Being the daughter of Diana Prince and Damian Wayne’s significant other includes; PT. 8:
A/N: All my WIP would be posted/updated on my masterlist with their supposed dates of posting.
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taglist: @iam-always-half-asleep
Diana was not around when you reached home which gave you the advantage of time to find some answers if there were any in your house. Starting from the office to the bedroom
You came out mostly unsuccessful unless what you’re looking for was more art-related projects until you reach her bedroom
Stashed in between piles of paperwork was a letter from your grandmother
It was all updates about Themyscira and what you assumed as replies from what your mother has asked. You would have chucked them aside if not for finding one with your grandmother concerned about Jason missing from Greece.
You didn’t hear your mother coming in, only her gasp of surprise. The next emotion that flits across her face was anger how could you go through her personal belongings without her permission, she taught you better than that.
But your brain was not digesting anything; your body moving on its own - placing the letters by the nightstand and slowly making your way across to the window.
The room was bathed in darkness, only the moonlight shining in illuminating your mother’s concerned features but she couldn’t see you - with your back faced to the moon, only your silhouette was the most prominent thing. She was stuck between asking you about your reason as to why you were home early or as to why you’re digging around, but she didn’t have to.
“You wouldn’t have wanted me. I was probably an accident, an unplanned child and unwanted.” Your mother’s alarmed face did not deter you but before she could deflect, you continued. “Did you ask the Gods and Goddesses to give you a daughter when you found out? Did you pray to them begging for a girl? If I didn’t turn out how you wanted me, would you cast me out like what the Queen did? Or is there any twin brother I was not aware of?”
The way you spoke about your grandmother as someone far off and not your grandmother jerked her heartstrings, more so than the far-fetched accusations you were making; because Diana knew which one was true. Diana just wanted to wrap you up in a blanket, bundle you on her bed and wipe away the tears collecting on your waterline and whisper comforting words in your ear before the sombre look on your face morphed into a more broken one - tears streaming down your face ashamedly, nose sniffling and words choking up with the air you’re trying to get into your lungs
“Is that why we moved out from Amazon and you raised me here? Because I was not made from clay like you said I was and given life by the Goddesses. And so somehow I’m not pure enough to be on that island with the blood of man I carry. That’s why she didn’t bother writing letters to her granddaughter directly and whenever I’m there, she would always have this pained and faraway look in her eyes. And the Amazons I was so proud to call my sister never really try to get close to me and were always so formal around me.” You were already hysterical at this point, voice inclining higher and louder over your sobs and gasping for air. “You only raised me because I reminded you of a love you once had or something and not because you wanted right? Well, I’m just glad that I turned out to be a girl, I guess.” You gave a weak, teary smile which Diana shook her head at.
There were so many things wrong with whatever you were saying but she didn’t know where to start, especially after the loaded information and accusations you were spitting out; it was not entirely wrong that the Amazons were hardly happy when Diana was pregnant with you but she didn’t have a clue as to you felt that way: being an outcast in your - her - home.
You took her silence as agreement and immediately made your escape with the window.
Diana would have followed if not for her Justice League pager ringing. She took a long few seconds debating on chasing you or answering but duty’s call and it was an emergency she found out when Bruce informed her. After a longing look at the window, she wiped her tears and calmed herself down enough for her hands and lips to stop trembling
You flew without destination, throwing out your phone after incessant calls from Damian and Jon, with your mind overloaded with all the red flags you should have seen.
You landed on a lake on God knows where squatting and wrapping your knees to your chest while staring at your reflection all broken and blotchy; your dried tears came barraging back and you couldn’t stop the hiccups nor the wails from spilling out of your lips
You don’t know how long you stayed like that but when you’ve regained enough sensibility, you were tired and drained. So when a voice spoke out asking if you’re okay, you were spooked; limbs heavy and heart too broken to care for your safety.
From the shadows, a woman walked out - eyebrows scrunching with concern - and head tilted in curiosity, steps slow as to not scare you further. However, the most prominent thing was her red eyes glowing.
It should scare you and your first instinct was to crawl away from her, then you stopped. You were in no place to judge someone on their appearance, especially when the people who seem to be the nicest and kindest are the cruellest and lie to cover up their bad side.
She gave a chuckle, low and not entirely good-naturedly, “It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean to offend me, but I hope you know I don’t mean you any harm. I wanted to help you when you first came down but you looked like you need to cry it out. From the looks of it, parent trouble?” You nodded without thinking, lips sewn and eyes analysing her body language. “I could speak from experience but I wouldn’t want to speak ill of the dead.” She waved off your troubled look. “Don’t worry about it. She died protecting me and that’s the noblest way to die I find, especially when there are so many people who’re out to kill me just because of my father. You know, she killed people to get me out of there; she knew I would not be accepted there because I’m not as pure as them.”
Something tugged at your heartstrings and your brain was screaming at you to run because she seemed so dangerous and there was no way her story was so similar yet so different from yours; but the hatred in her eyes and that acid tone she had was too genuine.
So when she offered you her hand, promising you of a place with no judgement and a safe haven for castaways like you two, you took it without hesitation.
a lil bit of blueberry flavoured puppy love; milk troubles
Summary: Tobio loves milk but his baby brain can’t decide on which one to get.
Pairings: Iwaizumi Hajime x F!Reader // Child!Kageyama Tobio x Mom!Reader // Child!Kyoutani Kentarou x Mom!Reader
Warnings: Angy Kentarou!
A/N: i love kageyama so much and even after seeing his growth in the manga, he’s still babie to me.
Tobio stood in front of the glass door, eyes trained on the challengers behind it with clenched fists by his sides and a pout on his face. He huffed once more when his eyes have scanned all of these contestants but he still couldn’t choose one.
After asking mama if he can go choose his own milk and using his puppy eyes - which his Uncle Oikawa has shown him how to do it with much success according to him - when mama almost said no because he was too small and young to go alone and in the eyes of mama, still a baby - he’s not, but he loves it when mama calls him her baby. Mama squealed and giggled at him instead of replying after seeing his pleading expression. She bent down to his height, muttering about how unfair Tobio was with his pouty face and puppy eyes, pinching his cheeks a bit too hard and letting him go if his brother tagged along.
A displeased sound came from papa. He looked at the brows furrowing and arms crossing across his chest but nii-san was already dragging Tobio by the hand away from mama and papa to decipher what they were talking about. Papa did not look too happy but he knew papa would not scold mama too bad because mama told him a secret: papa was too much in love with her for that.
After snaking their way through tall legs and getting lost at wrong turns and aisles, they’ve reached the milk section. Nii-san heading towards the yoghurt section a few feet down and that’s where Tobio’s current predicament lies, standing in front of the giant glass door with all the milk the world had to offer.
He didn’t want to go back empty-handed because that means mama and papa would not let him go again in the future and he would be stuck with the same milk they buy. Though he didn’t have anything against that, he refused to not try other milk since Uncle Makki brought him a bottle of milk the other day they came to visit and it was so delicious and Tobio had never try it before but he wanted more when he reached the bottom of the bottle.
He could hear his Uncles laughing when he gathered his courage to ask Uncle Makki for more but to find none. He ruffled his hair and promised to get him more but after glancing between his uncle and the empty bottle with the delicious milk leaving his taste buds slowly, he could come to one conclusion at that moment: he cried.
Mama came rushing in to comfort Tobio, papa stomping after her and hitting his uncles on the head despite their attempts to get out their side of the story, nii-san charging at them with his sword - his current fascination - and hitting the nearest uncle without mercy.
Maybe he should buy the same milk Uncle Makki bought? He frowned further when he couldn’t remember it. Tears started burning his eyes and his fists shook.
A voice broke him out of his reverie - a young lady marring a concerned look on her face, offering Tobio to open the glass door for him, thinking that the reason he was crying was because of the high door handle he couldn’t reach - but Tobio shook his head, puffing out his cheeks in annoyance and even going as far as stomping his foot when she insisted.
It apparently caught the attention of his nii-san because he came dashing in between the lady and Tobio with his teeth out. The lady jumped back in surprise seeing the older and taller boy snarling at her while carrying packets of yoghurts in his arms. The threat of him throwing those at her increasing when she saw him wrapping a tiny hand around a packet. She backed away, hands up and showing she didn’t mean any harm.
Kentarou turned to look at Tobio, his usual frown and pout on his face - a trademark look of the Iwaizumis the both of them got from his papa his mama said one day when Tobio came home crying after making his classmate cried when all he wanted was to borrow her crayons - and huffing out which milk he wanted so he would get it for him.
“Uncle Makki’s.” Tobio pouted.
Surprise took over Kentarou’s face before facing the refrigerator. He blinked once then twice. His little mind wracking for a familiar looking milk. Finally, he whispered, “Which one is that?”
Tobio shrugged in defeat as they both faced the refrigerator in hopes of finding it.
You giggled, leaning your arms on the handles of the cart, watching your two boys from down the aisle as they basically glared at the refrigerator and scaring away any adults within their perimeter. “They got that from you, you know?”
“Huh?” Hajime faced you instead of the two choices of frozen chickens in his hands. He glanced to find what you were fawning over and rolled his eyes when he found his two children having a crisis. “And they got their short attention span from you.” He placed one of them back in the refrigerator and the other in the cart. “And indecisiveness.”
“Hey!” You glared at him, lips tugging downwards into a pout.
He chuckled, arms wrapping around your hips, planting a short, sweet kiss on your lips which left you inclining towards him for more but his grip on your hips stop you short. You huffed in irritation.
“All I wanted was for a kid who’s more like me. But they both turn out exactly like you with your bullying tendencies and that lovable face.”
“So that’s why you keep giving in to them? ‘Cause they look like me?” Hajime snickered, head buried in your neck.
You were about to retort when the sounds of growling and the beginning of crying could be heard from the direction of your children. Two staff were trying to help - expression laced with uncertainty and fear - but Kentarou, with a packet of yoghurt in each hand ready to launch it at them, was standing protectively between them and Tobio who was already hiccuping.
You sighed in resignation. “Exactly like you.”
Hajime grinned in pride, “Well, at least now we know that they won’t be bullied at school.”
You gasped, hitting him in the shoulder, before marching over to them before the situation escalates, and save the two staff from having their necks bit off by your child.
Being an Amazon and Tim Drake’s significant other; pt. 2
A/N: my grammar is all over the place,, so just don’t mind that,,, on a more exciting note!! i’m planning to take A levels next year despite graduating with diploma in March so,,, idk how committed I would be to writing ((like i was in the beginning lololol))
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They have made it clear that whatever you did will not earn you any sort of favours from them. So you have decided to just avoid them entirely, using your enhanced abilities to sneak around the tower, like some kind of burglar - dashing off to your room when you hear the littlest sound of voices coming towards your direction, peeking out at the corridors before walking down them, not joining them when they go out for their outings or having their movie night
Honestly, Gar and Bart were the only ones who felt bad about leaving you out entirely. They tried suggesting subtly but it was always met with glares or just shut down before they could convince anyone
The two of them band together to try and make you be friendlier with the rest of the team to earn their trust back
However, no matter how much they’ve tried, your enhanced skills always leave you one step above
So they have to take things the hard way, they infiltrated your room
You were not happy to see the two - no matter how sheepish and sorry they look and how fast they try to talk into listening to them - and literally threw them out of the room
Tim was walking past to witness the whole thing. He gave an offhand remark about leaving people alone and respecting their personal space. Honestly, he just doesn’t want you hanging around with the rest of the team. He felt so vulnerable with you and he sucks at keeping his emotions in check. The last thing he needed was for you to even hint about his crush on Cassie - the team was too smart and pick it up straight away
There was a mission that forced you out of your room, some illegal drug smuggling by the coast. The plan was a simple get in, kick their ass and get out to call the police right on time. Hence, you were told to standby - to watch how the team works so you wouldn’t be confused about how to work with others in the near future
You merely shrugged and waited on the roof as told while the rest of the team entered to seize the operation
However, you see someone sneaking around the shadows and your gut was telling you to go down and help them. You don’t want to cause any more trouble with the team than you already did but you knew they needed help
And from the sounds of it, with the screaming and gears going off, they were ambushed. So, albeit reluctantly, you went in and saved their asses
Despite that, that wasn’t the team’s primary focus. Apparently, the assailant was provoking them and he - Slade was it? - knew where it hurts the most
Conner was up and arms with Tim about his supposed crush on Cassie with the latter not helping in dissuading the situation despite being a team leader. The team themselves want to intervene but it was escalating badly
You rolled your eyes, going to help Bart with an unconscious beast boy. You three headed back to the aircraft without saying much despite you being able to see Bart opening his mouth and closing it again in hopes of finding the right words to break the ice between the two of you
You tended to Beast Boy’s wounds with Bart vibrating behind you, peering over your shoulder then zooming to and fro the small space whenever you requested for some medical ointments
The peace was broken when the rest of the team rolled in with looks of exasperation and exhaustion and Tim and Conner gone. Bart launched his questions, worry apparent in his voice and features but Cassie merely waved her hand to dismiss him
Starfire sat beside you, staring at a patched up Beast Boy, before muttering thanks to you. You looked at her from the corner of your eyes before nodding slightly
The moment you all touched down, Cyborg took Beast Boy in his arms, nudging you away when you were about to. Shrugging your shoulders, you retreated back to your room
Of course, that didn’t come easy as Bart tried to talk to you, chattering about endless subjects, following you till you both faced your bedroom door
You raised an eyebrow at him and for the first time you noticed the wrangling of his arms out of nervousness and the constant darting of eyes from corner to corner
“I just want you to know that you have a friend in me. I know it’s weird with how we almost died - but hey, we didn’t so that’s a win for us - and the team is falling apart - to which I find is totally ridiculous if you’re curious cause technically you can’t control your feelings for someone but I’m not saying that Red Robin is in the wrong but neither is he right but so is Conner but he’s always been emotional and there’s nothing wrong with that but, wait - what was I saying?”
You considered him, eyes scanning him from toe to the ends of his hair, putting him further on edge and a small part in you almost grin manically at that, before you hummed in acknowledgement and spinning into your room
Behind the closed door, you can hear him shouting about it’ll be nicer if you actually talk instead of just humming and nodding and going off tangent to which you smiled at before soaking yourself for a bath
After that day, you returned to your routine of avoiding everyone - despite Bart and Beast Boy knocking on your door every now and then with invitations; Bart being more annoying and persistent and threatening to vibrate through the walls - and stumbled upon Tim one late night when Bart was in the same room as you
Too engrossed in making a late-night snack, and half-listening to Bart’s one-sided conversation, you didn’t hear him creep around - kudos to Batman for teaching his sidekicks to be discreet successfully
“You’re still here?” His biting tone was what greeted you and with a blank expression, you raised an eyebrow at him
Bart, ever the peaceful one, jumped to your defence while trying to deter Tim from spiralling further into his foul mood
You pick up your snacks, glancing back one last time before leaving, scoffing “At least I add value to the team and not just participating in petty arguments.”
Tim snarled about how he was wanted, unlike you with the Amazons and the team
Your jaw tensed, blood turning cold, eyes seeing red and were ready to maul at him but Bart literally intervene
Somehow, that tick Tim the wrong way and him sneering about your boy toy and Bart being such an idiot, which was not surprising
Bewildered, he stood there with mouth agape not believing that the person in front of him was one of the people he always admired for his determination, levelheadedness and thoughtfulness
You rolled your eyes, mocking his emotional intelligence or lack thereof was the reason why he was so isolated from everyone despite how much he tried fitting in with people
Dragging a shell shocked Bart to the rooftop for an unplanned heart-to-heart
You didn't - or even bother to - see the hurt flitting briefly on Tim’s face
Discomfort was something rare when Bart was around but with how quiet he was, you started prattling about your life on Amazon without actually revealing much about your own history; you were not ready for that vulnerability
That somehow got his attention; with childlike wonder, he questioned you one after another and you patiently answered
You didn’t know how long you both stayed there and it was hard to keep track with how seamlessly the conversation flowed to his whereabouts and history and dreams but you knew when the sun bathed you two in sunlight, Bart was already dozing off while still murmuring about something
A/N: this,,, is way overdue. This whole series is.
Based on this.
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“What are you doing here?” She croaked, voice so foreign even to her own ears, clutching the door as if it was the ribbon tying her together - a facade of beauty and grace when beneath is nothing but a sham with a malfunctioning heart and a broken mind - and without it, she would fall apart with just the nudge in the right direction.
That nudge being the boy in front of her with the windswept hair and green eyes. Such a beauty. His mouth slightly agape and the brows slightly furrowing as if mocking her with how easily he could see past that facade and no matter how slight the defect was, he could see the difference. Such a mess.
Hands tightening, eyes steeling, voice hardening, “what are you doing here, Damian?”
She tried shaking his hand off but his grip was shackled to hers. Frowning, she glared at the contact, wishing she had Jon’s laser’s eyes so she could decapitate that hand; but she can’t hurt him even if she wanted to despite the emotions boiling over to hatred and envy and anger from her previous pathetic state.
His other arm wrapped around her waist, tugging her close, closer and so close to his chest she wouldn’t know where she started and where he ended. She didn’t know if it’s her stupid brain or if it’s his stupid heart that she could hear it beating so loud it resonated in her ears and suddenly the too-loud heart beating of her heart from her swelling emotions melted into a thudding that she somehow has familiarised herself with, the thudding her ears searched and hoped for to find a few months ago.
He raised her chin, eyes locking on hers then wiping the tears spilling over her waterline. Fingers brushing her skin like his paintbrush on canvas; a juxtaposition to how he fights and his firm voice - a sight meant for her and a sight she always sees. And she didn’t know whether to blame her brain or his heart when his eyes reflected hers.
She caught it before it fell. Thumbing under his eye, she watched him watch her, tears never stopping. Breath mingling, the warm air brushing her lips before panning over her cheek. He tilted. Nose touching her cheeks, his lashes brushing her glabella then her temple. Skin gliding against hers, fingers resting on her cheeks - barely there.
He’s whispering. She can’t quite grasp it. Words hanging in the air. Her brain locked on his touch.
Touched and stroked by his hardened fingers so softly like you were a marble statue; loved and cherished by Damian like you were a masterpiece he can’t quite believe. Oh, to be loved by the man you love; never have you felt such adoration.
i don't need protection but you have to know everyone lies
when the sky kisses the earth: 3
"I don't get why you're so attached to him."
"I'm-"
"The way I see it he's a suicidal bastard who doesn't know shit about the world."
"Jean-"
"I mean, okay boy, go ahead and join the survey corps but stop going around and preaching about you wanting to kill all titans. It's so presumptuous."
You sigh, forehead planted on the palm of your hand, as you stared at the bread in your hand. No thoughts, head empty.
"Huh? At least I have a goal in my life. What the hell are you even living for?" Eren growled from behind you. You sat up straight, glancing behind at him - teeth gritting and fists clenched. "And as far as I'm concerned, she can hang around anyone she wants. Or is your insecurity talking and you're so afraid that the people you call friends will leave you for your shitty attitude."
Eyes widening to saucers, you leaped up from your seat, a direct and literal intervention between the two before Jean retorts and it spiralled again. "Enough."
Eren's eyes rolled to you, taking in the annoyance etched onto your features, and he huffed. You pulled Eren out of the cafeteria by his arm and he followed albeit reluctantly.
"Oi!" The scrapping of chairs and his foot stomping after you two halted when Marco tried to placate him.
You slammed the door shut. In the dim light of the oil lantern, his eyes shine like that of a predator with fire reflected off the green panes of his eyes, watching your every move and unmoving, unblinking.
"You have to stop doing that." He raised an eyebrow at that and you could see, predicted down to the letters, of the words on the tip of his tongue propelled by the anger coursing through his veins. "I know. He started it but you don't always have to entertain him."
Eyebrows scrunching, he muttered, "Huh?" He took a step back, did a deliberate analysis from your head to your toe and back up across your folded arms and into your eyes, glaring daggers at him. "How can you stand him? He called me presumptuous but he's worse! And-and he talks as if you're some kind of inanimate object that belongs to him! So what if you hang around me? What is his problem?"
You grabbed his arm, ceasing his pacing away and back to you with arms gesturing wildly to shake off the energy bubbling underneath his skin, and forced his attention to you. "I can handle Jean. You don't have to get angry on my behalf over something you don't understand."
He squinted at you, eyes blazing with unbridled anger, "Whatever is going on between the two of you doesn't give him the rights to talk about you like that."
"He doesn't talk about me like in any way you think he is." Exasperated, you raised your voice in tandem to the racing heart lodged in your ear and all you could hear is the blood rushing as fast as the memories flashed past your mind. You jumped before he could say a thing. "Stop finding reasons to fuel the ego war you and Jean are having. I'm fine with the way things are." You let go of his arms, taking one last glance at him - features softening to one teetering between confusion and defensiveness - and stormed back to the girls' quarters.
In the company of the night, your memories and thoughts consumed you. Heart brimming with emotions that you couldn't pinpoint. Most of them lie in the realm of melancholy and you grunted in annoyance when the sound of falling footsteps sounded in crescendo after you.
"Please, just leave me be."
"I just want to apologise." Jean replied.
You swung back. Air caught in your throat when his passive face stared back at you. You blinked. "For what?"
He sighed, eyes flitting sideways as if his thoughts were painted in the shadows. "The way I try to intervene between you and Eren."
Your eyebrows shot up before furrowing then you shut your eyes and faced the sky, hands rubbing at your lids. "Jean-"
"No listen, please." Releasing a deep sigh, you looked back at him, eyes gleaming in an otherworldly fashion because that is not the Jean you know especially when his lips flattened to a frown in the manner he was doing at the moment. You pursed your lips. "You don't have to stick by me just because my mother saved you or that we took you in. You're not obliged to do anything for me or with me just because you feel like you owe my family something." He fidgeted. "And I'm sorry if I ever step out of my boundaries as a br-friend."
You frowned. He broke the eye contact and he left before you could fully comprehend what he said, mind set on drawing that boundary line and setting the distance. You groaned. Boys.
You chased him and with a calculated timing and location, you swung one leg around and hit the jackpot.
"WHAT THE HELL?" Jean whirled to face you, ire curling around him like a snake as he spat out at you.
"You're being an idiot."
His eye twitched at your blase reply. "I told you to stop doing that!"
"Then stop being an idiot." You rolled your eyes, pivoting on your feet and walking to the destination in mind. "Come on idiot, let's go."
He released a disgruntled scream, rubbing his ass, but followed you nonetheless, stomping after you to show his displeasure.
"You're such an idiot you know?" You huffed, arms clutching the basket with the breads, and stubbornly facing forward instead of him.
"Huh? You're the idiot. How can you just let someone talk to you like that." He clicked his tongue, hands shoved into his pants and eyes glaring at any lingering eyes, trudging after you. "You can't even protect yourself."
You swiveled back to him, eyes hardening and lips curled into a snarl. "I'm not some girl you have to protect Jean-boy. And even of I do need protecting, it won't be you because you're the biggest dumb dumb I know who always get in trouble and are always always always the one who needs protecting." You stomped your foot as the gavel to your conversation and huffed one last time as confirmation.
You continued your trek home. Your supposed 10 minute errand has stretched to include a stupid 20 minute waste of time thanks to Jean. Why did he insist so much on coming along anyways? He never helped to carry things nor did he make your life easier in any way. You huffed in irritation.
"You'll see."
You peered over your shoulder. Jean was pouting that's for certain - that usual sideway glance along with his clenched fist and rigid form as a defense mechanism in literal form.
"I'll be part of the military police and I'll be able to protect anyone."
You blinked once, then twice, and you nodded, humming in agreement. "Good luck with that."
He recoiled, eyes blinking rapidly to assure himself it's reality. He ran after your disappearing form, "is that all you have to say? I thought you wanted to join the army too!"
You looked at his inquisitive face by your side, "yeah, but I don't know which regiment to join."
He blanched, "don't tell me the scouting regiment."
"My brother's in that!" You countered, eyes squinting at him; face blanking and eyes hollow, muttering, "right."
Your heartstring tugged, did you say something wrong? "Jean?"
He shook his head, legs stretching out further and the next thing you knew you were trying to keep up with him. Through the huffs and puffs you're exhaling and the thundering beating of your heart in your ears, you called out to him.
"If you want to be part of the scouting regiment, you should keep up or you'll be titans' food." Your blood froze and your heart fell to your stomach, he never spoke to me like that and you felt like you've committed a great sin.
"We're going to get in trouble." He spoke, breaking the silence, eyes squinted at you through the darkness.
"So you're coming or not?" You tilted your head at him, more of a challenge than a question. He gave you a face before passing you and walking into the watchtower.
"What's your fascination with Eren anyways?" He leaned on the railings and you following suit - arms touching in an attempt to mess with him - but he didn't say anything, merely looking out at the mess of cadets migrating back to their quarters.
You mulled over your thoughts, "it's not fascination. More like admiration."
A second passed. He swiveled his head to you, features morphing into an ugly scowl. "You get to pine over Mikasa and I can't even have an eye candy? My, my Jean-boy, how selfish."
There were a myriad of thoughts which pass through his head, reflected by his ever-changing features, but he spoke none into existence and choosing to huff in indignation.
"Imagine that Jean! You and Mikasa, me and Eren. An unstoppable quartet. How sweet." You teased, looping an arm around his and poking his cheek with the other.
He grimaced before it fell. "We're already enough as it is."
Heart leaping, you ducked your head forward, itching to get a closer look at his face. "Yeah, of course. We're the stronger duo together."
He raised an eyebrow, eyes shifting to find yours and his gaze burnt into your mind; you prayed that your face is not as transparent as his. Heart squeezing and your mind filled with voices screaming over one another, you muttered, "realistically speaking, I can't beat Mikasa though. And I have to get to the top 10 to get into military police."
"Don't get any ideas." His voice has been the softest it has been throughout the night but his conviction peaked and you faltered, but gained your strength a second later - hopefully fast enough that he can't prod at it.
You laughed, voice carried over by the wind away from you two and hopefully your hidden promise along with it, "who'll take care of you if I'm not there?"
Summary: There are some things in life which are meant to be - like Damian taking over the mantle as Batman when he grows up - and there are some things in life which are meant to happen so others can grow.
Pairings: mainly Damian Wayne x Batsis!Reader
Warnings: Suicidal theme
Requested by: @loxbbg
A/N: This was done like two days ago... but I forgot to post it once I got home to my laptop. ANYWAYS, I hope you like it! The second part will be up sometime this week? As I feel that lumping this part with your second part of request a bit jarring in terms of theme. The title is the inspiration for this fic. Thank you for requesting! PS I’m always here if you need someone to talk to and I hope if you are feeling such ways, you are seeking help as well.
"Dami, I don't think I'm going on patrol tonight," you whispered. Eyes fixed on the window of his room.
Damian stopped. Hands frozen on the laces of his boots, he faced you by the doorway. The light from the corridor illuminating your silhouette and your expression shrouded in the darkness of his room. He can't see the very eyes which reflect the heart you usually wear on your sleeve nor can he see the smile on your lips. He can't see anything; an expression, a clue.
Something tugs at his heartstrings. He frowns. There's a lump in his throat. Hands trembling. Standing up with a boot forgotten, his attention wholly on you.
"All of us would be going for patrol." Will you be okay alone at home?
You faced him. Still nothing. Like looking at a statue.
"It's just a headache. You know how bad it can get." Don't worry about it, you have better things to worry about.
The tug is back. The lump is worse. On instinct, he straightened.
"TT, you should visit a doctor. It's not getting any better." It's foolish for you to think I will worry any less about you.
You sighed. It's tired and heavy. First clue. Only clue.
"I just need some rest, I'll be fine."
You straightened. Gave a small smile at him. Walked down the corridor.
He took a step forward. Stopped. He trusted you.
You would tell him if there's something wrong.
You would tell him everything.
You would… right?
Head shaking.
Heart heavy.
But he didn't.
Turned back around against his instinct.
He wore his other boot, hands flying with familiarity yet heart and mind on you.
You would.
You should.
But you didn't.
Staring at the sky, you wondered.
How it's like being something undeniably important to life.
You tried, you really did. But with every effort comes that voice inside your head whispering what-ifs.
You tried to think about how much of a disgrace you would be. How much disappointment that would mar their face. How much pain... their hearts would be, Damian especially.
Oh, silly Damian… Your other half yet someone so opposite of you. The ruler destined to take over your grandfather and the hero expected to take over your father. The brother your mother always encouraged and pushed yet when a flash of exhaustion passed by you, you would be told to rest. The brother who somehow easily fit into the mould of robin after your other brothers while you're shown sweet smiles and sweeter embraces when donning the batgirl costume.
But it's not his fault. It never was and never will be.
Would then mean it's yours?
Maybe if you were more optimistic, you could see the beauty in life as Dick would always say. Maybe if you were braver, you could be as strong as Jason to confront his fears. Maybe if you were smarter Like Tim, you could find various ways to get rid of this emptiness in your soul. Maybe if…
Should you find somewhere further to do this? Somewhere where they can’t find you?
Mind reeling, eyes flitting. Glancing at the pills, you swallowed it.
Head resting on the tub, you finally feel at peace. Memories with your family play like a movie for the last time. Eyelids get heavier. And exhale.
Exhale.
In uneasiness. To get rid of this heavy feeling in his chest. His leg started to bounce.
“Is everything okay Damian?” Bruce asked as he drove the batcar home.
He hummed in reply. Bruce rose an eyebrow. But he knew better. So he just observes.
“Father, do you think she’s hiding anything from me?”
His voice was so small. Body made smaller. He never saw Damian like this, but he doesn’t blame him. You were Damian’s everything - his voice of reason, his emotional support and in essence his other half.
“What makes you think so?”
“There’s this… My chest feels heavy.”
Damian struggles with showing emotions, he knew that; like father, like son. To see the worry creasing his forehead above the mask and the mouth tugging downwards into a pout, it must have been plaguing his mind for some time.
“Why don’t you visit her later? It would definitely help.”
He hummed in reply. And so he did.
Jumping out of the car, he made a beeline towards your room. Even when Alfred called out to him to change first, Bruce dismissing him on Damian’s behalf and his brothers’ inquisitive stare, his mind was fixed. Through the study room and the hallways, up the grand staircase and pass through the winding hallways. The feeling in his chest grew like a parasite - chest and arms and legs heavy like lead. His march turns to a slight jog and turns to full speed ahead.
He threw the doors open.
It’s dark.
The curtains are closed. The bed is made.
Where?
He flipped the switch.
He feels like vomiting.
Where?
He swallows the lump in his throat.
He checks every crevice in the room.
Where?
Eyes burning with unshed tears.
His eyes finally glanced to the bathroom.
There.
But something is calling out to him.
Don’t.
But he was never one for following orders. Even with his head pounding with various possibilities and his vision blurry with the tears now flowing down his face to which he does not know when did it start but that’s not what concerns him nor the gnawing pain in his heart which becomes worse with every step forward and the distance shortens but so does his breath and it felt like his lungs are burning and his mind clouding and he --
Stops.
So does his heart.
His mind does not register it.
But his instinct does and his steps fall forward.
To you.
His hands, trembling, graze your neck for a pulse. Then, your nose for a breath.
You’re cold.
He carries you out of the tub and into his arms. Hug you a bit tighter, closer, until there’s no saying as to where you end and where he starts.
And that’s how Dick finds you two.
First, confusion flit past his mind. Then, discomfort at Damian’s sobs.
He hardly cries. You’re not breathing.
He shouts for his family before leaping into action. He separated your body from Damian who was shell shocked at the prospect of your missing body so he fought and tried grabbing you back between all the threats and sobs then the begging and crying to which Dick’s heartbreak at every plead that comes flying out of Damian’s mouth but he couldn’t give in to him because you need help and you don’t deserve this and he’s so confused and this situation is so --
“What… the hell?”
Jason took one look at the mess - between your limp body, Dick’s plead of help and Damian’s desperateness. No, he refuses.
Tim, just right at Jason’s heels, came out blank. Only questions fill his mind and no answers. Too much information and yet too little. Why?
"What the fuck are you doing? We need to get her to the hospital!" Jason gently took your form.
"No! Give her back! Don't touch her! Let her go!" Damian's shrill voice echoed in the mansion, clawing at Dick's bleeding arms wrapped around his torso as he glared at Jason through the tears.
Jason stared. He refused. He turned.
Then bumped into something - someone.
"What… No… What happened to her?" Bruce's voice and facade broke in every possible way.
His large hands skimmed your neck then your face. It's cold, too cold.
"Master Bruce, I suggest…" Alfred's voice faded at the scene.
Damian limp in Dick's arms, wailing for something - the first time he ever saw Damian so broken because even in his death, he never feared. Dick, always the empath, was caressing Damian but the action held no love; it was like he was doing it because he had to. Tim was frozen by the bathroom doorway gazing at something far away like his brain has failed him and that's all he ever was and now all that was left was a husk of a man. Jason, with his big stature, was cradling something - someone - but his face shows anything but strength as his lips quivered and eyebrows furrowed. Bruce was mumbling, caressing the hair of his daughter, tears not showing any sign of stopping nor did it register in his mind; he was as far too gone in his mind.
It was like a movie; it felt so surreal.
He felt like he was peeking into a window of a family who has lost everything.
But it was not; that was his family grieving.
And he blamed himself.
He was here with you. He should have checked up on you. He should have listened to the voice nagging at his mind. He should have insisted he stayed with you when you told him to assist them with the batcomputer. He should have… been better.
And it echoed in the minds of 5 other people.
The mansion was always quiet at this time; moon high yet soon to be replaced by the sun. But never with the air heavy and the family gathered in one room. Never with the mansion echoing cracked voices and rasped cries. Never with hollow souls and breaking hearts. Never with one less member in this too huge of a mansion.
