I loved again and again

24. Here for Damian Wayne things.

[ilovedagain]

❛he loves until it consumes his heart, and then he loves again.❜

hello! I love damian wayne and I write things about him. some are poems, some are stories that rhyme, some are normal stories. all of them are gen and heavy on the angst.

| poems \ stories that rhyme \ normal stories |

[tb-png]

baby lamb 🐑 🐕

[tb-png]

he would call the little lamb mary because he’s just a sweet little boy like that :(

[brucestalia]

since al ghul isn't really a surname — it's a title, meaning "of the demon," i started thinking about the different monikers (i.e., organs) that could be attributed to the other members of the family.

ra's is the head, the mind that plots, the will that commands. rúh, the soul, is the unseen force—the essence of the dynasty.

talia al ghul – the heart (qalb) talia is the emotional core of the al ghul family, often torn between loyalty to her father and her love for bruce wayne. her decisions, though calculated, are deeply driven by matters of the heart—love, betrayal, and faith. she embodies passion and connection, making her the family’s qalb.

dusan al ghul – the shadow (dhil) dusan, the "white ghost," operates in the margins of the al ghul legacy. his role is one of quiet devotion, cast aside, yet, always present. his loyalty and sacrifice, earn him the title of the dhil, the shadow that follows without faltering.

nyssa raatko – the spine (amud al-faqr) nyssa is the backbone of resistance and rebellion within the al ghul family. her strength and defiance against her father’s rule position her as the amud al-faqr, the spine, unyielding and essential for standing tall against opposition.

melisande – the blood (dam) melisande represents the lifeline that connects the family to its mortal roots. her role in the al ghul saga may be fleeting, but her influence flows through talia and the family’s lineage, much like blood sustains life. she is the dam, a vital yet often overlooked element.

sora – the lungs (ri'ahtayn) sora, ra’s al ghul’s lost love, is the breath of life that once inspired him. her memory fuels his ambition, and her loss suffocates him. she is the ri'ahtyn the lungs, symbolising both the life-giving force and the void left behind when it is gone.

damian wayne – the hands (aydi) damian, born of both the waynes and the al ghuls, is the agent of the family’s will. whether building or destroying, his actions carry the burden of legacy. as the aydi, the hands, he represents both creation and conflict, the tangible force that shapes the future.

athanasia al ghul - the pulse (nafas) athanasia is the constant heartbeat that keeps their future alive. she sustains life, binding the waynes and the al ghuls, a reminder that their stength lies not just in their past, but in their ability to endure and evolve. this vitality makes her the nabadh, the pulse, the promise of renewal.

mara al ghul – the eyes (ayn) mara is the family’s watcher, a presence that perceives more than what it reveals. she is a visionary, seeing not just what is before her, but what lies beneath and beyond. she is the ayn, the eyes, ever watchful, attuned to every rhythm and dissonance.

[ we know very little about dusan's wife, but i think that she would be the sawt, the voice, a balance between silence and sound. ]

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

[ilovedagain]

It's insane to me that every robin's story is profoundly tied to a person's death and it made them become robin. Dick with the death of his parents. Jason with the death of his mom forcing him deeper into poverty, putting him on Bruce's path. Tim with Jason's death. Damian who officially becomes robin when Bruce was 'dead' (lost in the timestream).

Like father like son, huh? (Also Tim loves Jason more than his parents confirmed)

[kaylasurrett]

Drew this around a year ago at this point, but I still really like how this turned out

[decentwinter]

A little guy!!!

[ilovedagain]

You know how horses lean down their necks for a crying human to hug? Or how service dogs sense and gravitate towards a depressed human? This is pretty much why I hc that the reason animals are so accepting of Damian is they sense how much he's in emotional turmoil and they want to console him.

[ilovedagain]

You know it's bad when all you can write is heavy angst with unhappy endings and the one time you manage a hopeful ending you're celebrating with your readers.

'yes! the author stopped stabbing the characters!! we won!!' me that's me saying this

[rekuram1n]

Goliath you will always be famous

[ilovedagain]

poems ⋄

the unspeakable things; if damian wrote a cautionary lullaby.

mother, tell me; the words damian can't say to his parents.

your heart is bulletproof; damian and jon, past and present. dark!jon implied. gen.

[ilovedagain]

stories that rhyme ⋄

the poisoned apple; damian's place in his family. 1,329 words. heavy angst. unhappy ending.

the crucible; damian coming to terms with the trials of his upbringing. 1,024 words. heavy angst. hopeful ending. tw: emetophobia.

watched; the surveillance damian received as a young prince. 894 words. angst. unhappy ending.

[ilovedagain]

stories ⋄

the artist; damian talks about colours with a therapist. 1,063 words. angst. unhappy ending.

a love like blood; damian ponders his ties to ra's, and polishes china plates with alfred. 1,312 words. angst. open, hopeful ending.

pneumothorax; damian describes his wounds. 733 words. heavy angst. happy ending!

[ilovedagain]

Damian and Jon, past and present.

(a poem)

Red lines only: Damian, age 12, is laying back on the grass in the Kents' farm, cloud-watching with Jon. He thinks about how Jon is too innocent, but maybe that's because he is too bulletproof for the world to pierce him, taint him. And Damian, twisting his own knife in his own heart further, knows he's crueler than his friend because he has made horrible mistakes.

Blue lines only: Jon, aged 21, (in a Dark!Jon au) is reminscing about the days when they were younger. Damian survived in this world with his heart intact, but Jon has grown into a man with destruction at his fingertips and hate in his heart. And Jon thinks, Damian was able to let his mistakes smoothen his edges, instead of sharpening them—like what happened to Jon.

When both red and blue are read together, it's from Jon's pov, expanding on his view. He thinks about how they were too innocent for the world, but somehow Damian's heart was bulletproof.

[itsdabatt]

Are you cowering yet

(FLASH WARNING)

Full animation here

[decentwinter]

I was playing with Ibis Paint's (my secret love) settings and I realized how well dramatic lighting fits this drawing of Damian I made

Maybe I could push it more, lemme just—

Oh hell yeah. Imagine being a thief in Gotham and seeing this

by the way, you can see my linktree here or commission me here

[arunneronthird]

ive been thinking about this terrible joke all day

[lunar-caterpillar]

Just a silly little Batman and Robin doodle from a while ago.

[ilovedagain]

A short story about the different wounds Damian Wayne has sustained.

tw: graphic description of injuries.

There are many wounds that Damian Wayne sustained in his short life. And if he were asked, and if he must reply, he would rank the wounds he sustained.

A head wound is the least painful, and the hardest to recover from. He loses his grip on consciousness, and reality slips like oil between his fingers. It's hard to worry about that when he's delirious. But in the aftermath, when recovery begins and time starts ticking, measuring how long it takes him to put himself back together—that is when head trauma becomes excruciating.

Muscle memory is all you have because your muscles have atrophied in your rest and your memory is stuttering back to life. He can't trust his mind to keep him safe and conceal his secrets—his tongue is loosened and speaks before he tells it. Green eyes watch him and count the days it takes him to recover.

And all shall pass, until a day comes when he's stabbed in the chest and the knife nicks his lungs. Suddenly, he's pooling blood into his lungs with each inhale, and the chest wound in his side sucks in air with him in nasty, wheezing sounds that haunt him.

The silver lining is how effective first aid measures are for a sucking chest wound. A little square of silver foil covers the wound, and the blood is sucked from his lungs with a tube. Blue eyes watch him and count the ways he could have avoided nicking his lungs.

And all shall pass, they say. But Damian would add, 'unless you've had a broken back and a doctor screws it in place with a metal rod.' It's a slow crawl up two steps in a staircase. Sweat beading his forehead when he sits up in bed. A hand clutching the railing, or palm splayed on the walls, or fingers gripping someone's elbows, hanging on.

It's a small distance to fall from your feet to your knees, but it ricochets up the metal rods in his back like a hail of bullets. Blue eyes watch with concern and Damian counts the new wrinkles around them.

And all shall pass, again. When you're ashes, dust to dust, bones and metal in a casket, these physical wounds will be reduced to bad memories.

Which is why, if Damian were asked, and if Damian must reply, he would rank these physical wounds as child's play compared to the sucking chest wound in his heart. Sharp words stabbed it and didn't even leave the knife to stop his blood from going everywhere. No, they took their knife and left.

This wound in his chest heaved in breaths that taste like blood and sound like ghosts hissing their hurts. Blue eyes, green eyes, teal eyes, brown eyes—he counts them all as they turn away one by one by one.

And when he's ashes, dust and metal in a casket, these wounds in his spirit will be more than bad memories.

On a cold night like any night in Gotham, when patrol is cut short and Damian is rushed to the med-bay, he lays in a white bed and catalogues his hurts. The heart monitor is worried and insistent, but Damian has never felt so calm. There's a bullet in his chest, so what?

There's a blurry edge to Drake's face, and Todd's voice is muffled behind cotton in his ears, and a white halo is above Richard's head—the operation lights, the back of his mind says—and Alfred's hands are a magical blue—surgical gloves—and Father is...Father is here, looking Damian in the eye, mouth moving in silent words. Damian nudges his mind, shakes it like a bag dispensing dog food, tries to get it to read Father's lips.

There's a bullet in my chest, he wants to tell them. It's okay, he wants to tell them. The bullet is still in there, so the blood is not going everywhere, and you should take care of that because he can't feel his arms, but. But most importantly. It's a physical wound, and. And everyone is here, like a little silver square of foil that will close his sucking chest wound and make the horrible wheezing go away.

It's okay, because they stayed and made sure this wound would only be a physical one.

Stay with me, Father's lips say before Damian is out cold.