problems as well. This may be an imperfect world but I know there is still beauty in this world.” As you answered your own question, knowing his goals of his utopia was with good intentions but seeing the consequences was the result of his worldview getting jaded overtime as well as the Lazarus pit side effects.

“But what about the corruption in the world? Due to that, the world has been tainted. Gotham is known for the crime and the corruption in it. How do you still see the world as beautiful” He challenged you.

“I have already acknowledged the world may have its ugly sides but I have people who taught me to never give up and they have always guided me and in turn show me all the beauty of the world. We all have ugly sides we want to hide but it’s better to accept it in order to be a better person. To improve the world, start with yourself, only then changes will happen. It may be small but it’s something” You answered his question.

You suddenly heard swords clattering. You knew your father, Damian and Dick came to get you out of here. “ You always criticized humanity for being a plague for their corruption but you also did the same things for the sake of power and control. What makes you any different from them ?”

Batman, Robin and Nightwing to the room you were in.

“Let her go” demanded Batman as he got ready to throw one of his batarangs. Robin with his katana and Nightiwng with his escrima sticks as they get into a fighting stance.

“ Fine I’ll let her go, after all she gave me a good conversation I hadn’t had for years” he admits as he stands up while you look at the whole situation, thinking a fight would happen.

“ You're letting us go that easy, what did you do to my daughter?” Batman growls at the DemonHead.

“To be honest I just simply chat with her. Quite a smart woman I say so myself” he admits as you go stand up to reunite with your family.

“I let you go off easily since this young lady here isn’t much of a threat” As Ra Al Ghul simply walks into the corridor.

“Sister, what did he do to you?” Damian asks in concern for you.

“To be honest, I don't know. All we did was just talk. He gave me tea although I didn’t drink it.” You admit since you just had a long talk with one of your dad’s greatest foes and managed to be alive as well.

“This isn’t the rescue I was imagining in my head” Nightwing admits while shaking his head.

“It’s alright, I am okay, mentally well and you guys are here. That's all that matters” you said as you pecked Nightwing's lips.

As you return home with your family in the Batplane, you relay the events that happen with your talk with Ra Al Ghul. He is just a human just like you who happens to have powers from the Lazarus Pit. He has his ideology and philosophy based on his experience but it is also flawed simply because just like everyone, he is human. However, some part of you hopes he could realize there is more to life than achieving one’s goal, something you have to remind your father now and then, because life is fleeting. Not only for the future but to be in the moment with your loved ones.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #bruce wayne x reader #batman #nightwing x reader #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #batsis x batfam #damain wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian al ghul #ra al ghul #talia al ghul #good mom talia #justice league #league of assassins #bruce wayne #dca fandom

[froggyfics]

The Deadliest Poisons Are The Sweetest Masterlist

Marriage is unlike anything you ever thought it would be.

Pairing: LOA!medieval!Damian Wayne x fem!reader

Theme: Fluff, Angst, Smut

Warning: I will indicate which chapters contain smut (🍉).

1 - The prince is looking for a new bride.

2 - You come face-to-face with your future.

3 - You remember the little boy and his rabbit.

4 - You meet someone new.

5 - Your wedding day arrives.

6 - Conflict arises within the Al Ghul household. 🍉

#dc comics #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x fem!reader #damian wayne x y/n #league of assassins #loa!damian wayne #damian wayne #medieval!Damian Wayne #damian wayne smut

[your-regular-toast-enjoyer]

Damian Wayne x League of assassins reader

Damian Wayne x reader or Damian Wayne/reader

Word count: 3468 words

TW: GN reader, Damian might be a TW himself, angst, mentions of kidnapping, nothing super bad really, kinda fluffy at the end.

You and him probably met as kids. I imagine that you might have been kidnapped by the league as a part of a mission to indoctrinate randomly selected children from around the world into the League of Assassins. It might have been a mission orchestrated by Ra’s to get a wider selection of soldiers under him. He would like to ideally always have the perfect person at hand for any type of mission. That means at least one soldier from every single country in the world… there are only 195 after all, less than a fraction of his total army of assassins, so it was an easy goal to complete.

I can imagine that you must have stood out to either Ra’s or Talia. Perhaps you were much stronger than the other kids? Perhaps you were smarter? Perhaps you were more dedicated to Ra’s cause than the rest? The reason honestly doesn’t matter. What matters is that you were better in some significant regard and, as such, gained the role of Talia’s protégé… Right alongside Damian.

As Talia’s trainee, you will be pushed to your limit. There will be times when you’ll seriously doubt whether or not you’ll survive whatever mission she has set out for you. Being scared for your life will become the norm and you’ll under no circumstances show your fear. As the years go on, Talia will be more caring towards you in her own twisted way. She’ll remember your birthday and give you her own homemade cream-filled Harissa or a small plate of Atayek as a gift, but she will never hug you or be unduly doting on you. You will doubt her care towards you every day, but when you see how she treats the other assassins, (especially the other children who you were kidnapped alongside), you’ll realise that she’s exceptionally gentle towards you, in comparison. Still, it doesn’t mean that she’ll show you any mercy in training, which, in a way, could also be considered a show of affection, because if you ever slip up, even the slightest bit, there’s a good chance that you won’t survive it.

This is the environment in which you grow up. It’s harsh and you often consider if death is a better alternative. You might have given in if it wasn’t for the boy who trained right alongside you… Damian. 

At first, Damian will remain sceptical of you. You were just thrown in alongside him during training one day and now you’re both training under his mother… Something seems off about the whole situation in Damian’s mind.

Damian might actually be jealous of you in the beginning. Who are you?! And why are you taking his mother’s attention away from him? Why did she just pet you on the head and not him?! That’s so unfair! She’s his mother! Not yours!

Damian might actually try to kill you in your sleep once or twice, which you manage to escape… He isn’t the first who’s jealous of your role. The other kidnapped kids whisper your name along the words “Traitor” and “Boot licker”. 

After a while, Damian’s jealousy dims. In its place, a sense of camaraderie slowly crawls in and inhabits. By your second year as Talia’s pupil, Damian will start to acknowledge you as more than just his training partner… You’re his first friend. The word is foreign to him. Friends aren’t a thing in the league of assassins… at least not openly, but it’s hard to describe you as anything except for his friend.

You’re probably the person he cares the most about, right after his mother. He’ll let you sleep in his huge silk-covered bed, right next to him. That way you can for once have a nice sleep without worrying about one of your fellow kidnap victims coming for your throat at night. Besides that, (whether or not you like the feeling of silk), you can’t deny that his large and soft bed is much more comfortable than the standard issue linen cot you’ve been provided with. Damian's bed is also residing within a large room that the two of you have all to yourself, not a piece of fabric hung alongside hundreds of others in a room smaller than that of the Al Ghul heir.

Damian likes having you next to him at night as well. Not only does he feel like he can better protect you, but it also helps with the nightmares that he’s been having since he was five. It helps to have someone that he trusts next to him.

As you grow even closer, you might seek each other out to deal with your dreadfully touch-starved selves. You might end up having a tradition of hugging each other for at least ten minutes every day before you’re called down for your morning meal.

Talia will certainly be aware of you and Damian’s growing relationship, but she decides to allow it. As stated before, she does care about both of you, and she can’t bring herself to separate you two. She’ll even keep the growing friendship a secret from her father. Ra’s wouldn’t approve of his grandson fraternising with a common assassin, especially one that wasn’t born in 'Eth Alth'eban.

Damian and you will make promises to never leave the other’s side. You will be inseparable and a deadly duo. Even though you weren’t even ten yet, you fought as if you were a single organism and were pretty much unstoppable against anyone who came up against you. Ra’s was impressed by your combined skills and briefly considered making you Damian’s future right hand. 

I can see Damian and you doing something stupid like attempting to form a blood oath by cutting up each of your palms so that a long thin line of blood peeps out, and then immediately press your hands tightly together. Damian swears that he’ll keep you by his side forever and you swear that you’d rather die than have your loyalty to him waver.

When Damian turns ten, the league is attacked, and Ra’s is either killed or mortally wounded, incapable of continuing to lead. Damian is forced to go to Gotham and reside with his father. He despises being removed from you, but he has no choice. It’s a decision made by his mother and he both respects and fears her too much to go against her direct orders. 

…Does anyone remember that uncomfortable boat scene from Son of Batman… Yeah, the one where Talia is flirting with Bruce while Damian is hiding behind a curtain less than five steps away… I can imagine that you’re standing next to the boy and you’re both sending each other disgusted looks.

When Talia reveals that Damian is Bruce’s son. Bruce might ask if he should take you as well. You’re around Damian’s age and he knows how the league treats children, he trained under the same trainer utilised by Ra’s Al Ghul, and he has surveillanced 'Eth Alth'eban multiple times. Talia refuses to give up her most trusted student though. She’s only giving Damian to Bruce to protect him. She needs you to be her right hand while she rebuilds the league. She only fully trusts you, no one else will do, despite you still being a child. 

Aiding in the process of reconstructing an organisation as large as the League is a lot of responsibility to be put on a child, but it ultimately helps you forget your sorrows of being away from the person you cared about the very most. Talia will work you hard, with no more than five minutes of downtime per day, for years. However, you get much closer to her, and she almost treats you like she used to treat Damian. (I can imagine that it’s her coping mechanism. It’s hard for her to be away from her son, so, she treats you like a kind of substitute child in his stead). Slowly, as you grow older, you’ll start to rise within the ranks of the newly rebuilt and much improved, (skill- and security-wise), League of Assassins. When you finally turn eighteen, you’ll have reached the rank of high general and the right hand of Talia, (who serves as the de facto leader until Damian returns).  

Damian, on the other hand, will sulk for weeks after being separated from you. If Bruce or anyone else mentions you, (by name or physical description), Damian will be at their throat. They don’t know you! They don’t know how you were the only friend he had! Everything has just been ripped from him! His mother, his grandfather, his home and, most importantly, his closest companion, you! His father could never begin to understand. This goes beyond just losing those you care about. It’s the uncertainty of whether he’ll ever see any of you again that tears him apart on the inside. He feels so alone in this foreign, and strange, new environment, where everyone seems to have forgotten the title and power he was born with. His entire world has crumbled in less than a week, and all he wants is for you to come so that you can give him one of those long hugs the two of you used to share in the mornings.

As Damian grows up, he won’t forget you like you were partially forced to do with him. However, he will attempt to distract himself from his yearning towards a nostalgia fuelled vision of his young childhood, with you being the main component. He’ll dive head first into his position as Robin, his friends at the Teen Titans, American high school life and so on. He’ll oftentimes think of what became of you, wonder whether or not, and deep down pray, you’re still alive. At the league, you never know which day might be your last, after all.

I imagine that Damian gets into a huge fight with his father, as he has countless times. However, this time it’s different. Damian killed again. Whether it was an accident or not doesn’t matter. We all know Batman’s golden rule of “No Killing”, and perhaps it was a high-profile rogue whose life Damian snuffed out… like the Joker? Scarecrow? Or maybe even Poison Ivy? Someone whose death would spread over the news like wildfire.

Whoever it was… It was dire enough for Bruce to remove Damian’s title as Robin, and suddenly the green-eyed boy’s world is crashing down again. He’s lost everything again. The image of your face, or at least what he imagines your face to look like now, pops into his head, and as a retaliation against his father’s iron rule, Damian flees back to the League. 

Talia is immediately made aware of this. She probably has an assassin trailing Damian at all times, just to make sure that he’s safe. When the mother hears of her son’s intentions of returning home, she’s overjoyed, even though she doesn’t show it outwardly. She sends for transport measures to get her son back to her in relative comfort, no son of hers will hitchhike across the globe. 

You’d probably be the first person Talia informs about Damian’s return. You can’t even remember his face, let alone have any idea of how he looks now, but you nonetheless share your mentor’s silent excitement. You still have that scar across your palm from that stupid blood oath you made as a kid. A permanent reminder of your loyalty to the Al Ghuls.

When Damian returns, you’re the one who greets him first. He’s been flown to the closest regular city near 'Eth Alth'eban, and you’ve been sent to guide him back to his old home, (in case he had forgotten the hours-long trip). 

When Damian sees you again, he’s baffled. You grew up to be so beautiful and enchanting. Your loyalty truly never wavered, he thinks. Still there to greet him after all those years.

Damian might unintentionally blush at the sight of you, which is very unlike him. But it’s so surreal to see you again, and he just wants to embrace you for days to make up for the lost time. His natural self-restraint stops him from ever pursuing such unrefined dreams, but that doesn’t change how his arms long to just wrap around your shoulders and see if you still smell like the strong incense they used to burn around the barracks within 'Eth Alth'eban.

But you seem colder than he remembers you. You’ve both grown to be different. You’re now much quieter and more reserved than when you were a child. You’re not rude in any way, just more distant... It scares him a little, did he lose you too? However, as he talks with you on the way back to the sacred city, you slowly start throwing out the regular sarcastic jabs/funny one-liners/whatever, that he remembers you for. It makes him hopeful that the two of you can return to what you had when you were ten. Wishful thinking? Definitely. But Damian has always been an ambitious man.

Once Damian is back with the league, he takes over the position of leader. You remain one of the highest-ranked generals, and you’re the one that Damian sees as his “get out of jail free” card. You work exceptionally well under any circumstances, a result of Talia’s thorough tutoring, no doubt, and he employs you in all the missions that no one else can complete. Damian is in awe of your skills, and he slowly develops what might be seen as a relatively passionate crush.

No one would ever know of his feelings if they didn’t understand him completely as his mother does. Talia spots the light blush on his nose and cheeks as you’re trying to explain some geographical advantage you might have over your enemies. She also notices how Damian will give you fewer dangerous missions to complete, or how he moved from his old childhood room to one that’s closer to yours. Yeah, Talia notices it all, and I believe this might be the only scenario where she approves of you fully. She tells Damian as much. He almost tries to deny the butterflies in his stomach but finds himself unable to let the words, “I harbour no such feelings for them”, leave his mouth.

Damian still has nightmares. They actually got much worse when he left 'Eth Alth'eban and started to live in Gotham. One night, he has a particularly gruesome one. Visions of his favourite brother, Grayson, dying. Of his grandfather’s death and his mother and you mourning so deeply it hurts to look at. He wakes up with a deafening deep and brass shout.

You’re quickly by his side, having recognised his voice as it rang out in the shared hall leading to both of your bedrooms. “You were yelling in your sleep, What’s wrong?” You inquire, concerned. He tries to brush it off, but you don’t budge. So, he explains his nightmare to you, apologising for appearing so pathetic. You don’t think he does and reassure him that he’s doing nothing wrong.

Maybe, in a fit of nostalgic yearning, Damian asks you if you want to stay for the night, like when you were little kids. And even though your current bed is almost as comfortable as his, (no longer are you chewed off with a flea-infested linen cot), you reluctantly accept. If you two were caught sharing a bed, it’d be scandalous. However, Damian is no longer just the grandson of the Demon’s Head. He is the Demon's Head. What he says, goes. And currently, he is saying that you can sleep next to him like in the good old days.

Neither of you has slept as peacefully as you do that night. You wake up before Damian, tangled in his arms and legs, and you’re rendered frozen. Damian’s green silk robes hang loose and you almost feel like you’re doing something wildly illegal by having him hold you so close to his chest.

When Damian wakes up not too long after, (no one is able to sleep late at the league), he doesn’t instantly let go of you as you expected he would. No. Damian starts to gently untangle the knots in your hair, (if you have any), and then lets his large calloused hand wipe over your cheek. You can still feel the scar on his palm from your old blood oath. It’s oddly comforting. 

You both lay down as long as you’re able to and then you must go back to your own room, undetected, to change and get ready.

The day goes by and nightfall arrives once more, and as you’re about to go to sleep in your own bed, you hear a knock on your door. It’s Damian. You instantly attempt to bow to show respect, but he stops you. “Come join me in bed.” It’s not necessarily a question, nor is it a direct command. It’s as if he already knew that you wouldn’t refuse and he was simply reminding you to come sleep next to him, as you’re supposed to.

This becomes a rather common tradition. The two of you sleeping next to each other. You mask it as you needing to better protect him from possible attacks at night, even though he’s a much lighter sleeper than you. It becomes common knowledge around the barracks that you two share a bed, but none mention a word, too busy with their own training.

Soon, Damian may spot that you like to spend whatever free time you have in the library, or that you look longingly after the stray cats sometimes found around 'Eth Alth'eban. In this case, he’ll gift you a large set of books/a little kitten which he has already named after himself, (you’ve got to remember who gave it to you). Whatever it is that he has noticed caught your eye, he’ll gift it to you.

Now, the Al Ghuls are quite traditional folk. So, Damian will court in the traditional way: 

He might gift you a bouquet of flowers native to the surrounding flora in and around  'Eth Alth'eban.

He’d definitely invite you to sit model for him as he paints your portrait, which will portray you in such a remarkable way that you can’t help but be at least a little flattered.

He might even get his fingers on an old gramophone and a vinyl album of an old song like “Put your head on my shoulder” or “Can’t take my eyes off of you”. Then, he gently guides you in a slow dance. It’s fine if you’re bad at dancing, as long as you keep close to him, he’ll make sure that you won’t step on his feet too much. He will make his feelings so clear to you that even if you’re the most oblivious person in the world, you won’t be in doubt that he adores you. While slow dancing he might lean in very close, your lips barely grazing each other as he sings along to the song playing in the background, his eyes focused on yours. When the song is finally about to end and you haven't pulled away, he’ll finally connect your lips.

(for Phone users) connect your lips

Damian is an intense guy. He is 100% or 0%, borderline obsessive love or none at all. The kiss will be confirmation of the two of you “dating”, I suppose. Al Ghuls don’t really do dating, though… So you will quickly have Damian on one knee, asking for your hand… even though he sounded like he was commanding you to elope immediately. “Marry me, y/n. Soon. I’ll give you all I have and own, if only you’ll give me your heart”.

He will marry you in all the ways that make sense. One wedding won’t be enough for him. Four weddings? Five weddings? Maybe more? Damian is on board. His brothers will all be invited, even Tim, as well as all of his previous friends, and yours, (if you’ve made any during the rebuilding of the League of Assassins). Bruce won't be welcome though, no matter how much his mother argues for his case.

If you prefer for your wedding to be small… I’m sorry, but there are certain League-traditions which Damian refuses to not obey. (He’s not particularly superstitious. However, the idea of the old wedding tales holding any validity scares him off not keeping with traditions).

Your married life will change very little in terms of his passion and your day-to-day conduct. If you’re willing and able to have children, Damian would adore them… But also be jealous of the amount of attention you give them.

If you’re either not willing or able to conceive children, Damian won’t force you. Actually… Damian might prefer to be child-free since he doesn’t want to share your love with anyone else… He’ll accept you caring for his mother deeply though, if that’s even the case, but that's about it.

Whether or not Damian makes up with his father doesn’t matter. He’ll forever stay with the League and you… After all, he promised you he’d keep you by his side forever.

In conclusion? LoA general reader and Damian make for a strangely fitting pair. Also, one of the few scenarios where Talia will actually support the relationship, Bruce though? Probably not. He’ll likely think that you’ve turned his youngest son evil, but he won’t attempt to split the two of you. Not that Damian would let him.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne #dc x reader #batboys x reader #league of assassins #damian al ghul

[glittering-moonlillie]

Tightrope (Damian Wayne x LOA! Reader)

Warnings: Heavy mentions of abuse, a few curse words. I made this more hurt comfort rather than angst, I'm sorry :<

Summary: Ever since the both of you were younger, you taught Damian the importance of hope and - even if it took years - he was more than happy to help you believe in it again. 

Word Count: 4085

Hope; it was the essence that life was built upon, the attribute that humans cling to in times of despair and grief. It was the shining light at the end of the dark tunnel, the soldier who - with gritted teeth - flipped off the dictator of life and continued to fight, bloodied, bruised and all. 

All you ever did was hope: hoped for a brighter future, hoped for control, hoped to explore and create rather than neglect and diminish. Whether it was in the middle of training, while you were sleeping, or studying, hope was the hidden deity you worshiped with every fiber of your little body. 

As you grew older, it was apparent that you were not born in the correct body. Your mother was a top assassin in an organization called The League of Assassins. She was taught to be a ruthless killer in order to serve the League’s higher purpose - to achieve balance in the world and create environmental harmony through slaughtering most of humanity. Instead of crafting, she helped to steal the lives of thousands, ripping them away from the world with precision. 

It was a responsibility of your mothers to be “the fang that protected the head,” which now meant it was your responsibility as well. From an early age, you were shaped to be a weapon. Your mother’s hands carefully molded your clay body, her expert hands knowing what ridges to smooth and what areas to sharpen. 

But the clay was too stubborn, too hard for her to mold perfectly, and resulted in a dull clump that was useless. One could imagine the disappointment of your mother, who served to be Talia’s right hand woman. When you were born, everyone expected you to have the same instinctual skill as your mother - the ability to contort into the shadows like a lethal chameleon with the ease of a slithering cobra, not to be some mindless dreamer. 

You were useless in combat compared to your mother; the grip on your weapon would always waver and your feet would sway at the thought of killing someone. You always ended up being one of the first spotted in the League’s version of Hide and Seek and subsequently faced harsh punishment. Logically, you weren’t the most competent war strategist either. Sure, you weren’t an idiot, but planning a tactical win against a horde of ninja’s was not your forte. 

And you would never be able to calculate the trajectory you would need to throw a shuriken in order for it to slice someone’s neck. 

A people pleaser at heart, you certainly tried your best to be who your mother wished you to be. Despite your heart wanting to hurdle itself away into the night sky so it could be at peace with the stars, it was trapped in this monstrous clay construction, doomed to kill - doomed to serve. 

Wake up. 

Train. 

Eat. 

Train. 

Meditate. 

Study.

Train. 

Eat.

Shower. 

Sleep. 

Repeat. 

Life was a broken record, repeating its meaningless tune to an empty audience. So you hoped. You eagerly wished for some sort of reprieve, searched for a meaning more than destruction with frantic hands and wild eyes until you struck gold. Soon, your hope bloomed into a boy. 

Damian was the son of Talia Al Ghul, with a soft face and forest green eyes, the raven black hair atop his head swooping to the right. He shouldered the weight of his family, his legacy and it showed. His confidence was as lustrous as an emerald. By the age of nine, he could easily take down every single member of the league (with the exception of his family) and had the tactical brilliance of Sun Tzu. 

Damian was not known for his kindness, no one in the League was. You were all raised to be merciless killers, mercy would only display weakness and get yourself killed. Damian seemed to detest everyone in the League, so it puzzled you as to why someone like him decided to show you kindness. 

Due to your inept nature, most leaguers often mocked you for your incompetence in battle. Their insults were displayed on your body like intricate cave paintings. Damian was the only exception, the radiant diamond that made you feel like the luckiest person. You weren’t sure if it was out of pity or sympathy, but he quickly became your one and only friend. 

His touch was delicate, as if he were grasping at the stem of a dandelion in order to preserve a wish. Words fell out of his mouth like an uplifting melody. Damian made it his personal mission to train you himself, if not to serve the League, than to at least protect yourself properly. You made it your mission to instill the same hope that burned through your bloodstream.

Training sessions that were filled with monochrome decay suddenly overflowed with special secrets and inside jokes between you and Damian - stories shared, wishes whispered, and dreams dreamt in the massive room that instantaneously felt too cramped. It felt like stealing bits and pieces of your childhoods back, simultaneously feeling enough yet not enough at all. 

The first genuine smile Damian gave you felt like you were just given the keys to a whole kingdom. There was something so uniquely special about it, as if you just discovered the end of a rainbow. He had a couple of missing teeth that you assumed would grow back in a few months, eyes crinkling for what seemed to be the first time ever. 

You expressed to him your desire to leave behind the legacy of your mother, to become a leaf swept up by the wind instead of being the bark that stubbornly grew its roots in one spot since at least the leaf would experience more of life than the tree ever will, even if it becomes brittle rust within a few days. 

More than anything, you wished to be swept away by the wind, the tide, anything would do really. 

He confided that he, deep down, wished to spend his days painting and growing a menagerie of rescued animals instead of living in the shadow of his mother and grandfather. But unlike you, he was also committed to proving himself and making a difference. He was the very best of the best, and his talent would be wasted if he were just a measly painter. 

Just as he trained you to fight properly, you encouraged him to pursue what he wanted, even if it went against everything else he was taught. 

After a few years of growing with each other, blossoms of a strong admiration and affection began to develop. Despite knowing loving him would face scorn, it was hope that made you believe you had a chance.

“I promise you, when I am in charge, you will be able to leave this place anytime you please.” He said to you, giving you that wicked smirk he always did when he was awfully proud of himself.  

  Damian covertly fashioned a simple promise band that day. It was made of softened branches, braided with the delicacy of hair. Tangled between the braids were small baby’s-breath, winking at you as the sun illuminated their features. He slipped it on your ring finger, as if it was a proposal, as if the two of you had a choice all along. 

The ring used to be a sign of innocent childhood romance, the physical embodiment of your hope. You used to clutch it tightly, wearing it with pride wherever you went, not knowing that life was sneaking up behind you to violently snatch it away with its bony hands and cold grasp. 

Now it just hung loosely around your neck, tucked underneath your clothes and hidden from the sunlight. You had walked the fine line between hope and delusion and it was only when Damian left that you realized you had been worshiping gods who would never hear your pleas. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gotham city twinkled under the guidance of the waxing moon, and for a moment, it almost looked beautiful. But it was a city where crime never slept, where screams echoed and smog filled the air. It was a constant reminder of why Damian will keep fighting, even if his body aches, even if he is beaten down time and time again. 

His purpose was to protect and save people, and he would do so even if it killed him. He was so eager to succeed, to strive and be better that it sometimes blinded him. But it was better than facing failure; it tasted of rotten fruit and bitter mugmort and he was not jumping at the chance to taste it again. Letting someone die was worse than making the choice to kill someone. 

Perched on one of the gargoyles, the stone withering from the constant downpours, Damian allowed himself to be consumed by the thought of you. You never belonged somewhere like the League of Assassins, and Damian used to find it amusing. A group of highly skilled killers and one girl who only longed to be a professional dreamer, to soar the skies instead of being trapped in a steel cage - a girl that reminded him that there was more to life than just fulfilling a legacy. The last time he talked to you was almost a decade ago. He recalls the exact way your smile disappeared, the way the sunlight in your eyes was swept away by dark, foggy clouds. 

Remembers how he swore to come back for you, only to be told you were killed right before he came back. Heartbreak consumed him then and it only worsened with time. Despite lashing out on everyone, Damian knew deep down it was his fault. 

That is why he fights. 

But tonight, Gotham was mostly quiet. Damian’s shoulders fell as he let the rain wash over him, letting the tension melt away. The night was growing old and since there was nothing amiss, he decided it best to retire for the night. 

Making sure not to misstep, Damian got up and lifted himself onto the rooftop of the industrial building, gripping the grappling hook and preparing to swing himself to safety. 

The hook latched into the darkened building, allowing Damian to swing across. Tainted air filled his lungs, settling into his body with a delicate sting, wind whipping angrily through his hair. It was the closest Damian ever felt to flying, to touching the same blue canvas you wished to be a part of. 

A loud snap ripped through the air, and before Damian could react, he was rolling on the floor and bumping into a putrid dumpster. Damian grimaced. The pavement sweated with grime, making it more of an  inconvenience for him to jump back up and assess the damage done. 

The cord of the grappling hook had split in two but the cut seemed too precise with the frayed ends sticking up equally, meaning that the rope did not just snap; it must have been cut with something sharp enough to slice through enhanced nylon. 

Damian dropped the rope and slinked back into the corner, his eyes squinting through the dark. He watched the shadows cautiously and slowed his breath to a faint whisper; the grip on his sword tightened until his knuckles turned a pale white. 

There was a faint scurrying to his right, almost like a rat or another small rodent but the weight of each step did not match. The light steps progressively got louder, allowing Damian to step into the correct fighting stance. 

He caught the small shuriken between his fingers as it whirled towards his face “Tt, whoever you are, you are absolutely terrible at sneaking up on people.” He tossed the weapon to the grimy floor. “Reveal yourself.”

A person languidly stepped out from the darkness -  a walking shadow - with the only light reflected being from the glint of a palm sized weapon, most likely a dagger. Judging from the person’s curves and movement, he assumed they were a woman. If this was his mother’s doing, this would have been the first time she sent a woman after him. 

“Who are you?” He inquired, voice coarse and echoing across the walls of the alleyway. Instead of an answer, he was met with the sudden charge from the inexperienced assassin who’s blade barely grazed his cheek. Damian grabbed the woman’s forearm and twisted it, using his other arm to keep them at a safer distance as she tried to swing the dagger (incorrectly) at him like a magical wand. 

The woman grunted in pain, letting the dagger drop to the floor with a deafening clank. Letting her forearm go, Damian lightly kicked the person to the floor, pushing a fraction of his weight onto the solar plexus. He glared down, his eyes scanning the slick, black material and immediately recognized it as the one he was forced to wear when he was younger.

So his mother did send this person after him. 

“P-please…” It was a hushed mumble mixed together with the person’s frantic breaths. His eyes scanned again and he noticed the way the woman’s eyes were thin and constricted, examining him as he was her. The terrified look on her face seemed familiar, like something from a hazy dream or an old scrapbook. For a split second, Damian thought the person looked awfully similar to you, only for the thought to be immediately swept away as soon as it appeared. It couldn’t be you, you died. 

“Who are you?” He asked again, lightening the pressure of his foot. “Why did my mother send you after me?”

She continued to thrash around and murmur incoherent words, causing Damian to grumble. “If you aren’t going to answer me, I may as well dispose of-”

Before he could finish the empty threat, the hair of the woman, which shifted out of the shawl covering most of the face, leaked out like a tube of acrylic oil. The shade…it was similar to yours as well…

His heart began to leap in the air, long-forgotten hope pumping from his heart to his brain. He completely shifted his weight off of the woman and slowly leaned down. 

Of course, this could have been chalked up to wishful thinking and mindless absurdity. But he, deep down, wanted to believe, to hope. 

“I won’t hurt you…” He said softly, reaching out to the shawl. He tugged at it to reveal  a mess of hair the color of his wishes, prayers, and dreams combined. 

A few tears ran down the cheeks of the stranger, the fabric of the mask covering their mouth absorbing the liquid almost immediately. “D-don’t…shouldn’t…shouldn’t know who I am…”

“Why not?”

“I-I…you…” She paused, averting her eyes up to his once more. “Your mother wants you back in the League.” She finished, her gentler voice turning rigid and empty like a robot. 

“I’ve told her once that I do not wish to be part of her League. I’m not sure how many times I need to make this explicitly clear to her.” 

“No!” She suddenly pounced on Damian, voice quivering as she pressed another shuriken to his neck. “You can’t do that! Please, Damian. You don’t understand, t-the League needs you, I-I….I need to take you home o-or…or else…”

Damian felt his soul tear itself from his body, felt as if every single wound he tried desperately to cover was unearthed and drenched in lemon juice and salt. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to break out into laughter or crumble into tears. 

Dangling between the two was an old and battered ring, decayed with age. Everything began to click together. The hair was the same beautiful shade, the voice was almost the exact melody, even the combat reflected the same clumsy style.

It was you. 

Your eyes wandered down, widening once they saw that the ring escaped the confines of your shirt. You hastily ripped it out of Damian’s view, quickly dropping the artillery and scrambling off of him, your chest heaving. 

“Y/n…” He hesitantly reached for the warmth of your hand, not wanting to let you slip through his fingers again. It was a miracle, a shooting star in the palm of his hand, twinkling with the fiery hope of a phoenix feather. He already lost you once, broke his promise, and he will never let that happen again. 

“You left me…you left me there to die…” You nudged his hand away, refusing to turn towards him. 

“I would never leave you there to die! I came back for you a few months later once I convinced my father and I was told you died on a mission! They said your mother did not want to revive you because you were useless!” He argued. 

Damian reached for you again, desperately, the need to see you smile for him, because of him overrunning every sense of logic he normally abided by. Your shoulders were tensed as the rest of your body trembled, managing to break Damian’s frigged heart even more. 

“I looked for you everywhere. I almost killed every single person in that fucking building when they said you were murdered, as if it did not matter.” He said in a broken mutter. Damian let his arms wrap around your neck loosely, resting his chin delicately on your head. “I’m sorry, Y/n…I…I failed you.”

You placed your jittery hands on top of his and clutched them just as you did when you were both younger. The sleeves of the assassin attire fell down to your elbows, exposing branches of lighter skin, twisting and curling like cruel birthmarks. “What happened to you?”

Damian couldn’t help but trace the scars with his index finger, counting how many he noticed. Blood trickled down his lip as he tried not to let rage cloud his judgment. 

“When you left…m-my mother…she…” As tears slipped down your cheeks, Damian couldn’t contain the urge to gently kiss them away the same way he did the day he left. “Training became more intense…I was sent on more missions and…and every time I failed…”

Your voice trailed off, replaced with painful cries. “I-If I don’t bring you back…if you don’t rejoin the League again she might actually kill me…” 

Damian watched as you erratically took off the first layer of clothing, revealing a plethora of scars along your arms and neck, down to your clavicle.Whatever restraint Damian clung onto vanished as easily as a swift slice; a bomb ticking down to its demise would have been more nimble. 

“They won’t be getting away with this.” Damian got up, dusting off the filth on his pants, a plan formulating in his mind. He could call up Jason who would definitely not mind killing off some Leaguers who stepped out of line. He will call his father as well and they’ll discuss negotiations for your release. You could be safe with him, with his family. He would be able to grant you your every wish and desire, exactly how he promised. 

You tugged on his sleeve. “Damian…I can’t…I have to take you home. Please, I already know I can’t fight you.”

“I am not going anywhere, Y/n, and neither are you. I told you I would free you from the League when I was nine, and I plan to keep that promise.” He managed a soft smile, hoping that it would ease away the creases on your countenance, to paint over your frown and replace it with moonbeams and sunlight. He wanted to restore the hopeful blaze in your eyes.

Your frown only deepened. “Damian, you don’t understand, I can’t. I can’t run, I can’t escape.”

You shook your head, attempting to wipe away the tears in vain. “The happy ending that I wished for, it was stolen from me, Damian, and I will never get it back. I was wrong to hope.”  

“If you believed that, then you wouldn’t be wearing the ring I gave you. Y/n, you were the one who told me that I wasn’t tied to my heritage! That I could be whoever I wanted to be and do whatever I wanted to do even if it went against my family's wishes.” He fought back. “I won’t allow someone to throw your life away, Y/n. You have a choice. I can protect you.”

Palming your cheek, Damian pulled you into an embrace. The thought of you going back to someone who would only torture you, kill you, hurt him more than he would ever be able to admit. 

“They’d come after me, Dami. They will hunt me down and off me the moment I let my guard down. I would never be truly free, there would be no point.” You lightly pushed him away from you again, hands resting on his chest. For a moment, he wondered if you could feel the drumming of his heartbeat, the way it raced faster than his mind could keep up with. 

“And you don’t think I can protect you?” He replied, voice softening as he urged his legs to step an inch closer, and then another inch. “I would never let anyone hurt you, not ever again.”

Your eyes met with his own, and Damian hoped that the small glimmer he saw meant he was getting through the years of brainwashing, tugging at the strand of hope he knew you had left in you. Your lips parted slightly only to close a few seconds later. With your shoulders slumped, nose bright red, and cheeks gleaming with tears, you slumped into his arms and began to fully weep. 

It caught Damian off guard to see the intense emotion but it did not make him uncomfortable like it usually did; no, instead he felt a pang of sympathy coiling in his stomach, growing into vines and clawing up his throat and daring him to speak. 

“I’m so scared.” You whimpered, clutching onto his cape as if he were as fair weathered as a butterfly. “I-I…I…”

“I know. It’s alright.” He said. “I’m here.” 

Damian made a mental note to thank Dick for teaching him how to comfort others. He pulled you out of the disgusting alleyway and out into the quiet street. Getting you somewhere safe was his first priority and there was no safer space than Wayne Manor.  

“Where are we going?” 

“My family home. My father will be there and so will some of my siblings. It is absolutely the safest place in Gotham for you.”

The cold air seemed more bearable when the comfort of your hand rested in his. The stirrings of a former childhood crush resurfaced the more he looked at you. Despite that though, he knew it would not be fair to push his feelings onto you. If he did, Damian would be no better than the people who controlled you your entire life. 

“I thought you would have forgotten me by now.” You turned towards him, the edges of your mouth twisting into the first smile he had seen from you in years. 

“Forgetting you would be like forgetting how to paint.” He remarked.

A feeling of calmness wrapped itself around the two of you like a snug quilt. Damian could sense that you were still nervous if the constant swerving of your head at any sudden noise was anything to go by, but every time he made sure to pull you closer to show he was not going anywhere. 

By the time that the both of you reached the Manor, your breath managed to settle into a slower rhythm. Damian watched as your lips formed into an O as you stared up at the daunting Victorian-esque building. 

“I’ve always wanted to visit a castle…” You mumbled under your breath, tipping your head curiously the same way you did when you sneakily read the banned fairytales your mother was avidly against. 

Damian chuckled at the response. “And I always said I would take you to one.”

As he guided you through the Manor, the smile on your face began to appear more vividly. His family was surprised, but once he explained the situation, they eagerly welcomed you with open arms. Damian made sure to have Alfred fetch you some nicer clothes for resting while he held you in his arms. 

Ever since the both of you were younger, you taught Damian the importance of hope and - even if it took years - he was more than happy to help you believe in it again.

Did I reread this again before publishing? NOPE

But did I figure out the read more thingy? HELL YES

I consider this a win lol

#Damian Wayne #Damian Wayne x Reader #Damian Al Ghul #League of Assassins #Damian Wayne x Y/n #DC #Comics #Angst #Hurt/Comfort #Romance #I support healthy relationships #Damian Wayne is a little yandere in this I think oops #Batman #Talia Al Ghul #Requested #Anon requests

[visionofhope04]

Omg I just reread Neglected again thanks to the ask and the way that story hurts and ended is soo satisfying I was wondering what would Talia think of the while thing goin down? Did she also favor Damien? and I also had forgotten that batsis was brought back to life like Jason, like how did she die? Also I'm sorry for bothering of I am this story is just amazing to read

You're not bothering me at all! Thank you so much for reading it. I'm glad you enjoy it

Talia wouldn't know until it was too late. It'd take a long time for her to rebuild the League and she'd be busy making sure the people in the League were ones she could trust. She'd check on them from a distance but never interact with them. She didn't want to put them in more danger by having enemies see she knew them. Due to her upbringing, she'd have a prejudice towards Damian as he'd be the heir of the League since he's a male. Ra's didn't let Talia be the heir due to her gender and enforced the importance of a male heir. She'd subconsciously be sexist but for the most part doesn't believe women are inferior to men. She did her best to raise her children equally despite the circumstances and did not approve of the batfam's treatment towards her daughter (besides Jason). She makes sure to send Jason a special hand-crafted dagger as a thank you for being there for batsis (he's very confused but delighted as it came with no note). As for being brought back to life, I don't remember that part of the story but she protected Ra's from a traitor. He was about to be shot but batsis got in the way and killed the traitor. She bled out from the bullet wound and multiple cuts. An unidentified poison was on the blade she was cut with. The Lazarus pit wouldn't be used if she'd died in combat under other circumstances as she'd be considered not good enough.

#batfamily #batfam x reader #batsis!reader #batfam x batsis #batsis x batfamily #batsis x batfam #batfam x neglected!batsis!reader #talia and damian #jason todd #talia al ghul #damianwayne #damian wayne #damian wayne x sister!reader #damian wayne x batsis #ras al ghul #league of assassins

[ikkbtsprincess]

can anyone pls help me find a Damian Wayne Wattpad fic with an injustice cover the story goes like Damian travelled accidentally in the real world and met y/n and fell in love with her couldn't find it🥹 pls help me

:ps, it's an old fanfic 🥹

#damian wayne x you #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #dc #injustice #league of assassin #titans #young justice #batman #robin

[morgansunflower]

Can't Run From Me

Garfield Logan X Batsis! Reader

Damian Wayne X Raven

Warnings:suggestive content, explicit language and angst

Words:1476

Arthur's notes! Third P. O. V! Reader is Damian's full blood sister! Good mom Talia. Loosely based off of Beast Boy Loves Raven.

Requested taglist @too-strong-to-lose

To spare those whom they love Damian and his twin blood sister Y/N leave their family.

Y/N touches Alfred's head. He was almost killed by the assassin's Ra's sent. Alfred was hooked to a breathing machine and covered completely in bandages. This was a message. A threat.

"I'm so sorry Alfred.."

Gathering only what she needs, excluding anything her father could use to track her down. As everyone's main focus was on Alfred she used to the opportune moment to leave. Can't harm the target if the target isn't there. She hated not telling Damian goodbye or her family. Jason was going to have a justifiable shit fit. Dick will probably panic for a very long time. The whole family will probably try to find her but she can't let that happen. She had to erase all contact with her friends and family.. Including her fiancé Garfield. Y/N traveled deep in the woods. She started a small fire. She lays a small blanket on the ground. She hears rustling in the woods. She quickly took her weapons out.

"tt I've been tracking you for 90 miles" Damian says walking closer to his sister.

"Damian! What are you doing here?!" she shouted in frustration putting her, weapons back.

"the same reason you are. You weren't the only intended target" he coldly said.

"you know we can never see any of them again. You won't be able to see Raven"

".. I know..." he said bitter

"if you want to cry it's OK I cried for like 3 hours"

"I'm fine and I already know you did!" he snapped

Garfield tried calling Y/N but the stupid thing kept dropping his call. She wasn't home or anywhere he checked. Rachel teleported to each location she knew Damian could be and for some strange reason she can't mind-link with him. Garfield and Rachel look for each other hoping the other knew where their significant other was.

"Garfield! Where's Damian?" she demanded with her eyes glared.

"where's Y/N? Wait you can't find Damian?.."

"you can't find Y/N?.."

"you don't think that they?.." Gar stammered.

"Damian won't allow me into his mind... Either he's dead or he is going to be" she said with her hands on her hips angered.

"they really do not handle guilt well"

Y/N and Damian stood back to back. She held the sword her mother gave her while Damian held his own sword. They both spin a circle as the assassin's swarm around them.

"I told you we should have gone northwest!" Damian hissed

"at least they can't hurt anyone we care about.. You should have stayed home" she bitterly mumbled "as tempting as I know it is for you.. Don't kill"

"I know!" he snapped

Y/N blocked the blow from assassin. Damian and Y/N held them off as best as they could. She runs skidding to cut the leg of the assassin running to Damian. She thrust kicked an assassin. They were outnumbered... Y/N blocked holding back the large assassin's sword. She struggles as he inches closer. Damian tried to get to his sister but he was surrounded. Suddenly a bear roars in the distance. Raven appears, she uses her powers to throw several assassin's to the trees. Garfield runs to Y/N tackling the assassin. He pins him down to the ground roaring to him. Y/N kicked the assassin running to Garfield. They run to Gar as he thrust them away with his paws.

"retreat!!"

The rest of the assassin's listened to their order's. Rachel landed onto her feet.

"Beloved--" she slaps him across his face "I suppose I deserved that..."

Y/N lifts her head to her lover, still in a bear form. He lowly arched his back down to her and growled angered.

"I know.." she sighed

He changed to his original self and pulls her into his arms.

"after all we've been through.. Shit.. Baby you could've.. "

He gives her sweet kiss trying to calm down his anxiety from almost losing her.

"I'm sorry" she apologized genuinely

"you are so important to me babe. I love you. I am here for you"

In Gotham their absence was truly worrying the family. After endless hours of searching.. Jason laid down on his side unable to calm down. Artemis could feel the stress radiating off of him. She had just returned to find her husband in his great distress. She lays in the bed with him. She kisses his temple and then snaked her hand down his chest.

"I'm not in the mood Artemis" he snapped

Rather than get upset she knew something was very wrong by the hint of sadness in his tone and that he didn't even want to have sex.

"my love" she kisses his neck "turn around"

He turns around to face her. She holds his hand. He pulls her to lay on his chest. She leans her head up to kiss his face.

He stuttered shaken from his emotions trying to get the better of him "if that bastard fucking hurts them" he fights tears "there just kids Artemis, what if he?.. Why the hell didn't they come to me?.. We can't find Talia.. For all we know she could be.. " he let out a deep breath trying to calm his emotions.

That morning they went to Garfield's safe house. Each couple shared their own respected rooms. Whilst in each other's arms, Garfield kisses his fiancée. They had been engaged for 3 months now. His poor lover had been sick. Throwing up during the mornings, she seemed sore in all the right or wrong places. She laid with Gar while closely to him. Garfield eyes went wide hearing something very special in her abdomen area. He leans down as she sleeps listening very carefully. Their babies.. Two little babies. That following day Garfield and Damian went on patrol to ensure that they were safe from any threats.

"stay 5 feet away from me.. I don't want to get sick"

Garfield rolled his eyes at his friend's remark. Afterwards they changed to their civilian clothes to get food before heading home. Garfield snuck away from Damian to the baby department. He looked at the array of infant clothes feeling quite overwhelmed. Damian approached his friend.

"don't you suppose it be wise to wait for your urges to start a family" Damian scolded

"that's true but..." he lifts up the little Batman themed onesies with a, soft smile "it's kinda too late"

"Garfield..... Is my sister?" Damian was completely taken aback.

"two buns are currently in the oven... You gonna kill--" Garfield stammered as he smiled. "are you ok?"

"delighted" he smiled. "however you should learn to control your urges"

"well I'm not the one who wan--" he cut Garfield off quickly

"again must I remind you she is, my sister!!"

Back home.

"deep breaths Y/N. I sense your quite nervous. What's wrong?" Rachel asked her friend.

"I.. I think I'm pregnant" she blurted out

Y/N and Rachel walk through the store to look for pregnancy tests. She grabbed several boxes. Rachel went to snacks that Y/N had been craving for. She made her way to the baby clothes unable to avoid them. She sees her husband to be. He was shocked seeing her beautiful face. She sees him holding the infant outfits and two little stuffed bears. She was speechless. Rachel walked up holding the snacks and saw Damian with a kind smile. That instantly made her want to start a family with him. Garfield looks at the pregnancy test. He smiled softly.

"you uh.. You can put those back" he said

She couldn't move as she was genuinely overwhelmed. Her eyes begin to shake. Damian takes the boxes away from his sister to put them back but not before kissing her head. Garfield walks closer to her taking her face into his hands. He kisses her and hugs her. Garfield put the adorable infant clothes back and gives the bears to Dami with the money for them. He then took his lover outside to the car. She was already in tears. He opens the car, door for her. They sit in the car together.

"y-you're sure?.." she asked before she broke.

"I'm completely certain.." his eyes start to shake as cups her abdomen "and I'm also certain that I am so so happy.. I'm so sorry you can't be with your family. It kills me that I can't fix this.. I know it's too dangerous, but I--" he holds her hand "I promise that this is not going to be forever. Sooner or later we will see your family and.. My family too.."

She kisses him "Garfield, my only love. I appreciate all you've done to keep me safe. We are going to be, OK"

He nodded beginning to feel quite emotional hugging her "I know with you with me, I'll be OK. That we'll be ok"

#Garfield Logan #Garfield X Batsis! Reader #Damirae #Garfield Logan X Reader #Beast boy #Beast Boy X reader #Fluff #Good mom Talia #Jason Todd knew Damian and Y/N in the league of assassins #Big bro #Whump! Alfred #Alfred Pennyworth #Batfamily #bruce wayne #Brutalia #Pregnancy #Jaytemis

[deathmetalangel]

LIFE IS UNFAIR, KILL YOURSELF, OR GET OVER IT (DAMIAN WAYNE X F!READER/PLATONIC)

warnings: violence, blood, death, mentions of suicide, suicidal thoughts, mentions of child abuse, verbal abuse, extreme injuries

damian wayne fighting alongside his knight, and the first person to gain his respect.

based on child psychology by black box recorder and some random evangelion dialogue

Y/n was a silent child. Harsh to the outside world much like it was to her. No, she wasn’t like those spoilt brats that believed everything should be handed to her. She just didn’t want to fight anymore.

Since the age of three y/n was forced to wield a blade. A weapon born of her pitiful mothers womb. To be handed over to the League of Assassin’s following her birth like a calf ready to be raised for the slaughter. She was only trained as a formality. They had full intention of using her to her fullest and then disposing of her.

Perhaps she’d be lucky and die on the battlefield as her creator intended. If not, then may the universe have mercy on her soul. Even though she was raised to protect the heir, she did rarely see him. He was training with his mother Talia, while she was trained by Talia’s sister to ensure nothing happened to the young master.

She did have her own forms of rebellion, but all of them were short lived. Her silence to keep everything out was met with the annoyance of her higher ups as well as starvation until she could actually say what she wanted. It didn’t matter to her. Y/n only waited for the fateful day she would rush into battle and he ended by a fatefully and precisely aimed weapon. Then she would be freed of her servitude she was born into.

When she was a bit older she retaliated by lacking in her training. Showing no interest in working for her tormentors. She was beaten until she couldn’t move. It didn’t matter to her. None of it did. All y/n cared about was shunning everything that came her way. Even those saddened glances Nyssa directed towards her as her body was dragged away by guards.

Y/n had contemplated death many times. Even Damian could see that in the passing glances he got at his knight during missions or throughout the compound. However, she vowed to never die to someone below her caliber. Her training wouldn’t be for nought. Despite her distain for the rigorous and harsh techniques being beaten into her bones, she acknowledged their effectiveness.

She had deciced long ago to either die on her own terms or not at all. Only a coward would die to someone weaker than they were. Y/n was many things, but a coward was definitely something she wasn’t.

Her blade rested on her hip as she stood by her liege. Maybe the gods would grant mercy upon her today. They were under attack. Her assignment was to guard the heir with her last breath. She very well intended to do so. If it meant granting her the eternal freedom she craved.

Damian shifts nervously in her presence. Y/n had a powerful aura that demanded the attention of those around her. Yet, as if to get back at life she remained unfazed and silent. Like a child throwing a tantrum, but with the silent treatment in order to get what they want.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized. Y/n was just a child. She was actually younger than he was. Never given the chance to grow up at all. Even after sixteen grueling years, she’s still a child mentally. A child that knows only to complain to get what they want. Or in order to stop what they don’t.

“Stop acting so stiff. You look like a cardboard cutout.” Damian snips at the girls cold demeanor, for being one year his junior she sure acted much older than he ever did. Which is why she remained silent at his childish taunt. “If I have to endure being around such a pathetic wind up doll like you, the least you can do is humor me by saying something. Or do you only speak when your master asks you too.”

He was growing more frustrated as he failed to rile her up. The trait one reminiscent of his mothers temper when people don’t fall for her charms. “I am not a doll.” Like a meak pathetic child she finally whispers out.

“You are! You’d do anything you’re ordered to don’t you? You’d kill yourself if grandfather told you too, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course. It’s my job to follow orders. However, it is not in my intention to die in such a manner.”

Damian was annoyed at the girl who spoke in front of him. Her cold eyes looked back at him, yet she still refused to face him. Y/n was almost lifeless, a broken record that can only play a certain tune if any. It aggravated many of her superiors when they seen how docile and pathetic she was outside of the battlefield.

“Not your intention? You belong to the League of Assassins you cannot have an intended way to die. If you die at least you die with some dignity, why did you even choose to be here if you’re so pathetic. You’re a disgrace to my families legacy and name.” Damian grew more annoyed at her by the second. Nothing seemed to phase her. How could someone like her even guard him.

Yet she retained her composure. One thing she swore not to lose to the world, was her temper. As long as she had control over it she would never lash out. Not on the battlefield, not at her superiors, not at her subordinates, never. A final form of retaliation. “I did not choose this life, Master Damian.”

When she fully turns around to face him Damian ceases his anger. She wasn’t a born killer that wanted to climb the ranks, she was a teenage girl that had no choice. The ground trembles above them alerting them of oncoming assailants. Y/n moves to barricade the door quickly and effortlessly. “What do you mean you didn’t choose this life? How could you be MY knight if you didn’t even want to be here in the first place?”

She never did know much about her mother. Nyssa had spoke very seldom of her, and it was obvious neither sister held her in high regard. “My mother was apart of the League. Our mothers were friends in fact. However, my mother fell in love with a man who wanted nothing to do with her. Nor the life she harbored inside of her. In a weak attempt to leave the League she offered me as her replacement. You were just born, so she thought it would be fitting. Talia accepted, but she was killed not long after.” Y/n states with no empathy for her birth giver.

To her, the woman was crass and idiotic. How could any woman, let alone one trained under Ra’s Al Ghul, be so foolish. “Your mother was an assassin?” Damian whispered to her as the room started to shake more. The sound of shooting and shouting filled the room.

“Talia held her in high regard, however she was still an incompetent woman. And here I am making up for her mistakes. Pathetic.” It was one thing she’d learn in time to get over, yet it was like the wound stayed fresh.

Damian remains still. “Well, life is unfair. Kill your self or get over it.” The boy instinctively pulls out his sword when the attackers get closer. Soon they’d be discovered and y/n would he put through the ringer if she failed her duty. She ignores the boy and stands at the ready. She’d be damned if some temperamental brat got the better of her.

The door bursts open and five large men, almost twice her size enter. They take quick notice of Damian and rush to apprehend him. Y/n bounds forward with her blade and precisely kicks two of them back. “Kill the brat and get the kid.”

One goes to grab her when she flips over his grasp, her blade follows her path and slices upwards cutting upwards on the attackers face and jugular. She lands crouched and quickly dashes at the second man. He pulls out his gun to shoot her when she ducks and kicks the gun upwards. In his surprise y/n takes her advantage and slashes at his chest.

Damian is backed into a corner when she becomes aware of him again. He pushes forward with his katana, but it’s basically for nothing when y/n uses her tactical rope to wrap around the main guys neck. She yanks it back with a satisfying crunch as it clamps down on his trachea and he’s pulled back into her awaiting foot that just finishes him off. “Don’t go near him.” She musters up whatever emotion she has, sounding colder than ever.

One man turns around and spits on the ground, he was fully prepared to beat the sixteen year old into the ground. “Zip it pipsqueak.” He moves towards her while she lunges. Her blade is deflected by the brass knuckles on his fists. She tries to dodge his right hook, but it was near impossible in midair. His punch lands clean on her side cracking ribs and sending her straight into the brick wall.

She looks up through blurred vision. What kind of steroids were the thugs on? It had to be top of the line to best her reflexes and break bone without much effort. Damian looks over to the girl and can't help but feel guilty. She was putting her life on the line for him. Even if it was the way of the League, she wanted to part of it. Yet, she did her job anyways. And here she was about to die for the sake of his protection. She was just like him. A terrified teenager who's in way over their head. Not that he'd ever admit the anxiety that his role in the League gave him.

Damian readjusts his grip on his sword and charges full force at the second to last assailant. With his guard lowered for a second he is granted a small window of opportunity to land an attack that can actually do something. For some reason he truly did care what the girl thought of him. And the last thing he wanted was for her to see him as a weakling that would need protection. Despite her role, what kind of man would he be. He raises his sword over his head and brings it down to slice the man's extended fist. It was his only available target.

The bloody mess barely phased the thug. He turns towards Damian with anger written across his face. "What are you doing?! You're ruining my plan!" Y/n jumps back into action ignoring the excruciating pain that erupts through her chest with every breath. In the blink of an eye she kicks back one attacker and throws knives at the other to force him towards the wall.

"And what exactly is this plan of yours?"

Y/n rearms herself with her katana and gets into a defensive stance in front of Damian. "My plan is to beat these guys and die in the process. They seem worthy enough to kill me once this is over. Now, don't make me say it again. And don't get in my way. This is the will of life, the world. It is my destined fate." His throat drops to his stomach watching the girl talk so blatantly about throwing her life away like a piece of garbage. She was assigning herself a suicide mission! What kind of woman.

He gets interrupted in his thoughts when the closest man pulls out his gun. He starts to open fire making her maneuver rather uncomfortably. She evades and tries to get close enough to strike. It leaves Damian to block the bullets as best he can with his sword, a very difficult feat even for him.

As she lines up her attack her hair gets yanked back. "Quit being such a god damned nuisance would ya. This brat ain't worth the trouble you're going through to protect him. So do us all a favor and just give up princess." It was like fire burned through her veins as her face scrunched up in anger. She was not going to be captured and belittled by such a primitive man.

Adrenaline pushes her forward as she tosses swings her body forward and kicks the gun from the first attackers hand right from underneath his grip. She aimed her kick to send the weapon back into the hands of Damian. He catches it carefully before cocking the loaded gun. "Aim for the trachea!"

He does just as she says and takes down one man leaving only the one currently restraining her. Taking notice of the odds he quickly moves the girl in front of his body to shield himself as well as yanks the blade out of her hands. He holds the sharpened metal up to her throat right underneath her chin. "Shoot and she's dead. One shot won't do much damage anyways."

Damian stands still. He was at a crossroads. How could he justify any of his actions moving forward. Would he carelessly discard the life of the only person willing to protect and fight along side him just for the protection of his own? How could he. "Damian, Damian! Listen to me!" Her voice breaks his train of thought. She was still calm, almost like a robot only raising her voice to get through to him. "Aim for the cardiovascular muscle."

"What?! Are you crazy! How could you tell me to do that?"

She simply looks at him with a contented smile. "Shoot and you make it out with your life. It is as you said before, I am a doll. Never truly being alive. I only lived to serve, and this is my final service to you, Master Damian." The man glares at Damian and begins to bring the blade closer to her skin beginning to draw blood. Her breath hitches for just a moment while blood begins to trickle down.

"You aren't a doll! You're not a robot either! I'm sorry! You've done so much I cannot ask you to do this."

"But if I don't, I'll be killed anyways. Please Master Damian, allow me this luxury. A final rebellion against the cruel world I was born into. Allow me to be killed by the only person I've been able to trust."

Damian was confused. "What do you mean?"

She smiles, a rare sight. "We grew up together Dami. Now do me that favor owed, and pull the trigger." The oaf finally catches on to their plan. Before he can kill her the shot rings out going through her chest and into his. Damian's brain was running laps as everything fell into place. He rushes to catch her body before it hits the ground.

Memories invade his senses as his childhood unfolds before him all over again. She was raised with him. They were friends, although he never heard her speak. Damian remains stoic while he watches the life fade from her eyes. Blood covered his body as she bled out. The adrenaline that helped her pain had subsided. So she would die a painful, yet quick death.

"I'm sorry." Damian rasps out in fear of his voice breaking. Her eyes were unfocused, but she still responded. A simple smile and nod were all he was given before she started to choke on her blood. All of her wounds were catching up to her.

It was a long time before his mother and aunt found him. And there he sat still cradling the girls body as if she hadn't been long dead and all proof of life had been eradicated from her body. Talia rushes for her son and glances down at what was once his knight. "Such a pitiful girl, she couldn't even protect her own life. Damian. Are you okay?" She cradles her sons face.

Nyssa ignores her relatives and grabs the girls corpse from Damian's arms despite his slight resistance. "I'm fine mother." Damian whispers while he watches his aunt. She carefully sits down on the bloodied floor and lays y/n on the ground. Nyssa tenderly brushes the hair out of the young girls face and closes her eyes. Her compassion could easily be mistaken for motherly. And in some ways it was.

"She told me to kill her. That it was the only way to make sure I live. She sacrificed herself for me." Damian would never cry, but he desperately wanted too.

"That was her job son. Don't feel pity for her when it was the only reason we kept her around. If she was any better at fighting it would have never even came to that." Talia speaks with distaste towards the girl. Nyssa holds her tongue.

"That isn't fair mother! She never wanted this! I didn't want to let her die! There has to be something we can do! Anything! Aunt Nyssa please!" Damian begins to plead like a child.

His mother was growing annoyed. "And what would you suggest we do Damian? Use a Lazarus Pit just for her? A pitiful solider? That's laughable. I do not want to hear any of it Damian. I don't care what she told you, she owed her life to the League of Assassins and she gave her life protecting its heir. So drop it."

Nyssa stays as Talia drags Damian out of the desolated room leaving the woman alone with her child.

#deathmetalangel #damian wayne #Damian wayne x reader #dc x reader #dc comics #batfamily #league of assassins #talia al ghul #nyssa al ghul #Damian wayne x you #damian wayne x female reader

[writing-for-the-hell-of-it]

his angel in discise pt 1

Come along see how y/n and Damian end up together In a bad place the doctor assassin y/n and killer assassin Vigilante Damian

"22 year old Damian stood all alone with the justice league tied up about the fight Slade Wilson as the battle gaged who is worried no one to back him up until she drops down she was there shadow he watched as spade jumped and she blocked as the entered a intense battle not knowing if they'd come out victorious"

See them grow and get through hard times watch him fall for her and her fall for him

character list ch 2 ch 3 ch 4

DISCLAIMER: I do not own dc or any other character In this unless started otherwise all dc character are from the Warner bros

⚠️WARNING⚠️ Blood cussing fighting some spicy seen no full on smut

𝟚𝟛:𝟘𝟘 𝕕𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟚𝟚 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟡

22 ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴏʟᴅ Dᴀᴍɪᴀɴ sᴛᴏᴏᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴊᴜsᴛɪᴄᴇ ʟᴇᴀɢᴜᴇ ᴛɪᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪɢʜᴛ Sʟᴀᴅᴇ Wɪʟsᴏɴ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ ɢᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴡʜᴏ ɪs ᴡᴏʀʀɪᴇᴅ ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ʜɪᴍ ᴜᴘ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ sʜᴇ ᴅʀᴏᴘs ᴅᴏᴡɴ sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ sʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ ᴀs sᴘᴀᴅᴇ ᴊᴜᴍᴘᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ sʜᴇ ʙʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴀ ɪɴᴛᴇɴsᴇ ʙᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡɪɴɢ ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴇʏ'ᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴠɪᴄᴛᴏʀɪᴏᴜs

Wᴏᴡ ᴡᴏᴡ ᴡᴏᴡ ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴛᴏ ꜰᴀʀ ᴀʜᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴇᴛ's ɢᴏ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴀ ʙɪᴛ sᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ɢᴇᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ's ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ʜᴇʀᴇ

ʟᴇᴛ's sᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴡʜᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇʟʟ ɪs sʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴡᴇʟʟ sʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ɪs ᴀʟsᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ᴀs Y/N ɪs ᴀ ᴛᴏᴘ ᴀssᴀssɪɴ ʙᴜᴛ sʜᴇ ɪs ᴀʟsᴏ ᴀ Wᴏʀʟᴅ ʀᴇɴᴏᴡɴᴇᴅ sᴜʀɢᴇᴏɴ sʜᴇ ɢʀᴀᴅᴜᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴍᴇᴅ sᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ʜᴇʀ 14 ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ʙʏ 16 ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ʀᴇɴᴜɴᴅ sᴜʀɢᴇᴏɴ ʙʏ 19 ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴏᴡ ᴅᴏᴇs sʜᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ Dᴀᴍɪᴇɴ ᴄᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀsᴋ ᴡᴇʟʟ sʜᴇ's ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɪᴅ ᴏꜰ Hᴀʀʟᴇʏ Qᴜɪɴɴ ᴀɴᴅ Sʟᴀᴅᴇ Wɪʟsᴏɴ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴀɴ ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛ sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴀɴ ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛ ʜᴇʀ ᴅᴀᴅ ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴅᴜᴍᴘᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴀᴛ Tʜᴇ Sᴀssᴀɴ ʙᴀsᴇ ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀɪᴛʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ Tɪᴍᴇ ʜᴇʀ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀ ʙᴜᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʙ ᴀʙᴜsᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ Jᴏᴋᴇʀ sʜᴇ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ɢᴏᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴅɪᴄɪɴᴇ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇsᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʜᴇʀ ᴍᴏᴍ's ᴏʟᴅ ᴘsʏᴄʜɪᴀᴛʀɪsᴛ sᴛᴜꜰꜰ sʜᴇ ᴛʀɪᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀ ʙᴇsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ɪɴ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇʀ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʀɪᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴜᴛ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇʀ ꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ʜᴀs ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ Dᴀᴍɪᴀɴ sɪɴᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜɴɢᴇʀ Dᴀᴍɪᴇɴ ᴡᴀs ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴇᴡ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ sʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴡɪᴛʜ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ꜰᴏʀ sʜᴇʟʟ sʜᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇᴡ ʜᴇʀsᴇʟꜰ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʜᴇʀ sᴛᴜᴅɪᴇs ᴡʜᴇɴ sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ʏᴏᴜɴɢᴇʀ ᴛʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ sᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ʜᴀɴɢɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ Dᴀᴍɪᴇɴ ᴛʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ sᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ʜᴀɴɢɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ Dᴀᴍɪᴇɴ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴜᴛɪɴᴇ ɴᴏᴡ ʟᴇᴛ's ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ʙᴀᴄᴋ sᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ sᴇᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴡᴀs ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜɴɢᴇʀ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇʏ sᴛɪʟʟ ʜᴀᴅ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴇ ɴᴇᴡ sʜᴇ sᴛɪʟʟ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍ ᴀɴᴅ sʜᴇ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴀ ᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇᴍ

4:15 ᴀᴜɢᴜsᴛ 13 2007

Hᴀʀʟᴇʏ Qᴜɪɴɴ ⵊ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴅᴇʟɪᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴀ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪꜰᴜʟ ʙᴀʙʏ ɢɪʀʟ sʜᴇ ɴᴀᴍᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀ Y/N sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs 7 ᴘᴏᴜɴᴅs 1 ᴏᴜɴᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ 19.4 ɪɴᴄʜᴇs ᴛᴀʟʟ ʜᴇʀ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴀs ɪɴ ʜɪᴅɪɴɢ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜᴇʀ sᴛᴇᴘꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴀs sʜᴇ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ᴀs ᴊᴏᴋᴇʀ

sʜᴇ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ʙɪʀᴛʜ ᴀᴛ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴠʏ's ɢʀᴇᴇɴʜᴏᴜsᴇ Tʜᴀʟɪ́ᴀ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ sᴜʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ʜᴇʀ ᴀ ʙɪʀᴛʜ ᴄᴇʀᴛɪꜰɪᴄᴀᴛᴇ ᴀs ᴀ ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀ ᴛᴏ Sᴇʟᴇɴᴀ ʙᴜᴛ sʜᴇ sᴇᴇᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ᴀɴᴅ sʜᴇ ʜᴇʟᴅ ʜᴇʀ Hᴀʀʟᴇʏ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪsᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴀʏ ɪɴ Y/N's ʟɪꜰᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ʜᴇʀ ᴛᴏ Sʟᴀᴅᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴊᴏᴋᴇʀ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴅᴏ ʜᴏʀʀɪʙʟᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ɪꜰ ʜᴇ ᴋɴᴇᴡ

Dᴜᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ sʟᴀᴅᴇ ᴡᴀs sᴛɪʟʟ ᴡᴏʀᴋɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ Lᴇᴀɢᴜᴇ Assᴀssɪɴs ʏᴏᴜ ᴏꜰᴛᴇɴ sᴘᴇɴᴅ ᴅᴀʏs ᴡɪᴛʜ Dᴀᴍɪᴇɴ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜɴɢᴇʀ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴇᴛᴀᴋᴇʀs ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛs ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴏɴ ᴍɪssɪᴏɴs ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀɪᴛʏ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʜᴏᴏᴅ ᴛʏᴘɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ʟɪᴋᴇ Bʀᴇᴀᴋꜰᴀsᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ Dᴀᴍɪᴇɴ sᴏᴍᴇᴛɪᴍᴇs ʀᴀ's ɢʜᴏᴜʟ ᴛᴀʟɪᴀ ᴀɴᴅ Sʟᴀᴅᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴊᴏɪɴ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇs ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴏɴᴇ ᴏʀ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴏʀ ɴᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇᴍ

ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ Dᴀᴍɪᴀɴ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴅᴏ sᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏꜰᴛᴇɴ ᴇᴀᴛ ʟᴜɴᴄʜ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴛʀᴀɪɴ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀɪᴛʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇsᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇɴ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs sᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ʜᴏᴍᴇᴡᴏʀᴋ ʀᴇᴘᴇᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ɴᴏʀᴍᴀʟ ʀᴏᴜᴛɪɴᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ɢʀᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ʏᴏᴜʀ Dᴀᴍɪᴇɴ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴀɴʏ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅs ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇɴ'ᴛ ɴᴜʀᴛᴜʀᴇᴅ ᴏʀ ᴄᴀʀᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴇxᴄᴇᴘᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀsʜɪᴏɴ sʜᴏᴡ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴏʀ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴡʜᴇɴ sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴡɪᴛʜ Sᴇʟᴇɴᴀ ᴏʀ ⵊᴠʏ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇɢᴇ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴇɪɢʜᴛ ꜰɪɴɪsʜᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴇᴅɪᴄᴀʟ sᴛᴜᴅɪᴇs ᴀᴛ 14 ᴅᴀᴍɪᴀɴ ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ɢʀᴀᴅᴜᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴄʟᴏsᴇ ᴄʟᴏsᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴊᴜsᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅs sᴏ ʟᴇᴛ's ꜰᴀsᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴜʏs ᴀʀᴇ 13 ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏꜰᴛᴏᴘ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀssᴀssɪɴ ʙᴀss sᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴄᴇɴᴇ ꜰᴀɪʀʏ ʟɪɢʜᴛs ᴄᴀɴᴅʟᴇs ᴍᴜsɪᴄ ᴘɪᴄɴɪᴄ ʙʟᴀɴᴋᴇᴛ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏᴏᴅs ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ꜰɪʀᴇᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏᴛ ᴛᴜʙ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ sɪᴛ ɪɴ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴜʏs ɢᴏᴛ ʙᴏʀᴇᴅ ʟᴇᴛ's ɢᴏ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡɪʟʟ sᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴏʀʏ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ

#damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian al ghul #talia al ghul #league of assassins #batman #redhood #nightwing #robin #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson #bruce wayne #redrobin #dc comics #red robin #damian wayne al ghul #damian al ghul x reader #assassin #dc

[idyllcy]

Can you do a fic of damians x civilian!reader meeting talia for the first time, like damian sitting down and explaining to them whats up with his mom and to be super careful with her! (They already know abt robin but not talia) also I feel like it would be so awkward and intimidating

mother - damian wayne x reader

"So... your mom is part of a league of assassins?" You raise a brow.

"Yes, habibti. The League of Assassins."

"The one that you used to work in as a child."

"Yes."

You nod slowly. "Is she... scary?"

"Stern, as all mothers are." He pauses, reaching for your hand. "But she is not evil. She is my mother."

You nod slowly. "Do you see her often?"

"Less and less these days." He mumbles. "Though, she is visiting because she has heard of you."

"Did you tell her about me?"

"..." Damian looks away. "no."

You blink at him. "Were you scared that she would intimidate me?"

"I was worried she'd toss you four million dollars to leave me."

"Well, that is a convincing sum." You tap your chin, pretending to think over the offer.

"Habibti."

"I was joking." You smile. "You love me. Any mother who cares for their child would know and relent, even if it isn't the best decision. It's just a matter of deciding between what to give up. She's... not one of those... boy moms, is she?"

"No." Damian grimaces. "Definitely not."

"Then it should be fine." You smile, squeezing his hand. "I promise."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." You smile.

#*insert image of me staring in horror at my own writing getting repetitive as my eye twitches* #damian wayne x reader #damian x reader #damian al ghul x reader #damian wayne imagine #damian al ghul imagine

[orionremastered]

Damian Wayne x Paramedic!Reader

Soulmate AU

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

CW: Poisoning, respiratory failure (just another Tuesday in Gotham)

When you were born, your parents were eager to see the first words of your soulmate written on your left forearm. You were woken from your sleep, wrapped in a soft blanket, when your mother gently took out your arm from the fluffy fabric.

Yet when she saw the words- no, word, singular- she paled. Your father leaned over and froze to a statue. Written on your wrist was;

Poison.

Yet your family's reaction wasn't even comparable to the confusion felt by the Al Ghul's in Nanda Parbat. When Talia read the words on her son's forearm, she could feel her heart stop for a moment.

You need to breathe.

The first words that the soulmate of Damian- the next Demon Head, next leader of the League of Assassins and the most intimidating and highly-trained man on Earth- would ever say to him shook Talia and Ra's to their core.

And once Damian was old enough to know what it meant, it shook him too.

Twenty Two Years Later...

The day started out as normal; you say hello to Harper, your partner in your ambulance unit, handing him a coffee before getting into the ambulance for a long twelve hour day shift, the day after Halloween.

"I don't want to be here," Harper says immediately.

"Neither," you reply before you pull out of the station and out into the street.

Not two seconds later, a beep sounds and Harper reads from the computer beside him; "Twenty-two year old male has collapsed and is struggling to breathe. Wayne Tower building on the top floor- that elevator better be in service or you're crashing this ambulance into a brick wall."

You snort, flicking on lights and sirens due to the nature of the incident and speed off towards the tower. You don't even need directions; the building looms over the entire city like a god and is a beacon of wealth- something two underpaid paramedics definitely do not have.

Arriving on scene and parking the ambulance hastily so that the back doors opened right next to the entrance, the two of you pull out the stretcher and rush into the building, many thoughts filling your mind as you reach the elevator- luckily in service- and hit the button for the top floor.

What could it be? Countless nights spent studying rather than sleeping fill your head as you sort through knowledge.

The elevator seemed to take forever, and maybe it did- this tower is extremely tall after all. You and Harper exchange glances just before the doors open.

Moving swiftly to the meeting room, full of businessmen in suits, your gazes are immediately drawn to the man on the floor.

Damian Wayne. Probably one of the few people who never needs to introduce himself.

He's not just struggling to breathe; you reckon he's paralyzed, too. Something sours in your gut as you crouch behind his head, Harper at his feet.

The Wayne's eyes lock onto yours as he takes in a raspy breath. "Poison," he chokes out. The words don't register just yet as the two of you lift him up from the floor and onto the stretcher.

"You need to breathe," you chide, and swear his eyes widen the slightest fraction. Harper straps him to the stretcher before giving you a nod. The only other person more famous than Damian follows you when you and Harper walk out with the stretcher. Bruce Wayne.

The elevator ride seems even slower going down. Bruce grips the side of the stretcher, knuckles white as Damian fights for each breath he wishes to take. But every second or so, Bruce's gaze flicks to you and makes you prickle with unease. Soon you realise Harper is doing the same thing.

Why- It hits you like a semi truck hitting a motorcyclist without a helmet on a highway. Damian Wayne's first word to you was 'poison', the same as it is written on your forearm.

The elevator dings and the door slides open. When you finally get him into the ambulance, Harper tosses you the keys without a word and settles beside the stretcher in the back, Bruce beside him.

You'll thank Harper later; right now, you need to get your soulmate to hospital.

"You should go check on him," Harper says at the end of your shift after handing the keys to the next crew. The two of you walk to the parking lot, tired and still processing the things you've seen. "Like, now. You've been angsty all shift."

"How can I not be?" you sigh. "Yeah, I guess I will, then. See you in two days."

Getting in your car, you pull out the parking lot and out into Gotham. The sky's getting dark- or darker- and the traffic is thinning. No one wants to be out at night, especially first responders. Yet instead of going straight home like normal, you drive to Gotham General Hospital.

The lady at the front desk frowns slightly when you ask for Damian Wayne. It's understandable; you're practically a nobody yet you're one of the most important people in the city.

"You are not immediate family or friends," the nurse says after a long back and forth. You bit your lip to stop yourself from saying anything you'll regret, but then again, she's a nurse. Nurses and paramedics don't get along.

"She's allowed," a low voice says from the hallway. Bruce Wayne, now changed into more comfortable clothing, looks almost as tired as you. Almost. He beckons for you to follow, leaving the nurse at the front desk flustered.

Damian's ward is private and more... luxury, if that's even a word used in the sense of hospitals. He's still asleep, and you find yourself checking his vitals with a glance. Not too bad, all things considered. He's definitely breathing better.

A weight lifts from you chest as you take a seat beside his bed. Bruce sits beside you in almost a casual way, yet you couldn't be further apart.

"What was it?" you say after a long moment of silence.

"Pardon?"

"The poison. He said it was poison."

"... right. It was curare," Bruce responds, rubbing his eyes. "Someone poisoned him with curare."

The only question left to answer now was who.

~~~

Masterlist

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #batfam #batfamily #bruce wayne #batman #x reader

[froggyfics]

The Deadliest Poisons Are The Sweetest - 6

Conflict arises within the Al Ghul household.

18+ only! I do not consent for this content to be viewed by minors. Please take heed of the warnings listed, though they are not entirely comprehensive. Do not continue reading if you are uncomfortable with the content. This story and its contents are 100% fictional, and are not affiliated with DC Comics.

Sincerely appreciate you guys for leaving comments and messages about my writing! Your interactions definitely push me to complete my work. Thank you for your patience.

Feedback is always appreciated. Feel free to message me privately or comment below to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome!

Pairing: LOA!medieval!Damian Wayne x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,780

Warnings: misogyny?, smut, p in v penetration, oral sex

The Wayne Manor, in all its glory, is quite ordinary. 

Yes, it is perhaps the most magnificent building in all of Gotham – but if you look closely enough, there are little quirks that can only be seen in homes that have been lived in. 

Little chips on the doorframe showed its perpetual use. The floorboards creaked due to constant footsteps. The stained windows were discolored to divulge their age.

The manor gave off a completely different aura when compared to the Al Ghul Castle. The castle was built primarily for defense purposes and was not meant to be lived in. Its bloody history was obvious with its moat, drawbridges, and arrow slits.

Maybe that’s why you instantly felt more at ease at the manor. This was a home. It had no nefarious purpose. Even if the castle was purged of its malignant occupants (namely Talia), it could not erase its bloody history. 

With that being said, you could not say that you were completely comfortable at the manor. 

“How can I make you feel more at home?” Alfred inquires.

You’re not entirely sure how to answer his question. Maybe he could send word for your family to come to the manor instead of staying at the castle. 

You push the idea to the back of your mind almost immediately after thinking it. Your family hasn’t really been acting like your kin since you’ve arrived in the capital. They’re simply too busy schmoozing to notice your plight. After all, you are their ticket to the upper echelon. Damian had you leave the castle so hurriedly that you did not even have the chance to seek them out to say farewell. You doubt they’d care about your absence anyways.

“Where’s Damian?” 

“He’s still speaking with his father. I can have him come to your room as soon as he finishes his discussion.”

“Yes, that would be wonderful.”

Alfred bows before exiting the room. “Your highness.”

You let out a melancholic sigh while plopping on your bed. The absolute silence that surrounds you deafens your ears. The peacefulness reminds you that this is the first time in a long time that you had to yourself. 

Your ladies-in-waiting are out familiarizing themselves with the manor. Rachel returned to her own home, promising to follow you to manor after she packed her own belongings. Alice, your personal servant, is acquainting herself with the servants’ quarters. 

Talia is not breathing down your neck. Your mother is no longer nit-picking at your appearance. Your father is not here to remind you of your dimwittedness. Your older brother is not hounding you to convince your in-laws to give him a council seat. 

It's just you. After so much time surrounded by others, wishing for some alone time, you’re suddenly dumbfounded. How were you able to entertain yourself before him – before Damian?

The embroidery hoop sits longingly in your open chest. Your needlework was in sore need of improvement you realized after moving to Gotham. After all, the noblewoman here had no household chores to take up their time, thereby leaving them experts at embroidery. 

You sit down on a sturdy wooden chair. It’s easy for you to distract yourself in the work that you’re doing. All that there is to distract you are the crackling of the candles and the occasional prick of the needle. 

You nearly fall out of the chair in terror when the door opens suddenly. Your ladies-in-waiting come barging in, talking amongst themselves merrily until they notice you. Their faces sour. 

“C’mere, your highness,” Matilda sneers. “Time for bed.”

A sigh escapes your lips before you can control it. Surely, you cannot be treated this way! After all, you’re a princess now!

Alas, you scurry to Matilda and turn your back towards her. Of course, you can wish for a spine all you’d like, but you’d never stand up to her. Or to Honora. Or Joan. Or Talia. You’re…you. A princess, but you were born among the lowest of aristocrats. Just a generation prior, your family were peasants! Matilda, Joan, and Honora all came from distinguished dynasties that far surpassed your own. 

“Ouch!” You tried with all your might to keep quiet while Matilda yanks you about, but when her nails scratch against your back, you can’t help but let out a screech.

“Oh, hush now!”

“You’re – hurting me.”

Matilda remains quiet and you step out of your dress after it pools at your feet. The fireplace keeps the room warm, but the hostility in the air increases the temperature. She tugs the nightgown over your head rudely. 

“I suppose I’ll stay the night with the princess.” Honora points to the feather mattress near the bed. 

Matilda and Joan nod their heads and curtsy towards you.

“Now, is there anything else you’d like for us to do before we retire for the night, your highness?” Joan’s voice is sickly sweet, but at this point, you know her words are laced with venom.

“No, thank you. You are dismissed. Have a nice night.”

They snicker in each other’s ears and walk towards the door, while Honora looks longingly at them. Joan opens the bedroom door and gasps at the sight. 

“Your highness!”

Damian leisurely strides into the room with his hands behind his back like a soldier. The occupants of the room immediately bow in respect, including you. 

So much time had passed from when you told Alfred to call for Damian, that you didn’t think he’d actually come to see you. But here he was! In your room. You didn’t even know what you wanted to say to him. You didn’t remember why you asked Alfred to send Damian to you in the first place.

He clears his throat and looks around the room. His gaze lands on your discarded embroidery hoop atop your dresser. He picks it up to examine the half-finished red carnation on the fabric. Your entire body heats up in embarrassment. In your lonely haze, you barely recalled poking the red and green thread through the linen fabric. It meant nothing. Damian catches your gaze, and you hope to communicate silently that it meant nothing to you. Boredom took over and flowers were a common item to embroider. It meant nothing. You weren’t thinking about him then, and you certainly didn’t care that he was standing in front of you now. 

“You lot are dismissed for now.”

The ladies scamper out of the room immediately as Damian’s command leaves his lips. No back talk. No snide comment. If only they respected you half as much as they respected him, your day-to-day life would become so much smoother.

“Alfred mentioned that you called upon me.”

Your eye twitches. “Only to say goodnight.” You stare at him until it becomes uncomfortable. “So, goodnight.”

You turn around to get under the warmth of your covers. You pull the coverlet and bedsheet out as calmly as you can, even though a combination of anger and embarrassment courses through you. 

You want to lie back down fully, but Damian remains standing in place. 

“Can you please call my lady-in-waiting in here?”

“No.”

“No?” you scoff. “Why not?”

“We’re having a conversation, that’s why.”

“No, we’re not,” you huff. “I have had quite a tumultuous day. If you’ll excuse me, I will retire for the night.”

“You are angry with me.”

You scowl, but say nothing in return. You are angry. In fact, you are irate. Your marriage has just begun, and you already want to escape. 

“I’ve spoken with my father,” Damian interrupts the silence. “We will be staying here, at Wayne Manor. The castle is not the place for us.”

He exhales loudly when you do not respond. You are looking down at your coverlet, but can sense his movements closing in on you. He tediously sits on the farthest possible corner of the bed.

You shake your head in disbelief and face him with a glare on your face. “I do not bite, your highness, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

His smile momentarily catches you off-guard, but his chuckles reignite your anger. “You look like you will,” he responds once he notices your fury. His attempt at easing the tension does not work.

“I truly apologize for what my mother said to you. It was not…appropriate to say the least. Here at the manor, I can assure you that no one will question our marital bed like she did.”

“Tell that to my ladies-in-waiting. You do know that they are your mother’s spies, right? They’ll report everything to her.”

He shrugs. “I have been known to keep a loyal household.” He winks at you. “I have my ways.”

You simply can’t stand it. He’s being so…friendly. It irks you.

“Thank you, your highness. T’is late. I will not keep you up.” 

Your attempt to dismiss Damian is ignored. He tuts and closes the distance between you two. His new position is right at your side. His thigh touches your own, with just sheets of fabric separating the two of you.

“You’re angry with me,” he repeats.

“What’s it to you?” You do your best to keep your voice steady. “It’s not like you care.”

“Of course, I do. Of course, I care.”

A humorless laugh escapes your throat. “I’m not stupid. I have not grown up with your fancy tutors or privileged background, but I’m not stupid.”

“I never said you were stu –”

“You don’t have to say it for me to know that you and everyone else think it!” you nearly shout. “Your highness –”

“We’ve been over this.” He rubs his forehead. “You are my wife. Refer to me as husband or Damian –”

“I am not your wife!” It’s unintentional, but some of your spit lands on his face. You fight to get the covers off of you, jumping out of bed. You can only stomp a few steps away from Damian before his arm grabs your bicep.

You’re pulled back towards him and he swivels you around to face him once again.

“I am not your wife!” you repeat.

“What are you going on about, woman?” His own anger is evident due to the bulging vein on his neck. “Have you hit your head and lost your memory already?”

You speak through gritted teeth. “Your highness, I am not sure why you have roped me into your lies, but clearly there is another motive behind our so-called marriage.” You rip yourself from his hands, and point at him menacingly. “I don’t think I care to know why you have lied to me, but just know I’m onto you. You cannot deceive me. I know that we are in a sham marriage.”

Damian’s eyes nearly transform to coal black, the green is no longer visible. You slowly drop your accusatory finger, mentally kicking yourself for your tantrum. His disposition is quite fearsome, you realize. You were admittedly terrified of Prince Damian, who comes from a long line of terrifying and tyrannical ancestors. 

“Careful there, woman,” he taunts. “You are speaking to your prince.”

“I thought you were just my husband,” you sneer before you realize what you said. You clamp your mouth shut.

His eyes narrow dangerously. “Same difference. Do you need reminding?”

Well, now you’ve done it. You were going to be beheaded come sunrise, weren’t you? Why couldn’t you have just shut up? Why did you have to believe the lies he said in the garden? Who cares, he’s a man – they all lie. What difference does it make that your man joins in the age-old tradition of lying?

Damian waits expectantly for some sort of response from you, while your mind races. 

“No…husband.”

Damian smiles, but you can tell it’s the coldblooded kind. He takes one step, then another, and then one more until he’s toe-to-toe with you. 

You look up meekly at your prince. He towers over you and it dawns on you just how precarious your situation is. It has been just a day since you’ve married. The marriage could easily be annulled, especially at Damian’s behest. You are replaceable. There are countless others you would kill to be the heir’s wife.

And who could replace Damian? Quite literally, no one. Your family would forever be disgraced. No one would want to interact with the family of the heir’s former wife. It would be an embarrassment. Not to mention, you would forever be the laughingstock of the kingdom. The day-old princess. 

He cups your face, and his thumbs brush your hot cheeks. His other fingers grip the back of your neck, nearly painfully so. “Well, I think you do.”

Your breath hitches in the back of your throat when he plants his lips on your forehead. They travel to your nose before one hand shifts the collar of your nightgown.

“Admittedly, t’is my fault.” He suckles the tender skin at the base of your neck. “I have not truly turned you into a wife yet.” The implications of his words make you shiver, along with the wet kisses he leaves up and down your neck. His actions leave you in shock. This was not the way you expected to be…punished? Reprimanded? You’re not sure what exactly Damian is planning.

He kisses the pulsing point in your neck and the sensitivity nearly makes your moan. You bite your lip in retaliation, but of course, he notices it. 

You want to retort, but his thumb rubs against your nipple. You breathe out heavily as he continues his ministrations, your fiery attitude withers away as your nipple hardens under his touch. 

His hands slowly make their way to your hips and he grabs them firmly to guide you in the direction of the bed. 

You yelp when he pushes you onto the bed roughly, nearly landing completely on your back, but you catch yourself by your arms. You watch in utter curiosity as Damian rolls your nightgown over your knees, exposing you the warm chill of the room. He bites his lip lewdly and sinks to his knees.

You yelp again when he pulls you closer to the edge by the ankles. 

“You can watch if you want.” He gives you wet kisses from your ankle till your inner thigh. When he reaches your thigh, you attempt to close your legs around his head. It’s simply too sensitive. 

He pushes your knees apart and begins the cycle again on the other leg. This time, when he reaches your inner thigh, he takes hold of your legs and spreads them as far apart as he can. 

You squirm and squirm as he continues kissing your inner thighs.

“Damian,” you whimper.

“The lioness suddenly cannot seem to roar, only mewl,” he teases.

You can feel his hot breath on your innermost parts. The intimacy of the situation makes you grip the bed, but once he latches onto you, your hands cramp in the air.

“Oh! Ooh! Oh.” You moan loudly while he deliciously eats you out. His tongue sloppily latches onto your sensitive nub, but he occasionally leaves you long, languid licks on the entire region.

His hand snakes up your body, shirking your nightgown up until it’s over your shirt. He tweaks your nipples, and you can feel your abdomen tightening in response. 

You can feel the cooling wetness when Damian finally releases his hold on your clitoris. You want to mourn the absence of his tongue, but the mourning period ends as quickly as it began when he starts to rub his thumb in firm, circular motions.

There are so many sensations happening simultaneously. His thumb on your clit. His rough shirt agitating your nipples. Wet kisses on your neck. His fingers occasionally swiping the wetness leaking from your hole and spreading it around. You couldn’t stop the tide even if you wanted to.

The only thing to hold onto is his biceps. It starts in small waves. A strange feeling arises in you, but you don’t want it to stop. It roils in faster and faster peaks. You bite your lip in anticipation. When it finally arrives, a sound escapes your throat that has never come out before. Your muscles contract as you reach your peak. 

Damian’s lips leave your neck to latch onto your mouth. You moan into his mouth as the feeling rides itself out. It’s so overwhelming that all modesty flies out the window. You don’t care how loud you are. You don’t care how you must look. All that surrounds you is the pleasure that Damian extracted from you. 

The kiss you share is unlike the one from the day before at your wedding. Your wedding kiss was short and sour. This one is long and sensual. 

You don’t want the kiss to end, but Damian takes the initiative to pull back. He maintains eye contact with you while he removes his tunic and pants. You obscenely take in the sight of his defined abs and strong muscles, but you stop once your eyes meet his hardened member.

You jump slightly when he suddenly spits on it. His hand moves up and down to spread his saliva around. The sight is so lewd that you turn your head to avoid it.

“Don’t get all shy on me now, beloved.”

His words force you to look once more at him. His pushes your shoulders down to where you lay flat on the bed. You crane your neck to at least look at what he’s doing. He holds your neck up with his hand to give you a better view once he realizes what you’re trying to do. 

He pokes at your entrance. “Beloved, breathe for me.”

You have no choice but to follow the instructions of the man that just had his face in between your thighs moments ago. You inhale, then exhale, and repeat the process.

The pain halts your breath. You hiss as the head of his penis is thrust into you. He shallowly inserts the tip in and out, and leans down to pepper your face with light kisses. Slowly but surely, your hiss turns into a whimper. In response, he thrusts deeper and deeper. He whispers tenderly into your ear.

“You feel amazing, my love.”

“This is what I should have done last night.”

“I am all yours.”

You don’t even realize you’ve shed a tear until he swipes it away. The gentleness of the moment wipes away the last month from your memory. All that exists is here and now.

It hurts, but there’s an equal amount of pleasure licking behind the pain. Damian’s ever-increasing groans only add to your own desire. He impales you with every thrust, but he does so as slowly as possible. You can tell he could be rougher if he wanted, as evident by his muscular figure. 

He leans his forehead onto your own, and closes his eyes. You keep yours open to watch him pant. There’s a glow on his skin that highlights every handsome feature about him. 

His breathing becomes erratic and so do his thrusts. His grunts are nearly animalistic until finally he groans loudly in delight. You can feel a gush of wetness around your entrance as he lazily thrusts himself in and out of you. He stills himself inside of you at last before practically crushing you under his weight.

You can hardly breathe under the pressure and feebly push upwards against his chest with your hands that are trapped under him. He pulls out of you completely and rolls over to your side, still panting heavily. 

He shifts you onto your side to face him and pecks your entire face with light kisses. You giggle at his show of affection, wishing that he would never stop. 

But he does. Everything good must come to an end. With one final peck on your lips, he rubs his hands up and down your back before getting up from the bed. The warmth of his body escapes you and you find yourself quite cold suddenly. The fireplace still burns brightly, but Damian’s touch provided a fiery heat that could not be replicated through any other means. 

Once he’s finally dressed, he leans down to give you a passionate kiss. You return the affection to the best of your naïve ability. 

“Our marriage is now officially sealed. Do you feel like our union is a sham still?”

You squirm in embarrassment. You recall the argument that preceded your intimate counter, but shame overcomes you at the way you behaved. 

You nod your head in response. “I apologize, Damian. This past month has just been a whirlwind for me.”

He gazes at you while tying his pants tight. “I understand.” He reaches down and kisses your knuckles, like he did when you first arrived in Gotham. “Goodnight, beloved.”

He strides towards the exit. “Damian, will we spend any time together tomorrow? I’d love a tour of the manor with you as my guide.”

“I don’t think that is possible. I’ll be very busy.” He attempts to walk away, but is stopped by your questioning again.  

“Can we at least have dinner together?” He doesn’t turn to face you entirely, but he does tilt his head in your direction. 

“Would that make you happy?” he finally says.

“Yes,” you immediately answer. You wanted what just happened to continue to happen. Not necessarily the sex, although that was a definitive plus, but the closeness. 

You felt so much closer to Damian within just a night of emotional intimacy that your negative memories of him from the past month shift towards the back of your head. Every kiss he gave you tonight replaced every snide comment made in your direction, the loneliness you felt, and the confusion regarding your relationship status.

“Then, we shall have dinner.” With that, he leaves the room, leaving you bare on the bed. 

His absence makes the pain and soreness in your abdomen and genitals evident. You clutch your belly in an attempt to soothe the cramps away.

Your door bursts open. You scramble to cover yourself with something, with anything, but it’s too late.

Honora glares at you as she makes her way towards the bed. The best you can do in your fumbled state is cover yourself with your arms and make yourself as small as possible. 

She looks you over, and then at the red and transparent stains on the coverlet. 

“Get off the bed,” she snaps. She exits the room and returns a few moments later with two servant girls.

“Hurry up,” she barks at the servants as they scurry to change to the sheets. “I’d like to get some sleep before the sun rises.”

#dc comics #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x fem!reader #damian wayne x y/n #league of assassins #loa!damian wayne #damian wayne #damian wayne smut #medieval!Damian Wayne

[your-regular-toast-enjoyer]

I request a fanfic with the Batfam and maybe with powers like Kitty pryde ( you said X-Men were ok) that can phase through any matter with anything that she touches . I imagine some kinda scenario like your other headcannon with Damian were the league gets children for their army or something and she end up escaping to Gotham city and not knowing what to do she steals cuz like she can phase through anything and she meets Catwoman and she is impressed and then she meets the bats when she keeps theiving .I imagine her older that Damian but younger that Tim

Damian Wayne x thief reader with Kitty Pryde powers.

Damian Wayne x reader or Damian Wayne/reader

Word count: 4181 words

A/N: Yes, you can just ignore this, it's mostly for the anon who sent in the request. Anyways... Thank you so much for sending in a request, this was really fun to write, especially since I got to drag in lesser-known parts of Batman lore relating to the Gotham slums! Also, I adore Kitty Pryde! She was my favourite character from X-men growing up! I even have two of her quotes taped on my door, so... yeah, thank you for sending in the request! I hope you like what I did...I tried to incorporate everything you mentioned!

TW: GN reader, Damian might be a TW himself. A little angst I guess... Not really, kinda fluffy honestly. Mentions of kidnapping, nothing super bad I'd say, but we are talking League of Assassins here, so... You know, regular TWs apply.

Okay, so, perhaps Ra’s decided to assemble a team of meta-humans, kind of like in Teen Titans vol. 1: Damian knows best. He would have had assassins stationed out throughout the entire world, just to sniff out young and impressionable meta-humans. Ra’s will have them taken from their family in the dead of night, and if their families wake up and resist… Well, the good news is that there will no longer be anyone to attempt to find the kid. 

I can imagine that Ra’s would see it as a great asset to the League of Assassins to have a small yet specialised team of super-powered assassins. A kind of trump card that he saves for the most resilient of foes that simply refuse to bow down to his might.

You were one of these kids. A young child who had been caught multiple times phasing through walls within your home. Your parent(s) had worried for your safety. Meta-humans aren’t easily accepted everywhere, certain groups have been known to track them down and kill them in horrible fashions. So, to keep you safe, one of your parents decided to stay home and tutor you.

This only worked to secure your safety for so long. The night after you turned seven, you were sedated and kidnapped by two strangers dressed in all black. Your family had woken up, and while you were passed out, the two dark-clad strangers killed them all in the most gruesome manner imaginable.

When you re-awoke, you were laying on a dark brown linen hammock, the material was coarse and scratched your bare arms. You had been dressed in something entirely different from the pyjamas you had previously been wearing. It was a black uniform of some sort, just like the strangers from the night before had been wearing, the only difference being that you had been spared from wearing a mask in your sleep. This would be the type of uniform you would end up wearing for years to come.

After a while of laying completely still in the hammock, you had been taken out of the room and forced in front of Ra’s and Talia along with five or six other meta-powered kids. You had been informed of your purpose and when one of your fellow metas, the oldest of you, had tried to escape, he was decapitated by Talia. That was enough to scare the rest of you into line.

Your little group would be trained by either Ra’s, Talia or both. You would train alongside Damian and the other metas. But something about you had stuck out to Damian, maybe your ability to pass through all solid objects had intrigued the young boy beyond measure. After all, it made you practically invincible in a fight as you’d simply engage your power whenever a fist flew towards you.

I can see you and Damian sneaking off after training to play around with your power, or Damian making you enter the kitchen to get a bowl of Kdaameh for each of you. He’d use his authority as the grandson of the Demon’s Head to get the two of you out of trouble and you’d use your ability to facilitate said trouble. Only when he asked you nicely though, you were horrified of both his mother and grandfather, it was only the reassurance of his protection that calmed you down enough to join his occasional hijinks.

I believe that since you’re able to simply pass through solid objects, Talia would make you Damian’s training partner just so he could practice his katana skills on a living target. Damian would be careful not to accidentally swing at you when you weren’t prepared, he didn’t want to hurt you, (which is a pretty spectacular effort for him, since he usually didn’t care who he hurt, as long as he enhanced his fighting skills). 

I can see him one day admitting that you’re his only real friend, that he doesn’t know how he would keep his head above water without you, and you realise that you share his sentiment. You never really got along with your fellow meta-companions. Maybe you’re on regular speaking terms with one or two and that’s it. Nothing like what you have with Damian. 

The two of you remained friends up until the League is attacked and Damian is forced to go to Gotham with his father.

After Damian’s departure, everything changed for you. You had always appreciated your powers when you were younger, since they had enabled so many fond memories, particularly with Damian. But with your only real friend gone, they became the curse that had you locked in a routine of neverending training, missions and academic studying. It became a dull yet dangerous existence. The other metas didn’t seem to share the same feelings as you, or at least so you assumed from the way they never seemed to doubt any of Talia’s commands. Perhaps it was because they hadn’t had a taste of anything else since they were kidnapped. If you don’t know what you’re missing out on, how can you long for it?

Your discontentment with staying in the league reached a turning point when you were twenty. The reason was no longer the yearning you felt for your first and only real friend within 'Eth Alth'eban’s walls, but that had certainly been the spark that lit the candle for your growing rebellion.

You and the rest of your meta-human peers had been sent to Gotham for a mission. You were supposed to locate and bring the Red Hood to Talia Al Ghul, alive. Although, as long as he still held a pulse, there was no limit to the means employed. If he was thrown at Talia’s feet come morning, he could be missing both his arms and legs for all anyone cared. The league had the means to mend such injuries.

You had been keeping to the back of your group. Your leader, a girl a few years your senior with the power of laser eyes, guiding you through the dark and crime-filled city of Gotham. Everyone was looking at her and no eyes were aimed at you. Perfect conditions for a silent escape.

You had all climbed on top of one of the many half-abandoned apartment complexes within Crime alley, the area where you had all discerned Red Hood would be found. Looking at your group, you made sure that none of them had eyes on you. They didn’t. Still, it was too risky to do anything now. If they saw you escape from the league, you would be viewed as a traitor and there was no room for those in Ra’s and Talia’s eyes. If you were caught, you would be dealt with swiftly. By “dealt with”, I, of course, mean killed right where you stood. No meta-powers would save you from the Al Ghuls’ wrath, you would only be able to evade them for so long. 

That’s why you made a plan to use the fight that would no doubt ensue once you found Jason. 

As the predictable fight began, you were impressed with how well the elusive Red Hood held up, considering his lack of meta abilities. “He’s truly worthy of the reverence that Talia gives him”, you briefly thought as you evade one of his bullets by letting it pass right through you. 

Alas, even the greatest fighter would eventually lose to a well-trained group of metas intent on seeing their opponent fall. You considered your options for a split-second, before deciding that you might as well help the masked anti-hero escape the situation too.

You bent down towards your split-toe boots, fishing up what you had brought from 'Eth Alth'eban. A box of matches. Now, that might seem like nothing, but you realised that it’d be more than enough, considering your surroundings; An old and decrepit warehouse, with its windows boarded up with large planks and wooden boxes littering the place.

Your group had surrounded Jason, trying to get him to lay still enough for them to tie ropes around his wrists and ankles. You quickly flicked your wrist behind your back, and slowly a slight flame emerged from the top of the short wooden stick. You tossed it towards a crate, unaware of what the box might’ve held. Whatever it was, though, it caught on fire fast.

It distracted your group, and in a brief selfish moment, that might well have cost them their lives down the line, they fled the scene with neither you nor Jason alongside them. You briefly smirked, you know that Talia would hold you up as the hero in this scenario. “The one who stayed back to complete the mission, despite it burning them alive”.  How ironic. You chuckled to yourself.

The Red Hood stood up immediately, desperately attempting to put out the fire, but was stopped in his tracks at the feeling of a hand grasping his biceps. Your hand.

“Come on”, was all you uttered to him, before dragging him towards the only wall left not yet engulfed in flames, which was coincidentally the one furthest away from the exit. Jason became agitated, were you trying to get both of you killed? He wouldn’t be surprised if you were, that seemed like something a league assassin would do.

But when you started to run directly towards the brick wall of the warehouse, Jason changed his tune. No, you were not just a regular assassin, you were delusionally crazy. Why were you dragging him towards a solid wall, and why did he let you? Instinct is why. Something in him told him to trust you.

Well, he was right. The moment you both came into contact with the wall, you both went right through, as if it hadn’t even been there.

Jason was impressed, he took you to his safehouse in crime alley, his favourite. It used to be his home with his mother before Bruce took him in. 

You didn’t say much, you had been trained not to, ever since you were kidnapped as a child. Jason did most of the speaking, as he stood in the kitchen and cooked a strange-smelling pasta dish. It looked burnt. “Who’s able to burn spaghetti?” You pondered to yourself with a confused frown. Maybe you shouldn’t have saved him. Perhaps, if he had burned to death, it would have been natural selection, ridding the world of possibly the worst cook to have ever been near a stove. 

When Jason smacked down two bowls of burnt pasta with marinara sauce from a can, you make eye contact with him. His eyes were an impressive shade of turquoise, their colour reminded you of Damian’s deep green eyes, and being the closest to your childhood friend you had been in years made a pang go through your heart.

“So? You defected, huh?” Jason pushed, he needed information to help you, but you made it hard as you simply gave him a cautious nod.

Digging into his food, slurping more than a little bit, Jason leant back. “You can stay here for a while. If you want?” You didn’t. You had learnt from the league that you should never accept anyone’s help unless you knew what you were giving in exchange. No one just helps others out of the good of their heart, people always want something in exchange. Even Batman. According to Ra’s, Batman had been seeking validation since he was a child. He claimed this in one of his many long-winded speeches that you were always a second away from dozing off during.

Jason was worried for your safety as you departed from his safehouse that night. You still carried your weapons, and your meta-ability made you feel safe, but it didn't ease his worries much.

You had removed your mask at Jason’s place, so your face was now free.  While most people in the Gotham slums wouldn’t look twice at someone carrying multiple knives in holsters around their torso, there’d be no hiding from the watchful eyes of the Al Ghuls if you kept wearing the uniform they gave you.

Looking around, you discerned the closest clothing store. Running up to it, you inspected their security system. It was only the windows and locks that had an alarm attached. “Amateurs”, you whispered to yourself, before passing through the front window undetected. 

You picked up whatever you needed, a few jackets, a handful of sweatshirts, and a couple of denim trousers. Whatever clothes you believed would make you blend in with the regular inhabitants of the Gotham slums. Once you had gotten all you needed, you left the same way you arrived, neglecting the slight detail of paying. Well, it wasn’t like you had any money either way.

Sleeping in the blind alleys between buildings and making friends with multiple of the kids from the Alleytown Strays, you got by. Only after you escaped from The League of Assassins did you start to finally feel free again. 

You got your food, blankets and everything else you needed by running into stores at night, grabbing what you thought you might like and leaving through the wall again. You repeated this process for months until something in you began telling you that you could do more, that petty thievery was too low for someone with your skill set. You sat your sights on larger hauls.

You got set up with Mama Fortuna by the kids you had befriended. She taught you everything one would need to become a better thief, as ridiculous as that might have sounded. She took you into her frail old arms and patiently taught you everything from the subtle art of pickpocketing to how to plan a heist. 

You started testing your skills out and you were a natural. Diamond necklaces, hundred dollar bills and priceless art pieces, all fell right into your pockets as you went from one building to the next. 

It was through Mama Fortuna that you meet Selina Kyle. In her formative years, the woman now known as Catwoman had trained under the leader of the Alleytown Strays. It was this ancient tutor of the intricate art of thievery that had helped the infamous Gotham city burglar start her career.

Selina was not only impressed by your thieving skills, but she also pitied you as you explain your situation. The cat lover was more than aware of Talia’s brutality. The Al Ghul woman had on multiple occasions attempted to kill off Selina for her relationship with Bruce. “Jealous bitch”, Selina had named her. A nickname which made you laugh for the first time in years. 

Mama Fortuna had proposed a partnership between you and Catwoman, suggesting that you joined Selina as her sidekick. You had at first been sceptical, you preferred to work alone, but relented when seeing how excited the old woman became at the prospect of how much loot the two of you could rake in if you worked in tandem. Mama Fortuna knew that she wouldn’t see a cent of the profits, but she didn’t care, she was in the business because she loved the game, not the gain.

Selina hadn’t been opposed to the idea either, but she would only offer her partnership on two conditions. Firstly, all loot was split 50/50. You readily agreed to this. The possession of stolen goods was a metric you could easily work with, and the idea of an obvious exchange made you more comfortable working together with her. The second condition had you confused, however. “You gotta meet Batsy-”, Selina had smirked, “-I want to show him that I’ve gotten my own sidekick now. He has always had the Robins, now, I have you. Isn’t that exciting?” It took you a while to agree to the latter condition. You had always heard Ra’s and Talia speak so impressively about the dark knight, the idea of him disturbed you. Still, you couldn’t deny that you felt a certain loneliness ever since Damian departed from your side, and Selina’s pleasant company helped fill some of the void left behind. You reluctantly agreed to her conditions. That was how you started working at Catwoman’s side. 

You were set to meet the Gotham knight on your first night out with Catwoman. Since you didn’t have a designated costume like Selina, you had put on your old league uniform, except the mask, you didn’t want to be confused for one of Ra’s workers anymore. Selina had chuckled at your almost childlike refusal when she had asked you to put on the full league disguise. Still, she understood your reasoning, and after having rummaged through her entire closet for what seemed like eternities, she had come back with an old domino mask. “It used to be Robin’s, but he forgot it here once and never came back after it. So, now it’s yours.”

You had accepted the mask gratefully. It fit you well enough and you decided that you actually kind of liked how it made you look more professional. 

As you went off with Selina, you first broke into some art gallery. Combined, you managed to steal away with an entire exhibition of small golden pots and pans made in the 1700s. They rattled loudly in the sack Selina had brought to carry your loot. 

It didn’t take long for you and Selina to be confronted by Batman and Robin on the rooftop of one of the many Gotham highrises. Both of them were visibly surprised by the fact they hadn’t caught the two of you in the act. “How did you get all of that without setting off any of the alarms?!” Robin had asked incredulously. Your heart stopped for a moment, and blood rushed to your ears. You recognised the voice as soon as you heard it. Damian. He was older now. Eighteen, you calculated in your head. He was two years younger than you, something you had always teased him for as kids. 

You could barely recognise him as you gazed at him, though. He looked different. Gotham had done terrible things to his complexion, as it did with everyone else’s. He was still remarkably tan, but the rich goldenness which had usually clung to his skin back in  'Eth Alth'eban was but a light shimmer now. The dark Gotham sky slowly drained the colour out of everyone and everything, as it blocked out any light the sun might've provided, and you had never cursed this ability as much as you did now. Still, you couldn't help but notice that he was built nicely. A little lanky but with obvious muscle tone under his tight suit. You did not envy him his choice of attire, you much preferred the bagginess of the League uniform. Still, you couldn’t deny that he had grown to be fairly good-looking… Very good-looking.

Bruce wasn't focused on the sack full of stolen goods laying on the ground, like Damian was. No. His eyes were on you. He knew the uniform you wore, but he had never seen one of the league ninjas take off their masks. He knew it was against one of their near-infinite rules. You wearing one of Damian’s old domino masks confused him greatly as well. What was Selina playing at? “I thought you and Talia couldn’t stand each other?” Bruce had interrogated, gesturing to you. Selina laughed loudly, walking behind you and folding her arms tightly around your shoulders.  “Oh, we can’t! That’s why I gladly took one of her escapees.” 

Damian’s eyes finally landed on you. “Escapees? That’s impossible the league kills anyone who flees.” 

Selina had looked at him with a mocking glint in her eye, “Not if they can’t catch her”. Selina’s arms tightened to the point of almost crushing your ribcage and on instinct, you activated your powers. Her arms fell through your body and Bruce stared with a disgusted glare. The dark knight had always disliked meta-humans living in Gotham, they were too easy for the rogues to control... As was clearly the case with you and Selina, he thought to himself. Damian on the other hand stared in awe. “Y/N?”

Bruce was none too happy that you knew his son. It reminded him of his current youngest son's past. Still, he said nothing as his son engulfed you in a tight hug. You stood stiff, looking to Selina for aid, unsure how to react. However, she was too surprised at the young man whom she knew to be distant and angry at the world 24/7. You slowly reached behind your old friend and folded your arms around him, resting your chin on his shoulder. “You missed me so much that you stole my old mask?” The smugness in his voice made your cheeks light up. You hadn’t even known that the mask was his, but you realised how it must’ve looked to him. Still, you couldn’t help but shoot back. “Yeah, and if you’re not careful, it’ll be your old suit I steal next time.” Damian chuckled. He had missed you. More than you realised.

As you and Catwoman departed from the scene, the two men realised they had forgotten to confiscate your loot. Reaching towards his utility belt to inform Red Robin of the two burglars on the run, Damian realised that one of his batarangs was missing. Looking in the direction you and Catwoman had fled, he saw you waving it around in his direction. A quiet “Damn”, left his lips. And Bruce shook his head affectionately at his son. It reminded him of when Selina used to do that when they were younger. Giving Damian’s shoulder a light push, he murmured so just the two of them could hear, “Don’t get too attached to the batarangs, they run out easily when in the company of a thief”.

You and Damian would start to meet up on a semi-regular basis. Sometimes you had been out looting with Selina, and he had come to demand back whatever you had taken. But most times, you simply met up to spend a quick while together on the Gotham rooftops. You couldn’t spend too long, he had to go back to his patrol, after all. 

Once, you had even stolen a small stereo speaker which you used to blast out Damian’s favourite music as you danced the night away together after his patrol.

Then you guys started to go out together in the daytime. You had moved in with Selina and didn’t live too far away from Wayne manor, so it was easy for either of you to drop in to hang out with the other.

Damian would develop a crush on you after a relatively short time, and I imagine that it would be the same for you. He’d feel as if he was finally home as your relationship quickly tuned back into what it had been when you were younger, and you finally regained your best friend, the only person who could make the League of Assassins an appealing place and who could turn Gotham into a paradise in comparison.

I could see him asking you out one night on the rooftop of the largest art exhibition in Gotham. He was awfully confident that you’d accept… And you did, so, his confidence wasn’t entirely misplaced… But it still irked you a little, in a good way, of course.

Damian is and will always be a passionate lover. You would be the only one for him and his loyalty never wavered. However, that doesn’t mean that he ever let you get off with your stolen artefacts. He would tease you for getting caught, even if he knew that with your power set, you most likely let him catch you. Still, he would let you off empty-handed with a kiss and a hasty, “See you tomorrow, beloved”.

As the years went on. Damian became the new Batman and you took over the role of Catwoman. “History repeats itself”, Bruce chuckled quietly as he sat next to Selina at you and Damian’s wedding. While the oldest Wayne was still wary of you, (old habits die hard), he did enjoy your company and was more than pleased that Damian had found happiness in your arms. Jason and you likely developed a close friendship, he remembered how you saved him and he is nothing if not loyal to those who show him unconditional kindness.

Whether you quit your thieving adventures after your marriage or not doesn’t matter. If Damian was to be totally honest, he actually enjoys the cat-and-mouse chase which ensues whenever you walk through the walls of a jeweller or an art gallery, taking whatever catches your eye.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne #league of assassins #kitty pryde #dc x reader #catwoman

[lyralaneoriginal12]

Your Voice is My Reality (Platonic Older! Damian Wayne x baby boy reader)

“There there, my sweet angel... Baba isn't going anywhere...”

Aged-Up Damian Wayne as Demon's Head of League of Shadows who also the loving and protective father of you. (It gives 'I will burn the world for you' kinda vibe, but oh well)

(WARNING! OOC)

Damian felt like his heart was about to explode, he fell on the ground and was wounded. The enemy had shot him right in his chest. The pain is unbearable but worst of all, his baby witnesses all this. It was a mistake already to bring you to this type of meeting. Here you are now, witness his assassination.

The League's assassins quickly neutralize all the threats and manage to take control of the situation. You was crying in fear. The enemy also looked scared of what he just did to the Demon Head. You pry release the hold of the nannies and quickly run towards your father.

Damian tried to breathe, he was struggling to stay alive and awake. The assassins and the nannies were shocked because Damian stayed in a pool of his on blood, with a gunshot wound on his torso. The Demon Head was bleeding profusely on the ground after being shot.

“Baba, no!”

Notice his son now right beside him, Damian raises his hand and slowly caressed your head. Even in this state, Damian’s mind only filled the need to protect you and to make sure that you are okay and safe.

“There there, my sweet angel... Baba isn't going anywhere...”

Says Damian in between pain while looking at you with a sad and concerned expression. He tried to fight the pain of the gunshot wound, which was making him feel a bit weaker each moment that passed. Damian vision start to blur. You were crying while clutching on your father's chest. Your beautiful blue robe completely soaks in Damian's blood.

Damian looks at his baby, with a loving, concerned and tender look on his face. With that, Damian closes his eyes. The vision is becoming more and more blurred until... the darkness comes slowly and gradually.

Time Skip

There’s many people wearing all black cloaks, circle the Lazarus Pit. The very pit glow in green and had a very rotten aroma. The smell that was coming from the green pit was awful, it was as if a lot of dead bodies were buried there. Damian's body being carried by the monks. He's ready to be revived from death.

You currently in the arms of Marie, one of the nannies of the League. You suckles quietly on your pacifier, with tiny cloak covering your body, watching the whole ritual carefully and looking closely at the monks.

The monks, Damian's advisors and the assassins were surrounding the pit, waiting for the moment.

You saw how the monks submerge their body until they were waist-deep while gently carrying Damian's corpse. Then, they carefully placed Damian’s corpse into the waters.

You watched as your father was completely submerged in the water. You squirms a little at Marie's arms, feel a little distress when you sees your father being submerged into the toxic green water.

“Hush, Master (Y/N)”

Assure the nanny at his young master to calm you down.

There's a long pause until Damian broke through the water with a feral cry, his jade eyes were glowing an eerie green. The greenish mist coming from the water then filled his eyes, making Damian see the surroundings very weirdly. Damian snarls at the monks and feel how his body is moving and healing on its own.

Damian starts to go wild and attacking the monks and assassins. Everyone knows the effects of being dipped into the Pit, how the user is driven temporarily insane. But well... Damian had used it quite a lot, so the effect doesn’t take toll on him completely. Damian keeps attacking the monks and assassins like a wild animal. Tearing them apart with his bare hands.

The madness continues until you calls out for him.

“Baba...”

The Demon Head stopped immediately and turned his gaze to those angelic voices, looking at the baby with malicious gaze. Damian saw that you was being held by Marie. You makes a grabby hand at Damian, which scares Marie who tries to protect you from Damian rampage.

Damian stops attacking everybody once he hears his name being called by his angel. Damian closed and opened his eyes once again, as his sweet angel's voice snapped him back to reality. Slowly but surely, recognition was in his eyes. Damian’s rage and feral behavior are over.

“(Y/N)…”

Damian slowly stands up, while look at all the shocked faces of the advisors, assassins, and monks, who are watching the whole scene with a confused and scared expression on their faces.

Damian slowly walks out of the Pit and goes to you whose still in the nanny arms. The green water wetted the concrete floor, but he didn’t care, he needed to embrace his son now. The servants quickly cover Damian's body with his majestic red robe, so he won’t catch cold. Like there’s no tomorrow, Damian takes you from the protective hold of your nanny. You quickly hugs your father in a loving manner.

“Baba”

Damian gently holds the baby in his arms, with the loving and caring eyes of a father, who's glad to be back with his little boy. Damian looks at the whole room, with all the advisors, assassins and monks looking at both Damian and his son, with a confused expression on their faces. Damian couldn’t help but chuckle a little especially to the monks and assassins he accidentally hurt previously.

“Well, this is... awkward...”

The people in the room couldn’t help but giggle a little at Damian’s remark.

Damian looked at his baby with a happy smile on his face.

“Hey, beloved. I missed you so much.”

Damian kisses you on your chubby cheek, as your cute smile touches Damian’s heart. You giggles softly when his father does so while pinching his your own nose cutely.

“Baba stinky. You are stinky!”

Damian chuckles a bit when you says that he is stinky. You didn’t go wrong though.

“Yes, yes, beloved. I must admit... I need to get a bath but now that I'm back with you again, my precious angel.”

Damian smiles a little at you again, feeling his heart being touched by your adorable words and the little pinch you gives yourself after making this sweet and funny remark. Then, you happily claps your hand.

“Bubble bath, Baba! Bubble bath!”

Damian chuckles after your comment as he gently touches your small and soft chubby hands.

“Yes, bubble bath it is.”

The servants quickly scatter to prepare bubble bath at the grand bathroom of the League of Shadows base.

#damian wayne #damian al ghul #damian wayne imagine #damian al ghul x reader #batfam #damian wayne x baby reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x y/n #dc comics #male reader #batman #dc headcanon #dc imagine #older damian wayne #batfam headcanons #robin headcanons #robin imagine #batbros #batboys #older!damian wayne x reader #robin x reader #dc robin #robin dc #batfamily #batman imagine #damian wayne angst #reader insert #fake scenarios #fanfic

[rapz-rites]

Cats

Damian Wayne x reader

Black cat x orange cat relationship

What happens when you and Damian get turned into cats for a day

Word count: 631

Warnings: Cute

Of course you and Damian both had to be turned into cats accidentally by Raven. She was trying a new spell, Gar distracted her and it went sideways. Damian was turned into a black cat and you were turned into an orange cat. Fitting. Luckily it would wear off after a day.

Damian, as a human or cat, was very reserved. He wanted his own space, isolated from everyone, peace. Unfortunately for Damian you were a very affectionate person. You would cuddle with Gar, comfort Jaime when he was homesick, reminding Raven she’s cared for.

Damian was the only person you couldn’t show affection. It was almost like he was allergic to it. But you were going to fix that.

As cats, if Damian was somewhere, you were right there with him. You loved it. He hated it.

Throughout the day he would try to avoid you, but you didn’t accept the hint and stayed near him anyways.

One would think Damian hated the affection you gave him, but that wasn’t the case. He kind of liked it, but he just didn’t know how to react to it. In the League of Assassins his mother never hugged him, his grandfather never asked him how he was, or ask how his day was going. But you did. You always checked up on him. Even though he acted like it annoyed him, deep down he really appreciated it.

Damian would never admit this but he got jealous when Gar would transformed into a cat play with you.

As previously mentioned, you were attached to Damian at the hips. Even when he tried hiding on top of the fridge, poof, there you were. He actually got startled by you and fell. Luckily for him, he still had his ninja agility even as a cat.

You and Damian were playing with yarn, well Damian was. No body knows what you we’re doing. Damian pushed his black yarn ball left and right between his paws. When he look over at you, that’s when he saw. You were completely entangled in purple yarn. He couldn’t help but snicker. Thankfully Raven was there to set you free. Sadly for you, she took the yarn away from you. When Damian noticed you pout he kind of felt bad. In no way was he going to give you his yarn to get tangled in, but he just his paw on you and you immediately felt better.

At one point during the day you thought it would be fun to pounce on Damian and tackle him. He just let you.

Damian was on the couch just sitting there, watching everyone. Even as a cat Damian was still intimidating. You could tell he was tense.

You sat on the opposite end of the couch. Damian didn’t know why considering how you’ve been all up on him since you two got turned into cats. He wanted you near him. As if on cue, you made your way towards Damian and rubbed your head against him. You could feel him relax from your touch. And you laid by his foot until you fell asleep.

That night Damian went to his room. Of course, you followed him. You laid on the bed just watching him. He was on his desk just looking at his thinks. He leaped down by his easel. He knows what his next painting is going to be. Being a cat for a day has really given him some inspiration.

When he was done looking around he saw you fast asleep by his pillow. He decided to join you. He laid there, cuddling with you, slowly drifting off to sleep. And that's how you two were in the morning, as humans. Starfire was sure to take a picture to send to Dick.

This was just a cute little blurb I thought of in the shower... I just wanted it to be something sweet. ☺️

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #damian al ghul #damian al ghul x reader #cats #spell gone wrong

[astrum-naut]

no escape

characters: yandere! league of assassins head! damian wayne x healer! Reader

summary: you were just a medic. nothing more, nothing less. but, the league’s current heir seems to think otherwise.

content warnings: power dynamics / power imbalance (head!damian, healer! reader), technical child abduction and labor, kidnapping, implied murder, unhealthy relationships, co-dependency (?), jealousy

word count: 2k 

Always remember that this is a work of fiction and everything written does not fully encompass and describe Damian Wayne’s personality and character. Feel free to send in asks / questions / clarifications / thoughts about the work.

You didn’t know what your life would be without Damian Al Ghul in it.

It was a bold claim to make considering he might have not regarded your existence any importance at all. From the moment you were born, your utmost priority was placed on his safety and overall well-being - as you showed an innate talent for advanced healing magic. The Al Ghuls desired the best, and with your forebears dwindling in numbers - they were willing to place their chances on the nearest child who showed potential.

It wasn’t a complete nightmare as outsiders made it seem - the only few you could interact with anyway. In the outermost region of Nanda Parbat that bloomed with herbs, elders would tell tales of warning whenever you were about to return to the base. A bittersweet smile is what you could only offer in members, obligated to to swallow the reality being a healer has to offer. The duty of aiding wounded members was already enough, but their stories of bloodshed was part of the ordeal you had to accept.

As times have passed, so did the eventual rise of the heir. If you were being any honest, you found him to be a bit of a brat. There was no denying his skills or swordsmanship. but as a child who grew beside him, you couldn’t exactly read his mind. You didn’t know where you exactly stand with him, but it doesn’t matter in the end. There was a level of authority and cockiness whenever interactions were required between you two, and you were only obligated to fulfil your part as a medic.

If you were being any more honest with yourself, during the late nights wherein other girls your age talked about mundane topics, you would admit that you found some level of attraction towards him. Your choices were already slim since you barely left the palace and the interactions you have with the assassins were limited. But, as your mind grew hazier throughout the night, you would almost have to lie to yourself if you didn’t think about his green eyes that shone like emeralds - or his broad form that barred scars of battle wounds as he grew of age.

Your perception of him was a convenience, something to help pass the time whenever you yearned for a legitimate life outside the walls. You never actually thought of pursuing any kind of relationship with him, a ridiculous thought to even entertain at the position you were in. A mere service person is what you are, a staff at the abode - not a potential bride or lifelong partner. 

It was a mindset that helped you at least cope with the thoughts of love swirling in both your heart and mind. Yet, it doesn’t help numb the pain you feel in your chest as one of your colleagues announces an upcoming bridal showcase for Damian’s future spouse.

—

“Feeling down about the announcement, (Y/N)?” One of your colleagues, Farah, coos as she tidies up the clinic. You remain silent, focused on organizing the medicinal herbs gathered earlier in the day. Your affections for Damian wasn’t exactly a secret, but it was well-maintained enough by your co-workers. It was like a passing conversation whenever something serious was not occurring within the day.

The other staff who were in the room giggle discreetly and you finally scowl. “Why are you even acting like we’re in a secret relationship or something, it’s not even that serious.”

They ignore your heated words, shooting you playful looks or cheeky smiles. 

“Really? Don’t you find it odd that he was willing to accompany you during the latest scavenge for the items needed today? He’s never done that with us.” Leila pipes up, shoving Mariam for extra emphasis. The latter’s smile became even brighter, “Or the time the sanctum was under attack and he was looking for you first?”

You shrug the notion off, “I’m just one of the healers who can immediately heal him, there’s nothing more to it.”

The girls roll their eyes once more.

“Why are you so in denial about it? Haven’t you thought about the times he’s willing to go easier on us just because you were there? Or the small tokens or gifts he gave you from abroad? Or– or! The times he confided in you while you’re healing him?! He’s never even said anything similar to us unless it was to scold us while healing him!” Farah counts on her fingers comically and you’re tempted to laugh at her exaggerated expressions.

“Maybe the problem is he’s not available…” Mariam says loudly at the back of her hand, a  guffawed sound escapes from Leila.

“I don’t care if he’s available or not. He never notices me, and if I were really paying attention to his advances or not*–” You defend yourself before you’re cut off by their combined giggles.

“(Y/N)’s got it bad*–”

“I hope you’re spending an equal amount of effort delegating and prioritizing your job as you are in this gossip.” A deep voice booms throughout the chamber, and all of you stiffen as your eyes land on the speaker.

It was Damian, with his strong arms crossed and his heated stare pinned to you.

The others scurry off, finding sudden interest in leaving you alone with the heir. You swallow the tension building in your throat and find the words to say, “I a-apologize for our discussion. It wasn’t at all necessary, pardon our unprofessional behavior.”

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds and your life nearly flashes in front of you. He finally sighs and makes his way towards you, he takes off his green and gold garb as he gestures towards his arm. “I require the fixing of a laceration placed here. Make it urgent.”

You want the ground to swallow you whole, barely peeping out a sound in response to his order. Your hands hover for a few seconds as you try to ignore the swole of his upper muscles, his large biceps relaxed under your proximity. You don’t know if the heat of the atmosphere translates to your face, but you fight off the urge to think about his body further,

He doesn’t say anything, but you admit his judgemental gaze leaves you feeling unnerved. The Al Ghul's signature green eyes always held some kind of scrutiny behind the pretty color, and you were lying to yourself if you didn’t acknowledge how small you felt whenever any of their sights landed on you. You constantly felt like a prey that was meant to be devoured. 

You were being more dishonest if you didn’t wonder how it would feel if any emotion other than contempt or disappointment were to show in his eyes.

“What was the discussion about that it required you to be distracted on your duties?” His voice, god, his voice. It was articulated, like he was immediately ready to counter any of your arguments or excuses.

You pause for a split second, trying to calm your nerves. Why were you even nervous, anyway? It’s not like he knows your crush on him, even if he does - you’ll never be with him. If you were lucky enough, he would exile you from the palace and not decapitate you for entertaining such aspirations, unworthy of a healer born and raised alongside the legacy of assassins he was born into.

“Unrelated endeavors to your obligation to heal our fellow comrades, I presume? ” He cuts into your thoughts, your mouth left agape at his suggestion. He doesn’t take his eyes off you as your heart pounds against your chest, “You are of age, it shouldn’t be much of a shock considering whatever looms in your mind. Although…”

Something swirls in his eyes as he speaks again, “I’m not the least bit gratified when you take your eyes off your duties, what lies in front of you with your capabilities and talent. I shouldn’t have to tell you this, considering your calibre. You should know better to read the situation to better gauge what’s happening around you. You must focus on what matters most, anything or anyone else is unacceptable.”

You sputter, exasperated at his statement. “W-what? I’d like to think I’m making an acceptable, even outstanding effort in my job. Have the hours or ages spent dedicated towards ensuring the league’s utmost safety and health not enough for you?”

He narrows his eyes at you and the phlegm builds in your throat, tightening your ability to breath.

When he was younger, he was privy to scoffing at the smallest of things, like a typical child under his stature would. He’s grown out of that phase with enough firm glares from his mother, shrinking to the power she withheld over him as his son - the few moments you would enjoy his slouched form and withdrawn eyes. You were used to his judgemental gaze over the sloppy techniques you performed, even grabbing your hands a few times to readjust the gauze or bandages you’ve placed on another soldier. 

Damian became older, but the feeling you received from the interactions never changed. You wondered if his mother would immediately decapitate her head from her signature sword after laying your calloused hands on her son, a form of retribution for all the years you’ve been trapped on the island. 

“Just know that you are lacking in your duty as of this moment and others that have come before it. If I had known that you were this distracted, I would have assigned you closer to where I can see your performance clearly. Many healers have spent their entire lifetime here, binded by other league members, and this circumstance is no different should I see you slacking off - engrossed over a matter more important than the mission - you should know I do not take kindly to those interfering with your loyalty to me. Do I make myself clear?”

The taste of blood floods your mouth and for a split second, you wonder if your end would be closer than normal should you decide to rip his laceration open. 

You don’t muster a response as he pulls your arm closer to him, searching your eyes for an answer with his emerald gaze. His grip was strong and firm, but it didn’t crush your limb when he decided to intimate you when you were both children. Even as he was seated, you were of equal height - and you were luckily enough he didn’t decide to tower over you as usual.

You were accustomed to these exchanges, but it didn’t stop you from trying to stop your tears bursting at the corners of your eyes.

Damian tuts, “Do you understand me, handmaiden? Or do you want me to make you see your errors more directly?”

“Understood.” You blurt out as fast as you could, your molars grinding against each other at the rage bubbling in your stomach.

He doesn’t speak again but you know it means more than you will ever understand.

He releases his hold on you and you try not to stomp towards the opposite direction, the feeling of his eyes on your form never fading. You could barely remember if the treatment was finished but you don’t even care anymore. If your death was near, you could eventually go out on your own terms. Maybe even try visiting the local village for some poison you could consume in your slumber.

But something in you disregarded that notion. Like you wouldn’t be dead for a long time unless Damian had something to do with it, whether you wanted it or not.

You didn’t know what the feeling was, but it was definitely not pleasant as goosebumps fluttering your skin. Was he that upset at your retort? It was hardly the worse way you spoke towards him. Even if that was the case, you would’ve been murked by both his grandfather and mother eons ago.

Still…

You weren’t an expert, but you were sure it wasn't irritation you felt raking against your form. 

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