Summary: you accidently called Nightwing a "good boy". In your defense, you're used to working with dogs..not people!
“C’mon,” you sigh, crouched halfway under the Batmobile while Dick attempts to hand you a wrench that is very obviously the wrong size. “Not that one. The— yeah, there you go. Good boy.”
Silence.
You slide out from beneath the car slowly, confused as to why Dick stopped talking.
Nightwing is frozen.
One knee bent where he’d been crouching, blue eyes blown wide behind the domino mask, wrench still dangling from his fingers like his brain has temporarily disconnected from his motor functions.
Bruce asks, “What exploded?” knowing that the only time his kids were quiet was if someone fucked up.
Dick clears his throat.
Then immediately chokes on absolutely nothing.
“You okay there?” you ask carefully.
“Fantastic,” he says instantly, voice cracking straight through the middle of the word.
Oh no.
Oh no.
Jason, seated nearby cleaning one of his guns, looks up with the slow delight of a man witnessing the beginning of a natural disaster.
“…Did she just call you a good boy?”
Dick points at him violently. “Don’t.”
“OH my God,” Jason breathes, eyes shining. “OH, this is bad.”
“It was a joke,” you say quickly.
Dick nods too fast. “Totally. Obviously. Completely normal joke. Happens all the time.”
“Right,” you agree.
“Totally unaffected.”
“Clearly.”
Dick stands up so abruptly he slams his head directly into the underside of the Batmobile. CLANG.
There’s a beat.
“…Fantastic recovery,” Jason starts.
Dick, still folded in half from the impact, gives a weak thumbs up.
The problem should’ve ended there, and it would've given any normal circumstance. But you work with vigilantes, so your normal is pretty different from most people's.
Nightwing proceeds to lose every remaining shred of composure over the next three weeks.
Not in obvious ways, but Dick Grayson’s problem is that he’s trying very hard to act normal. Which makes him one thousand times worse.
Because suddenly he’s everywhere.
You mention being hungry once? Dick appears holding your favorite takeout sheepishly. You casually say your phone’s about to die? Charger lands in your lap before you finish the sentence. You offhandedly mention liking a sweater in a store window? Three days later it mysteriously appears folded on your bed in Titans Tower with no note except a sticky tab reading:
'saw this :) '
Which would already be suspicious enough. Except every single act of service is followed by this unbearable look on his face. It's that wide-eyed look of hope.
Like he’s waiting for something.
You don’t understand it until the fourth week.
It’s movie night at the Tower. Everyone’s there.
Garfield is upside down on the couch, and Kory is attempting to explain why alien horror films are scientifically inaccurate and this is not how her people act. Tim is asleep sitting upright somehow. Jason’s eating cereal directly from the box with a serving spoon.
Dick walks in carrying snacks for everyone.
“You remembered the chocolate-covered pretzels?” you ask.
Dick brightens instantly. “Yeah.”
You grin. “Aw. Good boy.”
Dick stops moving entirely.
The bowl of popcorn slips from his hands.
Jason drops dead onto the floor laughing before the popcorn even hits the ground.
“Oh my GOD,” he wheezes. “HE LIKES IT.”
“I do not—”
“You practically wagged your tail!”
“I DID NOT WAG ANYTHING.”
Kory tilts her head thoughtfully. “Actually, your posture did become notably more eager.”
Dick looks like he wants the earth to open beneath him.
Garfield is crying laughing into a throw pillow.
Tim wakes up just long enough to mumble, “Knew it,” before immediately falling back asleep.
And you stare at Dick, who is now aggressively avoiding eye contact while turning the color of a fire hydrant. He is suddenly very interested in cleaning up popcorn one kernel at a time, as he mutters, “It’s not my fault,” under his breath like a man on trial.
Oh.
Oh, this is hilarious.
“You know,” you say slowly, “this explains a lot.”
Dick points a popcorn kernel at you accusingly. “You explain a lot.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“It made sense in my head.”
Jason is still dying on the carpet. “He’s so pathetic. This is the best day of my life.”
“Jason,” Dick snaps.
“No, no, keep going,” Jason says delightedly. “Maybe he’ll do a trick. Wanna fetch, good boy?”
Dick throws popcorn at his head.
Jason throws it back.
Garfield joins in.
Within thirty seconds, a full-scale food fight erupts across Titans Tower.
Kory starts launching popcorn, and Tim wakes up again solely to throw an M&M directly at Jason’s forehead before passing out for a second time. Someone knocks over an entire soda.
In the middle of the chaos, Dick grabs your wrist and pulls you backward out of the war zone.
“Come on,” he says, laughing despite himself.
You stumble after him into the hallway, both of you breathless.
The noise from the living room muffles behind the closing door, and suddenly it’s quieter.
Dick’s still holding your wrist ridiculously tight.
You look up at him, amused. “You know they’re never letting you live this down.”
“I know,” he groans.
“You’re kind of making it worse.”
“I know.”
“You literally dropped the popcorn.”
“In my defense,” he says solemnly, “you treated me like a dog!”
You laugh. Dick looks at you for a second too long. Then a fond expression sneaks onto his face before he can stop it. And there it is again, that look of hope.
Like he’s waiting.
You raise an eyebrow.
Dick immediately looks away. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“You know what.”
You absolutely do.
Which is why you grin and lean slightly closer.
“Good boy.”
Dick Grayson actually, physically malfunctions.
His head drops against the wall with a quiet thud.
“Oh, you are NEVER surviving this,” you inform him cheerfully.
From the other room, Jason’s voice echoes
“DID HE SHORT-CIRCUIT AGAIN? CYBORG! ARE YOU SURE YOU'RE THE HUMANOID?”
pairing: jason todd x fem! reader, platonic!damian wayne x fem!reader, platonic!tim drake x fem!reader, platonic!dick grayson x fem!reader
summary: Teaching Jason's girlfriend self-defense didn’t turn out as they expected.
word count: 890
warning(s): English is not my first language, not proofread, no use of y/n. Only dick, damian and tim on this fic, sorry! fake gun and knife
author's note: my ig's feed keeps popping this account, and i knew i had to do something with this hahah
˗ˏˋ ♡ fic inspired by this video and this one tooˊ˗
Boredom had arrived at Wayne Manor.
Everyone was gathered for a family lunch. It was customary for the whole family to get together at the Manor once a month to spend some family time—away from their vigilante lives.
It had been a couple of months since Jason had introduced his girlfriend to the family. Or rather, formally introduced her; after his siblings had invaded his apartment looking for answers about his disappearances.
The group was in the living room. Each one held a drink in their hands or had one by their side.
It had been a while since boredom had swept over the group, and now they were talking about the first thing that came to anyone’s mind.
“We could teach you some moves,” Dick said to the girl.
The conversation had drifted toward the lack of coordination among Gotham’s criminals.
Jason’s girlfriend turned to look at one of her brothers-in-law, frowning in confusion.
Jason laughed under his breath, the bottle of beer just inches from his mouth.
“Yeah... good luck with that.”
For space reasons, they moved several pieces of furniture so they could move around freely without worrying about breaking something and getting a scolding from Alfred.
“What is this?” the woman asked, referring to an extendable wooden ruler Tim had handed her.
“It’s a ruler.” Jason’s girlfriend looked at him, stating the obvious. “But we’ll use it as a knife.”
Dick leaned against a table next to Jason, crossing his arms.
“Bruce used it with us at first to train us,” the boy explained. “After that, he moved on to real knives.”
“Huh,” she muttered under her breath, inspecting the ruler. “What a nice family,” she murmured sarcastically, raising both eyebrows.
“And yet you’re still here, doll.”
The girl winked at her boyfriend.
“All right. First I’ll show you how it’s done, then you’ll try,” Tim announced. “Extend your left arm forward with the ruler.” The girl did as asked. “Perfect. I’ll block your move.”
With a nod, the woman extended her arm forward again.
Tim raised his left forearm upward to prevent her from attacking him by pulling her arm toward him. With his other arm, he would strike the girl’s wrist with his elbow to disarm her.
However, the girl raised the ruler upward, pretending the blade was up.
Faced with the new movement, Tim stopped his arm.
“What just happened?”
Jason smirked and took another sip from his bottle.
Dick’s turn.
“After that weak job from Red Robin, Nightwing will show you how it’s done.”
The three boys rolled their eyes and sighed tiredly.
“Go ahead, Wonder Boy!” Jason exclaimed with amusement.
“All right,” Dick said, mentioning her name. “You’ll attack me from above and I’ll block your move, okay?”
The girl nodded.
Dick had given fewer instructions than Tim, which showed he wanted to catch her by surprise and prevent her from making a move he didn’t expect.
“Now.”
With her left hand, she raised the ruler above her head. Dick, with a quick movement, blocked the action by forming an X with his arms, preventing her from lowering her arm any further.
However, the girl dropped the ruler, quickly catching it with her other hand, and hit Dick on the head with it, taking advantage of the fact that he was distracted by the unexpected move.
Jason burst out laughing at that.
“Another wonderful job by the incredible and marvelous Nightwing.”
“Tt. I’ll show these fools how it should be done.”
Pff... it didn’t turn out as the boy expected.
Unlike his brothers, Damian hadn’t even given her instructions.
The boy let her approach to secure victory.
The girl, just as she had done with Tim, extended her left arm.
Damian grabbed that arm to immobilize it and take the weapon away.
However, when the boy turned his head, Jason’s girlfriend pulled a toy gun from her pants and pressed it against his head.
“Bang!”
The room was suddenly plunged into silence, as three out of four vigilantes blinked, assessing the situation that had just occurred.
Damian looked up to observe the woman, who was smiling at him while still holding the toy gun against his head.
“Impossible.”
Damian’s eyes went to the toy gun.
“How do you do that?”
“Where did you get that from?!”
The girl laughed, handing both things back and moving closer to her boyfriend.
“I took it from the box while Dick was thinking about what move to make.”
Jason extended his arm around the girl’s waist, pulling her closer to him.
“I used to take self-defense classes when I was a kid,” she said, feeling Jason’s fingers slowly caressing her waist.
“Before I knew he was Red Hood and before I could do anything, she stopped us from being robbed with a broomstick.”
Damian looked at the girl and narrowed his eyes.
“Would you be interested in being a vigilante?”
Before the girl could say anything, Jason began pushing her away to get his girlfriend away from his crazy family.
“We’re leaving, it’s time for our son’s dinner.”
When both disappeared from the room—which happened incredibly quickly thanks to Jason—to say goodbye to Alfred, Dick frowned and tilted his head in confusion at what had been said.
summary: Loving Damian Wayne wasn't as hard as loving Damian Al Ghul, grandson of Ra's Al Ghul himself and heir to the League of Assassins. But no one knew just how complicated it could be—until his girlfriend ended up paying a price she didn't deserve.
word count: 4.4k
warning(s): English is not my first language, not proofread, no use of y/n, angst, kinda hurt/comfort but not for long.
author note: btw, I don't know who created that draw of Damian, but if anyone knows, please let me know so I can give them proper credit!
Love was not something Damian could afford.
Ever since he was a baby, he had been taught that love was a weakness.
Loving and being loved were not part of his vocabulary. The closest he ever came was his mother’s love, but even that wasn’t the kind of love he needed.
Until life—or, as you liked to say, fate—finally decided to bring them together.
Their relationship wasn’t something that happened overnight. It had required work and patience on your part—even more than that.
Damian wasn’t the kind of person who could feel comfortable around strangers, and she had been no exception.
However, she hadn’t given up when he left her talking to herself on several occasions. There was something deep in her heart that made her feel sad every time she saw him alone everywhere at school.
From the moment she arrived, during every break, every class period, right up until dismissal, the girl’s eyes were on him and his loneliness.
As time went on, she realized that Damian wasn’t the kind of person who enjoyed noisy company. So she decided to start from scratch, keeping it simple and giving him space to relax in her presence.
She started simple and from the heart, with chocolate chip cookies. Even though most of them ended up burning the night before, forcing her to start over, she reminded herself it was for a good cause.
Every morning, even if the cookies were inside the Tupperware, you could smell the delicious aroma they gave off. The smell drew everyone in the room; everyone wanted to take a bite of those delicious chocolate chip cookies, but as soon as someone tried to take one and got swatted by the girl, everyone learned that those cookies belonged to only one person: Damian Wayne.
That was just the beginning.
Damian began accepting your gifts, even if they weren’t as exquisite as Alfred’s. At least they were… acceptable.
In the blink of an eye, the two of you were at each other’s houses, working on group projects or spending every hour of the school day together.
“Have you ever ridden the bus?” asked his new friend.
They were both finishing up their latest assignment. It had become a habit that, since she had free rein to choose her partner, she would show up by his side with a smile, as if she’d found her favorite introvert in an adoption store.
On the table were various snacks, courtesy of Alfred, along with a pitcher of juice.
“No.”
He replied simply so that her attention would return to the work and she wouldn’t get distracted by trivialities.
“Hmm,” she murmured thoughtfully. “Well, sometimes the drivers leave the door open while the bus is moving. You know, ”Damian had no idea what she was talking about, but he didn't deny it anyway," when the bus approaches your stop, you go up to the door to let them know in advance that you're getting off. But sometimes they don’t close the door after the previous stop, and that’s when your intrusive thoughts about jumping while the bus is moving come in.”
Damian’s hand stopped writing. He frowned in disbelief at her confession and looked at her in dismay, while she refocused her attention, humming a song, on the project as if she hadn’t just said something troubling.
Damian blinked once. Then again. And again. Until he had an idea.
He would make sure Alfred included her on the round trip to school, or else he would get a driver for her. Of one thing he was sure: she would never get on a bus again. Or at least not alone.
Even in the face of the silly things you might say when you were bored or needed to fill the awkward silences, no spell, blow, or bruise could stop his heart from beating differently for her.
It had probably been her smile; or how her eyes always sparkled when they spotted him in the crowd; or how she had learned to love him regardless of who he was or the legacy he carried.
Their confession of love?
It was a bit strange…
It had been after a gala hosted by the Waynes. Damian still remembers it to this day.
He remembered seeing her come down the stairs, after getting ready at Wayne Manor, the emerald-colored dress highlighting her figure, her body adorned with golden jewelry, and her shiny hair half-up, adorned with a small golden butterfly.
“You look beautiful,” he exclaimed aloud.
That confession brought a genuine smile to her face, lighting it up even more.
The night passed quietly. There were no emergency calls for Gotham’s vigilantes that night.
Damian’s hands fit perfectly around her waist. Meanwhile, her hands gently touched his shoulders and hands.
It seemed like a perfect night, as they both silently encouraged the love they felt for each other to grow in their hearts.
Until he happened.
In a moment of carelessness, the son of an important, long-established Gotham family pulled her away from Damian to ask her to dance.
One dance turned into two, then three, until, politely, she exclaimed that she had to leave the gala, seeing that her family was waiting for her.
A lie.
Her family didn’t care about those dances. When it came to donating, they were happy to oblige, but pretending to have fun with people who talked about themselves and their achievements? No, thank you.
For the rest of the night, Damian hadn’t been able to hide his displeasure completely. His answers were short and curt, gradually dampening the excitement the girl felt about spending time with him that night.
Soon, the ballroom was empty. The only lights on were those in the second-floor hallway and a few in the rooms.
“Damian?”
The girl’s voice broke the silence in Damian’s room.
Still wearing her emerald dress, her hair tousled, she approached him until she was a safe distance away.
“What’s wrong with you? Is everything okay?”
“I’m perfectly fine,” he replied listlessly, but with a hint of sarcasm.
“Why shouldn’t I believe you?” she asked sarcastically, moving closer.
She sat down beside him, sinking into the comfort of the mattress.
“Come on, you can talk to me,” she insisted. “We were having such a good time, and then… It’s like we’re back to when we first met.”
“Maybe now you can use your tactics and win over that daddy’s boy.”
The girl frowned at the comment.
“What are you—?” A sudden silence filled the room. “Oh, Damian.”
A soft laugh broke the boy’s composure.
“Are you jealous of him?” she asked, amused.
Damian exhaled sharply.
“Why would I be? Who is he, compared to me?” Although Damian’s tone was cutting, the girl didn’t wipe the amused smile off her face. “You could go back and dance with him all night, and he’d still be a nobody.”
“I danced with him out of courtesy, Damian,” she replied matter-of-factly. “Besides, you’d gone off with your father to greet a couple of people. I was going to be bored until you got back.”
“And the other two? Were you mesmerized by his ugliness?”
The woman bit her lip, trying to hold back a laugh.
“That was good,” she murmured, nodding. “But no. You know I still have a problem saying no to people.”
Damian looked away from her.
But the girl wasn’t going to give up on getting back the Damian she’d worked so hard to win over.
She took his hand in hers, accepting the warmth radiating from his body.
“Damian,” she said, cupping his chin with her other hand, forcing him to meet her gaze again.
If there was one thing that remained from the first time she’d met him, it was how easily she could lose herself in the green of his eyes.
They conveyed not only wisdom and experience, but also that Damian was capable of loving uniquely and exquisitely.
His eyes had an incredible ability to leave her speechless. They silenced any words she’d formed in her head.
Damian raised an eyebrow when he didn’t hear a single word come out of her mouth.
That brought her back to reality for a moment, causing her to blink once to snap out of her reverie.
“Goddammit,” she muttered to herself.
Without a second thought—not wanting doubts and fears to creep in—she pressed her lips against his. With Damian’s body just inches from hers, she felt him tense at the action.
Finally realizing the gravity of her actions, she pulled away slowly and opened her eyes gradually, meeting Damian’s gaze as he watched her, slightly flushed.
Noticing the faint trace of fear beginning to form in the girl’s eyes, Damian took her cheek in his hand and pulled her into another kiss, where they allowed themselves to relax and explore each other’s mouths.
“If you’re going to start something, you have to do it right,” he murmured as soon as they parted.
Their foreheads were pressed together, embracing the intimate moment created just minutes ago.
The woman laughed softly.
Of course, Damian would say that after their first kiss.
“I know you prefer to take charge of that.”
The boy raised one corner of his mouth and kissed her again, taking all the time in the world. One of his hands rested on her cheek, and the other wrapped around her waist, pulling her body close to his.
A little over a year had passed since that moment that marked the beginning of their relationship.
Both were about to turn twenty when chaos broke out.
Ever since Damian decided to move to Gotham with his father, Talia had always kept tabs on her son’s life and his friends—one way or another.
When she found out her son was in a relationship with a civilian, it wasn’t exactly something she considered a good thing.
Talia believed that this relationship, these feelings, would cloud Damian’s judgment and make him abandon his life’s purpose.
That is why things had come to this: His girlfriend kidnapped on Talia’s orders, and Damian on his way to Nanda Parbat to rescue her.
Damian wasn’t stupid, but he had let his guard down when it came to his mother and her lessons—even as an adult.
Talia believed Damian needed to get his priorities back on track, and the best way to do that was to scare him.
However, things didn’t turn out the way either of them expected.
“So… you must be my son’s girlfriend.”
The young woman lifted her head, meeting her boyfriend’s mother's eyes. Standing before her was a tall, slender, and beautiful woman, but beyond her eyes, one could sense the danger that lurked within her soul.
It was as if she were warning you not to approach and to run in the opposite direction.
Talia Al Ghul.
The name echoed in her head.
Damian had told her about her, and about his life before Gotham. Once Robin’s secret was revealed, he decided the right thing to do was to be honest about everything—the good and the bad—and that included his life before becoming Robin.
“Hmm,” Talia murmured to herself, taking her time to examine her face in detail. “I see my son has good taste. You’re quite beautiful. But that isn’t always important.”
“What do you want?” the girl asked. “I doubt it’s money in exchange for my ransom.”
The two of them were alone in a room. The heat radiated from the floor. The walls were perfectly decorated, with only the bare essentials, but that didn’t make it any less elegant. The colors chosen were simple, but black, gold, and emerald green predominated, which answered the girl’s question about why her boyfriend was so obsessed with that color.
“It’s not something we need,” Talia replied simply, pacing the room while the girl sat on one of the single beds. “But more wealth never hurts, am I wrong?”
Talia raised an eyebrow when she received no answer.
“However, no,” she answered the question. “My son is forgetting who he is and who he will be in the near future.”
“So you’re blaming me,” she surmised, where her boyfriend’s mother’s words were leading.
“That’s right.”
The girl nodded slightly, letting her continue with her explanation.
“You’re here to remind him of his duty.”
The younger woman frowned at the remark. She looked up just enough to see her. Remind him?
“Are you going to kill me to prove your point? Because if so, I have a few suggestions.” Talia frowned, and both of them fell into a brief silence. “Although, come to think of it, I don’t think there are any buses around here.”
The older woman shook her head, snapping out of her confusion.
“I’m not going to kill you,” she clarified. “We’ll just work together to… set my son straight.”
“Together?”
The hours passed in silence.
The girl wasn't sure what time it was, but judging by the darkness that was beginning to envelop the room even more, she assumed it was nighttime.
From the contrast in light outside the room, she could tell that guards were stationed outside to prevent anyone from entering or leaving.
The door burst open, and two men entered. Their faces were covered by black garments, except for their eyes.
Each grabbed one of the girl’s arms, forcing her to stand up and start walking.
“Hey, hey!” she exclaimed, raising her voice higher and higher. “Who do you think you are, touching me? Let me go!”
Amid the girl’s struggles, the men finally made their way to the main hall, where Talia was waiting for them.
“You sure took your time,” she remarked dismissively, walking over to where the young woman stood.
Both men stepped away from them, and a new one approached—under Talia’s silent orders—and took the girl in his hands.
“We’re sorry,” one of them apologized on behalf of both. “But she bites.”
If it weren’t for the gloves covering his hands, Talia would have been able to see the teeth marks on the men.
The woman glanced back at the girl over her shoulder.
“What?” the girl asked, feigning innocence. “I told you not to touch me. I warned you. It wasn’t like it came as a surprise.”
Talia shook her head and sighed.
“Stay alert. My son will be here soon. You know what to do.”
The man’s grip on the girl’s arms tightened. With one arm, he seized both her wrists, while with the other he drew a dagger from his belt.
The young woman’s eyes widened in surprise as she felt the cold metal against her neck.
That wasn’t part of the deal.
A deal she had never agreed to.
She tried to wriggle from side to side, trying to break free from his grip or at least move away from the weapon; but there was no way.
The massive doors swung open abruptly. The figure of Damian, dressed in his Robin costume—except for the domino mask—was breathing heavily, his gaze fixed on his mother.
“Son,” the woman greeted him. “It’s good to know you’re still in one piece.”
Behind the boy lay a trail of unconscious people, and the rest who were still conscious were moaning from the ground.
Damian remained silent, a katana in one hand. His gaze shifted momentarily to his girlfriend, who was in the hands of one of them. Noticing the glint of the dagger against his girlfriend’s neck, he tightened his grip on the katana.
“You shouldn’t have brought her.”
There was a deep line of tension etched across his son’s jaw. His body was also rigid and tense as he assessed the situation in the room, taking his time to think of the best way to keep her out of reach of anyone but him.
Damian made eye contact with the man.
“Let her go.”
However, it was to no avail.
The man didn’t bat an eye. He didn’t move a single muscle in his body; as if Damian’s orders—the future leader of the League—were of no consequence.
“See, Damian?”
He turned his gaze back to his mother.
“None of them will listen to the orders you have to give. You’ve lost your focus; you’ve forgotten what you were trained for. And they know it.” His mother clasped her hands behind her back. “They know you don’t have enough power to be the leader the League needs.”
“Mother,” Damian clamped his mouth shut. He tried to ask. He wanted to ask. But Damian Al Ghul did not beg. “I will resume my training in the League if necessary. It’s not her fault.”
Talia smiled imperceptibly.
“It will take you quite some time to regain that level, Damian.”
Damian’s tense expression didn’t change. He didn’t even blink under his mother’s gaze.
Talia spoke again. “Move the dagger away from her neck.”
In the blink of an eye, the dagger moved away from the girl’s neck. His girlfriend took a deep breath, unaware that she had forgotten to breathe for a few minutes.
“Block her body from Damian’s view.”
Soon, his girlfriend’s figure disappeared beneath the man’s massive frame.
“Press the dagger into his stomach,” she continued without pausing to breathe. “Stop.”
In that split second it took his mother to give the order to stop, his breath caught in his throat. From head to toe, his body went numb. There were limbs he could no longer feel, and others that felt as if they were floating.
“Do you see it, Damian?” his mother asked. “That is power. The power you’ve lost while you’ve been with her.”
There was no reply.
There was no scream.
No arguments.
All it took was a gasping breath and the glint of the shiny dagger covered in red to put an end to that talk of power.
Damian’s mind went blank.
Talia’s muffled voice echoed in his head as he moved toward his girlfriend.
“I told you to stop!” she exclaimed angrily.
Damian’s hands pulled his cape from his back. He took his girlfriend in his arms and laid her down on the ground. He pressed the cape against the wound that kept staining everything crimson.
“The plan wasn’t to hurt her.”
“Beloved,” The nickname slipped out of his mouth in a sigh.
The girl was breathing heavily, her eyes darting restlessly, betraying the fear she felt.
Okay. She used to joke about her intrusive thoughts of jumping off a moving bus. But she didn’t want to die. Not now. Not like this.
Reality hit her like a bucket of ice water.
Damian’s pressure wasn’t enough. She could feel her clothes getting wet with blood.
“You’re going to be okay,” the boy murmured. Although the comment was meant to reassure her, it was also meant to reassure him. “You’re going to be okay, beloved. Breathe, please.”
“Damian,” his girlfriend sobbed, choking on her words.
Damian’s emerald eyes met hers. His girlfriend had always been good at reading the emotions he kept hidden, even in that moment.
Damian was scared.
He knew the pressure on the wound wasn’t enough. His hands trembled as his mind filled with fear. His eyes glazed over with every passing second; with every second that his girlfriend wasn’t breathing properly or as her fear grew relentlessly.
“Dami…,” she sobbed again. “I don’t want to die. Please, I don’t want to die. My parents…”
Damian swallowed hard. He couldn’t get that huge lump out of his throat.
“You’re not going to die. I won’t let that happen.”
She died.
She died in her boyfriend's arms, while he begged her not to leave him.
Ever since her chest stopped rising, Damian hadn’t uttered a single word. Much less had he let go of his girlfriend’s body, which was growing cold beneath his touch.
The knot grew tighter.
And from dwelling so much on his fears, they came true.
She was dead because of him.
Because of his family.
Because of who he was and who he was supposed to be.
She had paid a price that wasn’t hers to pay. A price that wasn’t her responsibility.
“Damian.”
His mother’s voice echoed in his ears.
As his only response, he pulled his girlfriend’s body closer to him. As if his mother speaking could cause him more pain than she had already inflicted.
His eyes slowly fell upon the girl’s face. Her beautiful, closed eyes denied him a glimpse of the color he had fallen in love with. Her cheeks, which were always adorned with a rosy hue, had lost their color.
How could he have let that happen?
She had been the only person who had been able to see past Robin, past the fact that he was an Al Ghul, a Wayne. She had seen him for who he really was.
And now there was no one who would.
And there wouldn't be anyone who would, either.
She had died because of the League.
Because of something he was supposed to lead.
She died far from everything she knew. Far from her family.
She died in his arms, with him being the only thing that could bring her comfort.
There was nothing that could bring back her warmth. He would never again see her eyes shine every time they saw him enter a room. He would never again hear her laughter every time he kissed her.
Nothing could bring her back.
Nothing.
Damian should have listened. He should have stopped at the first person who told him no. He should have left behind his fear of being alone.
But he couldn’t.
He was aware of what it would do to her. He was aware of what he would have to do once she returned.
But as soon as his girlfriend’s body sank into the depths of the Lazarus Pit, he should have known things wouldn’t turn out as he expected.
He had seen his grandfather return so many times that he already knew the procedure.
Not this time.
As she sank, the pit disappeared with her. The green liquid vanished, fading into the air, until the only thing visible was her in a huge empty tank.
"No," he murmured.
His body moved quickly, going down to where she was.
"No, no, no."
The plan had not gone as he expected.
She hadn’t risen from the depths with anger. With the rage of being revived and brought back into a ruthless world.
No. She had returned with something worse than anger.
"It seems the Lazarus Pit was absorbed into her body," exclaimed Batman. After they realized the Pit had brought her back to the world of the living, there was a price to be paid for it. "After seeing what happened with Damian, no one who has been exposed to the Pit should have physical contact with her."
Damian frowned and clenched his jaw at his father’s words.
Both he and his girlfriend had returned to Gotham. Including his mother.
The girl was in the Batcave’s stretcher, connected to a machine that revealed her heart was beating again.
However, as soon as Damian heard that sound, his hands went directly to his girlfriend’s; but as soon as he touched them, parts of his soul tore away from his body. They tore away as if someone was peeling off layer by layer, opening every wound the Pit had closed.
"You can’t ask me that," the boy exclaimed. If it hadn’t been for Alfred tending to his wounds that had begun to open, he would have stood up abruptly. "She’s my girlfriend."
"You’ve been exposed to the Pit, Damian," his father replied. "And apparently she absorbs everything the Pit has touched. If you remain under her touch, you could die. She will take what the Pit gave you."
"Then let her take it."
Bruce shook his head.
"You should have listened when we told you the Pit wasn’t the answer. You should have left things as they were."
"She’s my girlfriend!" The anger in his voice was evident.
"I’m sorry, son," Bruce replied.
He really was sorry. Bruce had seen the happiness she brought to his son. He had seen how he opened up and allowed himself to be a normal teenager.
“Beloved.”
“No,” murmured the girl. “Don’t come closer, please.”
A few minutes after waking up confused, under the Batcave’s light, Bruce explained what had happened, and what had happened to her.
“Beloved, you won’t hurt me.”
“You don’t know that, Damian.”
The woman looked at both her hands.
She didn’t want to admit it, but they felt different. She felt different.
“You should have let me die.”
Damian frowned, annoyance growing in his chest at her confession.
“Don’t say that. I wasn’t going to let you go knowing I had the chance to bring you back. You said it yourself, you didn’t want to die.”
“This is worse than dying, Damian,” she whispered.
The boy tried to approach her again.
His chest hurt at seeing her suffering. All he wanted to do was wrap her in his arms and whisper in her ear that everything would be okay; that they would find a solution, and everything would go back to how it was before.
But he couldn’t do it.
“I told you not to come closer!”
Damian stepped back at her scream. His chest tightened seeing her so distressed because of him.
“Why can’t you see it from my point of view?” she inquired, looking at him with tearful eyes, hurt to be in that situation. “I love you, Damian,” she whispered. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
“But… do you know what it’s like to know I can never kiss or touch you again, knowing I could kill you in the process? Even if it’s an accident.”
“We’ll find a solution.”
She smiled slightly, bitterly. “And what if there isn’t one?”
Damian remained silent.
“I love you, but I can’t be with you knowing I’ll never be able to kiss you without hurting you in the process.”
“You must be thrilled,” the girl’s voice reached Talia’s ears. “Now Damian has a clear path to become what you want him to be.”
Both were alone. Far from curious eyes and ears.
Talia was good at hiding what she felt. Hiding the emotions that could work against her.
However, she didn’t, and the girl noticed it.
But she didn’t care.
She didn’t care what Talia thought. She didn’t care if she felt guilty or not. She didn’t care if she felt remorse.
In her eyes, she was to blame for everything.
Talia got what she wanted.
Damian would become the leader of the League of Assassins.
She was doomed to have abilities she never wanted. To never again have the man she loved.
And that was the aftermath of loving Damian Al Ghul.
pairing: jason todd x fem! reader, platonic!damian wayne x fem!reader, platonic!tim drake x fem!reader
summary: It was supposed to be a routine patrol, nothing out of the ordinary. Well, things don't always go as planned. Now Damian and Tim had to keep Jason from finding out that his girlfriend had been turned into a cat, a cute, fluffly cat.
word count: 1.2k
warning(s): English is not my first language, not proofread, no use of y/n.
Silence and tension hung heavy in the Batcave. It had been over half an hour since the small group had returned from their patrol. The streets of Gotham had finally reached that peak of silence just before dawn.
“He’s going to kill us.”
“He won’t kill us if he doesn’t find out about this.”
Damian’s statement put Tim’s fears to rest; Tim’s hair was tousled, and he had a twitch in his eye from the stress that had built up in just a few minutes.
A growl sounded below them.
They both looked down. A pair of piercing eyes glared at them angrily.
“And you won’t tell him about this.”
Another growl was heard, but this time two fangs were visible.
“Oh, God,” Tim exclaimed, pulling off his mask and pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Jason is going to kill us.”
“Todd won’t find out.”
“And how can you be so sure of that? Look at her!” he said, pointing with both hands at the cat in front of them. “They turned her into a cat, and we don’t know how to reverse it!”
“Drake,” Damian exclaimed irritably. “Jason won’t be back for another two days; we have more than enough time to figure this out.” Damian’s gaze shifted to the white-furred animal with black spots. “Maybe we can bribe her with tuna.”
The cat hissed at what she considered a degrading comment about tuna.
“Tt. Calm down. We’ll call Zatanna first thing tomorrow and sort this out.”
Tim sighed wearily and nodded at Damian’s words.
“It’d be best if you stayed tonight. It’ll be easier… for everyone.”
Ever since Bruce was a child, it had been perfectly normal to see Alfred walking through the hallways of Wayne Manor, cleaning and tidying things up.
What wasn't a common sight, however, was a cat trying to reach the doorknob of one of the manor's many doors, trying to open it.
Alfred let out a sigh.
“Master Damian really needs to start exercising some self-control around animals.”
With patience and grace, he made his way toward the door, while the cat waited for the butler. Alfred turned the doorknob, and the animal wasted no time in entering the room.
“I should remind Master Jason to tidy his room,” he muttered to himself. “Or at least ask him to let me do it.”
As the butler thought aloud, his gaze never left the cat, which was slipping between Jason’s clothes on the bed.
With her tiny paws, she gathered the clothes together, and when she decided she’d had enough, she lay down on top of them, relaxing her little body as if letting out a sigh with her body language.
Alfred’s eyebrows shot up in a frown. “Interesting.”
The man couldn't help but notice the strange detail around the cat's eyes. A perfect line around each eye, strangely reminding him of Jason's girlfriend and the eyeliner she wore every time they met.
Not wanting to get involved in another vigilante problem, he decided to simply pretend he hadn’t seen anything.
He left the door ajar, just enough so that Jason’s girlfriend could come and go freely from the room.
Tim and Damian were running all over the manor, searching for the sudden—and temporary—member of the family.
“Where is she?!”
As they frantically rushed through the rooms, they disrupted all the order Alfred had worked so hard to maintain.
When they reached the second floor, they stopped abruptly upon seeing Alfred.
“Alfred, by any chance haven’t you—?”
“Don’t finish that question, Master Tim,” he said wearily. “What you’re looking for should be in Master Jason’s room.”
Without another word, the butler left, leaving the two young men alone in the long hallway. And without wasting any more time, they both headed for Jason’s room.
“Can you see her?”
They both started moving around the room, not caring if they made a mess of it. That was the last thing on their minds.
“Where the hell did she go?”
Tim picked up the pile of clothes on the bed and carelessly tossed it onto the floor so he could search through the sheets.
A loud meow of surprise and indignation echoed through the room.
Both boys turned their heads toward the source of the sound.
Two pointed black ears poked out from among the clothes, and soon a white body covered in black spots appeared.
“I’m sorry,” Tim apologized, murmuring your name.
The cat snorted indignantly.
How dare they toss you into the air like that when you were sleeping so peacefully among your boyfriend's clothes?
Oh, you would never have thought of something like that, but you were hoping someone would come over so you could bite their hand.
The sound of an engine cutting off in the driveway caught the attention of the three people in the room.
Damian and Tim were sitting on a couch, far away from where she was. Even though the cat had already bitten them when they got careless trying to lift her off the floor, they didn’t want to take any more chances.
The three of them looked expectantly toward the door, hoping to see Zatanna so they could resolve this once and for all.
But what appeared was far worse, in Damian and Tim’s words.
An excited meow echoed through the room the moment Jason appeared in the doorway. The cat’s small, furry paws slid off the armchair and pushed off, landing on Jason’s chest, its claws digging in slightly to keep from falling.
“What the hell?” the newcomer grumbled. “Come here and get this thing out of here, you little demon.”
An annoyed growl escaped her lips. How dare he call you a thing?
Jason met her gaze.
Just like with Alfred, he furrowed his brow when he noticed the eyeliner on both her eyes, highlighting the color of her eyes that had him so smitten.
Jason shifted his gaze to both boys, then back to her. He stayed that way for a few seconds, until his brain managed to connect the dots.
“Doll?”
A meow was the answer he needed to confirm that it was his girlfriend.
“What have you done?” Jason asked the two men, his annoyance evident in his eyes and the tone of his voice. Meanwhile, he cradled his girlfriend in his arms as she purred, happy to be there.
“It was an accident, Todd.”
Tim also chimed in, trying to calm things down. “Zatanna is just a few minutes away; we were waiting for her.”
“Yeah…” Damian said. “We thought it was her at the door. What are you doing here, Todd? You were supposed to arrive tomorrow.”
“My mission ended early,” he replied simply. He looked at his girlfriend, transformed into a cat, sleeping comfortably on his arm. “And when I didn’t see my girlfriend at home, I figured she’d be here… but I didn’t expect to find her like this.”
With a hint of hesitation, he stroked her behind the ears, receiving a soft, contented purr in return.
“Stop laughing, Jason!” the woman pleaded, exasperated. “It’s not funny! Your brothers fed me nothing but tuna for two days! Do you have any idea how humiliating that is?”
“But you looked so cute.”
The woman slapped his chest with her hand, trying to get her boyfriend to stop laughing.
“Maybe we should get a cat,” he said out of the blue, “that way you’ll have a friend the next time this happens.”
She grumbled in annoyance.
“That’s it! I’m going to ask Zatanna to turn you into a fish, so I can flush you down the toilet!”
summary: Loving Damian Wayne wasn't as hard as loving Damian Al Ghul, grandson of Ra's Al Ghul himself and heir to the League of Assassins. But no one knew just how complicated it could be—until his girlfriend ended up paying a price she didn't deserve.
word count: 4.4k
warning(s): English is not my first language, not proofread, no use of y/n, angst, kinda hurt/comfort but not for long.
author note: btw, I don't know who created that draw of Damian, but if anyone knows, please let me know so I can give them proper credit!
Love was not something Damian could afford.
Ever since he was a baby, he had been taught that love was a weakness.
Loving and being loved were not part of his vocabulary. The closest he ever came was his mother’s love, but even that wasn’t the kind of love he needed.
Until life—or, as you liked to say, fate—finally decided to bring them together.
Their relationship wasn’t something that happened overnight. It had required work and patience on your part—even more than that.
Damian wasn’t the kind of person who could feel comfortable around strangers, and she had been no exception.
However, she hadn’t given up when he left her talking to herself on several occasions. There was something deep in her heart that made her feel sad every time she saw him alone everywhere at school.
From the moment she arrived, during every break, every class period, right up until dismissal, the girl’s eyes were on him and his loneliness.
As time went on, she realized that Damian wasn’t the kind of person who enjoyed noisy company. So she decided to start from scratch, keeping it simple and giving him space to relax in her presence.
She started simple and from the heart, with chocolate chip cookies. Even though most of them ended up burning the night before, forcing her to start over, she reminded herself it was for a good cause.
Every morning, even if the cookies were inside the Tupperware, you could smell the delicious aroma they gave off. The smell drew everyone in the room; everyone wanted to take a bite of those delicious chocolate chip cookies, but as soon as someone tried to take one and got swatted by the girl, everyone learned that those cookies belonged to only one person: Damian Wayne.
That was just the beginning.
Damian began accepting your gifts, even if they weren’t as exquisite as Alfred’s. At least they were… acceptable.
In the blink of an eye, the two of you were at each other’s houses, working on group projects or spending every hour of the school day together.
“Have you ever ridden the bus?” asked his new friend.
They were both finishing up their latest assignment. It had become a habit that, since she had free rein to choose her partner, she would show up by his side with a smile, as if she’d found her favorite introvert in an adoption store.
On the table were various snacks, courtesy of Alfred, along with a pitcher of juice.
“No.”
He replied simply so that her attention would return to the work and she wouldn’t get distracted by trivialities.
“Hmm,” she murmured thoughtfully. “Well, sometimes the drivers leave the door open while the bus is moving. You know, ”Damian had no idea what she was talking about, but he didn't deny it anyway," when the bus approaches your stop, you go up to the door to let them know in advance that you're getting off. But sometimes they don’t close the door after the previous stop, and that’s when your intrusive thoughts about jumping while the bus is moving come in.”
Damian’s hand stopped writing. He frowned in disbelief at her confession and looked at her in dismay, while she refocused her attention, humming a song, on the project as if she hadn’t just said something troubling.
Damian blinked once. Then again. And again. Until he had an idea.
He would make sure Alfred included her on the round trip to school, or else he would get a driver for her. Of one thing he was sure: she would never get on a bus again. Or at least not alone.
Even in the face of the silly things you might say when you were bored or needed to fill the awkward silences, no spell, blow, or bruise could stop his heart from beating differently for her.
It had probably been her smile; or how her eyes always sparkled when they spotted him in the crowd; or how she had learned to love him regardless of who he was or the legacy he carried.
Their confession of love?
It was a bit strange…
It had been after a gala hosted by the Waynes. Damian still remembers it to this day.
He remembered seeing her come down the stairs, after getting ready at Wayne Manor, the emerald-colored dress highlighting her figure, her body adorned with golden jewelry, and her shiny hair half-up, adorned with a small golden butterfly.
“You look beautiful,” he exclaimed aloud.
That confession brought a genuine smile to her face, lighting it up even more.
The night passed quietly. There were no emergency calls for Gotham’s vigilantes that night.
Damian’s hands fit perfectly around her waist. Meanwhile, her hands gently touched his shoulders and hands.
It seemed like a perfect night, as they both silently encouraged the love they felt for each other to grow in their hearts.
Until he happened.
In a moment of carelessness, the son of an important, long-established Gotham family pulled her away from Damian to ask her to dance.
One dance turned into two, then three, until, politely, she exclaimed that she had to leave the gala, seeing that her family was waiting for her.
A lie.
Her family didn’t care about those dances. When it came to donating, they were happy to oblige, but pretending to have fun with people who talked about themselves and their achievements? No, thank you.
For the rest of the night, Damian hadn’t been able to hide his displeasure completely. His answers were short and curt, gradually dampening the excitement the girl felt about spending time with him that night.
Soon, the ballroom was empty. The only lights on were those in the second-floor hallway and a few in the rooms.
“Damian?”
The girl’s voice broke the silence in Damian’s room.
Still wearing her emerald dress, her hair tousled, she approached him until she was a safe distance away.
“What’s wrong with you? Is everything okay?”
“I’m perfectly fine,” he replied listlessly, but with a hint of sarcasm.
“Why shouldn’t I believe you?” she asked sarcastically, moving closer.
She sat down beside him, sinking into the comfort of the mattress.
“Come on, you can talk to me,” she insisted. “We were having such a good time, and then… It’s like we’re back to when we first met.”
“Maybe now you can use your tactics and win over that daddy’s boy.”
The girl frowned at the comment.
“What are you—?” A sudden silence filled the room. “Oh, Damian.”
A soft laugh broke the boy’s composure.
“Are you jealous of him?” she asked, amused.
Damian exhaled sharply.
“Why would I be? Who is he, compared to me?” Although Damian’s tone was cutting, the girl didn’t wipe the amused smile off her face. “You could go back and dance with him all night, and he’d still be a nobody.”
“I danced with him out of courtesy, Damian,” she replied matter-of-factly. “Besides, you’d gone off with your father to greet a couple of people. I was going to be bored until you got back.”
“And the other two? Were you mesmerized by his ugliness?”
The woman bit her lip, trying to hold back a laugh.
“That was good,” she murmured, nodding. “But no. You know I still have a problem saying no to people.”
Damian looked away from her.
But the girl wasn’t going to give up on getting back the Damian she’d worked so hard to win over.
She took his hand in hers, accepting the warmth radiating from his body.
“Damian,” she said, cupping his chin with her other hand, forcing him to meet her gaze again.
If there was one thing that remained from the first time she’d met him, it was how easily she could lose herself in the green of his eyes.
They conveyed not only wisdom and experience, but also that Damian was capable of loving uniquely and exquisitely.
His eyes had an incredible ability to leave her speechless. They silenced any words she’d formed in her head.
Damian raised an eyebrow when he didn’t hear a single word come out of her mouth.
That brought her back to reality for a moment, causing her to blink once to snap out of her reverie.
“Goddammit,” she muttered to herself.
Without a second thought—not wanting doubts and fears to creep in—she pressed her lips against his. With Damian’s body just inches from hers, she felt him tense at the action.
Finally realizing the gravity of her actions, she pulled away slowly and opened her eyes gradually, meeting Damian’s gaze as he watched her, slightly flushed.
Noticing the faint trace of fear beginning to form in the girl’s eyes, Damian took her cheek in his hand and pulled her into another kiss, where they allowed themselves to relax and explore each other’s mouths.
“If you’re going to start something, you have to do it right,” he murmured as soon as they parted.
Their foreheads were pressed together, embracing the intimate moment created just minutes ago.
The woman laughed softly.
Of course, Damian would say that after their first kiss.
“I know you prefer to take charge of that.”
The boy raised one corner of his mouth and kissed her again, taking all the time in the world. One of his hands rested on her cheek, and the other wrapped around her waist, pulling her body close to his.
A little over a year had passed since that moment that marked the beginning of their relationship.
Both were about to turn twenty when chaos broke out.
Ever since Damian decided to move to Gotham with his father, Talia had always kept tabs on her son’s life and his friends—one way or another.
When she found out her son was in a relationship with a civilian, it wasn’t exactly something she considered a good thing.
Talia believed that this relationship, these feelings, would cloud Damian’s judgment and make him abandon his life’s purpose.
That is why things had come to this: His girlfriend kidnapped on Talia’s orders, and Damian on his way to Nanda Parbat to rescue her.
Damian wasn’t stupid, but he had let his guard down when it came to his mother and her lessons—even as an adult.
Talia believed Damian needed to get his priorities back on track, and the best way to do that was to scare him.
However, things didn’t turn out the way either of them expected.
“So… you must be my son’s girlfriend.”
The young woman lifted her head, meeting her boyfriend’s mother's eyes. Standing before her was a tall, slender, and beautiful woman, but beyond her eyes, one could sense the danger that lurked within her soul.
It was as if she were warning you not to approach and to run in the opposite direction.
Talia Al Ghul.
The name echoed in her head.
Damian had told her about her, and about his life before Gotham. Once Robin’s secret was revealed, he decided the right thing to do was to be honest about everything—the good and the bad—and that included his life before becoming Robin.
“Hmm,” Talia murmured to herself, taking her time to examine her face in detail. “I see my son has good taste. You’re quite beautiful. But that isn’t always important.”
“What do you want?” the girl asked. “I doubt it’s money in exchange for my ransom.”
The two of them were alone in a room. The heat radiated from the floor. The walls were perfectly decorated, with only the bare essentials, but that didn’t make it any less elegant. The colors chosen were simple, but black, gold, and emerald green predominated, which answered the girl’s question about why her boyfriend was so obsessed with that color.
“It’s not something we need,” Talia replied simply, pacing the room while the girl sat on one of the single beds. “But more wealth never hurts, am I wrong?”
Talia raised an eyebrow when she received no answer.
“However, no,” she answered the question. “My son is forgetting who he is and who he will be in the near future.”
“So you’re blaming me,” she surmised, where her boyfriend’s mother’s words were leading.
“That’s right.”
The girl nodded slightly, letting her continue with her explanation.
“You’re here to remind him of his duty.”
The younger woman frowned at the remark. She looked up just enough to see her. Remind him?
“Are you going to kill me to prove your point? Because if so, I have a few suggestions.” Talia frowned, and both of them fell into a brief silence. “Although, come to think of it, I don’t think there are any buses around here.”
The older woman shook her head, snapping out of her confusion.
“I’m not going to kill you,” she clarified. “We’ll just work together to… set my son straight.”
“Together?”
The hours passed in silence.
The girl wasn't sure what time it was, but judging by the darkness that was beginning to envelop the room even more, she assumed it was nighttime.
From the contrast in light outside the room, she could tell that guards were stationed outside to prevent anyone from entering or leaving.
The door burst open, and two men entered. Their faces were covered by black garments, except for their eyes.
Each grabbed one of the girl’s arms, forcing her to stand up and start walking.
“Hey, hey!” she exclaimed, raising her voice higher and higher. “Who do you think you are, touching me? Let me go!”
Amid the girl’s struggles, the men finally made their way to the main hall, where Talia was waiting for them.
“You sure took your time,” she remarked dismissively, walking over to where the young woman stood.
Both men stepped away from them, and a new one approached—under Talia’s silent orders—and took the girl in his hands.
“We’re sorry,” one of them apologized on behalf of both. “But she bites.”
If it weren’t for the gloves covering his hands, Talia would have been able to see the teeth marks on the men.
The woman glanced back at the girl over her shoulder.
“What?” the girl asked, feigning innocence. “I told you not to touch me. I warned you. It wasn’t like it came as a surprise.”
Talia shook her head and sighed.
“Stay alert. My son will be here soon. You know what to do.”
The man’s grip on the girl’s arms tightened. With one arm, he seized both her wrists, while with the other he drew a dagger from his belt.
The young woman’s eyes widened in surprise as she felt the cold metal against her neck.
That wasn’t part of the deal.
A deal she had never agreed to.
She tried to wriggle from side to side, trying to break free from his grip or at least move away from the weapon; but there was no way.
The massive doors swung open abruptly. The figure of Damian, dressed in his Robin costume—except for the domino mask—was breathing heavily, his gaze fixed on his mother.
“Son,” the woman greeted him. “It’s good to know you’re still in one piece.”
Behind the boy lay a trail of unconscious people, and the rest who were still conscious were moaning from the ground.
Damian remained silent, a katana in one hand. His gaze shifted momentarily to his girlfriend, who was in the hands of one of them. Noticing the glint of the dagger against his girlfriend’s neck, he tightened his grip on the katana.
“You shouldn’t have brought her.”
There was a deep line of tension etched across his son’s jaw. His body was also rigid and tense as he assessed the situation in the room, taking his time to think of the best way to keep her out of reach of anyone but him.
Damian made eye contact with the man.
“Let her go.”
However, it was to no avail.
The man didn’t bat an eye. He didn’t move a single muscle in his body; as if Damian’s orders—the future leader of the League—were of no consequence.
“See, Damian?”
He turned his gaze back to his mother.
“None of them will listen to the orders you have to give. You’ve lost your focus; you’ve forgotten what you were trained for. And they know it.” His mother clasped her hands behind her back. “They know you don’t have enough power to be the leader the League needs.”
“Mother,” Damian clamped his mouth shut. He tried to ask. He wanted to ask. But Damian Al Ghul did not beg. “I will resume my training in the League if necessary. It’s not her fault.”
Talia smiled imperceptibly.
“It will take you quite some time to regain that level, Damian.”
Damian’s tense expression didn’t change. He didn’t even blink under his mother’s gaze.
Talia spoke again. “Move the dagger away from her neck.”
In the blink of an eye, the dagger moved away from the girl’s neck. His girlfriend took a deep breath, unaware that she had forgotten to breathe for a few minutes.
“Block her body from Damian’s view.”
Soon, his girlfriend’s figure disappeared beneath the man’s massive frame.
“Press the dagger into his stomach,” she continued without pausing to breathe. “Stop.”
In that split second it took his mother to give the order to stop, his breath caught in his throat. From head to toe, his body went numb. There were limbs he could no longer feel, and others that felt as if they were floating.
“Do you see it, Damian?” his mother asked. “That is power. The power you’ve lost while you’ve been with her.”
There was no reply.
There was no scream.
No arguments.
All it took was a gasping breath and the glint of the shiny dagger covered in red to put an end to that talk of power.
Damian’s mind went blank.
Talia’s muffled voice echoed in his head as he moved toward his girlfriend.
“I told you to stop!” she exclaimed angrily.
Damian’s hands pulled his cape from his back. He took his girlfriend in his arms and laid her down on the ground. He pressed the cape against the wound that kept staining everything crimson.
“The plan wasn’t to hurt her.”
“Beloved,” The nickname slipped out of his mouth in a sigh.
The girl was breathing heavily, her eyes darting restlessly, betraying the fear she felt.
Okay. She used to joke about her intrusive thoughts of jumping off a moving bus. But she didn’t want to die. Not now. Not like this.
Reality hit her like a bucket of ice water.
Damian’s pressure wasn’t enough. She could feel her clothes getting wet with blood.
“You’re going to be okay,” the boy murmured. Although the comment was meant to reassure her, it was also meant to reassure him. “You’re going to be okay, beloved. Breathe, please.”
“Damian,” his girlfriend sobbed, choking on her words.
Damian’s emerald eyes met hers. His girlfriend had always been good at reading the emotions he kept hidden, even in that moment.
Damian was scared.
He knew the pressure on the wound wasn’t enough. His hands trembled as his mind filled with fear. His eyes glazed over with every passing second; with every second that his girlfriend wasn’t breathing properly or as her fear grew relentlessly.
“Dami…,” she sobbed again. “I don’t want to die. Please, I don’t want to die. My parents…”
Damian swallowed hard. He couldn’t get that huge lump out of his throat.
“You’re not going to die. I won’t let that happen.”
She died.
She died in her boyfriend's arms, while he begged her not to leave him.
Ever since her chest stopped rising, Damian hadn’t uttered a single word. Much less had he let go of his girlfriend’s body, which was growing cold beneath his touch.
The knot grew tighter.
And from dwelling so much on his fears, they came true.
She was dead because of him.
Because of his family.
Because of who he was and who he was supposed to be.
She had paid a price that wasn’t hers to pay. A price that wasn’t her responsibility.
“Damian.”
His mother’s voice echoed in his ears.
As his only response, he pulled his girlfriend’s body closer to him. As if his mother speaking could cause him more pain than she had already inflicted.
His eyes slowly fell upon the girl’s face. Her beautiful, closed eyes denied him a glimpse of the color he had fallen in love with. Her cheeks, which were always adorned with a rosy hue, had lost their color.
How could he have let that happen?
She had been the only person who had been able to see past Robin, past the fact that he was an Al Ghul, a Wayne. She had seen him for who he really was.
And now there was no one who would.
And there wouldn't be anyone who would, either.
She had died because of the League.
Because of something he was supposed to lead.
She died far from everything she knew. Far from her family.
She died in his arms, with him being the only thing that could bring her comfort.
There was nothing that could bring back her warmth. He would never again see her eyes shine every time they saw him enter a room. He would never again hear her laughter every time he kissed her.
Nothing could bring her back.
Nothing.
Damian should have listened. He should have stopped at the first person who told him no. He should have left behind his fear of being alone.
But he couldn’t.
He was aware of what it would do to her. He was aware of what he would have to do once she returned.
But as soon as his girlfriend’s body sank into the depths of the Lazarus Pit, he should have known things wouldn’t turn out as he expected.
He had seen his grandfather return so many times that he already knew the procedure.
Not this time.
As she sank, the pit disappeared with her. The green liquid vanished, fading into the air, until the only thing visible was her in a huge empty tank.
"No," he murmured.
His body moved quickly, going down to where she was.
"No, no, no."
The plan had not gone as he expected.
She hadn’t risen from the depths with anger. With the rage of being revived and brought back into a ruthless world.
No. She had returned with something worse than anger.
"It seems the Lazarus Pit was absorbed into her body," exclaimed Batman. After they realized the Pit had brought her back to the world of the living, there was a price to be paid for it. "After seeing what happened with Damian, no one who has been exposed to the Pit should have physical contact with her."
Damian frowned and clenched his jaw at his father’s words.
Both he and his girlfriend had returned to Gotham. Including his mother.
The girl was in the Batcave’s stretcher, connected to a machine that revealed her heart was beating again.
However, as soon as Damian heard that sound, his hands went directly to his girlfriend’s; but as soon as he touched them, parts of his soul tore away from his body. They tore away as if someone was peeling off layer by layer, opening every wound the Pit had closed.
"You can’t ask me that," the boy exclaimed. If it hadn’t been for Alfred tending to his wounds that had begun to open, he would have stood up abruptly. "She’s my girlfriend."
"You’ve been exposed to the Pit, Damian," his father replied. "And apparently she absorbs everything the Pit has touched. If you remain under her touch, you could die. She will take what the Pit gave you."
"Then let her take it."
Bruce shook his head.
"You should have listened when we told you the Pit wasn’t the answer. You should have left things as they were."
"She’s my girlfriend!" The anger in his voice was evident.
"I’m sorry, son," Bruce replied.
He really was sorry. Bruce had seen the happiness she brought to his son. He had seen how he opened up and allowed himself to be a normal teenager.
“Beloved.”
“No,” murmured the girl. “Don’t come closer, please.”
A few minutes after waking up confused, under the Batcave’s light, Bruce explained what had happened, and what had happened to her.
“Beloved, you won’t hurt me.”
“You don’t know that, Damian.”
The woman looked at both her hands.
She didn’t want to admit it, but they felt different. She felt different.
“You should have let me die.”
Damian frowned, annoyance growing in his chest at her confession.
“Don’t say that. I wasn’t going to let you go knowing I had the chance to bring you back. You said it yourself, you didn’t want to die.”
“This is worse than dying, Damian,” she whispered.
The boy tried to approach her again.
His chest hurt at seeing her suffering. All he wanted to do was wrap her in his arms and whisper in her ear that everything would be okay; that they would find a solution, and everything would go back to how it was before.
But he couldn’t do it.
“I told you not to come closer!”
Damian stepped back at her scream. His chest tightened seeing her so distressed because of him.
“Why can’t you see it from my point of view?” she inquired, looking at him with tearful eyes, hurt to be in that situation. “I love you, Damian,” she whispered. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
“But… do you know what it’s like to know I can never kiss or touch you again, knowing I could kill you in the process? Even if it’s an accident.”
“We’ll find a solution.”
She smiled slightly, bitterly. “And what if there isn’t one?”
Damian remained silent.
“I love you, but I can’t be with you knowing I’ll never be able to kiss you without hurting you in the process.”
“You must be thrilled,” the girl’s voice reached Talia’s ears. “Now Damian has a clear path to become what you want him to be.”
Both were alone. Far from curious eyes and ears.
Talia was good at hiding what she felt. Hiding the emotions that could work against her.
However, she didn’t, and the girl noticed it.
But she didn’t care.
She didn’t care what Talia thought. She didn’t care if she felt guilty or not. She didn’t care if she felt remorse.
In her eyes, she was to blame for everything.
Talia got what she wanted.
Damian would become the leader of the League of Assassins.
She was doomed to have abilities she never wanted. To never again have the man she loved.
And that was the aftermath of loving Damian Al Ghul.
pairing: jason todd x fem! reader, platonic!damian wayne x fem!reader, platonic!tim drake x fem!reader
summary: It was supposed to be a routine patrol, nothing out of the ordinary. Well, things don't always go as planned. Now Damian and Tim had to keep Jason from finding out that his girlfriend had been turned into a cat, a cute, fluffly cat.
word count: 1.2k
warning(s): English is not my first language, not proofread, no use of y/n.
Silence and tension hung heavy in the Batcave. It had been over half an hour since the small group had returned from their patrol. The streets of Gotham had finally reached that peak of silence just before dawn.
“He’s going to kill us.”
“He won’t kill us if he doesn’t find out about this.”
Damian’s statement put Tim’s fears to rest; Tim’s hair was tousled, and he had a twitch in his eye from the stress that had built up in just a few minutes.
A growl sounded below them.
They both looked down. A pair of piercing eyes glared at them angrily.
“And you won’t tell him about this.”
Another growl was heard, but this time two fangs were visible.
“Oh, God,” Tim exclaimed, pulling off his mask and pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Jason is going to kill us.”
“Todd won’t find out.”
“And how can you be so sure of that? Look at her!” he said, pointing with both hands at the cat in front of them. “They turned her into a cat, and we don’t know how to reverse it!”
“Drake,” Damian exclaimed irritably. “Jason won’t be back for another two days; we have more than enough time to figure this out.” Damian’s gaze shifted to the white-furred animal with black spots. “Maybe we can bribe her with tuna.”
The cat hissed at what she considered a degrading comment about tuna.
“Tt. Calm down. We’ll call Zatanna first thing tomorrow and sort this out.”
Tim sighed wearily and nodded at Damian’s words.
“It’d be best if you stayed tonight. It’ll be easier… for everyone.”
Ever since Bruce was a child, it had been perfectly normal to see Alfred walking through the hallways of Wayne Manor, cleaning and tidying things up.
What wasn't a common sight, however, was a cat trying to reach the doorknob of one of the manor's many doors, trying to open it.
Alfred let out a sigh.
“Master Damian really needs to start exercising some self-control around animals.”
With patience and grace, he made his way toward the door, while the cat waited for the butler. Alfred turned the doorknob, and the animal wasted no time in entering the room.
“I should remind Master Jason to tidy his room,” he muttered to himself. “Or at least ask him to let me do it.”
As the butler thought aloud, his gaze never left the cat, which was slipping between Jason’s clothes on the bed.
With her tiny paws, she gathered the clothes together, and when she decided she’d had enough, she lay down on top of them, relaxing her little body as if letting out a sigh with her body language.
Alfred’s eyebrows shot up in a frown. “Interesting.”
The man couldn't help but notice the strange detail around the cat's eyes. A perfect line around each eye, strangely reminding him of Jason's girlfriend and the eyeliner she wore every time they met.
Not wanting to get involved in another vigilante problem, he decided to simply pretend he hadn’t seen anything.
He left the door ajar, just enough so that Jason’s girlfriend could come and go freely from the room.
Tim and Damian were running all over the manor, searching for the sudden—and temporary—member of the family.
“Where is she?!”
As they frantically rushed through the rooms, they disrupted all the order Alfred had worked so hard to maintain.
When they reached the second floor, they stopped abruptly upon seeing Alfred.
“Alfred, by any chance haven’t you—?”
“Don’t finish that question, Master Tim,” he said wearily. “What you’re looking for should be in Master Jason’s room.”
Without another word, the butler left, leaving the two young men alone in the long hallway. And without wasting any more time, they both headed for Jason’s room.
“Can you see her?”
They both started moving around the room, not caring if they made a mess of it. That was the last thing on their minds.
“Where the hell did she go?”
Tim picked up the pile of clothes on the bed and carelessly tossed it onto the floor so he could search through the sheets.
A loud meow of surprise and indignation echoed through the room.
Both boys turned their heads toward the source of the sound.
Two pointed black ears poked out from among the clothes, and soon a white body covered in black spots appeared.
“I’m sorry,” Tim apologized, murmuring your name.
The cat snorted indignantly.
How dare they toss you into the air like that when you were sleeping so peacefully among your boyfriend's clothes?
Oh, you would never have thought of something like that, but you were hoping someone would come over so you could bite their hand.
The sound of an engine cutting off in the driveway caught the attention of the three people in the room.
Damian and Tim were sitting on a couch, far away from where she was. Even though the cat had already bitten them when they got careless trying to lift her off the floor, they didn’t want to take any more chances.
The three of them looked expectantly toward the door, hoping to see Zatanna so they could resolve this once and for all.
But what appeared was far worse, in Damian and Tim’s words.
An excited meow echoed through the room the moment Jason appeared in the doorway. The cat’s small, furry paws slid off the armchair and pushed off, landing on Jason’s chest, its claws digging in slightly to keep from falling.
“What the hell?” the newcomer grumbled. “Come here and get this thing out of here, you little demon.”
An annoyed growl escaped her lips. How dare he call you a thing?
Jason met her gaze.
Just like with Alfred, he furrowed his brow when he noticed the eyeliner on both her eyes, highlighting the color of her eyes that had him so smitten.
Jason shifted his gaze to both boys, then back to her. He stayed that way for a few seconds, until his brain managed to connect the dots.
“Doll?”
A meow was the answer he needed to confirm that it was his girlfriend.
“What have you done?” Jason asked the two men, his annoyance evident in his eyes and the tone of his voice. Meanwhile, he cradled his girlfriend in his arms as she purred, happy to be there.
“It was an accident, Todd.”
Tim also chimed in, trying to calm things down. “Zatanna is just a few minutes away; we were waiting for her.”
“Yeah…” Damian said. “We thought it was her at the door. What are you doing here, Todd? You were supposed to arrive tomorrow.”
“My mission ended early,” he replied simply. He looked at his girlfriend, transformed into a cat, sleeping comfortably on his arm. “And when I didn’t see my girlfriend at home, I figured she’d be here… but I didn’t expect to find her like this.”
With a hint of hesitation, he stroked her behind the ears, receiving a soft, contented purr in return.
“Stop laughing, Jason!” the woman pleaded, exasperated. “It’s not funny! Your brothers fed me nothing but tuna for two days! Do you have any idea how humiliating that is?”
“But you looked so cute.”
The woman slapped his chest with her hand, trying to get her boyfriend to stop laughing.
“Maybe we should get a cat,” he said out of the blue, “that way you’ll have a friend the next time this happens.”
She grumbled in annoyance.
“That’s it! I’m going to ask Zatanna to turn you into a fish, so I can flush you down the toilet!”
summary: As Cupid’s daughter, it was your responsibility to ensure that love would be revived and endure in Gotham. However, when Poison Ivy releases a love pollen onto Gotham’s dark and cold streets, your identity is put at risk as you strive to resolve the situation.
pairing: agep up!damian wayne x cupid's daughter!reader
word count: 2.4k
warning(s): English is not my first language, no use of y/n, it is mentioned that the reader has a tuft of pink hair. kinda trash idk.
When it comes to love, there are two types of people: dreamers and realists.
Dreamers have believed in love for as long as they can remember. They love without a second thought, and they do so with all their heart. They aren’t afraid to show it or to accept it.
On the other hand, realists had either loved at some point, or love had never been an option in their lives from the very beginning. However, whatever the reason, there was no room in their hearts for another person.
Even so, love always found its way to both of them, one way or another.
“Are you waiting for them to start yelling at each other?”
You chuckled softly, but you didn’t turn your head to look at the person next to you.
“Shh,” you whispered. You moved closer to him, feeling the heat radiating from him without even touching his body. “Just watch.”
Damian turned his eyes toward where you were looking.
“What am I supposed to see?”
A small smile formed on your face. Your eyes sparkled as you watched the scene unfold before you.
“A week and a half ago, there was a misunderstanding between them,” you began to explain. “And instead of talking it out, they decided to let pride and fear get the better of them.”
Damian frowned slightly, listening intently to what you were saying. His gaze remained fixed on the couple. They were holding hands and seemed to be having a deep conversation about what their argument might have been about.
“What did you do?”
The whole time his friend had been talking, she hadn’t once mentioned how they’d ended up where they were now. And that could only mean one thing: you’d interfered.
“What are you talking about?” you asked innocently.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t pretend you don’t.”
In all the years they’d known each other, Damian had learned to read you like a book. He knew perfectly well that, when it came to love, you always found a way to interfere and make things work out for others.
Damian raised an eyebrow, and that alone was enough to make you confess.
You let out a sigh.
“I might have overheard, by accident, the reason for their misunderstanding,” you said, your cheeks turning pink. “But I couldn’t let them suffer because they weren’t communicating, Dami!”
The boy shook his head.
“How many times do I have to tell you not to meddle in other people’s problems?”
“Sometimes love needs a little push,” you replied happily, batting your eyelashes innocently. “You’d understand if you’d just let me—”
“No.”
Damian’s quick refusal made your lips curl into a pout. Ever since you and Damian had become friends, your need to help him find someone to love had grown steadily.
As you got to know each layer of him, you knew that he, too, deserved to love and be loved.
“But…”
“I said no.” The answer slipped out abruptly before he could stop it. Damian caught the look of disappointment that crossed your face. He exhaled deeply and closed his eyes briefly. “There’s no need for you to find someone for me. I’m fine just the way I am, qalbi.”
“Okay,” you murmured. “You know that whenever you want my help, I’ll be there for whatever you need, right?”
The left corner of Damian’s lips lifted imperceptibly. He turned to look at your profile, observing the pink strand that blended with the natural color of your hair.
Sometimes he wondered how someone dressed in bright colors, with sparkling eyes, a loving smile, and a fun personality, could have won his heart so completely.
“You should find something more entertaining to do in that time. Otherwise, you’ll be bored for eternity.”
You simply smiled in response.
You were grateful that Damian wasn’t interested in love just yet. Because that meant your heart would last a little longer without breaking at the thought of seeing him love someone else.
But that day would come eventually, and as Cupid’s daughter, it was your responsibility to help him find love. Even if you weren’t the one he ended up loving.
The chaos began gradually.
The pollen spread slowly through the streets, drifting through the night mist. It slipped into small nooks and crannies—any space large enough to invade the city’s homes.
While people slept, their systems were invaded by the pollen. Their minds were shrouded in a pink haze, causing them to fall in love not only with the first thing they saw, but also with the first thing they dreamed of or thought about.
The ones who first noticed that something was wrong were Gotham’s vigilantes.
Batman’s calculating eyes scanned the streets. The first victims took to the streets, searching for the people they thought they loved; and within minutes, a large portion of the city was running in panic through the streets, searching for their loved ones.
“Everyone,” Batman’s deep voice drowned out the commands of the rest of his family. “Gas masks. Now.”
The rest, who were also aware of what was happening, quickly obeyed the order.
“What’s going on?” Robin asked.
“Poison Ivy has released some pollen into the streets,” he replied.
No one asked what kind of pollen it was. No one had ever seen anything like it before.
This new type of pollen didn’t seem to make people violent or fearful of something that didn’t exist, but rather… it created a new kind of chaos. A calm one.
“There are people… kissing?” Spoiler’s voice drowned out the commands.
New hurried footsteps were heard on the street. Robin’s gaze fell on a familiar figure, and his heart tightened with worry.
There, surrounded by a mist of love, you stood. With your messy pink-tinged hair, your pink pajamas, and matching furry slippers, you stood out against the dark streets.
Your gaze wandered to every couple around you.
Some displayed a healthy, loving obsession with their partner. Others fought for attention. Others accepted that love, and in the rest, you could sense the discomfort caused by the attention they were receiving.
“Oh no.”
Robin collapsed right in front of you. The rest of the Bat-family followed suit.
“You’d better go inside. Now.”
You shook your head, ignoring his sudden appearance. “I can’t.”
Your eyes met the domino mask of Gotham’s youngest vigilante.
“This is because of a love pollen,” you announced in a low voice, flatly refusing to follow Robin’s orders. “I can’t just leave this like this!”
“A what now?”
Your worried gaze fell on Red Robin, who had asked the question. With your hands, you pointed to the behavior of the people around you, as if it were the most obvious thing of the night.
“Love pollen,” you replied, observing the people who weren’t paying attention to the group of superheroes, but rather to the person with the pollen who had hypnotized them.
“How do you know what kind of pollen it is?” Batman’s voice sent a chill down your spine.
You swallowed hard in the face of the enormous, intimidating figure.
“Only pollen can create an obsession like that.” Damian’s gaze drifted to your hands, where you were fidgeting with your fingers in a nervous tic. “Look at them.”
“So if it’s pollen, we must find an antidote,” Red Robin’s voice boomed in their ears.
“You can’t,” you added in a low voice, halting the start of a plan. “There is no counter-spell or antidote that can interfere with love.”
The three of them watched as your expression shifted from one of thoughtfulness to one where your eyebrows shot up and your mouth opened slightly as you let out a sound of joy.
“But I know how!” You flashed a huge smile at the guards, as if from now on you were a team.
Batman raised an eyebrow beneath his mask.
“Follow me.”
Soon, following the supposed stranger who actually spent her afternoons at Wayne Manor, they found themselves in the beautiful backyard of the girl’s house.
“So…,” Red Robin’s voice broke the silence of the night. “Where’s the antidote?”
In your hands, now covered by gloves, you held a silver tray. “There is no antidote, but there is something that can help you.”
With no time to lose, you turned your back on the three of them. You knelt on the cold grass and, with a pair of scissors, began cutting white roses.
“Love is not something you can fight or stop. It’s a force of nature,” the white roses began to pile up on the silver tray. “But there are many kinds of love: passionate love, familial love, the love of friendship, unconditional love, and true love.”
With the tray full of flowers—enough to cover most of the citizens for the time being—you handed it to Batman.
“These are mood roses. They change color depending on the kind of love the recipient truly feels, so it’s best to wear gloves when handing them out.”
Damian looked at the flowers and turned his gaze to the young woman.
“How do you know about these things?”
The girl pursed her lips. A sense of unease washed over her.
“I’m… I’m a cherub,” you closed your eyes, knowing from the start how ridiculous what you were about to say would sound. “My dad is Cupid. That’s how I know this will work. Only cherubs can grow this kind of flower.”
Realizing that they were standing stiffly and in silence, you spoke again.
“Look, I know it sounds ridiculous, but you’d better start moving before this obsession turns into something… hard to undo.”
Batman snapped out of his own daze and nodded. Within seconds he had left the place, knowing that both of his children would follow him, along with the rest of the flowers.
“When you say you’re Cupid’s daughter,” your gaze fell on Red Robin, “do you also make two people fall in love out of nowhere?”
“No,” she laughed softly. “It doesn’t work that way. I help give them that little push they need to be together, but I can’t create love between two people if neither of them feels anything for the other.”
Your attention shifted to the younger one, expecting him to ask you a question too, but he didn’t. His attention was completely focused on your words.
Now he understood why you had been so insistent on helping him find someone he was interested in. You could help him make sure the other person realized how he felt.
It was late at night, just a few hours before dawn, when a soft tapping sound came from your window.
With your hair tousled and half asleep, you lifted your head to see if you would hear that sound again.
And so it was.
Your feet touched the cold wood as you walked toward the window. Your hands grabbed each end of the curtain, pulling it wide open to reveal the youngest of the vigilantes outside.
“Robin?”
You unlocked the window, letting him into the room.
“What are you doing here? Didn’t the flowers work?”
The watchman remained silent for a few seconds.
After seeing what the flowers did, Damian realized that the flowers could help him, too. The whole way there, all he could think about was that he would finally be able to know what you were feeling. But he knew he should have thought of something else because now his brain had shut down just from seeing you.
Believing that would make the explanation easier, one of his hands reached for the mask and slowly removed it, revealing those bright green eyes and the bat-shaped eyebrows you loved so much.
“Oh. My. Damian? What?”
You moved closer to him. Close enough to catch the scent of his expensive cologne, the smell of flowers, and the streets of Gotham that clung to him.
“I’m not good at expressing how I feel, and you know that,” his voice sounded tired and hoarse from the night. “But... I want to. No. I need to know how you feel about me.”
Your eyebrows shot up at that. Your heart began to pound hard and irregularly. Your ears were ringing, making you dizzy.
“I need to know if…”
A sigh escaped his lips. His bare right hand, which had been hidden behind his back, held one of the flowers.
“There is no day, no moment, when you do not take hold of my thoughts, my worries, and my affection.”
He extended his arm, waiting for you to take the flower in your hands, and that was when your heart squeezed.
“Damian…”
“Take the flower, qalbi.”
“Damian, I’m a cherub.”
The pain of admitting those words was evident in your voice. Most of the time, it was something you thought of with pride, but now…
“If I take that flower, you might not like the answer it brings.”
“You don’t know that.” A silence settled between them. “Please.”
With trembling fingers, you took it.
Both of you gazed intently at the flower.
Both of you held the flower. Damian’s hand covered yours, offering you warmth.
Soon a sob escaped your lips as the flower changed color. Damian’s eyes shot toward yours.
“What does it mean?”
You opened your mouth to answer, but the only thing that came out was something else.
“I don’t understand.”
“Hayati, what does it mean?”
Your eyes met Damian’s. A look of concern flashed across his face the moment he saw your tear-filled eyes.
His left hand cupped your cheek, and his thumb moved in circles, seeking to offer you comfort.
“We cherubs must not interfere with the destinies of others,” you admitted. “I thought… I thought I should let yours unfold like everyone else’s, but…”
Your gaze returned to the flower, and you smiled.
“Yellow means friendship. Red means romance. And pink… pink means true love.”
You let the feeling and the truth settle in your chest and your heart.
“It means we’re meant to be together.”
A smile began to form on Damian’s face. This was what he deeply and selfishly longed for—that no one but you would be in his life. And the pink color of the flower confirmed that this selfish feeling was simply the way it was meant to be.
“Since when have you…?”
“You know, for a cherub, you’re pretty clueless when it comes to realizing that someone loves you.”
You let out a dramatic sigh.
“Shut your mouth, asshole.”
With smiles on both their faces, their lips met, plunging into a deep sea of long-suppressed feelings and affection.
summary: Jason knew when you were having a stressful day, and he just wanted to distract his partner at all costs. But things don't always go as planned.
word count: 1.8k
warning(s): English is not my first language, not proofread, no use of y/n.
The apartment was lit by the dim light of the lamps in the living room. The soft purring of the cat you and Jason shared, and the program playing on the television, were the only sounds filling the room.
It was around eleven o'clock at night. Jason was still out on patrol with one of his brothers, or so you assumed when you arrived and found only your cat at the door to greet you.
The usual thing would have been for both of them to be behind the door as soon as they heard the keys jingling. Salem in Jason's arms, ready to receive the kisses and baby talk that his owner used only for him.
A small meow was heard when the ringtone interrupted the peace of the place. You chuckled. Jason used to complain about any interruption between the moments he spent with you.
“I know,” you laughed, taking Salem into your arms. The little animal resumed purring, clinging to your shoulder: “But we have to answer; it could be Dad.”
Jason had a habit of talking to Salem as if the two were his parents. And you were. Even so, the cat had become so accustomed to it that if either of you used his real name, Salem didn't know who you were talking about.
The cell phone vibrated on the kitchen counter, waiting for someone to answer the call. One of your hands grabbed the device and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
Unknown number.
Your eyes darted around the kitchen, wondering whether or not it was wise to answer.
With your boyfriend's night job and his warnings, you knew it wasn't wise to answer the call, especially when you were alone. Jason had programmed all the possible numbers of his family who might call you if something bad happened to him.
With doubt dancing inside you, you slid your finger over the phone icon.
“Hello?”
On the other end of the line, your voice sounded shaky and tinged with doubt. A deep, serious male voice asked for your name to confirm.
“It's me.”
Your eyebrows remained furrowed, now with a greater sense of confusion.
“Good evening,” the man finally greeted you. “I'm calling from the GCPD.”
Okay, now you really didn't understand anything.
Not knowing exactly what to say, you let the man continue his speech.
“We have the one who calls himself her boyfriend with us.”
In the background, you could hear a groan and a complaint: “I'm her boyfriend!”
Jason dumbass Todd.
“What happened?” you asked with a sigh. Even though there was no sign of itching, you scratched your forehead in an attempt to relieve the stress that was beginning to build up in your body. You wedged your cell phone between your shoulder and ear so you could put Salem down on the sofa, receiving a snort in return.
The temperature in Gotham dropped sharply during the night. The cold penetrated your bones, becoming unbearable. Your body was not equipped to withstand the cold night blizzard.
You truly admired your boyfriend and his family. There wasn't a night when one of them wasn't on patrol. No matter the weather, the pain in their bodies, or how physically and mentally exhausted they were, they were always there to take care of the city.
“We need you to come to GCPD.” With your sneakers and coat on, you grabbed your keys. “And bring a change of clothes.”
That stopped you in front of the door.
“What...?”
A sigh was heard from the other side.
“He needs a change of clothes,” he repeated wearily. “Underwear included.”
Now you were completely lost. Underwear?
What the hell did you get yourself into, Jason Todd?
Jason sighed for the tenth time in fifteen minutes.
Half an hour ago, the officer sitting at his desk across from Jason's cell had called you.
If it had been up to him, he wouldn't have called you. Not you or anyone else. He would have preferred to spend the night in there. It wouldn't have been the first time, but at least he wouldn't have to spend the night patrolling the cold streets of Gotham.
With his head in his hands, and the minutes ticking by, Jason begged you to just ignore the call and stay home, but you wouldn't. He knew you'd end up coming anyway, which distressed him.
There was nothing worse for him than knowing you were walking alone through the streets of Gotham, especially at night. Anxiety and worry took hold of his body; his emotions—such as anger—took possession of him, running high.
As soon as Jason heard voices approaching where he was, a chill ran down his spine.
As soon as your eyes fell on him, every hair on his body stood on end.
“Are you his partner?” The officer sitting behind his desk rose from his chair and approached you.
“Yes,” you said, leaving your bag on the chair.
The man approached the cell, key in hand, to let Jason out.
“Come on. Go to the bathroom and change.”
You watched as Jason picked up the bag with his teeth. Your eyes fell on the robe he was wearing, barely covering his body.
The officer approached you with a sigh. He sat down in his chair and gestured for you to do the same in the chair opposite him.
“Okay,” he grabbed a folder and dropped it on the desk. “There was an incident with your partner tonight. We've spoken to both him and the victim.”
Your eyebrows furrowed at the last word.
“Victim?” you asked.
The officer took out a pen, ready to write down your words.
“Tell me, does your boyfriend tend to come in through the window instead of the door?”
Your mouth went dry at the question.
If Jason had talked to him, you knew you had to cover for him. It was common for him to come in through the window on his patrol nights.
“Sometimes, yes,” you replied, watching as the officer took note, along with Jason's words. In a second, you caught a glimpse of what Jason had answered, thanks to the officer's large handwriting. “He usually does it when he forgets his keys, and I'm still at work.”
“What time did you arrive at your apartment today?”
“At half past nine,” you replied with a sigh. “I usually arrive at eight, but today the streets were congested due to traffic.”
The officer nodded.
A large figure took the seat next to you. Jason was now sitting there wearing the clothes you had brought him.
“Now that we're all here,” the officer closed the folder and set it aside on the desk. “Tonight we received a call involving your boyfriend, committing a break-in at an elderly woman's apartment.”
You glanced at Jason, but didn't say anything.
“Apparently he came in through the window...”
“I got the wrong apartment,” Jason said. “I left my keys at work and it was too late to go back.”
“And they found him naked on the bed.”
Your mouth opened in surprise. Your head turned toward your boyfriend.
“Jason! What the hell?”
"I was trying to surprise you!" He excused herself, raising his hands in a defensive gesture. "I forgot my keys. I knew you'd be late and wanted to wait for you!"
"Naked?" the officer asked incredulously.
They both turned to look at the man. You were embarrassed, and he was tired of arguing about the same thing again.
Jason felt like he was back in school. He was in the principal's office while he recounted what he had done to Bruce or Alfred.
"What do we have to do to leave?" you asked tiredly. The day had been endless at the office, and your head and feet hurt. The last thing you needed was for your boyfriend to end up in jail after being caught naked in someone else's apartment.
Several minutes later, after signing several documents, you were both outside the GCPD.
The car fell silent as soon as the doors closed.
"Ma..."
You raised your hand and interrupted him before he could finish what he was saying.
Saying you were upset was a lie. You thought the situation Jason was in was funny. However, you were embarrassed after seeing the officer look at you when he asked why Jason was naked.
"I don't want to hear anything more until we get home."
Your voice cut the tension and Jason's words died in his throat.
"Yes, ma'am."
"I'm really sorry, doll."
Jason's enormous frame had shrunk to the point that he wanted to become invisible. He knew his partner was upset. He had noticed it ever since the officer recounted the events. He had noticed the way your shoulders had tensed, how you had closed your eyes to the information, and how your hands had slid over your pants.
"I knew you had a hard day at work, and I wanted to do something so you wouldn't be stressed anymore. I swear I didn't think it would end up like this.”
You observed your boyfriend's green eyes. You saw the sadness behind them and his furrowed brows.
Your heart skipped a beat as you softened at the sight before you.
Jason watched you shake your head as a laugh escaped your lips. You brought both hands up to cover your face.
"God," you said, unable to stop laughing. "What were you thinking, Jay?"
You brought your hands to his cheeks, holding them gently and caressing them with your thumbs. Jason's shoulders relaxed under your touch.
“Aren't you... angry?” Jason frowned as he watched your laughter fade, and there was only love in your eyes.
“Of course not, love.” You stood on tiptoe to kiss the tip of his nose. You both closed your eyes at the sensation, allowing love to spread throughout the living room. Your foreheads touched, and you laughed. “I still don't understand what went through your head to do that.”
“I wanted to make the end of your day different.”
You left a kiss on her lips.
When Jason and you started dating, you didn't think it would be possible to fall even more in love with him, but he always found a way to prove you wrong. There was always something about him or what he did that made your heart beat faster.
"Oh, you definitely made it different."
"Stop laughing, please," he begged, although a huge smile was on his face, allowing his heart to get drunk on the sound of your laughter.
“I can't help it”. You took a deep breath to catch your breath and continue talking. “Just thinking about the expression on that woman's face when she saw you naked, and then the police. Oh my God.”
Jason wrapped his arms around your waist, smiling as he admired you. His arms pulled your waist closer to his. He left a few kisses on your face.
"They may have seen me naked, but only you can enjoy the benefits."
You let out a small laugh.
"What are you waiting for to show me what benefits you have?"
summary: That day was supposed to be a special night, a new beginning in your new home. Oh well, who would have thought it would end up becoming such a funny memory... at least for you.
word count: 1.2k
warning(s): English is not my first language, not proofread, no use of y/n.
˗ˏˋ ♡ fic inspired by this videoˎˊ˗
If there was one thing Dick enjoyed more than teasing his brothers, it was spending a quiet day with you in their shared apartment. There was something about the simplicity of every moment, every touch, every silence, every laugh.
Every little action is imprinted on Dick's memory. Every moment they shared together had a special place inside him.
Even at that precise moment, Dick knew he would be able to remember every moment of what was happening in the room.
His bright blue eyes scanned your figure. Sitting on the wooden floor, one of his huge T-shirts wrapped around your body and several strands of hair tousled. Your hands reached into the medium-sized box, full of things they had packed from his old apartment, and you checked that everything was in order before setting it down on the floor.
Over a year ago, you both decided to move in together, into what used to be Dick's apartment. At first, it was a bit chaotic getting used to the mess Dick left in every corner, but when he saw that your things and space were always tidy, he understood that it was only fair to keep his space tidy too, so as not to get in the way.
“Why do we have so many mugs?” you asked, taking the eleventh mug out of the box. You stretched your neck slightly to see that there were at least six more wrapped in newspaper inside the box.
“Because all the cups look beautiful to you, love,” he replied amusedly.
You turned to look at him and narrowed your eyes.
“You didn't have to call me out.”
Dick just shrugged, a smile on his lips. He set the last box down on the floor of his new apartment.
The decision to move to a better neighborhood came as soon as their income improved. It wasn't that they had lived in a horrible, unsafe place before, but their old apartment was big enough for one person, and adding another made it incredibly cramped.
Dick didn't seem to mind that. In fact, he had an excuse to always be close to you, whether it was body to body, a hand on your thigh while he reviewed the reports from the last mission, or even just feeling your presence from across the room.
However, Dick had agreed to the idea, knowing that having a room exclusively for his activities as Nightwing was for the best.
“You asked, and I'm reminding you.”
Just as Dick kissed your forehead, the doorbell rang throughout the apartment.
“It must be the mattress people,” you exclaimed, getting up from the floor. You moved carefully among the cups, trying not to break any.
“I'll go.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, but you still had an amused expression on your face.
It was incredible that this tall, muscular vigilante, protector of Blüdhaven, was as excited as a little kid about the arrival of a package.
Within minutes, your boyfriend reappeared in the apartment, carrying a huge package over his shoulder.
“What's that?” you asked, confused, following him into the bedroom.
Like the rest of the place, the room was empty, except for a couple of boxes and the unassembled bed frame.
“The mattress,” he replied excitedly, dropping it with a thud.
“That doesn't look like a mattress,” you commented.
It didn't look like one at all. It was completely rolled up and wrapped in plastic, vacuum sealed. The man next to you didn't seem to care what it looked like when it arrived, he was just buzzing with excitement, looking for a knife or something sharp to cut the plastic.
“I'm going to open it.”
You parted your lips to speak, but before you could even tell him to wait a moment or to be careful, the knife slid across the plastic, leaving a clean cut halfway through.
The next thing you knew, the mattress flew through the air and slammed into Dick's face. The impact sent him flying across the bedroom.
Tuck.
The mattress now looked like a mattress, spread out flat on the floor, ready to be used.
Your mouth remained open in an expression of surprise. A stifled laugh escaped your lips, and you quickly brought your hand up to suppress the sound.
Silence filled the room. Both of you were too stunned to say anything.
With your hand still covering your mouth, you stared at the floor, not even thinking about making eye contact with your boyfriend. You knew that as soon as your eyes fell on his expression of astonishment and bewilderment, laughter would escape your lips.
Over time, you had discovered that in such circumstances, the worst thing you could do was laugh in front of him. Dick had the same reaction as when a small child hurt themself. He would look at the person closest to them, and when they saw their expression of concern—or laughter in your case—their eyes would glaze over, and they would start to cry.
You tried, you really tried not to laugh in front of him, but replaying the scene in your head didn't help at all.
As soon as the beginning of your laughter left your mouth, Dick looked at you hurt. The corners of his lips turned down, and his eyes took on that wounded puppy look.
“Don't laugh!” he exclaimed in annoyance, letting out a small whimper. “It hit me hard.”
In a matter of seconds, his huge frame was on top of yours. His hands slid around your waist, wrapping his arms around you. His head rested on yours.
Here we go again.
Your hands slid down to his broad back, slowly caressing him along its length.
“I know, I know,” you murmured, hiding the amused tone that wanted to escape in your words. “It was just a little bump.”
Who would have thought that a man like him would be so dramatic just to get his partner's attention?
It wasn't the first time something like this had happened.
Whenever something bothered or saddened him, he would go straight to you for comfort. Dick looked for any excuse to keep your attention on him.
“It hit my face really hard.” Dick pulled back just enough so you could see the corners of his mouth drooping in an inverted arc. “I need kisses.”
You let out a little laugh. Your lips left a small kiss on his chin.
“That's not enough, I need more.”
You suppressed a sigh that was waiting to escape.
“Okay, we'll call it a day,” you exclaimed, caressing his left bicep. “Tomorrow we'll build the bed frame, okay? Let's make the bed, and for tonight we'll sleep on the mattress on the floor.”
Dick shook his head in denial.
“Nuh uh. I'm not sleeping on that hell thing.”
Oh my God.
“I don't know about you, but I'm not sleeping on the floor, Dick.”
“We can sleep on the couch,” he suggested uselessly.
“On the couch that hasn't arrived yet?”
Once again, his head found comfort on yours.
They remained like that for several minutes.
His arms around your body, enveloping you in his embrace. Your hands caressing his long, broad back, listening to every beat of his heart against your ear.
“Who would have thought, huh?” you murmured, after being silent for a while.
“Who would have thought what?” Dick asked.
“Who would have thought that a vigilante would lose to a mattress?”
Yeah... that was a memory Dick did not want to have in his mind at all.
summary: As Cupid’s daughter, it was your responsibility to ensure that love would be revived and endure in Gotham. However, when Poison Ivy releases a love pollen onto Gotham’s dark and cold streets, your identity is put at risk as you strive to resolve the situation.
pairing: agep up!damian wayne x cupid's daughter!reader
word count: 2.4k
warning(s): English is not my first language, no use of y/n, it is mentioned that the reader has a tuft of pink hair. kinda trash idk.
When it comes to love, there are two types of people: dreamers and realists.
Dreamers have believed in love for as long as they can remember. They love without a second thought, and they do so with all their heart. They aren’t afraid to show it or to accept it.
On the other hand, realists had either loved at some point, or love had never been an option in their lives from the very beginning. However, whatever the reason, there was no room in their hearts for another person.
Even so, love always found its way to both of them, one way or another.
“Are you waiting for them to start yelling at each other?”
You chuckled softly, but you didn’t turn your head to look at the person next to you.
“Shh,” you whispered. You moved closer to him, feeling the heat radiating from him without even touching his body. “Just watch.”
Damian turned his eyes toward where you were looking.
“What am I supposed to see?”
A small smile formed on your face. Your eyes sparkled as you watched the scene unfold before you.
“A week and a half ago, there was a misunderstanding between them,” you began to explain. “And instead of talking it out, they decided to let pride and fear get the better of them.”
Damian frowned slightly, listening intently to what you were saying. His gaze remained fixed on the couple. They were holding hands and seemed to be having a deep conversation about what their argument might have been about.
“What did you do?”
The whole time his friend had been talking, she hadn’t once mentioned how they’d ended up where they were now. And that could only mean one thing: you’d interfered.
“What are you talking about?” you asked innocently.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t pretend you don’t.”
In all the years they’d known each other, Damian had learned to read you like a book. He knew perfectly well that, when it came to love, you always found a way to interfere and make things work out for others.
Damian raised an eyebrow, and that alone was enough to make you confess.
You let out a sigh.
“I might have overheard, by accident, the reason for their misunderstanding,” you said, your cheeks turning pink. “But I couldn’t let them suffer because they weren’t communicating, Dami!”
The boy shook his head.
“How many times do I have to tell you not to meddle in other people’s problems?”
“Sometimes love needs a little push,” you replied happily, batting your eyelashes innocently. “You’d understand if you’d just let me—”
“No.”
Damian’s quick refusal made your lips curl into a pout. Ever since you and Damian had become friends, your need to help him find someone to love had grown steadily.
As you got to know each layer of him, you knew that he, too, deserved to love and be loved.
“But…”
“I said no.” The answer slipped out abruptly before he could stop it. Damian caught the look of disappointment that crossed your face. He exhaled deeply and closed his eyes briefly. “There’s no need for you to find someone for me. I’m fine just the way I am, qalbi.”
“Okay,” you murmured. “You know that whenever you want my help, I’ll be there for whatever you need, right?”
The left corner of Damian’s lips lifted imperceptibly. He turned to look at your profile, observing the pink strand that blended with the natural color of your hair.
Sometimes he wondered how someone dressed in bright colors, with sparkling eyes, a loving smile, and a fun personality, could have won his heart so completely.
“You should find something more entertaining to do in that time. Otherwise, you’ll be bored for eternity.”
You simply smiled in response.
You were grateful that Damian wasn’t interested in love just yet. Because that meant your heart would last a little longer without breaking at the thought of seeing him love someone else.
But that day would come eventually, and as Cupid’s daughter, it was your responsibility to help him find love. Even if you weren’t the one he ended up loving.
The chaos began gradually.
The pollen spread slowly through the streets, drifting through the night mist. It slipped into small nooks and crannies—any space large enough to invade the city’s homes.
While people slept, their systems were invaded by the pollen. Their minds were shrouded in a pink haze, causing them to fall in love not only with the first thing they saw, but also with the first thing they dreamed of or thought about.
The ones who first noticed that something was wrong were Gotham’s vigilantes.
Batman’s calculating eyes scanned the streets. The first victims took to the streets, searching for the people they thought they loved; and within minutes, a large portion of the city was running in panic through the streets, searching for their loved ones.
“Everyone,” Batman’s deep voice drowned out the commands of the rest of his family. “Gas masks. Now.”
The rest, who were also aware of what was happening, quickly obeyed the order.
“What’s going on?” Robin asked.
“Poison Ivy has released some pollen into the streets,” he replied.
No one asked what kind of pollen it was. No one had ever seen anything like it before.
This new type of pollen didn’t seem to make people violent or fearful of something that didn’t exist, but rather… it created a new kind of chaos. A calm one.
“There are people… kissing?” Spoiler’s voice drowned out the commands.
New hurried footsteps were heard on the street. Robin’s gaze fell on a familiar figure, and his heart tightened with worry.
There, surrounded by a mist of love, you stood. With your messy pink-tinged hair, your pink pajamas, and matching furry slippers, you stood out against the dark streets.
Your gaze wandered to every couple around you.
Some displayed a healthy, loving obsession with their partner. Others fought for attention. Others accepted that love, and in the rest, you could sense the discomfort caused by the attention they were receiving.
“Oh no.”
Robin collapsed right in front of you. The rest of the Bat-family followed suit.
“You’d better go inside. Now.”
You shook your head, ignoring his sudden appearance. “I can’t.”
Your eyes met the domino mask of Gotham’s youngest vigilante.
“This is because of a love pollen,” you announced in a low voice, flatly refusing to follow Robin’s orders. “I can’t just leave this like this!”
“A what now?”
Your worried gaze fell on Red Robin, who had asked the question. With your hands, you pointed to the behavior of the people around you, as if it were the most obvious thing of the night.
“Love pollen,” you replied, observing the people who weren’t paying attention to the group of superheroes, but rather to the person with the pollen who had hypnotized them.
“How do you know what kind of pollen it is?” Batman’s voice sent a chill down your spine.
You swallowed hard in the face of the enormous, intimidating figure.
“Only pollen can create an obsession like that.” Damian’s gaze drifted to your hands, where you were fidgeting with your fingers in a nervous tic. “Look at them.”
“So if it’s pollen, we must find an antidote,” Red Robin’s voice boomed in their ears.
“You can’t,” you added in a low voice, halting the start of a plan. “There is no counter-spell or antidote that can interfere with love.”
The three of them watched as your expression shifted from one of thoughtfulness to one where your eyebrows shot up and your mouth opened slightly as you let out a sound of joy.
“But I know how!” You flashed a huge smile at the guards, as if from now on you were a team.
Batman raised an eyebrow beneath his mask.
“Follow me.”
Soon, following the supposed stranger who actually spent her afternoons at Wayne Manor, they found themselves in the beautiful backyard of the girl’s house.
“So…,” Red Robin’s voice broke the silence of the night. “Where’s the antidote?”
In your hands, now covered by gloves, you held a silver tray. “There is no antidote, but there is something that can help you.”
With no time to lose, you turned your back on the three of them. You knelt on the cold grass and, with a pair of scissors, began cutting white roses.
“Love is not something you can fight or stop. It’s a force of nature,” the white roses began to pile up on the silver tray. “But there are many kinds of love: passionate love, familial love, the love of friendship, unconditional love, and true love.”
With the tray full of flowers—enough to cover most of the citizens for the time being—you handed it to Batman.
“These are mood roses. They change color depending on the kind of love the recipient truly feels, so it’s best to wear gloves when handing them out.”
Damian looked at the flowers and turned his gaze to the young woman.
“How do you know about these things?”
The girl pursed her lips. A sense of unease washed over her.
“I’m… I’m a cherub,” you closed your eyes, knowing from the start how ridiculous what you were about to say would sound. “My dad is Cupid. That’s how I know this will work. Only cherubs can grow this kind of flower.”
Realizing that they were standing stiffly and in silence, you spoke again.
“Look, I know it sounds ridiculous, but you’d better start moving before this obsession turns into something… hard to undo.”
Batman snapped out of his own daze and nodded. Within seconds he had left the place, knowing that both of his children would follow him, along with the rest of the flowers.
“When you say you’re Cupid’s daughter,” your gaze fell on Red Robin, “do you also make two people fall in love out of nowhere?”
“No,” she laughed softly. “It doesn’t work that way. I help give them that little push they need to be together, but I can’t create love between two people if neither of them feels anything for the other.”
Your attention shifted to the younger one, expecting him to ask you a question too, but he didn’t. His attention was completely focused on your words.
Now he understood why you had been so insistent on helping him find someone he was interested in. You could help him make sure the other person realized how he felt.
It was late at night, just a few hours before dawn, when a soft tapping sound came from your window.
With your hair tousled and half asleep, you lifted your head to see if you would hear that sound again.
And so it was.
Your feet touched the cold wood as you walked toward the window. Your hands grabbed each end of the curtain, pulling it wide open to reveal the youngest of the vigilantes outside.
“Robin?”
You unlocked the window, letting him into the room.
“What are you doing here? Didn’t the flowers work?”
The watchman remained silent for a few seconds.
After seeing what the flowers did, Damian realized that the flowers could help him, too. The whole way there, all he could think about was that he would finally be able to know what you were feeling. But he knew he should have thought of something else because now his brain had shut down just from seeing you.
Believing that would make the explanation easier, one of his hands reached for the mask and slowly removed it, revealing those bright green eyes and the bat-shaped eyebrows you loved so much.
“Oh. My. Damian? What?”
You moved closer to him. Close enough to catch the scent of his expensive cologne, the smell of flowers, and the streets of Gotham that clung to him.
“I’m not good at expressing how I feel, and you know that,” his voice sounded tired and hoarse from the night. “But... I want to. No. I need to know how you feel about me.”
Your eyebrows shot up at that. Your heart began to pound hard and irregularly. Your ears were ringing, making you dizzy.
“I need to know if…”
A sigh escaped his lips. His bare right hand, which had been hidden behind his back, held one of the flowers.
“There is no day, no moment, when you do not take hold of my thoughts, my worries, and my affection.”
He extended his arm, waiting for you to take the flower in your hands, and that was when your heart squeezed.
“Damian…”
“Take the flower, qalbi.”
“Damian, I’m a cherub.”
The pain of admitting those words was evident in your voice. Most of the time, it was something you thought of with pride, but now…
“If I take that flower, you might not like the answer it brings.”
“You don’t know that.” A silence settled between them. “Please.”
With trembling fingers, you took it.
Both of you gazed intently at the flower.
Both of you held the flower. Damian’s hand covered yours, offering you warmth.
Soon a sob escaped your lips as the flower changed color. Damian’s eyes shot toward yours.
“What does it mean?”
You opened your mouth to answer, but the only thing that came out was something else.
“I don’t understand.”
“Hayati, what does it mean?”
Your eyes met Damian’s. A look of concern flashed across his face the moment he saw your tear-filled eyes.
His left hand cupped your cheek, and his thumb moved in circles, seeking to offer you comfort.
“We cherubs must not interfere with the destinies of others,” you admitted. “I thought… I thought I should let yours unfold like everyone else’s, but…”
Your gaze returned to the flower, and you smiled.
“Yellow means friendship. Red means romance. And pink… pink means true love.”
You let the feeling and the truth settle in your chest and your heart.
“It means we’re meant to be together.”
A smile began to form on Damian’s face. This was what he deeply and selfishly longed for—that no one but you would be in his life. And the pink color of the flower confirmed that this selfish feeling was simply the way it was meant to be.
“Since when have you…?”
“You know, for a cherub, you’re pretty clueless when it comes to realizing that someone loves you.”
You let out a dramatic sigh.
“Shut your mouth, asshole.”
With smiles on both their faces, their lips met, plunging into a deep sea of long-suppressed feelings and affection.
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