spider eyes

𒌐 MOVING TO @arachnidseyes 😁𒌐

[arachnidseyesmoved]

BLOG HAS BEEN MOVED TO -> @arachnidseyes

🕷️DAMIAN WAYNE🕷️

🕸️Damian Wayne x Constantine! Reader

Blood and Change

Breakfast and Goodbyes

Calls and Connections

Kisses and Promises

You and Me

Love and Change

🕷️DIANA PRINCE🕷️

🕸️ You have to be a little possessive when your partner is literally Wonder Woman.

[arachnidseyesmoved]

I'M MOVING TO @arachnidseyes

So I can function as a primary blog instead of a side blog lol.

[arachnidseyesmoved]

─⋅⋆⁺𖤐

YOU AND ME

Damian Wayne x Constantine! Reader

A/N: Previous. Next. Damian and reader go on a date!!! That's all that happens, I swear! w.c: 1.8k

─⋅⋆⁺𖤐

You bow with the rest of the performers on stage as the crowd gives one last show of appreciation. When the curtains fall, you very stealthily scamper towards the dressing rooms, catching the sly wink Zatanna throws your way. Maybe you weren’t being that stealthy.

The door to your dressing room clicks shut and you eye yourself in the vanity mirror, only then realising how nervous your own reflection looks. There’s a lot that can go wrong today and a lot you really want to go right. 

With a little twirl and a poof of smoke, your magicians outfit is swapped with the outfit you spent a rather embarrassing amount of time picking out. Before you can fuss anymore over your reflection, there’s a knock on the door.

That was fast, at least you’re not the only eager one. You take a quick, deep breath before opening the door. 

Damian Wayne stands in the doorway, he takes you in while you take him in. He’s dressed less fancy than the last time you saw him; bomber jacket with a simple but probably unnecessarily expensive t-shirt and loose jeans.

“Are you ready?” You ask, unable to fully hide your excitement. You see just the smidgen of a smile on his face as he answers rather seriously,

“I’m always ready for anything.”

“Don’t challenge me, Wayne.”

You pull him into the room, shut the door, and knock three times on it, giving him a grin. 

“You let me plan this whole thing, remember.”

You open the door and step through into an entirely different place.

Damian’s sneakers touch cobblestone road and he squints in the sudden sunlight. He thinks he knows already, given the wide bustling streets and the architecture of the buildings around him, but he asks anyway since you look like you want to tell him. 

“Where are we?”

You wind an arm around his, leading him in a seemingly random direction.

“Turin, Italy. I did a mission here a while ago. That’s what we’re going to see first -some good ol' spooky occult shit, this city has tons of it.” 

He lets you drag him to several such occult sights. He listens while you yap about the differences between demonic and non-demonic cathedrals, how to know if a crypt is cursed and which ghost sightings are obviously real and which are fake. He does it all with an attentive mind, almost like he’s reading a book he really likes and he's trying to burn it into his mind.

Once you're done showing him all the "cool shit", you proudly announce that you also planned some things he'd actually enjoy. He keeps the fact that he was enjoying himself the entire time to himself. 

You take him to an art gallery, an archaeological museum and a natural history museum. You listen to him yap all about unconventional painting techniques, which period had the best samurai swords and which fun facts about prehistoric animals are actually true and which are completely false. You listen with the ear of someone who’s hearing their new favourite song for the first time.

─⋅⋆⁺.

“I get that, but when a magician asks you for your favourite animal and you say "Anaconda." You should at least be a little ready for her to pull out an anaconda! He almost soiled himself on stage!”

Damian huffs a laugh, easing back against the bench you two found that completely coincidentally (as far as he knows) has a perfect view of the sunset. You sit in easy silence, sharing a cup of caramel ice-cream. He looks more at ease than you’ve ever seen him before and an embarrassing amount of pride blooms in your chest at how well your date turned out to be.

You stare ahead at the horizon and wonder if he’s thinking the same thing you are, the thought sparks a bit of unease. Realising you haven’t said something stupid or irritating in a while, you decide now would be a good time to break the fast.

“Do you think the sunset will be this pretty on our wedding day?”

His lips nudge downwards, not quite a grimace but he eyes your smug grin with judgement written on his face. He sighs and takes another scoop of ice-cream with his little wooden spoon before saying,

“I hope so.”

The teasing grin disappears from your face, and all you can do is gaze ahead blankly. That’s not what he was supposed to say. 

You clear your throat and take a bigger than necessary bite of ice-cream, racking your brain for what the hell to say next. After a few minutes you try again, teasing tone more forced than before.

“Do you think Alfred would walk me down the aisle?”

He doesn’t look at you this time, he just stares ahead at the pinkish-orange sky.

“I'm sure he would if you asked. So would my father. He would be glad that at least one of his sons can commit.”

You scoff and look ahead too, wishing you could see the view through his eyes instead.

“I'm sure he'd be proud.”

Damian doesn’t have to ask who you’re thinking about when you say that, so he doesn't.

“Would you invite…her?”

He tilts his head up, genuinely thinking through how that would play out despite how ridiculous this complete hypothetical is.

“I don’t know. I’d want to.”

You nod in understanding. Some things are just too complicated to work out. A twinge of sadness settles before you feel the impulsive urge to turn to a lighter topic.

“Titus would make the perfect flower boy.”

He lets a smile slip onto his face, finally looking back at you. The sun leaves little specs of gold in his eyes and you find yourself openly staring (unbeknownst that he’s making the exact same observation). He takes the cup from your hands and places it beside you on the bench. Taking your hand in his, he brings you closer by the cheek and kisses you gently. It's simple, almost easy, not something you would've believed a few weeks ago. 

When you part, he stays close. It feels just like those stupid cheesy movies, like a pretentious romance novel, like a sappy love song. But it feels good, good enough that you hold off on the snarky comment for just a few seconds more. 

“You know you’d have to make Jon the best man, right?”

Damian groans, pulling back and closing his eyes, acting as if he completely believes he'll have to do that. You laugh and lay your head on his shoulder.

“C’mon, He’d be devastated if you didn’t.”

He slinks an arm around you, keeping you close.

“Maybe we can lie and tell him Arab weddings don’t have a best man.”

You let out a snort, 

“Good luck with that.”

You stay like that until the sun sinks behind the distant mountains, replaced by the orange glow of street lamps. Eventually, you stand from the bench, clearing your throat a bit.

“I know I’ve kept you all day, but do you want to grab dinner?”

He stands from the bench as well, throwing away the little ice-cream cup before casually lacing your hands together.

“How could I say no to my future wife.”

Your heart almost stops. Your brain stammers and so do your words.

“Don’t- Don’t say that.”

“Say what, Beloved?”

He asks, looking down at you with a smirk. You very much do not like being on the other side of this dynamic at all, and you know he knows that. He might just be able to feel the heat from your face!

“Stop that-”

Before you can finish, the world stops, literally.

Everything slows to a halt. Crickets stop chirping, the breeze stops blowing, all commotion on the street is silenced. Even Damian is suspended in animation just like everything else. Everything except you and-

You spin your head around, knowing exactly what this is. He used to do this when you were being belligerent on missions. He'd just stop the entire world to yell at you for being a dumb kid.

Nothing for months and he picks now?

You slide your hand out of Damian’s and step closer to where you can see the yellow portal forming.

“You really have bad fucking timing.”

“Language.”

John Constantine steps out of the portal, hands in the pockets of his coat, cigarette in his mouth.

“I need yer help.”

You couldn’t stop the eye roll if you tried.

“Obviously.”

Why the hell else would he be here? He sighs and takes in his surroundings, looking anywhere but you.

“What are ya even doing here, sight seeing?”

You step back towards Damian and grab his hand, bringing him out of the time freeze. He looks around, taking in the situation with shocking calmness, his expression turns to understanding when he sees John.

“I'm on a date.”

John looks at you, then at Damian, then back to you. It takes him a minute to understand who Damian is and what that means. The cigarette falls out of his mouth as he sputters like an idiot.

“Yer fucking with me.”

“Language.”

He regains some composure when he notices the way you’re looking at him. As if he just remembered how you two left things. That you might actually not want to see him.

“Look, Love, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't an end of the world kind of thing.”

You feel Damian squeeze your hand a little, a reassuring act, an act of trust. There’s a deep understanding between you but with that comes a lot left unsaid, left in the grey space of "We both understand this so there’s no need to discuss it really.” or maybe you do want to talk about it but don’t know how. Being exceptionally gifted kids with exceptional, world-saving parents and bucket loads of trauma isn't something you just bring up casually.

But Damian understands obligation and responsibility. The need to do what’s necessary.

“Fine.”

John sighs, like he actually thought you wouldn’t say yes for a second. The thought brings you more pleasure than you’d like to admit.

“Come along then.”

He simply states, before disappearing into his little portal leaving it open for you to follow. Everything slowly returns to normal pace again, the bustle of the street returns as pedestrians keep on like nothing happened. Lucky bastards.

“I’ll call you…when I’m done.”

He nods his head. He’s taking this very well and you’re not sure how to feel about it. He's trying to be understanding, probably because he knows you'd do the exact same thing for him. You barely have to talk about why you have to go, what you have to do.

"Don't make me stitch you up again."

He brings you into a hug. You think briefly on how awkward a hug from Damian would have been just a month ago. The thought makes you smile as you burrow your face in his warm neck, breathing in his distinct scent. You part far to soon and open a magic door for him,

“This’ll take you home. To the manor.”

With that you give him one last long look before following your dad into his portal, going who knows where to face who knows what.

─⋅⋆⁺𖤐

[athenalvss]

THE BAT'S WIFE ( Bruce wayne! )

summary: Some members of the league are still surprised by the way the Dark Knight's wife looks.

pairing: Bruce wayne x wife!reader

open request - Bruce masterlist

Given Bruce Wayne's past likes, everyone would know that in the future he would have a more than wonderful wife, not just anyone could occupy such an important place, and so it was.

You became the only woman capable of accompanying him in his life without losing your light, giving him the happiness he hadn't had in years. They had chosen each other time and again to walk side by side for the rest of their lives.

Bruce Wayne's wife was by no means an average woman. You had a beauty that was hard to describe in words, because it wasn't merely physical; you were magnetic. Whether you were in a room full of ambassadors or on a covert field operative, there was always something about you that made one's eyes linger. A lethal blend of grace, intelligence, and poise.

You didn't possess metahuman abilities, but that didn't diminish your influence. Your ability to read a situation, anticipate, intervene discreetly, and know when to stay back made you a natural ally, even for a team full of gods and soldiers.

Your relationship with Bruce had been solidified for a while, but he remained reserved and overprotective of you. The League had seen you on several occasions. At gala events, diplomatic meetings, or even at League IT meetings, contributing your work from a more administrative perspective, always alongside Bruce. Always elegant, calm, almost untouchable, but this was one of the few times you showed up at the Watchtower without your husband by your side.

For the first time, you stepped into the Watchtower without your husband or any of your children by your side.

You walked with your head held high, a folder under your arm, your heels clicking firmly on the metal floor. Each step you took had the same precision with which you used to handle high level negotiations at Wayne Enterprises or assist Bruce in matters that went beyond Gotham.

The League common room wasn't a solemn place at that moment. Barry, Hal, and Oliver were talking animatedly about who among them had completed the most missions in the last month. Diana sat reading, with that imperturbable stillness. Arthur was nowhere to be seen, and Clark, who was always the first to greet you, was also nowhere to be seen.

The conversation was interrupted as soon as you walked through the door.

Hal was the first to notice. His laughter died in midair, frozen mid air by his astonishment at finding you there. Completely flawless. Your bearing was subtle yet striking, with that gaze of yours that, though gentle and even innocent at first glance, carried with it a quiet confidence that didn't need to be imposed. It was natural. Inevitable.

Oliver looked down from his cup as if he'd sensed a change in the pressure in the air. Your presence alone disrupted the rhythm, but he was observant, and he simply studied the reactions of the others.

Barry turned his head with his trademark reflex and froze completely. He blinked once, swallowed, and put down the donut he was holding halfway.

Diana, on the other hand, wasn't startled. She barely raised her eyes from the book she was reading and smiled a friendly smile as she greeted you. She had always had a lot of respect for you; you were a powerful figure, a woman accustomed to walking among men who thought themselves superior and letting them know, without a word, that they weren't.

You had the grace of someone younger, with a restrained energy that contrasted with the severity of the man you shared your life with. Not because of a lack of maturity, but because of that innate brilliance you possessed; and when everyone had the chance to see you together, they understood why the bat cared so much for you.

“Wow…” Hal whispered, not realizing he had said it out loud.

You were dressed in a fitted black jacket, a white silk blouse that elegantly caressed your figure, and high boots that enhanced the natural firmness of your gait. Your hair was pulled back with perfect carelessness. A soft shine on your lips, and that barely perceptible perfume that, unintentionally, lingered.

Barry was the first to find his voice. "Is everything okay?" he asked awkwardly, as if unsure why he was talking. "I mean, uh, can I help you with something?"

You stopped a few steps away from them, and with the folder under your arm, you smiled at them politely.

"I'm looking for J'onn. I brought the reports he asked me for on the satellite infrastructure," you reply casually, as if you didn't notice the weight of their gaze on you. As if you didn't know you'd left them speechless.

"he's in hallway three, communications room," Hal said quickly, rising from his seat. "I can walk you there, if you like."

"Thank you," you said politely, without altering your tone. "But it's not necessary. I already know how to get there. I just wanted to stop by and say hello first." Before you left, you gave them a friendly, naturally charming smile.

Hal followed you with his eyes when you turned around, with that slow, elegant gesture that came naturally to you, And Barry…

Barry had run out of air.

Oliver watched the scene with an amused eyebrow raised. He didn't say anything, but the smile that spread across his lips spoke volumes.

The footsteps of your boots faded into the distance, but the effect of your presence still lingered like a thick perfume, impossible to ignore. For a moment, no one in the common room spoke. It was as if everyone was digesting what had just happened… and no one knew how.

Hal was the first to break the silence. "My God," he exhaled, sinking back into his seat. "How does Bruce manage to concentrate on anything with that woman in the same room?"

Oliver gave a short laugh, shaking his head. "Who tells you he does? Maybe he can't concentrate at all, and all these years we've had him on a pedestal of self control just because we didn't see it when she was around."

Barry, still somewhat dazed, kept looking down the hallway you'd left, as if he expected to see you reappear at any moment.

"I say this with all due respect" Hal added, pointing down the hall as if he could still see you, "if she weren't married to him, I'd make my move in a heartbeat."

The comment hung in the air. No one responded immediately. Oliver snorted through his teeth, as if unwilling to interfere, and Barry barely looked away, uncomfortable but not contradicting him. For a moment, all that could be heard was the distant hum of the ventilation system… until the silence became too heavy. As if something had suddenly occupied it.

No one heard him coming, it was almost impossible to do so.

No one heard him coming, it was almost impossible to do so.

"Who would you make your move with, Hal?"

The voice was deep, raspy, and flat. But each word cut like a freshly sharpened blade.

Batman.

They all turned at once. Bruce was standing a few feet away from them, his hands clasped in front of his chest, his face completely expressionless. He had arrived as silently as a thought.

Hal swallowed. “Bruce… I…”

"What are you talking about? "

The question fell like a rock in the center of a tense surface. Without raising his voice, without changing his expression. Just a simple question.

And at that moment the men at the table were able to breathe an internal sigh of relief. Batman wasn't going to kill them; he hadn't heard anything. And when they were about to answer to save their own life.

Diana got there first, looking up from the book she'd been holding the whole time. She gently closed the cover, raised an eyebrow with absolute calm, and fixed her eyes on the millionaire. "They're talking about how hot your wife is"

[k0ter]

[arachnidseyesmoved]

I think ppl may be overreacting a little about the new red hood comic (mostly because I just want it to come out before properly assessing if it's shit or not)

But I gotta say I do NOT like the new outfit.

They had it right the first time! I miss the shiny red helmet and that stupid brown jacket 💔💔

[secretsdcblog]

You're all goofy

[needlesknick-knacks]

actually ive changed my mind. If u r a girl u need to join me in reading as many dc comics as possible and becoming insufferable nerds so them some of us can become comic writers/artists and write the best fucking stories ever. 90s dc will pale in comparison to what we will cook up. Keep reading, keep analysing, AND KEEP PIRATING DONT GIVE THEM A CENT GODSPEED I LOVE U ALL

[luca-is-a-pengu]

Tim got a new camera for his birthday, and Jason was just trying to play his new game. Some things never change

[toomanyf4ndoms7]

If I was in charge of dc, I’d give Oracle a miniseries comic that would involve her fully transitioning back into Oracle after her spinal chip takes heavy enough damage (or maybe it’s just run its course.) The comic would be about her doing coordination with different hero teams, bringing back her connected web of informants. JLA, JSA, Young Justice, BOP, maybe even Suicide Squad.

There’d also be a heavy focus on her inner thoughts and opinions. Explain that she liked being able to glide and run again. “Being Batgirl felt like going back in time. When the city needed saving and not the world.” But she knows that Oracle can do a lot of good, so that’s who she’ll be.

The comic ends with her hanging up the costume in a private glass case, before turning to her setup with a green glow and a confident grin.

[arachnidseyesmoved]

Dan Mora, I love you so much, why must you hurt me? (Make Damian white)

[arachnidseyesmoved]

What is he doing??? 😭

[spicy-apple-pie]

Happy Father’s Day here’s a little thought for you guys

One year, the batkids all decided to band together and make a photo album of their baby photos.

Some are easy. Duke has the easiest access because most of his parent’s possessions are accounted for in Gotham. It’s pretty easy to make copies of the ones they choose. The Thomas’s had a lot of pictures too. They have the classic first birthday where Duke is covered head to toe in blue icing from his Cookie Monster cake. They also have Duke screaming in Mall Santa’s arms followed by a picture of him with red wet cheeks gnawing on a candy cane.

Same with Tim, tho there’s not a lot in comparison. Not that his parents were absent, just that there’s a lot less candid ones. Just birthdays and studio photos kinda deal. There’s an especially cute photo of him in a teeny tiny tux.

Talia has a whole binder full of Damian’s baby pics including some art works he did and his baby teeth. Those she’s not willing to part with tho. There’s a cute one where he’s doing a finger painting and Talia captioned it “Damian exploring Abstract Expressionism” and frames the outcome beside the picture.

Cassandra’s are a little harder to track down, but there are a few. They are mostly taken to track her progress, and it’s a bit depressing to see chubby baby Cass who just learned to walk already learning martial arts. But there’s a few where she’s doing puzzles and that’s pretty cute.

Dick had to go to Haly’s Circus to look. Luckily they keep a little memorial wall for the Graysons and there’s some with Dick in them. There’s one where his mother his holding him while he’s dangling from a trapeze bar with a big gummy smile.

Jason’s is the hardest to find. But he manages to track down a preschool photo. He’s smiling big and awkwardly with his hair slicked down and a tidy polo shirt.

When Bruce opens it, he immediately get tears in his eyes. And like, he doesn’t cry a lot, but seeing his babies as babies. It just hits him like monster truck and a few tears drop but he never sobs or anything. It’s probably the best Father’s Day gift Bruce has ever gotten and it’s really hard to beat the following years

[arachnidseyesmoved]

😭😭😭😫😫

[arachnidseyesmoved]

─⋅⋆⁺𖤐

KISSES AND PROMISES

Damian Wayne x Constantine! Reader

A/N: Previous. Next. Reader & Damian are 19-20. Ignore the shitty title, pretend it's good. More batfam nonsense! wc: 2.2K

The crowd is too loud.

The seats are uncomfortable.

The lights are too bright.

Of course, he's handled worse but Damian briefly wonders why he came at all.

“Ladies, Gentlemen, Distinguished guests. I am very pleased to announce, we have a brand new act for you tonight!”

Right, that's why.

The audience eats up Zatanna’s showmanship as she ends her first act of the night with her usual dramatic flair.

“Please give a roaring welcome to my niece—"

Damian scoffs. What a lazy cover story.

"—The Amazing, The Magnanimous, The enchanting, Miss Constantine!”

In a poof of smoke, you appear right next to Zatanna and the crowd cheers. Your outfit looks much like hers, magician's hat, white cloves, white top and all, except you have on boots instead of heels, a skirt over the trademark fishnets and a velvety magician's cape to tie the whole thing together. You give a little bow, tipping your hat.

“Hellooo Gotham. Nice to meet you.”

The crowd is alive with anticipation. Hoots and hollers ring out, a few wolf whistles as well, to which Damian rolls his eyes. He shoots a harsh glare at Jason when he lets out his own louder than necessary whistle.

He knows he only came to see one act, and he hates that he knows that but he especially hates that his family also know that. His family who, completely coincidentally, were all planning on attending Zatanna's show on this specific night.

They could at least pretend not to take joy in his suffering, with how they all grin at him the moment you poof onto stage. At least his father and Pennyworth do a better job at hiding their amusement.

“Before we begin, a quick disclaimer: I am a professional animal handler.”

Damian scoffs. You wish. You simply have magical persuasion over demonic entities that can look like animals. He's seen you play with Titus, you have absolutely no handle over real animals.

“Under no circumstances should any stunts or tricks involving animals be attempted without a professional present… Now, may I have a volunteer?”

The crowd bursts into shouts and raised hands. You point towards a little girl in the second row, maybe around ten years old.

“You, with the pigtails, would you come on up please?”

The little girl sprints up to the stage at alarming speed. You reach behind your back and pull a microphone from thin air, holding it up to the grinning girl.

“What's your name, Sweetie?”

“Lizzie.”

“Lovely, everybody welcome Lizzie.”

The crowd applauds and whoops. Lizzie’s grin grows wider as she fiddles with her dress bashfully.

“Now, What's your favourite animal, Lizzie?”

“Sharks!”

The little girl answers immediately.

“Okay, I can’t do that one. Liz, can you pick another one?”

Chuckles flow through the room as Lizzie makes a thinking face.

“Ummmmm”

“Like…a rabbit, maybe?”

“Uhhhhhhh.”

“Perhaps a dove?”

The crowd chuckles at your attempts to goad the kid into an easier option for you. Lizzie’s face lights up,

“A bat!”

“A bat?!”

The crowd cracks up as you look at them with genuine bewilderment.

“Is that a Gothamite thing?”

They give you a few hoots and hollers in response. Damian rolls his eyes again as his brothers (and Stephanie) cheer particularly loudly with Cass quietly laughing at their antics.

“Ok, ok. I can work with that. Hold this.”

You pass the completely unnecessary mic to Lizzie and take off your magician's cape, placing it on a round table behind you so the velvety red fabric covers the table all the way to the floor.

You place your hat down on the table and start digging around in it, after a second you pull out a beautiful white rabbit.

Lizzie gasps and the crowd claps but you just tsk.

“No, that’s not right.”

You pass the rabbit to Lizzie and reach into your hat again, deeper than should be possible.

It’s clever, Damian thinks, placing your hat on the cape-covered table gives the audience the impression that they know the trick, but of course they don’t know it's actual magic. After some searching, this time you pull out a dove.

“No, not that.”

You pass the dove to Lizzie’s shoulder and keep searching the confines of your hat.

A pigeon, mouse, squirrel and parrot are all pulled from the hat one after the other and placed on a giggling Lizzie’s shoulders.

“Oh, a robin!”

Damian can’t help the hitch in his breath when your eyes meet his from where he sits in the elevated box. It’s only for a moment but apparently it lasted long enough for Dick to notice as he nudges Damian with his elbow and wiggles his eyebrows like an idiot.

“Is this close enough?”

You ask Lizzie, showing her the little bird and she shakes her head with a toothy grin as the robin perches on her head, due to her shoulders being occupied already.

“Alright, fussy kid.”

You peer down into the hat and then scoff loudly, placing the hat back on your head.

“Ah! Lizzie, we forgot the magic word!”

“Please?”

“No, Love. Abracadabra!”

With a swift lift of the table cloth, a rush of bats burst from where the table should have been. Shrieks, laughs and applause ring out from the audience. Lizzie squeals so loud, the ‘animals’ perched on her all conveniently flee backstage. The flurry of bats make their exit stage right as you give the praising audience a bow.

Damian's seen you smile plenty of times before but he's not sure he's seen you smile so wide. You look like you're glowing under the stage lights, soaking in the applause like you're made to be praised by an adoring audience.

─⋅⋆⁺.

You release a heavy breath when you get to the door of your dressing room. Zatanna, having walked you there after the last curtain call, huffs a laugh,

“Y’know for someone who’s just getting used to crowds, you really do a good job once you’re up there.”

“Yeah, well that’s cus no one can tell I’m shitting my pants the entire time.”

Zatanna laughs,

“It gets easier, more comfortable. The crowds, I mean.”

“Thanks… Aunty.”

Zatanna cringes and it’s your turn to laugh.

“Ugh, I told you to stop with-”

She stops herself looking over your shoulder,

“Looks like you have a guest~”

You already know who it is from her tone, exactly who you were hoping. Zatanna giggles rather childishly as you shoo her away.

“Constantine.”

You resist the urge to smile at the same monotone greeting he always gives you, turning to him,

“Wayne.”

You're both staring. You both look quite different from the last time you spoke in person, even if that was only a few months ago. Obviously your stage outfit makes for quite a difference but he’s dressed rather out of the ordinary too, in a well fitted suit that Bruce no doubt had to force him into, rich kid problems.

“I think you usually have to pay for backstage pass.”

You open the door to your dressing room and motion him inside.

“I should at least get a discount considering I’m the reason you’re here.”

You halt in your tracks.

“What?”

“If you hadn’t come to me that night, you wouldn't have taken my advice to stop fighting demons and almost dying all the time.”

Straight to the point. So matter of fact it's almost ridiculous. You cross your arms, not really believing the audacity.

“I made the decision myself. That conversation we had was just the catalyst. And I'm still fighting demons by the way, just less often.”

You sound childish but to be fair, he started it.

“I'm alright with just being the catalyst, I suppose.”

You scoff and turn around, checking your makeup in your vanity mirror, fixing the dark shade of lipstick you have on. He watches your reflection in the mirror and clears his throat after a minute.

“That's one hell of an intermission act”

You look at him through the mirror.

“Is that praise?”

You only noticed then how he's inching away from the door and closer towards where you stand. He clicks his tongue,

“Yes, it was an impressive performance.”

You turn around to face him, grin lighting up your face.

“Careful, I might get the impression you're flirting with me.”

He grumbles something unintelligible and shoves his hands in his pockets, looking to the side. He stops within reaching distance, looking at your face now, still with that frown like he's trying to solve a puzzle.

You lean against the vanity, the look in his eye has you nervous and you're not sure why. You decide to dissolve the situation in the only way you know how, being a cheeky bastard.

“And If you keep looking at me like that, I might even think you want to kiss me, Wayn-”

Before you can finish your irritating comment, he makes the split second decision to stop dancing around like a boy and be a man.

He kisses you. Simple and to the point, just like him. It's stiff and completely unexpected on your part.

You're still in shock when he separates, wide eyes looking into his unsure ones. His gaze turns down, his eyebrows furrowing like he's chastising himself and he backs away. He doesn't get very far before he feels some magical force pull him back and you grab his stupid fancy jacket and kiss him again.

It's deeper, you pull him in and he accepts it. A hand on your back, his lips moving against yours. You can feel him ease into it more when you run your fingers through his short hair, palm grazing his cheek.

He huffs lightly against your lips, pulling away slightly, bringing your hand away from his cheek. You freeze up a little, worried you did something wrong, but the way he looks you in your eyes says otherwise. He tugs on each finger of your glove and pulls it off, placing your hand right back on his cheek before working on your other glove.

You let out a breath, more like a wheeze, and bring him into another kiss. He holds your hand in his and brings you even closer with his other hand on your back. He’s leaning in so close, pushing you against your vanity just to get even closer. It's not rushed or desperate at all, but there's a shared feeling of deep need. A wanting.

You pull away to breathe, he tries to follow your lips, much to your amusement.

Unfortunately for him, he's too busy staring into your eyes to notice the shit-eating grin on your face,

“You like me~”

You whisper to him, an accusation, a taunt. He sighs, tilts his head to the ceiling and says,

“Despite my better judgement.”

Not being one to waste an opportunity, you lay a kiss on his newly exposed neck. To which he flinches and touches the area like you've pinched him.

You laugh and lean back against your vanity. He moves back just a bit, so he’s not right on top of you. A shame.

He fixes his already neat tie, taking a deeper than necessary breath before asking,

“This is your last night in Gotham. The show, I mean.”

You hum in confirmation, not feeling the need to hide the way your eyes roam anymore.

“Where are you going next?”

“Metropolis.”

You answer simply, smug smirk still prominent. He clears his throat a little and nods.

“I can be there.”

To his annoyance, your grin widens.

“Oh, can you?”

You tilt your head a little,

“You could just call me. You remember I can teleport, right?”

His scowl has returned, sitting on his face like it never left.

“I’d like to avoid you being at the manor. Those imbeciles still won't let me live down the last time you showed up.”

You chuckle at his expense, to which his scowl deepens and his face warms. You very much did not help with that whole situation.

“So, It’s a date then? After the show, we can go somewhere nice…together.”

You shrug and he nods while fiddling with his cuffs, who knew Damian Wayne could be so fidgety?

“I’ll be there.”

With that he makes his exit and when the door shuts you both let out twin sighs of relief.

—⋅⋆⁺.

Damian spots Alfred waiting for him next to the limo the rest of the family huddled inside. As soon as he and Alfred are seated, the limo is off. He realizes how unusually quiet it is and only then notices that everyone is looking at him.

Stephanie and Tim look like two school girls, trying to stifle their laughter. Jason is just giving him a wider than usual smirk. Duke and Cass do a better job of hiding their amusement, covering their grins, pretending to look out the window. Even Alfred and Bruce share a knowing look.

Dick, not known for subtlety, has his phone out and is taking pictures with the flash on, the dumbest grin on his stupid face.

“You got a little something on your face there, D.”

Damian’s eyes widen and his shoulders tense.

You got your lipstick all over him.

Jason, Tim, Duke and Steph all burst out laughing as Damian kicks Dick's phone out of his hands and tries to rub your lipstick off his mouth with his sleeve.

“A wet wipe, Master Damian?”

Alfred offers, the saint. Damian snatches it up with a small thanks.

“You got some over here too.”

Jason remarks, pointing to his neck. The smarmy bastard couldn’t look more pleased with himself.

“Shut up, Todd.”

He hisses with as much venom as he can muster.

He knows exactly where you kissed him, he can still feel it, like it happened a second ago. Though he’ll keep that observation to himself, much like the soft smile he notices on his father's face.

─⋅⋆⁺𖤐

[mnaanna]

Saw the post from @2698rr, and the idea of nightwing doing a backflip on TV, the show off!

Sorry, I'm new in tumblr, don't know how to tag the OP more than this way!!

[ofmermaidstories]

“i wouldn’t do that” “i wouldn’t say that” “i wouldn’t wear that” “i wouldn’t kiss them” too bad you pedantic dorks, you’re not the one in control here.

[arachnidseyesmoved]

Whyyyyyy does Tumblr not open links in the app anymore?!?!

Tumblr staff do you want me to Kms???