"The Infernal Dinner Date" [ DAMIRAE ]
Summary:
Rachel Roth decides it’s time for Damian Wayne to meet her father, Trigon, the literal demon lord of another dimension. The dinner, held in a fiery hellscape, quickly devolves into a chaotic combination of dark humor, passive-aggressive banter, and Damian’s stubborn refusal to be intimidated by a being who could obliterate him with a thought. Rachel, ever the unbothered middleman, somehow keeps the night from spiraling completely out of control—though barely. Between veiled threats, awkward small talk, and moments of surprisingly tender understanding, one thing becomes clear: no one handles family dysfunction quite like Rachel and Damian.
Warnings:
Dark humor, Over-the-top absurdity, Fluffy moments amidst chaos
Damian Wayne wasn’t easily fazed. He’d been raised by assassins, fought gods, and lived with the Bat-family. But standing at the edge of a glowing portal to hell, he found himself tightening his grip on his katana.
Rachel stood beside him, utterly unfazed, as if the swirling vortex of fire and screams was a cozy dinner invite.
“Stop glaring at it,” she said, stepping through without hesitation.
“I’m not glaring. I’m assessing,” Damian snapped, following her into the portal.
The landscape that greeted them was… dramatic. Fiery rivers, jagged mountains, and countless lesser demons scurrying about like stressed-out caterers preparing for the world’s most chaotic dinner party.
“Charming,” Damian muttered, dodging a flaming rock that fell suspiciously close to him.
Rachel smirked. “You should see it on holidays. The firestorms are festive.”
---
They arrived at an enormous, obsidian dining hall lit by floating, flickering flames. At the head of a ridiculously long table sat Trigon, all four glowing eyes trained on them. His massive, horned form loomed over the space, radiating an aura of power and annoyance.
“Rachel,” Trigon’s voice rumbled, shaking the very walls. “You’ve brought a mortal into my realm.”
“Nice to see you too, Dad,” Rachel replied, unbothered. “This is Damian. My boyfriend.”
Damian stepped forward, spine straight, meeting Trigon’s gaze without a flicker of fear. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”
Trigon stared for a long moment before leaning back in his chair, his laugh echoing like thunder. “You’re either incredibly brave or monumentally foolish.”
“Why not both?” Damian replied dryly.
Rachel sighed. “Can we skip the intimidation routine? It’s boring.”
---
As they sat down, Damian found himself seated between Rachel and a smaller, snake-headed demon who offered him what looked like a drink made of molten lava.
“Drink it,” Trigon commanded, watching with a smug smile.
Without missing a beat, Damian took the glass, sniffed it, and took a small sip. His face didn’t betray a single emotion as he set it down.
“Not bad,” he said. “Though I prefer green tea.”
Rachel choked on her own drink, and Trigon’s smugness faltered for just a second.
“Impressive,” Trigon said, his voice a mix of amusement and grudging respect.
---
The meal began, served by demons with far too many arms. The food was… creative. Squirming tentacles, flaming meats, and a dessert that seemed to scream when touched.
Damian cut into a piece of glowing red meat with precision, ignoring how it growled at him.
“So, Damian,” Trigon began, his tone casual but his eyes glowing ominously. “What exactly do you bring to my daughter’s life?”
Damian set his knife down deliberately. “I protect her. I support her. And I challenge her when necessary.”
Rachel raised an eyebrow. “Challenge me?”
“Occasionally,” Damian amended.
Trigon leaned forward. “And what makes you think you’re worthy of her?”
Damian didn’t flinch. “I don’t. But I work every day to be.”
Rachel blinked, clearly caught off guard, and even Trigon seemed momentarily speechless.
“That was almost… touching,” Trigon muttered. “Disgusting.”
---
The dinner continued with only minor incidents—like when a minor demon tried to steal Damian’s katana and found itself pinned to the wall by a throwing knife.
“That’s enough, Horflax,” Rachel said without looking up from her plate.
Damian smirked. “A charming dinner companion.”
“I like him,” Rachel said, smirking back.
---
As the evening drew to a close, Trigon rose from his seat, towering over everyone. “Damian Wayne,” he said, his voice resonating with ancient power. “You have survived this evening. Barely.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Damian replied, meeting his gaze.
Trigon let out another booming laugh. “You’re either brave or stupid.”
“Still both,” Damian said.
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Are we done with the theatrics?”
Trigon looked at her, his expression softening slightly. “You have chosen well, daughter.”
Rachel snorted. “Don’t make it weird.”
---
As they left the portal and stepped back into the mortal world, Damian exhaled deeply.
“Well, that was… something,” he said.
Rachel grinned. “Admit it. You had fun.”
Damian gave her a sideways look. “Your father tried to kill me twice, insulted me six times, and served me food that might still be alive.”
Rachel shrugged. “Classic Dad.”
Damian shook his head but couldn’t help a small smile. “I suppose it wasn’t entirely terrible.”
“See? You’re bonding already.”
He groaned. “Next time, we’re meeting Alfred. He’s much less… demonic.”
Rachel smirked. “Don’t underestimate Alfred. He can be scarier than my dad when he wants to.”
Damian considered this and nodded. “Good point.”
They walked off, hand in hand, into the night.
