Duty and Devotion / Talia Al Ghul x Star Sapphire!Female Reader
Which, Talia and Y/n navigate the complexities of their respective responsibilities. But, despite the weight of their obligations, the two women find time for each other, stealing quiet moments that reinforce their love.
Word count: 3572
A/n: This was requested by an anon. Enjoy it!
Talia al Ghul swept through the corridors of her estate like a shadow, her dark silk robes whispering around her ankles. Every step she took carried the weight of responsibility, the League of Shadows demanding both precision and grace from its leader. The same hands that mastered weapons and assassins now held a cup of tea, an unusual but tender gesture meant for someone waiting for her upstairs.
Through the halls of this fortress of shadows lived something—someone—who had slipped beneath Talia’s carefully cultivated armor. She ascended the staircase to her chambers, her expression softened ever so slightly at the thought of the person inside. A familiar glow peeked from beneath the door: the telltale shimmer of violet light that belonged to her beloved.
Inside, the soft hum of cosmic energy filled the air. Y/n hovered lazily off the bed, a swirling aura of magenta and violet surrounding her like a cocoon. The Star Sapphire power crystal pulsed faintly on her hand, synchronizing with the beat of her heart as she communed with the emotional energy of love. Yet even as Y/n's focus remained elsewhere, the smile on her face was immediate the moment Talia entered.
“Took you long enough,” Y/n teased, opening one eye as she drifted down from her levitation. “I was starting to think I’d have to storm your League meeting.”
Talia smirked in response, her lips quirking with amusement. “Tempting, though I fear you’d embarrass me in front of my subordinates.” She set the tea down on the nightstand, her gaze softening. “How goes the war of the heart?”
Y/n let out a small laugh, the sound rich with warmth. “Same as always. The universe is full of people who don’t know how to love properly.”
“And yet you remain here, tethered to me.” Talia’s voice was velvety smooth, low with affection, as she sat gracefully beside her on the bed.
“How could I not?” Y/n whispered, leaning in until their foreheads touched. “You’re my favorite distraction.”
The two of you lingered in that closeness for a moment, savoring the silence, the bond between them woven not only from passion but also from trust. The kind of trust that lets two people, both powerful and burdened, take refuge in one another. Their hands tangled together without thought, her fingers cool against the warm glow of Y/n’s aura.
“We’re doing this, huh?” Y/n asked softly, brushing her thumb across Talia’s knuckles. “Balancing love and duty without destroying ourselves?”
Talia let out a rare chuckle, the sound a delicate ripple of amusement. “If we can rule worlds and command armies, surely we can manage a relationship.”
“Ha. Famous last words.”
But despite the playful tone, the truth of it ran deeper. Both of you bore responsibilities—Talia with her empire of shadows, you with the cosmic force of love as a Star Sapphire. It could have easily pulled you apart, these burdens. And yet, here you were, finding pockets of peace in stolen moments like these.
“Sometimes I wonder,” Talia murmured, brushing a strand of hair from Y/n’s face, “how it is that I can feel like myself only when I am with you.”
Y/n cupped her cheek, her ring pulsing with soft light in answer to the love thrumming through her veins. “I think love does that. It doesn’t change who you are—it just shows you who you could be.”
Talia kissed her then, slow and deliberate, the kind of kiss that tasted like promises. Y/n melted into it, her hands slipping into her hair as the familiar spark between them ignited. But just as it began to deepen, Talia’s phone buzzed insistently from across the room, dragging both of them back to reality.
Talia pulled back with a soft exhale, her forehead resting against Y/n’s. “Duty calls,” she said, regret lacing her words.
Y/n sighed, nodding in understanding. “Same here.”
It was the unspoken agreement between you two: love would never be abandoned, but neither would your responsibilities. You knew what you’d signed up for when you chose her, just as she knew what it meant to love a Star Sapphire. There were meetings to attend, battles to fight, and worlds—both cosmic and earthly—that needed saving.
But neither of you doubted that you’d find your way back to each other. Always.
As Talia stood to answer her call, Y/n floated off the bed once more, summoning her violet aura to life around her. Talia glanced over her shoulder, her expression unreadable but her gaze heavy with meaning.
“Until tonight?” she asked.
Y/n gave her a wink, her body already shimmering with the light of her ring. “Always.”
And with that, Y/n vanished in a flash of violet light, leaving behind nothing but the lingering warmth of love.
———————
Talia leaned back against the windowsill, watching the last traces of your violet light fade from the room. Even with Y/n’s absence, the air seemed to hum with her presence, like the afterglow of a dream she didn’t want to wake from.
A soft sigh escaped her lips. She was no stranger to duty. Her life had been built on sacrifice—carrying the weight of her father’s empire on her shoulders, commanding assassins, and navigating endless political intrigues. She thrived in the cold, calculated edges of the world. But with Y/n, everything was different. Warmth. Light.
Talia had always thought of love as a distraction, something dangerous and uncontrollable. Yet somehow, with Y/n, it wasn’t a hindrance. It became an anchor. A balance she hadn’t known she needed.
On the other side of the galaxy, Y/n hovered in the silent expanse of space, her violet aura pulsing gently around her. A holographic construct of her communicator shimmered to life on her wrist. The image of an alien woman, one of her fellow Star Sapphires, flickered into view.
“Are you sure you should be on Earth so much?” she asked, her brow arched. “The emotional tether you’ve formed there… It’s strong.”
Y/n gave her a small, knowing smile. “Love is the whole point, right? I can’t exactly do my job if I ignore it.”
The alien Sapphire tilted her head but didn’t argue. “Just don’t lose yourself. Your duty to the Star Sapphires—”
“—is still my priority,” Y/n assured her, though your thoughts drifted back to Talia. “I know what I’m doing.”
The connection ended, leaving her alone in the cosmos. It was an unspoken struggle, balancing the responsibilities of two worlds: the Star Sapphire Corps and her love for Talia. The universe constantly demanded Y/n’s attention, and yet she always found herself drawn back to Earth—to her.
Y/n raised her ringed hand, letting the light it emitted swirl into a familiar construct: a glowing outline of Talia’s face, serene and sharp, just as she’d looked moments ago. A soft laugh escaped Y/n. She’d never intended to fall in love with someone like her—a woman wrapped in shadows and power. But somehow, she’d taken her heart and held it as if it were her most treasured possession.
And the truth was, Y/n didn’t mind. She would fight for her responsibilities—and for her.
———————-
Later that night, the sound of gentle rain pattered against the windows of Talia’s estate. She slipped silently through the hallways, her presence like a shadow gliding over stone. Her day had been filled with strategies and whispered threats, but now the only thing on her mind was Y/n.
She found Y/n in her quarters, lying on the bed in the same languid sprawl she often took when she wanted to tease Talia about how much she “missed” her, even if only hours had passed. Y/n’s aura shimmered faintly, and she wore a content expression as if the whole universe could wait while she lay here, waiting for Talia.
“You’re back early,” Talia observed as she slipped off her robe, draping it across a nearby chair.
“Missed me?” Y/n teased, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
Talia shot her a glance that was equal parts amused and exasperated, but she couldn’t deny the truth. “Terribly.”
Y/n opened her arms in invitation, and with a soft huff of mock impatience, Talia slid into her embrace. The moment her body pressed against Y/n’s, everything else—the League, the Corps, the endless demands—melted away. There was only this: the quiet rhythm of her breath, the warmth of Y/n’s body against hers, and the unspoken promise that no matter where their duties pulled them, they would always return to each other.
“You’ve been working too hard,” Y/n whispered, her fingers trailing gently along her back.
“So have you,” Talia murmured, her voice low and intimate.
“We are terrible at taking breaks.”
Talia smirked, her lips brushing the skin just below Y/n’s ear. “Then let’s make the most of this one.”
Y/n hummed in agreement, shifting so Talia was tucked beneath her chin, her slender form fitting perfectly against hers. For a moment, there was only the sound of rain outside and the steady beat of two hearts in perfect sync.
Talia’s hand drifted lazily over the glowing ring on Y/n’s finger, her fingers tracing its intricate lines. “I sometimes wonder,” she whispered, “if the universe gave you to me by accident. Or if fate had plans I never saw coming.”
Y/n tilted her chin upward and kissed her, slow and tender. When she pulled back, her lips barely brushed Talia’s as she whispered, “Not an accident. Definitely fate.”
Talia’s lips quirked, but her eyes softened in the way they only did when she was with Y/n. “Good. I’d rather not have to fight fate.”
The night stretched on in quiet bliss. The weight of their respective responsibilities lingered in the background, ever-present, but for now, neither of them cared. Here, in the sanctuary of each other’s arms, the rest of the world could wait.
It was always like this—brief moments stolen from the chaos of their lives, woven together into something precious. Y/n knew tomorrow would bring new challenges and new missions. Talia would return to her world of shadows, and she would return to her cosmic patrols.
But no matter what came next, this—she and her—was constant. A promise written in the stars and carved into the deepest parts of their souls.
And as they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, Y/n knew without a doubt: no matter where duty was called, love would always bring her home.
Bonus chapter:
The early morning light filtered through the sheer curtains of Talia’s estate, casting soft, golden beams across the stone floor. Y/n was sitting cross-legged on the rug, a mug of tea cradled in her hands, watching Talia from the corner of her eye. Talia stood at the window, regal even in moments of rest, the light highlighting her sharp cheekbones.
Moments like these were rare—domestic, quiet, and soft around the edges. No missions. No space duties. Just the two of them. Or, well… three.
A quick pattering of footsteps echoed down the hall, followed by the familiar sound of Damian Wayne’s voice. “Mother, where is my—oh.” He stopped short in the doorway, eyeing Y/n with that cool, calculating expression she knew all too well.
“Good morning to you, too, kid,” Y/n teased, taking a sip of her tea.
Damian crossed his arms over his chest, the faintest hint of a frown tugging at his lips. “I’m not a kid.”
Y/n smirked. “Right. You’re practically ancient now at thirteen.”
Talia turned from the window, her gaze softening as it landed on her son. “What is it, habibi? You seem restless.”
Damian hesitated as if weighing his next words carefully. It was rare to see him so uncertain, though Y/n supposed her presence—and the unusual display of affection between her and his mother—was still something he was getting used to.
Finally, he cleared his throat. “I need my practice sword. The new one you promised.”
Talia arched an elegant brow. “And where exactly did you leave your old one?”
Damian’s frown deepened. “It was a tactical miscalculation. I left it at Father’s.”
Y/n snorted into her tea, earning a sharp look from the boy. He was always so serious, always carrying the weight of the world on his small, determined shoulders. It was a bit like looking at a miniature version of Talia—just as intense, just as proud.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Y/n said with a grin. “Even a Star Sapphire can misplace things. I once left my ring floating in orbit around a moon for three days.”
Damian gave you an unimpressed look. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”
Before Y/n could reply, Talia stepped in smoothly, placing a hand on her son’s shoulder. “Your training can wait a few hours. You’ve earned a morning of rest.”
Damian blinked, clearly not expecting that answer. “Rest is unnecessary. Discipline is—”
“Non-negotiable,” Talia finished with a small smile. “Yes, I know. But even assassins and warriors need time to recharge, Damian.”
Y/n leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm. “She’s right, you know. And if you take a break, we could do something… fun.”
Damian gave the woman a skeptical look, one eyebrow raised. “Your idea of fun involves flying across space.”
“And yours involves throwing shurikens at things,” Y/n shot back, grinning. “But I was thinking more along the lines of a sparring match. Unless you’re scared?”
His eyes narrowed instantly. “I’m not scared.”
“Oh, I know,” Y/n said, standing and stretching her arms over her head. “But I am curious to see if you’ve improved.”
Talia watched the exchange with an expression that could only be described as amused fondness, her arms crossed loosely. It wasn’t often that someone could tease Damian without provoking outright hostility, but Y/n had a way of slipping through his defenses just enough to keep him on his toes.
Damian turned sharply on his heel. “I’ll get my practice sword. Don’t go anywhere.”
The moment he disappeared down the hall, Y/n caught the faintest hint of a smile on Talia’s lips. “He likes you, you know,” she said softly.
Y/n laughed. “He has a funny way of showing it.”
Talia stepped closer, her hands resting lightly on Y/n’s waist. “For Damian, tolerance is the highest compliment. But I think, in time, he’ll grow to love you.”
Y/n kissed her, slow and soft, savoring the brief moment of closeness. “Good,” she murmured against her lips. “Because I already love him. Almost as much as I love you.”
Talia’s eyes sparkled with something rare—pure, unguarded joy. It was a look she reserved only for Y/n and, perhaps in quieter moments, for her son.
The sound of Damian’s return echoed through the halls, the clattering of his practice sword loud and intentional.
“I hope you’re ready to lose,” he called out, marching into the room with his sword in hand. “I won’t go easy on you just because Mother likes you.”
Y/n grinned and summoned a violet construct—a glowing, translucent blade to match his. “Bring it on, kid.”
————————
Talia watched from the sidelines as the two of them squared off, her heart full. For once, the shadow of the League seemed distant, and the burdens of the universe felt lighter. This—family—was what she had never dared dream of.
As Damian lunged forward and Y/n met him with a burst of playful energy, Talia knew she had found her perfect balance.
The violet construct of Y/n’s sword shimmered brightly in her hand as Damian charged forward, his practice blade arcing in a precise swing. Y/n blocked it with a resounding hum of energy, the impact rippling through her aura. The boy’s stance was impeccable—disciplined, quick, and fierce, just like his mother’s. But Y/n could tell he was holding back.
“Come on, Damian,” Y/n teased, twirling the glowing sword in her hand. “I thought the heir to the League of Shadows would hit harder than that.”
His eyes narrowed with fiery determination. “I don’t need to hit hard. I need to outsmart you.”
Before Y/n could respond, Damian feinted left, spinning with impressive agility, and aimed a strike at her side. Y/n parried with ease, blocking his blade with an effortless flick of her wrist.
“Nice try.”
Damian gritted his teeth and came at her again, faster this time, clearly frustrated. He moved like a whirlwind, driven and precise, each blow sharper than the last. Y/n admired his skill—he was good. But no matter how talented he was, she had something in her corner that even the most dangerous assassin lacked: cosmic energy.
With a flick of her ring, Y/n conjured a glowing, violet construct—a replica of him. Damian stopped short, wide-eyed as he faced himself in the form of radiant energy. His double gave him an exaggerated bow.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Damian muttered under his breath, exasperation flickering across his face.
“You fight well,” the construct said in your voice, mimicking the boy’s stance perfectly. “But how do you fight yourself?”
Damian narrowed his eyes, jaw set, and lunged at the duplicate without hesitation. His sword sliced through the construct with surgical precision, shattering it into shimmering violet shards.
“Cute trick,” he huffed.
“Thanks,” Y/n smirked, dispersing the remaining shards into the air with a wave of her hand. “But you’re still too serious, kid.”
Damian’s lips pressed into a tight line. “Focus is not a flaw.”
“Oh, but it is a weakness,” Talia’s voice purred from the sidelines.
Both Y/n and Damian turned toward her. She had leaned against the doorframe, her arms folded, a look of amusement dancing in her eyes. “You let her distract you,” Talia pointed out, gesturing toward Y/n with a small, knowing smile.
Damian’s scowl deepened. “She’s using alien powers. That’s not fair.”
Y/n shot him a grin. “Love isn’t fair, kid.”
He groaned under his breath, sheathing his practice sword with an air of melodramatic frustration. “You’re both insufferable.”
Talia gave a soft chuckle, the kind of laugh she rarely let escape. “You’ll understand one day, habibi.”
Damian rolled his eyes. “Doubtful.”
Despite his grumbling, Y/n caught the brief flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Beneath all his layers of irritation and discipline, she knew there was fondness—however reluctant—budding between the two of them.
————————-
After the sparring session, the three of them moved to the garden behind Talia’s estate. It was a surprisingly peaceful space for someone with as dangerous a life as hers. Towering trees and fragrant blossoms lined the courtyard, creating a quiet refuge from the chaos that often consumed their lives.
Damian sat cross-legged under a tree, polishing his sword with careful precision. Meanwhile, Talia rested against Y/n’s side on a bench, her hand loosely intertwined with hers. The late morning sun cast a soft, golden glow over the garden, and for a moment, the world felt still.
“These moments are rare,” Talia murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Y/n gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Then we’ll make them count.”
Talia tilted her head slightly, her dark green eyes tracing the contours of Y/n’s face with quiet affection. “How is it,” she mused, “that someone with the entire universe at their fingertips chooses to stay here?”
Y/n leaned in, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Because love is my power source, remember? And you—” Y/n paused, brushing a lock of hair from her face. “You and Damian are all the fuel I need.”
Talia’s lips curved into a rare, genuine smile, and for a moment, the weight of her responsibilities seemed to lift.
From his spot under the tree, Damian gave a small, exaggerated cough. “Are you two going to be gross all day?”
Talia shot him a warning look, though the amusement never left her face. “Respect your elders, Damian.”
He muttered something under his breath about how emotional displays were unnecessary, but Y/n could see the way his shoulders had relaxed, his guarded walls lowered—if only slightly.
Y/n grinned at him. “One day, kid, you’re going to meet someone who makes you just as insufferable as us.”
“I highly doubt that,” Damian said flatly, but the slight twitch of his lips betrayed him.
As the afternoon stretched on, Y/n found herself lying on the grass, Talia resting her head on her chest while Damian sat nearby, half-listening to the conversation. Y/n told stories about her space patrols—of distant stars, alien lovers reunited, and the strange wonders of the universe. Damian listened with reluctant curiosity, occasionally chiming in with sharp-witted remarks.
Talia, for her part, seemed content just to listen to the cadence of Y/n’s voice. Every now and then, she would glance at her son, her gaze warm with unspoken pride.
In this strange, mismatched family, Y/n found something that felt miraculous: home.
And as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting the garden in soft shades of twilight, Y/n knew without a doubt that no matter where her duties took her—across the stars or into the depths of danger—she would always return to them.
To Talia, the woman who had wrapped herself around her heart like the shadows she commanded.
To Damian, the fierce boy who tried so hard not to care—and failed spectacularly.
And to the love that bound all three of them together in a way that no mission, no galaxy, and no enemy could ever break.