What We Want - Chpt. 2 - First (Second) Introductions

What We Want - Chpt. 2 - First (Second) Introductions

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

Tim Drake was an obsessive creature by nature. Ever since he was little, he’d always been easily swallowed by his obsessions. His wants and desires, the little things that fascinated him. And, more than that, he never fought it. He gave himself into it, wholly. It was how he’d gotten this far in life.

He’d taught himself how to code, how to hack. He discovered Batman and Nightwing’s true identities. He’d learnt how to fight, how to keep the city safe, how to fling oneself off a building without fainting. He’s taped the family back together again and again after every splinter. He was one of only two Robins left, and that would soon be the only once Bruce retired and Damian graduated.

And this was all done through obsession. And it was obsession. He was self-aware enough to know that. While the rest of the family often indulged in delusions, he never had the time for them. He’d spent countless nights pushing his lagging body along with caffeine and sheer willpower. He’d often forget to sleep or eat even on the calmer days. All that was to say, Tim Drake was obsessive.

But, his obsessions never lasted. Sure, he’d keep the skills and the relationships he’d make, but when the dust settled, he’d find himself feeling empty. Tim Drake was obsessive yes, but his true obsession was the conquest. The rush he’d get when he finally claimed a new skill, a new person, a new piece of knowledge or wisdom.

And then, too quickly, far too quickly, the rush would disappear. The tingle in his spine would leave, the energy would disappear, and that feverish nature of his would flatten. Cool down. The others in the family knew it as one of his ‘moods’, but Tim thought it was probably more than that. Still, he was definitely in one of them right now.

It didn’t matter. None of it really mattered. The point was, right now, he was quite simply depressed. Bummed out, if you would. He’d finished a mission from Bruce, one that had taken him months of desperate, undying effort, and it was now done. And he didn’t have anything to do.

It sucked.

Boredom was a sinister demon. While Tim was by far the most emotionally stable of the family, he was still, well- not. Not by a long shot, honestly. The League’s mandatory therapy sessions had confirmed that. He just needed something to entertain himself, and quick. Usually, on a day like this, he’d be at home working on any random degree.

Unfortunately, he had responsibilities. He could not alleviate his boredom, because he was in the most boring place on earth.

A party. Not a party by any normal person’s standards, but one of his adoptive father’s galas. Even more horrifying, Bruce Wayne was in attendance. He was doing his billionaire playboy persona, and Tim couldn’t stomach it. It was no shock no one else had shown up. Even Dick was busy in Bludhaven, and he sometimes enjoyed these. Sometimes.

And once again, as every year, the birthday girl was nowhere to be seen.

Tim’s eyes rove over the very boring gala. Your gala, for your birthday. You weren’t here, because you never were. He couldn’t blame you. These balls sucked, even the better ones. This one was miserable, and the atmosphere was sombre. While it was your birthday, it was more than that, a day of death.

Your family had died, Bruce’s new wife had died, and all the siblings he never really got the opportunity to meet, gone in a brilliant flash.

And Jason. Jason, who now walked the earth again, flesh and blood. Jason, who tore himself through a wooden coffin and grave dirt. Jason, who even Dick couldn’t seem to bring back into the family. Jason, alive and well and probably spending the night at Roy’s house. It was still the anniversary of his death, and while Jason did his best to put on a front, anyone with half a brain could tell he found today… upsetting.

But, he was alive. That was more than Tim could say for your family.

None of these people knew that. They saw one of the great Wayne’s dead, and they mourned. They saw the new wife and step-children of Bruce Wayne dead, and they lamented. Tim was sure most of it was faked, at least in this gala. The rest of the city truly grieved the Wayne family's tragedy. Especially Jason, one of the princes of the city. But here? No, they just wanted to rub shoulders with Bruce.

The man you very clearly insisted had never been your father, and never would be, was… probably a little sad. Tim was probably a little sadistically pleased about that. He was bored, alright? Anyway, Bruce did not know how to deal with you, and you with him. Both of you were stubborn people, unable to communicate or reach a place of cooperation. You never showed up to the galas or the manor, you did everything in your power to never have to interact with anyone from the family. The only reason you even still lived in Gotham was to be close to your dead family. And above all, you made sure that everyone knew how much you hated Bruce. That the sight of his aging face made you nauseous. Everyone else found that hilarious, of course.

And Bruce, because he was stubborn, kept trying to reach you, despite your angry protests. Even if he had absolutely zero legal ties to you, he still kept trying. And so, another birthday party passes without its leading star. The memorial tomorrow would be missing you too. Christmas, easter, hanukkah, new years, Rosh Hashanah, you refused to show up to any of them.

Still, he had to agree with Bruce. They couldn’t just leave you. Not with the way you were.

You’d once quietly admitted to him that you hoped you’d one day go to sleep and not wake up. That you’d rot away in your room, disappear from the world entirely. That was one of the last few times he talked to you face-to-face. And then a few months after that, you’d blocked him on all social media.

He’d read hundreds of books on therapy, and he knew what suicidal idealisation looked like. Luckily for his sanity, he was not your therapist, nor was he your keeper.

That was poor old Dick’s job, and he was, hilariously, failing at it. Badly. Technically, you were the second massive failure Dick had taken on, and it was starting to show in his mental state. Old Dickie was spending more and more time in Bludhaven, preferring to patrol there instead of Gotham. Still, he insisted he could get through to you. Tim was doubtful. Dick had better luck with Jason, of all people.

Jason actually wanted to be a part of this family. You hated them all, viciously. And so, you’d obviously never show up at-

Wait. Wait, no. He definitely recognised that face. Why the hell were you here? Well, that was irritating. Tim prided himself on being prepared for any situation, for any unlikelihood. He was the son who would be taking over Wayne Enterprises, after all.

You being in the same room as Bruce Wayne was impossible. Completely impossible. At least willingly. You should be kicking and screaming, scratching like a hellcat at anyone who tried to make you stay. Instead, you’re standing in the middle of a crowd, chugging back champagne like your life depends on it. He could already imagine the chaos the media would be starting, to his misery. ‘Estranged ex-Wayne shows up at birthday gala and drinks like a fish’. Well, he had been complaining about being bored. Careful what you wish for, and all.

Shit. He was not prepared for this.

He was, despite it being your birthday, not at all expecting you to be here. He didn’t even have a present. Shit. He pulls out his phone and shoots off an order to his assistant, who would probably go to Dick’s for help.

He sees you over there, obviously uncomfortable, and realises he should probably rescue you. He tells himself he should, that he’s gonna get up and go do it.

Instead, he crosses his legs at the ankle, leans back in his chair, and watches. You won’t catch him off guard twice. He has his pride, after all.

You throw another glass of champagne back. Tim winces. Okay, maybe you might. This was all a bit of a shock. And the rest of the gala seemed just as surprised at your appearance as he was. They obviously didn’t know what to do about you, creating a wide ring of people who refused to step closer to you. And you seem oblivious to the social pariah you have suddenly become. Or maybe uncaring, as you’ve already claimed an entire buffet table and champagne tray for yourself.

Just… just drinking. You seem to only care about ingesting more alcohol and confectionaries. It’s your twenty-first, but uh… this definitely doesn’t look like the first time you’ve been drinking. Not that he cared if this was your first time drinking. He’d done his fair share of illegal activities. Sure, they were mostly superhero stuff, but still illegal. Frankly, it’s kind of impressive. You might even be able to drink Jason or Alfred under the table.

…Good for you, he guesses. A talent’s a talent.

He realises, after a few minutes, that you have absolutely zero plans of socialising. You’d showed up here of your own free will, and then just scared off anyone who’d talk to you. Not that there’d be many who’d be interested in talking to the swaying woman who looked like a threat to herself and everyone around her. No, you were still just drinking. You’d gotten halfway down the buffet table, trying every single cake and a few of the savoury items as well.

You kept circling back to have more champagne and Victorian sponge, and then you’d go back to wherever you were in the buffet and try something from there. Your choices seemed sporadic, and more than once you spat something back out into a napkin. You look at some of the dishes like you think they might be poisonous, taking wide circles around them.

He rests his elbows on the table, leaning forward to press his face to his intertwined fingers. He’s definitely past the point where he should go help you. You’re making a mess, both physically and socially, and yet, he still just sits there. He can’t help himself, it’s interesting.

“Tim.”

Uh oh, your knight in shining armor is here. Or well, dark. Bruce had never been known for pastels. Tim turns his head to the giant man blocking out the light, giving his father and leader a smile.

“Hey Dad,” he greets, in an open attempt at manipulation.

Bruce shakes his head, not caving begrudgingly like he usually did. Shit, that usually worked. Guess he must be actually mad. He glances from Tim to the object of Tim’s apt fascination. You. He turns back, looking down at Tim with his ‘I’m trying to be a good dad’ look. It’s not very convincing.

“How long has she been doing this?” Bruce asks, straight to the point as always.

“Twenty-seven minutes. You’re ruining my process,” Tim replies, telling B to screw off in the kindest way possible. He doesn’t take the hint, because he’s a bit of an ass. Even Batman fanboy Tim could recognise that.

“You can’t just count when someone is getting drunk in front of the public. You need to actually do something.” Bruce shakes his head, hand lifting to massage his brow. It was just that easy to give the old man a migraine. Poor baby probably needed some Ibruprofen. Tim had some in his pocket, but he wasn’t going to offer.

“I was going to eventually. And aren’t you curious? She refuses to show her face for months, and then pops out of the blue to… what? Steal from your liquor cabinet? She knows she doesn’t have to come to get whatever she wants,” Tim ignores B’s nagging, turning his gaze back to you. You’re having a love affair with that cake, honestly. Oh, you’re going for another shot… You do realise the stuff you’re chugging goes for millions, right?

You probably don’t care. You never had about money.

“It doesn’t matter. She’s here, and we should be taking care of her. This is obviously her reaching out for help, and she obviously needs it,” B insists, splaying his worn and scarred hands over the table. Tim has the same hands, everyone in the family does. Vigilante work left scars and callouses.

“Then why hasn’t she come over here, yet? My theory is she’s just trying to smear your good image. Which doesn’t need smearing in the first place, but who understands the minds of young, drunk and miserable women?” Certainly not Tim, as he had proven in his relationship with Stephanie.

“Tim, enough with the sass. Go and help her.”

“She’s not your responsibility anymore, B.”

“Her mother would disagree. Now go,” Bruce orders, his words final. Because they always are, in the end.

Tim groans, letting his head fall back. He glares at the ceiling and all the sparkling diamonds strewn about, and then he pulls himself to his feet. Cracks his shoulders, and parts the Red Sea with a glance. The crowd in the gala splits so the young heir can easily find his way through, and he gives everyone he passes a kind smile.

He strides up to your side, calmly waiting for you to notice him. You’re still imbibing, completely oblivious to his presence. It’s funny. And fascinating. Usually, you were so paranoid that he wondered how you weren’t always a single breath away from a panic attack. Like a feral animal, ready at a moment’s notice to fight or flight.

He sees that you’re dealing with those social anxieties in a way befitting the Wayne name. Which is to say, absolutely shit. His head tilts eyes flickering over you. You don’t look too good, which is no real surprise. Even with your people’s perfect styling, they can’t cover up the shaking and sweating in your form. It might just be anxiety, but knowing you, it’s probably not. He wonders if you even notice how sick you are.

You don’t look like you notice much of anything. Maybe the cake, but that seemed to be pushing it.

“Oh, so you actually showed up? Colour me surprised,” Tim starts but is unable to continue when you spin on your heel and drop your flute of champagne. It crashes to the ground, and he finds his socks becoming uncomfortably wet.

The two of you look up from the mess and meet gazes. Your mouth is open in horror, eyes comically wide. Tim has to bite the inside of his lip so as not to immediately burst into laughter.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, you do a weird crouch-pop-up movement, and then your eyes swivel around frantically, “I’m- am I supposed to clean this up? I can totally clean this up.”

You look just about ready to kneel into a pile of thin glass shards, so Tim stops you. Because God knows Bruce would hang him from the rafters if he didn’t.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Somebody else will handle this. It’s your birthday after all, right?” he says, giving you a charming smile. It’s sort of a shock when you don’t scoff at him, and instead just stand there with a deer-in-headlights sort of look.

“Hey, are you alright?” Tim asks when you don’t say anything else.

You startle, and then blink at him rapidly. Distracted and inebriated. Lovely. He doesn’t think you know what you’re doing here either, which was a bad sign for your mental health. Have you been refusing to go to your therapist again?

It wasn’t like he went either, so he couldn’t judge.

“I’m good,” you say, your words only slightly slurred. You blink again, your head cants towards the floor, and then you glance back up at him. You look like he’s caught you committing a crime. “Do you- uh, want some of the cake? Sorry for stealing it all, it’s really good.”

You were acting… really strange. Tim found himself with the undeniable urge to follow along with your strangeness.

“You know what? Yes, yes I would,” he says, taking one of the little plates of strawberry cake and a delicate three-tonged fork. He scoops up some of the cake, the cream and jam, and eats. Chewing he keeps staring at you, as you fidget awkwardly. It’s good, but all the food here’s good.

“Did you like it?” you try to smile at him, but it looks more like a grimace.

“I did. Javier did really well with these desserts,” Tim says, before waving over one of the staff to clean up the mess the two of you are ignoring. You look surprised when he offers an arm to guide you away, and he wonders if you’ll accept it. He can’t imagine a world where you would, but today seems to be full of surprises. In the end, you do, but it takes you a good five seconds of awkward staring before you take it.

He takes you over to one of the tables, careful to make sure you don’t slip and fall face-first into the spreading champagne puddle.

“Oh. Is he the chef?”

“He’s the pâtissier.”

You give him a blank stare. Right, you probably don't speak French.

“The pastry chef,” Tim clarifies, as he helps you find your chair. You slump down with zero grace, and for a second Tim thinks you’ll fall right off. You manage not to with a desperate grasp at the table. Good for you.

“Oh, cool. That’s super cool. I think I love this Javier guy, honestly.”

Tim snorts, taking his own seat, “He has that effect on people.”

You’re not looking at him, instead grimacing at the mess you made that two of the staff are cleaning up. Tim’s sort of surprised. It wasn’t that you had been particularly mean to the employees before, but you rarely acknowledged them. You had barely acknowledged anyone, completely unaware of your effect on the greater world. You didn’t care. To be fair, it didn’t seem like you cared about anything but your family’s gravestones and memorials.

Still, there was definitely something different about you, today. And he couldn’t blame it all on the alcohol. Today, you looked a little green about the whole accident. Like you actually gave a shit. Maybe you’d had a change of heart. He hoped you had, for Dick’s sake. You looked more alive, even if it was a confused, embarrassed, uncomfortable sort of alive. It was still an improvement. Usually, your expression was dead, a blank stare. It reminded him of Jason’s as he’d been lowered into the ground.

The two of you wouldn’t like that comparison. And it’s hypocritical too, Tim knows he sometimes resembles a zombie after one of his little sessions.

He can’t help himself. He’s curious, so damn curious. What had prompted this miraculous shift? And plus, you could still be planning something, even if it was seeming more and more like you’d stumbled in here drunk and confused, not able to remember you hated them all. Maybe you had a concussion or something. A head wound sounded like a good explanation for all this.

“Why’d you show up here today?” he finally asks, caving quickly to his need to understand.

You give him a weird look like he’s the one being strange.

“It’s my birthday.”

Tim tilts his head. “That it is.”

“Was that- that the wrong answer?”

“I don’t know, was it?” Tim knows he should stop playing with you. You’re making it far too easy, though. And he's bored, damn it.

“I don’t know either. That’s… that’s why I’m asking you.”

Before he can react to the strangeness of that comment some (awfully rudely, might he add) intrude on your conversation. One of the board members of W.E., someone he had to pay the proper respect to. When his hand slaps down on Tim’s shoulder, he has to suppress a withering sigh. There were less fun parts to his job, and this was one of them

“Drake! It’s so good to see you,” the old man greets, and it takes even Tim a second to remember his name.

“Lancaster! You as well,” Tim replies, noticing your barely there flinch.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you tonight. My project’s funds are running a little low, and everyone knows you’re the one to go to for an easier time. Bruce is a great leader but…” the man chuckles, and Tim grins at him. It’s fake, of course. When in Rome, they say.

“A bit strict, yes. I have struggled with his attitude before, too.” Understatement of the century.

Tim glances at your quiet form, eyes set on the tablecloth in front of you. Even still it’s obvious you’re listening to their conversation, head cocked just slightly to the right. The board member doesn’t even seem to notice you. Tim’s curious if he recognises you.

You’d been out of the public eye for so long he wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. That’s the way you’d wanted it to be, after all.

“But let’s talk about this later, I’m entertaining a very tipsy birthday girl at the moment,” Tim says, hoping you don’t mind him using you as an excuse.

“Oh wow!” Lancaster cries, at your mere presence. Subtlety is not this man’s strength, “I didn’t see you there. Wow, jeez. Didn’t think you’d be here today. What made you change your mind?”

You give him a long, assessing look. Whatever you find makes you pull an expression like you sucked on a sour lemon.

“My assistant forced me to,” you answer honestly. Seems you’ve realised that ‘it’s your birthday’ isn’t an adequate reason. Not that you’ve never failed to reject any and all pressure to attend these events before. Like Tim had said, kicking and screaming.

“Ha! I know the feeling. Well, I’ll leave you two kids to it. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” the old man chortles, gives you a wink, and leaves. Your gaze follows him into the crowd, and stays there, even when he disappears behind it.

It’s quiet for a moment. Tim waits for you to speak first.

“Who was that man?” you finally ask.

“Charles Lancaster, one of the newest board members of Wayne Enterprises,” Tim says, surprised you’re curious. You’d never been interested in W.E. or anything involving the family. Surprised, surprised, surprised. He should just accept any odd behaviour from you at this point, start expecting it.

You slump in your chair, pressing your forehead against the table. Then, you let out a long, unhappy, groan. Tim gets it, he really does. He does not get what you do next.

Your hands slap against your cheeks, and Tim jerks in his seat. Okay, maybe Bruce was right, you probably do need help. He couldn’t imagine the big guy sending you to Arkham, though. It was obvious you were only a threat to yourself. You take a deep breath, completely ignore his confused stare and get to your feet.

And you immediately fall sideways.

Tim’s arm shoots out, grabbing yours before you crash into the shining marble floors. You look down at him, mirroring his shocked expression. You look down further down, and Tim follows your gaze.

Your stilettoed heel looks the same as it always does. Still, you stare at it like it’s a shark biting at your toes. Tim thinks this is one of the first real emotions you’ve shown in months, and it’s desperate fear of your shoes.

“I told her I can’t wear heels,” you say, more to yourself than him.

“What? Yes, you can. You wear heels to all these events,” he replies anyway.

“What- Well, I meant… heels this tall. They’re really tall.”

He just blinks at you, at the inanity of your statement. They were really tall, but Tim had seen you wear taller. Why were you lying about something like this? Had you drunk too much and were too embarrassed to mention it? Or maybe you’d hurt yourself?

He looks down at your ankle again. No, the flesh seems unharmed. And you hadn’t been walking with a limp earlier, you were just stumbling around now. Must really just be too much champagne. You’d already dropped a glass earlier and had been obviously embarrassed by it. Even if Jeanine had swept in just like she was supposed to, fixing the situation. You’d apologised profusely.

He’d never heard you apologise before. It’s… well, it’s strange. That’s the only way he can describe this encounter.

“You can let go of me now. Please?”

Tim lets you go, and you rub your arm. Shit, he grabbed you too hard. He knew you were on the delicate side, wasting away both mentally and physically. You didn’t take care of yourself and rarely even left your apartment. Even now you looked oddly sickly.

“I’m going to uh- I have to go pee,” you say, and immediately wince at your words.

Tim, without thinking, replies, “Go piss girl.”

You make a shocked choke of laughter, nod at him, and then run off as fast as you can while grasping every piece of furniture in your reach. You look genuinely ridiculous. Well, it’s not the first time a Wayne gala has turned into a clown show. Compared to Dick’s younger years, this was completely unnoticeable.

Bruce still loved to complain about the chandelier he’d broken in an impromptu trapeze show. It’d been diamond, and over a hundred years old. The ones above him now were just as expensive, but not vintage. Jason thought it was hilariously funny, and was always trying to get Dick to do it again. Luckily, Dick had matured, if only a little bit.

Speaking of which, this is a perfect opportunity to mess with Dick. He pulls out his phone and the secure channel they use to communicate. Dick was in Bludhaven right now, probably on patrol. Doing something fun. Sure, tonight had gotten more interesting, but you’d just run off and with you his only entertainment. Tim was bitterly envious of Dick’s fun, and because of that, he had to make Dick just a little more miserable. Just to make things even, of course.

‘Smartest_Robin’: guess who just showed up to her own birthday party?

‘Underwear_guy’: you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. why?

‘Smartest_Robin’: hell if I know. she’s drunk as hell lmao

‘Underwear_guy’: please don’t let her do anything stupid.

‘Smartest_Robin’: yeah, yeah. i’m the idiot who has to deal with the fallout anyway

‘Underwear_guy’: how’s it feel being the ‘favourite son’?

Tim snorts. The media often called him that, purely because it was well known he was the one inheriting W.E. It was hot gossip that it was Tim and not Damian, the proudly stated ‘blood son’. They didn’t know Damian was inheriting an even greater responsibility. And it wasn’t like he particularly wanted it, he just knew he was best for the job and it helped the time pass in between missions. It was fun sometimes, too. He enjoyed giving Luthor Corp a good thrashing every now and then.

‘Smartest_Robin’: same as always. im bored, anything interesting going on over there?

‘Underwear_guy’: bludhaven’s my city, dickhead. go do taxes or something

Tim sighs, and puts the phone back down. He had to try, at least. When it becomes obvious you are absolutely not returning from the bathrooms anytime soon, he gets up, adjusts his cuffs, and walks back off into the fray.

He greets and shakes hands, he takes photos and makes deals. It’s all a blur, really. He does it with half his attention, the other focused entirely on you. Amidst all this pomp and splendour an intriguing new mystery has been born. A puzzle to hold his attention, just for long enough till he gets to the next one. And your sudden shift in personality is more than enough. And if he focused on that, he could get through all this politics.

He’s talking up a chairman of a rival company when the lights go out. When the windows shatter inwards, his heart starts to race. And when familiar masked thugs break in through the wide open doors, guns up and ready, he’s already prepared for the fight. People start screaming, scrambling, and even more gunmen follow through the side exits. While guards raise their own firearms, everybody knows they’re completely outnumbered.

The Joker’s here, and he’s brought his army. Well, shit, all this excitement, and Tim left his suit upstairs. Guess he’ll have to improvise.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

The Maze Runner (2014)

Maze Runner: The Death Cure (2018)

dir. Wes Ball

Omg I just realized this post reached a thousand notes?? Whhaaatt???

Hey! Doing good I hope?

I’ll make this brief since I don’t want to take up too much time, but I love Scarlet Witch and Percy Jackson so… Why not put them together? What if the reader is a child of Hecate with magic similar to Scarlet Witch’s? Powerful and dangerous, yet Percy is the only demigod who doesn’t fear her. If anything, he’s actually curious.

Reader being a Child of Hecate

YEAAHH MY FIRST PJ REQUEST WOOOO‼️‼️ I did a little research on Hecate and bro this idea is literally so COOL📢 Also I’m gonna make it so that you know, Hecate is fighting alongside Kronos just to make things more dramatic. Also this might be long but let me know if you want more calmer headcanons of child of Hecate since I feel like i always stray from the request💔💔💔

Meeting reader was definitely a nightmare

Percy, Annabeth, and Grover had stumbled upon you one night on one of their quests and to say you were a strong demigod was an understatement

You were powerful, your magic (which Percy didn’t know was possible for a demigod to have) was unlike anything they’ve ever seen before

Believing they were your enemy, you did not hold back when attacking them

“I told you I don’t want to join your STUPID ARMY!”

At the raise of your hand a powerful blast sent the group flying back

Before they could even recover or say anything, you begin to speak in a low voice, moving your hand as fog came out of nowhere

From this fog, misty figures emerged and attacked them, the reader controlling the mist with every flick of their wrist

Yeah after that fight, Annabeth and Grover were not so fond of your presence alongside them

Her not trusting you as easily as Percy and Grover not liking how you were able to make these dangerous figures appear out of nowhere put them on edge around you

Percy on the other hand only had questions and questions to ask

“How did you make those guys appear?” “Do you like, control fog?” “If you’re part human, whose your godly parent then?”

Finding out that Hecate was your mother only made the group tense since the goddess was currently on their enemies side in the growing war

At camp, being a child of Hecate, most, if not all, of the campers avoid you

Claiming that you would use your magic against them, the campers choose to steer clear from you

Not Percy though

He’s like a little leech on your back, a lost puppy following a random stranger

He does his best to make you feel somewhat at home since he understands what it’s like being an outcast because of your differences

He learns more about you as you begin opening up to him the longer he’s around, like how your life was before finding out you were a half blood, some of your powers that you demonstrated as you lifted him off the ground

You weren’t a bad person everyone believed you to be

At one point though, Percy catches you sneaking out of the Big House with a paper in your hands when he was sneaking out to use the bathroom himself

Except you were caught by Chiron

He quickly jogs over to see what was happening only to be in shock at what you did

“What are you doing here Y/N? And what do you have in your hand?”

You slowly begin moving your hands in the same familiar way you once did all that time ago in your first meeting

“What do you mean? I don’t have anything. I’m not even here in front of you. In fact, you were actually heading back in after watching the stars, never coming across anyone on your way out.”

Chiron’s eyes glazed over as you snuck around the centar, running from the Big house and into the dark woods. The centar then looked around in confusion before looking up to the sky and chuckling

“Lovely constellations as always.” Percy watched as Chiron shut the door, acting as if nothing ever happened

Rushing after you, carefully avoiding any harpies, Percy followed the sound of quiet whisperings, seeing you in a clearing, hunched over with small candles surrounding your figure

It took everything in him to not yell when he saw the dead crawling from the ground and begin whispering in your ears, ghosts floating around you while you kept your eyes closed.

The stick Percy stepped on though immediately drew your attention as all the ghosts vanished as quickly as they came

“Whose there?”

Slowly the boy walks out, eyes wide as he meets your own shocked ones

“I thought you said you were a child of Hecate, not Hades.”

It took everything in you to not smack your face at his dumb words

You would explain everything to him, why you grabbed the paper, how you were able to manipulate the Mist with Chiron, and how since your mother was also the goddess of necromancy, you were able to speak to the dead about what the future held in store, hence why you needed the paper with information

Now at this point he thinks you’re the coolest demigod he’s ever met

Being able to manipulate the mist on someone like Chiron AND be able to basically see into the future

You’re like Percy’s new favorite subject to learn more about

He would keep what happened that night a secret but Percy would totally introduce you to Nico and expose you to the younger boy

And you guys would actually get along really well surprising (Percy’s a proud mother watching from afar)

Being able to talk to the dead, you both talk a lot as you realize you have many things in common

In battle, Percy stays far away from you since he wouldn’t want to get caught in your mist and be jumped by your warriors

And despite Annabeth’s persistent nagging on staying away from someone as dangerous as you, Percy can’t help but stare in awe whenever you use your magic, whether it be conjuring up a mist form or illusions for your enemies

Percy is one of the only people you can rely on since homeboy isn’t here to judge anyone

He finds all your powers really cool and if people are afraid of what you could do, then he makes sure to shoot down any concerns and accusations

OH ALSO!! You help him a lot when it comes to manipulating the mist when it comes to mortals since you’ve noticed how he has a lot of trouble with it

Overall, Percy is your 4lifer and always encourages you in everything you do

He’s so supportive I can’t💔

He can’t be afraid of what you powers you possess, not after getting to know who you really are

Hi! It's me again, I was wondering if I could ask a Derek hale x sister! Reader where since the hale fire the reader stop talking to anyone but only her siblings (like laura, Derek and cora) and one day the pack come in to derek's loft and saw reader whispering to Derek a d they ate shocked because even at school she never speak but as soon as she saw them she stop speaking/whispering to him. So the pack always try to make her speak by speaking to her or asking her things but reader either sigh or growl but never speak to them even though they're her pack because she's afraid that they'll die once she will start being friendly with tem, sos some people of the pack start getting frustrated and stiles or someone else make a comment about her being mut or thinking that she was mute and Derek her big brother stand up for her. Please and sorry it's so so long.

Derek defending Reader b/c of their Quietness

UGH YES LOVE THIS🦅🦅🦅 it’s not long bro, don’t even worry about it, I love writing for teen wolf teehee

Idk if I did you justice but I hope you enjoy this!!

Derek is SUPER protective of you, like it’s not even funny😭

Since you’re with your older brother most of the time, the pack has gotten used to your presence and silence, yet were always so curious to know more about you!

But whenever they’ve come across you, whether it be at school, walking down a street, or even when fighting, you never say a peep to any of them

They obviously know that you somewhat care for them with all the times you’ve saved their asses from trouble, but you’re just so quiet that it’s hard to form a connection with you

I don’t think they’ve actually heard your voice besides from the occasion sigh or chuckle you would let out whenever someone said something funny

At one point they all just assumed you were mute until they one day unexpectedly dropped by Derek’s studio when they hear faint talking from outside his door

Of course they hear Derek’s deep voice, but they also hear a new voice as well

This once is much softer, yet filled with life as they heard the joyful laughing of this unknown person

Stiles being Stiles, homeboy just barges in to see who this new person only to see the surprised faces of you and your brother

“You can talk?!” Is definitely the first thing this dude would say

Your mouth is glued shut at the question and before the group can begin interrogating you, Derek steps in to separate you all

Since then, the group (mostly stiles tho) would try and make you talk

Whether it be about the most random things, they are always in some way waiting for your response

I think Allison would be the one in the pack to understand your hesitance of forming a connection with them because of your terrible pst

She understands your boundaries and only converses with you when it’s only the two of you

Allison doesn’t let her surprise how on her face you you laugh at a joke she offhandedly said to make you feel comfortable

She’s the only one you would actually talk to in private, allowing her to take a place in your heart with how many times she’s saved you, and made you laugh

Scott doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable by any means, but sometimes the silence between you both makes him feel awkward

He definitely bugs Derek about it though. Because of how much he asks about it, Derek does fold at one point and reveals why you never speak around them

Scott sees you in a different light at the knowledge of you scared of forming relationships with them, but he doesn’t treat you any differently

He’s learned to embrace the silence and calmness you bring, throwing smiles towards you every now and then when you guys make eye contact

Lydia and Stiles are more of the pushy types, always bothering you about why you don’t talk

Lydia learns to just let I go though after the first few times she tries talking to you

She doesn’t wanna waste her breath when you won’t even respond to a yes or no question😭 you usually communicate with her with your eyes or by nodding your head

Stiles on the other hand won’t let go of it

He’s always asking you questions, waiting for a response before babbling about something else

There are times that he asks sensitive questions which he knows is wrong and insensitive of him but he just wants to hear you speak again

I think we all know how stiles is, pushing someone’s else’s limits until they actually do so emerging to him to him shut up💀

I think Scott might reveal a little about you to Stiles because of how annoying he’s gotten about the subject

Stiles actually gets fed up one random day tho after the group almost gets killed because of your reluctance to communicate with them, making an off handed, and lowkey insulting, comment towards you

“What, are you finally gonna speak at our funerals when one of us dies? There won’t really be a point in doing so though.”

Might not seem like much, but for you, your heart breaks at that

He will admit it’s not his proudest moment

The second the comment leaves his mouth tho, Derek is slamming the younger boy against a way and giving him the death stare

Everyone gasps at the sound of Stiles hitting the wall

Scott tries to make Derek let go, but Stiles was talking shit to his younger sibling and he’s not gonna take that

You quickly walk over though, resting a hand on his arm

Everyone is supposed, even Derek, when you speak

“It’s ok Derek, let him go.”

After a moment of hesitation, Derek lets Stiles go, not before threatening to rip his head off if her ever speaks to you like that

Once he’s backed off, you look to Stiles, eyes filled with hurt and anger

“Are you happy now Stiles?”

And boom, you angrily walk away leaving everyone tense, Allison chasing after you

I think this’ll have a more emotional affect on you because this dude basically forced you to kinda relive a trauma you’ve grown to have

He destroyed the coping mechanism you had, which was keeping to yourself in silence

But maybe this was the push you needed. Maybe you needed someone to break you out of this shell you were in.

It was a difficult and scary process for you, but with the support of Derek and Allison, you slowly began speaking more

Starting with small comments, everyone gave you time and space to go at your own pace when talking with you

I think you would have a stutter because of your limited amount of contact you’ve had with other people throughout the years

So the pack patiently as you get out the words and sentences you stumble on occasionally

They don’t make fun of it, but instead encourage you to continue, especially if you get frustrated when you can’t get out a specific word

They are also there to remind you that they’re always going to be there for you, and that they won’t ever leave you💔

You appreciate so much because that’s been your number one fear ever since the fire that happened all those years ago

While at first things were still awkward with you and Stiles, he apologized the second you guys were alone

He’s super sincere and remorse full of the way he treated you. You accept his apology, but not without giving him the classic Hale threat if he ever does it again🤭

Derek is still super protective of you and always reminds you to not push yourself

You honestly love and appreciate him for that, and often remind him how much you appreciate him

Cora, if she’s visiting, would be surprised to hear you talking freely now. While she gives Stiles the stink eye at hearing how it all happened, she’s lowkey happy that you’ve finally broken from your chains of doubt

The only one: Yandere Damian Wayne x reader

Damian Wayne x reader or Damian Wayne/reader

Yandere!Damian Wayne x reader or Yandere Damian Wayne x Reader

Word count: 11 368 words

TW: GN reader, Yandere, kidnapping, adult Damian Wayne (inspired and mostly based off of Damian in Batman beyond & Injustice 2: Gods among us), toxic family relations, obsession. Other than that, there's no s*x or anything of the like.

This was requested by @simligul

“How lovely…” Damian sneered.

You were all standing together in the Titan tower lobby, ready to go out to eat dinner, and Jaime had just explained to the green-eyed Robin how he had booked a table at a steakhouse, which didn’t serve any vegetarian dishes other than salads.

“I mean, you could just get a salad and instead focus on hanging out with us”, Jaime attempted to argue, it was clear that he didn’t want Damian to agree though. Damian was already annoyed and blew his team members off with a rough, “It doesn’t matter, I’ll just stay back.” You felt bad for him. It was unlike the others to be so non-accommodating, but they seemingly always had it out for the team’s leader, and you had yet to be let in on the reason why. Sure, he could be rude! But was that really rationale enough to treat him like the plague? 

You were new to the team, Black Canary’s long-time protégé. 

Dinah had been apprehensive when it came to letting you be on the Teen Titans. She had always acted like a protective mother-hen, and as your mother’s best friend, she felt obligated to keep you safe, despite your work as a vigilante. Both your mother and Dinah had been worried about you becoming a vigilante sidekick all those years ago, but with your growing meta-abilities, giving you the ability to control and create ice, it had seemed like the best way to help your then-ten-year-old self. You had been shipped far away from your mother and over to Dinah. The blonde hero had pretty much taken care of you ever since. You would never admit it, but Dinah was the first person you thought of when asked about your mother, not the woman who gave birth to you and whom you only ever saw for the holidays. It was a sad reality, but you realised why your mother, who knew nothing of how to handle superpowers, couldn’t deal with a child running around and freezing all her furniture to the ground, all her food into icicles and risking one day freezing a person to death. Oliver had handled the legality of it all, ultimately, money does speed up the process of a partial adoption, just a smidge. Eight years later, though, you were certainly a force to be reckoned with.

Still, being next to a seasoned superhero and being in a team led by a boy no more than a year older than you were two very different things. Your mother had argued this point up and down, pushing it through your ears and hoping it’d stick in your mind. You didn’t care though, you wanted to be part of the team. 

You had always seen how all the other sidekicks had such close bonds and yet the only other sidekick... Well, ex-sidekick… You ever managed to befriend was Roy Harper. He often came by Dinah’s place, which was your home too, when his mentor wasn’t there. However, Roy was more than ten years older than you, he acted like your older brother, not your friend. On top of that, he had a kid and was technically his own hero now. You couldn’t relate to him. Your classmates in high school were of no solace either. None of them knew anything of your secret double life. On top of that, it was hard to keep any friends among them, since you were constantly absent, (off on a mission with Dinah). Academically you did great, Dinah taught you herself whenever you were away, but socially? You were failing miserably. As an eighteen-year-old, your youngest friend isn’t supposed to be a decade older and fathering a kid. 

You had become desperate to find company amongst the other sidekicks. You had practically begged Oliver one evening to help you convince Dinah to let you join the Teen Titans, (which didn’t actually contain a lot of teenagers anymore, but they were still within a relatively close age range to you). 

The blonde-bearded hero had relented after a while, (having known you since you were a kid, he had never been very good at denying you anything). However, he only did so on the condition that you’d deal with some of the more mindless paperwork related to Queen industries. He had been sure that your dedication to being part of a new team wasn’t as big as your disdain for the asinine task of sorting, filling in and shipping off hundreds of reports. Yet, you had, and he had been obligated to hold up his end of the deal. Oliver spent hours buttering up Dinah to finally make her relent, but she was still on high alert and had even offered to buy you anything you’d want if you just stayed with her. However, you were determined to form new bonds with fellow young vigilantes, it was time to break out of your shell after all these years.

When you entered the large T-shaped tower along with your mentor, you felt a strange mix of total horror and unbridled excitement bubble in your lower abdomen, like the first time you fought alongside Black Canary. On the outside, however, you appeared unimpressed, perhaps even disgruntled. The other Titans had assumed that you were being forced to join, a comically ironic departure from the truth. Still, as you packed out your stuff in your new room, a secret smile betrayed your true feelings about the situation.

You met the team as it currently stood, it had gone through many iterations, but this was your team, the one that you would fight alongside.

You first met Jaime Reyes, he was a few years older than you but was ultimately a sweetheart. You had caught both him and another young man, Garfield Logan, playing a video game which you recognised from Roy’s apartment. Garfield was friendly as well, perhaps a little too friendly… He had jumped to hug you upon first meeting you, completely forgetting about his game with Jaime and crossing any personal space you might’ve wished to uphold. You let him though, it was nice feeling welcomed. 

As Dinah walked you further through the tower, she introduced you to Rachel, who had simply given you a court nod, before returning to one of her leather-bound spell-books. 

Koriand’r, Victor Stone and Dick Grayson had been next up on your list of members to greet, all being found together conversing. Technically, Dick wasn’t part of the team, however, since Kori was and she spent most of her time at the Titans tower, so did Dick, at every chance he got. He was like a puppy who couldn’t stray too far away from her side, lest he be lost forever. They all gave you warm smiles and firm pats on the back, they were all in the middle of their twenties, far older than any of the others, but still, they remained on the team. Koriand’r mostly being there as a mentor and a much-needed adult presence, whereas Vic simply couldn’t remove himself from the team, which had picked him up from his lowest points more times than he could count. 

It gave you a sense of security that actual adults were part of the team, not just a handful of seventeen to nineteen-year-olds. It felt like a much-welcomed safety net, just like Dinah had always been for you. 

The last on the list had been the team’s official leader, Damian Wayne. He had been in the position since he turned thirteen and had kept it well for over six years, it gave prestige to his name and it made you look forward to meeting him. However, as Dinah let you into Damian’s office, (a small room at the end of the hallway containing the bedrooms), you quickly realised that he would be the most unpleasant aspect of working with the Titans. He had simply given you an annoyed glance before referring to your teacher, “I suppose you want me to take your little sidekick under the team’s wings?” 

Dinah had scoffed, uncaring whether Damian heard it or not, “Me? No, I’d prefer to keep my sidekick by my side, but Olli thinks it’d be good for them to interact more with people their own age”. Damian had raised one thick dark eyebrow. He looked like he wanted to let out a sarcastic insult, but decided against it. Dinah was, after all, a member of the Justice League, Bruce would have his tongue if he offended the blonde hero. “Fine, but I’ll send them back to you if they don’t have the skills required for our team”. Dinah had agreed to his conditions with a frown, she knew that they’d keep you, no matter how much she was going to miss having you by her side, she had to let you go and let you go on your own adventures. 

Damian hadn’t ended up being very pleasant to you for most of your stay at the Teen Titans. He wasn’t a bully, but he never let his opinions pass through a filter. As a confidante, he would be horrible. Still, you respected his fighting and leadership abilities, and just because he wasn’t easy to get along with, didn’t mean that he was a bad person. The other young titans didn’t seem to grasp this concept, however.

“If you’re going to be so dramatic about a restaurant choice, then it’s probably better anyways”, Jaime spat at Damian. His aggression towards your leader shocked you, never had Jaime even come close to raising his voice at you, much less sounding so spiteful.

“Whatever” Damian shrugged, turning around and starting to walk out, gently whispering under his breath, “كل قهرا (Kol Khara)...” No one except you heard it, and his tone of voice made a pit form in your lower abdomen, tucking on you to do something, anything, to stand up for the young man. Right before Damian left the room, you exclaimed “I’ll stay back too”. Garfield tried to argue, “No, y/n! Come on! I’m sure Damian will be fine on his own!” His coercion didn’t work on you, and you stood your ground, shaking your head firmly. “No one should be left alone in the tower. Besides, I’m not too into steakhouses, anyways.” Garfield seemed deflated at the thought of you not joining them, looking pleadingly at the others for backup. 

Victor or Jaime would’ve usually helped Garfield convince you. However, when your eyes briefly met Jaime’s, your scowl made your disappointment in him clear, and he backed down with an apologetic look. Victor tried to push out some statement that might change your mind. However, by the time he had found the words, you were already waving them off and walking over to Damian’s side.

As the rest of the Titans slowly filtered out of the tower, you turned to Damian. The shy smile that you had previously worn around the others slowly melted into a deadpan. You knew Damian would find your smile mocking, so you didn’t force yourself to hold up any pretences. “Pizza?” You asked as you dug your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. The young man’s green eyes studied you briefly, searching for any hidden meanings behind your act of kindness. “Why did you do that? I can be on my own, no problem. You don’t have to babysit me.” He spoke through his teeth, making him resemble a robot as his lips barely moved. “I don’t like steak-”, you shrugged nonchalantly, “-Did you want pizza or not?”

Giving you a suspicious look, Damian shook his head, “Sure. I’ll pay”.

You knew that Damian had a hard time letting others pay for him, he despised the feeling of being indebted. That was the most profound thing you knew about him, which you honestly found concerning, you practically knew nothing of your team captain. Calling up the nearest pizza place, you had them deliver the pizza to a corner close to the tower. Neither Damian nor you could risk anyone knowing your secret identities, and you didn’t feel like getting into your costumes just for a pizza delivery. 

Slowly trudging down to the agreed-upon corner, you forgot to keep an eye on the traffic as you passed the road to the corner. Suddenly, you felt a harsh yank on your arm and a rush of air beside you. As per instinct, you fired a fist towards the direction of your assailant, only to have your hand caught by Damian. He had been the one to pull you back, and as you gave him a confused look, he flicked his index finger into your forehead. “Ow! What’s wrong with you?!” You exclaimed, massaging the affected area with the fingers of your left hand. Damian seemed agitated as his grip on your arm tightened, “What’s wrong with me?! What’s wrong with you?! You almost got run over by a car, you idiot!”

You slowly blinked at him, letting out a quiet, “Oh…Thanks”.

Damian scoffed, tugging you across the road, still holding your arm in an iron grip, “Don’t worry about it”.

Damian was still holding your forearm tight when the pizza delivery guy arrived. The teenager in the blue pizza-place uniform gave the two of you a wary glance. It looked as if Damian was holding you against your will as you both held agitated facial expressions and the green-eyed man simply pushed the money you owed into the delivery guy’s hands, taking the pizzas and pulling you away. In reality, Damian had claimed that he didn’t trust that you wouldn’t get yourself into danger again if he let go of you. You supposed that it was a kind gesture, but your arm was starting to ache and Damian’s sour countenance made it look like you had just killed his new puppy. 

When you and Damian re-entered the Titans Tower, he finally let go of your arm, setting the two steaming pizzas on the kitchen counter, before he started to rummage through multiple cupboards, looking for a pizza slicer. You discreetly rubbed the area that your team leader had squeezed so firmly. You didn’t want to complain to him, afraid he might make fun of your weakness. Still, he seemed aware, despite having his back turned to you. “Did my grip hurt you?” His voice was precise yet a certain calmness rounded his otherwise harsh tone. “Don’t worry about it”, you tried to reassure him, but he refused to let the topic go. “I didn’t ask you whether I should worry or not, I asked if your arm hurts?” 

You stared at the dark tufts of hair at the back of the man’s head, a sense of bitter annoyance filling your throat. Why did he need to know if it hurt or not when you had already told him that it wasn’t a big deal? “A little, but it’s nothing compared to any of the injuries I get on the daily from sparring with Kori”, you giggled softly at the thought of how Koriand’r often left anything from tiny burn marks to black and blue bruises of varying yet considerable sizes. You had often wanted to spar with someone more on your level, like Garfield or Jaime, but you and Koriand’r were natural sparring partners. Her ability to shoot rays of fire perfectly contrasted your snow-themed meta-abilities. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you”, Damian muttered as he finally found the pizza cutter, turning around and meeting your eyes. For a second you were rendered gelid, his eyes were the deepest shade of forest green you had ever seen, with specks of a minty blue and rich gold spread throughout. You almost breathed out a woah, but managed to catch it mid-air by taking a deep breath. You had never realised that eyes could be so stunning, they almost seemed artificial. Forcing your gaze away from Damian, who himself had stood still, staring into your eyes, you turned to the food. Walking to the counter and unpacking the pizzas, you tried your best to ignore how Damian’s searing gaze was burning holes into your backside. It almost felt like he had aimed a laser at you while you were trying to avoid embarrassing yourself in front of him. “Can I have the pizza cutter?” You requested airily, it felt as if your team leader’s wonderfully green eyes were sucking out the oxygen from your lungs with their intensity. Making his way to your side, Damian pushed you away from the pizzas, “I’ll do it. You’ll just end up cutting yourself”. Finally, his fierce gaze dragged off you and onto the food in front of him. A chill went down your back and you realised that you had accidentally cooled down the entire room with your powers. You could’ve facepalmed at yourself, thinking, ‘that’s probably why he looked at me like that. I was literally turning the entire kitchen into a freezer!’ 

Calming yourself down and letting up on the use of your powers, the room slowly heated up once again. Damian didn’t comment on the sudden temperature changes, instead platting three slices of both your pizzas and taking them to the dinner table. Standing still for a while, seemingly pondering something, Damian finally put down both of your plates next to each other. “Come over here”, he commanded softly, dragging a hand through his thick hair, the muscles under his golden skin flexing in turn. With hesitant steps, you made it to the chair where your pizza had been put in front. Before you could drag out your chair, Damian did it for you, gesturing for you to sit down. Giving him a suspicious glance, you acquiesced. It wasn’t like Damian to be such a gentleman, or at least you didn’t think it was. Truth be told, you didn’t actually know much about how he usually acted. Damian always kept to himself or hung out with Dick when he was there, he hadn’t given you much of a chance to get to know him on any more than a surface level. When your thighs hit the pillow of the seat, Damian gently pushed the chair in place, before taking his place beside you. You ate in silence for a while, until Damian suddenly spoke up, “Thank you, by the way”. You were confused, why was he thanking you? Because you stayed silent? That wasn’t much to thank you for, your lack of social experience usually kept you relatively quiet. Deciding to be bold and ask him, you almost faltered as you turned to see Damian staring at you again. “What are you thanking me for?” 

Raising a single mocking eyebrow, Damian tried not to sound harsh as he explained, “For staying behind to keep me company. I know that you didn’t just do it because you dislike steakhouses or whatever. It was nice of you, thank you.” His use of short and concise sentences almost made every word he spoke sound like an important disclosure, like something you’d expect to come out of the mouth of a scientist explaining the danger of a chemical substance.

“Oh, no worries. They were being arseholes anyways, they usually aren’t that way, I don’t know what happened with them today-”, Damian interrupted you with a loud scoff. “Perhaps they’re nice to you, but to me? They’re always like that, I’m not even surprised anymore”, his tone seemed like a mix of scorn and lament. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know”, you had no idea what else to say, what could anyone say in that situation? It was a lie, obviously, you were quite aware that your other teammates didn’t treat your leader particularly well. What you didn’t know, however, was that it actually affected Damian. He had always seemed like this indestructible wall, no emotions, all logic. You had never resented him for that, you had honestly respected it, but what you had never done was consider him human like the rest of you… well, except Koriand’r.

“Don’t apologise for others. You’re being kind to me… As the only one”, the last part barely came out as a whisper, it was clear he didn’t want you to hear it, but had to let it out, or else he’d burst. 

Taking the last bite of your third pizza slice, you took the plate to the sink. You had no idea how to deal with Damian at that moment, you had practically grown up with Dinah, a licensed therapist, and yet you had no idea how to tackle the Wayne boy’s display of emotions. It was such a rare occasion, you knew, and with his hardened composure, it was obvious that he hated being vulnerable. You wagered that he’d probably have preferred to have this minor breakdown with anyone else except the newest member of his team. However, since you were the only one there, you supposed you’d have to do. Roy did always tell you that you were a great person to rant to, lending your ears to anyone willing to speak their woes.

Going over to Damian, you offered him your hand. He looked almost offended at the gesture, with his eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched all the way up. Still, he gently placed his rough palm in yours, forgetting his last pizza slice. Hoisting him up, you lead him to your room in complete silence, except for the thumps of your feet hitting the floor. Closing the door behind you, you led him to your bed, and plopped on top of your duvet, dragging him down with you. “Speak”, you gently suggested, hand still intertwined with his. “What?” Damian questioned, looking at you like you were mad. “Talk about how you feel about the others, please. It usually helps to get it out. I promise, whatever you say in this room, stays in this room”, you requested with a sweet smile, urging him to open up, if only a bit.

“No.” Damian refused immediately, he wasn’t the type to share his worries and woes, so why was it any of your concern that he felt unfairly treated by his teammates? That he already preferred you, the newest member, over the others, because the others always assumed the worst about him and simply treated him like a robot sent to make their lives difficult, despite him just trying to keep them all safe?!

“I can see why that’d make you feel alienated by them”, you muttered peacefully, your thumb rubbing calming circles into the skin of his hand, just like you had always done with Roy.

“Shit-”, Damian breathed out, he had said all of that out loud. ‘Way to go Damian!’ His mind screamed at him. He felt exposed and vulnerable like he had just ripped his skin off and presented you with all of his bleeding organs. It was disgusting and he felt the need to backtrack. Yet, the rhythm of your finger tracing lazy shapes on top of his skin made him enjoy the moment just a bit too much to let it go.

“Why are you doing this?” Damian asked with no small amount of scepticism.

“Everyone deserves someone to listen to them, that’s what Dinah always says. Besides, my best friend is literally Roy Harper”, you answered casually. Your last sentence made Damian laugh, despite himself. It was no thunderously bellowing laughter, as you knew his brother had from the few times you and Jason Todd had visited Roy at the same time, but rather a contained yet harmonious chuckle. Still, your argument was valid, Roy’s mental instability and former partiality towards drugs were infamous within vigilante circles.

Damian considered you for a moment, before leaning in closer as if what he told you was a rumour to be whispered. Starting off slowly and carefully, Damian admitted feeling as if had no one at the Titans to speak with, as if they all compared him to his older brothers and were disappointed. He felt as if he was oftentimes the only one who saw matters logically. As evidence of this claim, he cited incidents such as Terra’s traitorous nature slipping through Kori’s fingers because the woman refused to do background checks, or how just last week Jaime had almost gotten all of you killed because he refused to attack a crying henchman soliloquizing about his family, who turned out to simply be acting to divert the team’s attention from the bomb planted close by. He was frustrated by their idiocy and the way he spoke so passionately on the issue, you were able to deduce that what really frustrated him was the fear that the team would get themselves hurt. 

You let Damian vent out all of his frustrations until the sound of the front door opening harshly followed by Jaime and Garfield’s yelling filled the entire tower. Damian shut his mouth like a clamp immediately, yet he sent you a grateful smile, which revealed the deep dimples on the side of his cheeks. “Thank you for listening to me, صديقة/صديق, (Sadeek/Sadeekah)”, Damian squeezed your hand one last time before sneaking out of your room, unseen. A weight lifted off his shoulders and a curious pit formed in his stomach.

You and Damian started talking sporadically after that, it was never in front of the other teammates, but Damian seemingly always managed to catch you alone for a few minutes every few days. You’d exchange a few hushed jokes or comment on the latest mission. It almost felt as if your newfound friendship was illegal. As if the others couldn’t know that you found Damian’s company pleasant and almost refreshing compared to the hyperactivity of Garfield, Jaime’s constant laments about his previous friends, Brenda and Paco, or Kori’s disturbing lack of filter. Damian was a delightful contrast to the constant tumult that the others provided and you felt as if he already knew you better than yourself. His music recommendations were always bangers, his favourites in everything from food to movies always seemed to match up perfectly with yours, and if a particular teammate had been an irritation that day, he always commented on it, which felt nice as it confirmed your own feelings on the matter. It almost felt as if the two of you were made to be friends.  

The truth was, Damian did in fact know you pretty well. It was hard not to after having hacked into your computer and phone, looking through your google searches and favourite music, and sneaking into your room while you were on patrol, going through all of your things, as well as discreetly observing you whenever you were in the same room as him, (had he not been a trained assassin, he was sure that he would have been caught staring by at least one of your team members).

After your earnest kindness during that evening when the others had left for the steakhouse, an unfamiliar feeling had started to spread through his body. At first, he had thought he got sick, but after having gone to the doctor and been cleared for any physical ailments, he had started to panic. What was going on with him?! The image of your face never left his mind, a strange pain went through his chest every time he was far away from you and whenever either Jaime, Garfield or Victor touched you, he experienced a rage unlike any other. 

He had gone directly to Dick the moment his brother visited. The older man had chuckled at first, explaining that it was probably just a crush, but Damian disagreed vehemently. The green-eyed man had experienced crushes before, he once had one on Rachel and even some of his fellow assassin trainees as a kid, but this was entirely different. 

Dick had shrugged and waved it off as Damian’s first time falling properly in love, comparing it to how he had been with many women throughout his life because he was attracted to them, but he had only ever been in love with Barbara and Koriand’r. Damian hadn’t really understood the explanation, but he did gather that he could perhaps have with you what his brother had with the two red-heads, just… more exclusive. 

Maybe Dick would have been more careful with his explanation had he known his brother’s obsessive tendencies. In later years Grayson would defend himself with the phrase, “Who assumes that about their brother?” But at that point it would be much too late, after his talk with Dick, Damian had gained a new insight into himself. He was definitely in love with you.

Still, Damian had felt the need to do as many background checks on you as possible, hence his first visit to your room without your permission. He refused to let his feelings turn him into danger, ever the sceptic. Yet, when all came back green, he let his heart guide him for the first time in his entire nineteen years of life. It felt freeing and he became deathly afraid of losing the feeling.

Still, this overwhelming sensation came with its drawbacks. Never had Damian felt so jealous of anyone or anything, not even Tim. Most of his jealousy was aimed at his green teammate, the man going by the moniker Beast-Boy, Garfield Logan. His newest enemy, in a long line of them. The man was clearly your best friend on the team, always plastered right by your side. It was cruel how you were so open with your friendship with Garfield, but hid away your affiliation with Damian. On top of that, it was so obvious that the little green freak had a crush on you, it was almost too much for Damian to bear. Garfield didn’t deserve you, Damian did. The green-eyed Robin was simply looking for a reason to do away with the beastly man. No matter the severity.

It was a warm and sunny Saturday afternoon, you were relaxing on your bed, reading a book that you had recently lent to Victor, but never gotten around to finishing yourself. It was on these days that your ice powers were the weakest, you had barely been able to shoot a single beam of ice at Koriand’r during training earlier and had needed to resort to hand-to-hand combat within the first ten minutes. It had you exhausted and your powers totally drained. So tired were you, in fact, that you hadn’t even bothered to pack away most of your melee weapons. Knives laid on your desk and bedside table, out in the open, it was against almost every rule in the protocol. However, you were just so exhausted that you would rather deal with the consequences of getting caught leaving your weapons out than stand up and do any work for a single second more.  

A loud knock ripped you out of your reading. A shame really, you had just reached the good part. 

“Come in!” You urged with a deep sigh, and the door opened to reveal Damian. 

“Did I interrupt something?” he asked, displaying a smug smile, knowing you wouldn’t mind his light teasing. 

“Just my book reading. What’s up?” You replied as you sat up properly. You hadn’t even noticed that you’d slid so far down with your back, your neck practically leaning against your bed’s headrest.

“Just wanted to hang out with you, and thought you probably wouldn’t mind”, Damian made his way into the room, quietly closing the door behind him, making sure that none of the others saw him enter.

You hummed in confirmation as Damian lifted your legs, plopping down on your bed, before laying them over his lap, not changing your previous position.

Relaxing your body again, your eyes drifted to the page you had gotten to, continuing to read the story, but Damian had a different idea, plucking the hardcover from your hands and turning the pages towards himself. You dragged your legs back towards yourself and leaned closer to Damian, trying to grab your book back. However, once you had gotten relatively close, the green-eyed man leant back as well, a clear smirk bending his plump lips. You continued to pursue your book until Damian was on his back, book covering his face, and you leaning over him, an arm on each side. From behind the cover of the book, you heard his muffled voice, proud and taunting, “My, my, Y/n. I didn’t know you felt that way-” Your face started to burn like a fire, unaccustomed to the flirtatious tone in Damian’s voice. Using your powers, you attempted to cool your skin down before your friend saw, but it was too late, as Damian had already moved the book away from his face. “Wow, Y/n. Is it that bad? You’re getting all worked up”, his smug expression worsened, which told you that he had planned for something like this to happen. Yet, as you were examining his face up close, you were momentarily caught off guard. You had never realised how beautiful Damian actually was. You knew that Bruce was considered attractive by pretty much anyone who was into men, heck, even you could admit that he was good-looking. And from the few pictures of Talia that you had seen on the Justice League supercomputer, you could confirm that she was gorgeous. So, it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Damian was absolutely stunning, but still, it somehow surprised you how everything on him just seemed visually appealing. His eyes, which were so green that you’d think he wore contact lenses. His thick dark hair, currently spread out on the foot of your bed like a mini halo. His skin, which held such a beautiful golden colour, even if it was dimmed significantly from being inside writing up reports for the Justice League most of the time. Reaching forward slowly, you let a single finger trace along his nose, roman in shape, which gave his face character along with his sharp jaw. He was like a Greek statue. Damian’s gaze was focused on you, eyes blown wide. Yet, as you continued to trace your finger down his face, as if in a trance, his long eyelashes started to flutter, gradually closing his eyelids and enjoying the sensation of his face being caressed. He wasn’t used to physical affection and had been sure that he wouldn’t like it, even if he got it. However, when it came from you, it just seemed so gentle, so… correct? Like you were supposed to touch his face like this. Like if you didn’t, the world would go down in violent flames. But as soon as the moment began, it ended. When you realised what you were doing, your hand sprang away from his skin like a frightened spider. You almost pulled away, but Damian’s strong hand grasped your wrist, eyes still closed. “Don’t stop, please”. If your face hadn’t been warm before, it surely was now. How could he be so casual about asking for that? Was this not too much for a pair of friends? Well, you actually weren’t too sure... You hadn’t really had an actual friend since you were ten, maybe this was entirely normal friend behaviour. Who were you to say?

Letting Damian guide your hand back to his face, you gently allowed your palm to brush his right cheek. Leaning into your touch, Damian made a content sound from the back of his throat. Both of you were surprised that he was capable of such a thing. Putting his free hand between your shoulder blades, Damian coaxed you closer, getting you to put your weight on your elbows instead of your hand and wrist. You were so near each other, all one of you had to do to meet each other’s skin was to lean a little up or down, depending on which of you took the initiative. After you had continued your tender ministrations on the right side of your friend’s face for a while, Damian carefully moved your hand to his jaw, turning his face and leaning up to meet your lips. His attempt at a kiss was broken when your bedroom door swung open to reveal Garfield standing in the opening. A beat of silence occurred and if anyone had dropped a pin, it would have made a resonating clatter. 

The green boy stood still, shocked at the scene and with a look of outrage on his wide-set features. “What the heck are you doing to them?!”

Looking at your position, you understood how this could be perceived as Damian forcing you upon him, especially with his hands placed controllingly on your hand and back. Couple that with Garfield’s total lack of knowledge of your friendship. It wasn’t a pretty look for the man under you. 

You quickly tried to explain Damian’s innocence, but the man himself jumped in to defend himself, or so you thought. Instead of explaining the situation to Garfield, who stood in the doorframe, ready to turn into a tiger and maul the green-eyed Robin on the spot, Damian simply spat out an annoyed, “Get out!”

Garfield didn’t move, however. He instead entered the room, slamming the door behind him. “No! Let them go and get away from them!” 

Again you tried to explain, but before the words even reached your lips, Damian tugged you closer, burrowing your head in his shoulder and sending his green comrade a challenging look. “Or what?”

Garfield was taken aback, he didn’t expect things to escalate this far, but he adored you, thought of you as a dear friend, and there wasn’t a thing he wouldn’t do for his friends, which he decidedly didn’t consider Damian to be. “I’ll make sure you’ll never be able to touch anything again”. 

Realising how bad things were getting, you attempted to push Damian off you to diffuse the tensions, but he kept you in place and you began beating on his chest to let you go. “You’re just acting like this because you want them for yourself! You’re trying to take them away from me!” Damian sneered at Garfield as he sat both of you up, still keeping you close to him. Both you and your fellow team member were shocked at Damian’s words. They came out of the blue. “What?! No- That’s not- You know- I don’t-”, Garfield was too stunned to speak, but Damian wasn’t as he again commanded the green man, “Get out”. The man in question growled, “No way! Let them go, you psycho! I’ll tell Grayson how creepy you are!” The mention of his brother made something within Damian snap, he carefully let you go, making sure that he didn’t hurt you, the last moment of silence. Before you even had time to react, Damian grabbed a pencil from your desk, currently ignoring the knives abandoned next to it, and swung at Garfield. The attacked was able to jump away in time for the lead-cored writing utensil to just narrowly miss his head. It still bore deep into his shoulder, though, and he let out a howl in pain. You attempted to run to your friend’s aid, but both men told you to stay out of it. You wanted to race out of the door and get some of the others to help you, but the two men were blocking your path. You attempted to freeze both of the men’s feet, anything to keep them from each others’ throats, but your powers gave out on you and barely made a pfft sound as two puny clouds of snow emerged from your palms. You were panicking as Garfield turned into a verdant lion, right before your very eyes. You screamed for the two of them to stop, for one of them to just leave, anything other than fighting. You knew that a showdown would only result in someone getting seriously hurt and you wanted that for neither of your friends. You practically begged them to end the fight, but they both ignored you, with Damian grabbing two of the knives on your desk, and entering a fighting stance. 

You tried to run into the fight but were pushed down to the floor as Garfield jumped at Damian, who expertly sliced open the side of the green animal. A roar of pain filled the room and you wondered how none of the others had shown up yet, wishing with everything in you that Kori would come or even Victor. Any grown adult that was older than twenty. The thought of calling them briefly crossed your mind, but your phone was on the desk, which was being obstructed by the two men fighting. As a last-ditch effort to get help, you screamed your lungs out, “Kori! Victor! Anyone! Please!” Your throat became sore, the skin inside it felt ripped and inflamed, and yet you continued your screaming, like a mantra. But none came. 

What you didn’t know was the reason Garfield had gone to your room was to tell you that the others had gone to see a movie, one that both you and the green man had expressed disdain for. Garfield had planned a movie marathon for just the two of you, but now? Those plans seemed like a far-off dream.

Garfield was wounded, severely. Damian hadn’t even gotten a scratch. The dark-haired man considered his opponent as they circled each other. He scoffed, Garfield should’ve known he’d never stand a chance in a fight, but it was nothing if not a net positive for Damian. He got to get rid of the green boy who always clung to your side, so obviously having a crush the size of the moon. Disgusting, Damian thought. Did Garfield not know how beneath you he was? What made him ever believe he’d deserve you? He probably didn’t even love you, you were just someone he’d play around with until he got tired and then he’d throw you away. So far from Damian’s more respectable intentions, from his true and deep love which ran through his blood, getting pumped in through his heart and out through his veins. His love for you was his entire being. So, Damian was happy to get rid of the little green obstacle.

When Garfield jumped at Damian again, he felt a sudden shock as a knife was stuck in his chest. He shook and had to focus his entire being on not turning back into a human, if he did that, the wound would leave a much bigger impact. He didn’t get to ponder on it too long as Damian pushed him to the ground, sitting firmly on his lower abdomen, threatening to stick the second knife into Garfield’s throat. The bleeding man looked for you. If he had to die like this, he’d want to see you one last time. But he couldn’t find you in his sights. Suddenly, the weight on top of him was pushed off.  Trying to see who his saviour was, he caught a flash of your shirt. “What is wrong with you two?!” Your voice, you were practically hissing, hoarse beyond measure. 

Garfield gasped, and you quickly found your phone, calling your emergency number. You had a special one for the vigilantes, a measure to protect all of your identities.

After ending the call though, you felt something hard collide with your head, and you fell to the ground, blacking out at your back made contact with the floor, an incoherent scream in the background.

Damian had knocked you out with the book you had been reading previously, it had laid abandoned on the bed. He realised what he had just done would mean. He hadn’t considered the ramifications while in the heat of the battle, but now, all he could think about was how he’d lose you if he…when he was kicked off the team. There was no way that they’d let him stay after almost killing a teammate. So, he’d leave on his own accord. His mother would probably be mighty happy to see him again, she wouldn’t mind him bringing along his beloved. 

Leaving behind a screaming and bleeding Garfield, Damian picked you up and took out his phone from his pocket. He was surprised that it had stayed in there during the brief fight. Calling up his mother, she picked up immediately, it had been years and yet she was more than a little desperate to hear him utter the words she had waited so long for. “I’m coming home and I’m bringing a friend”. 

Dinah was inconsolable. Bruce had already tried to get her to calm down, but any time he opened his mouth, the blonde hero would cry about how this was his fault for raising a lunatic. Oliver also blamed Bruce, even going as far as to suggest making Damian their number one wanted enemy, a decision thoroughly backed by all except Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman. 

“He’s a confused boy!” Clark had tried to defend, but Dinah would have none of it.

“He kidnapped my kid, my Y/n! He’s a psychopath and he’s dangerous! Look what he did to Beast-Boy!” The blonde had gestured to the photos of Garfield’s extensive injuries. He had survived, but barely. There was heavy doubt about whether or not he’d ever be able to get back to his vigilante duties. The damage was the worst around his stomach area, where Damian had practically gutted him like a fish. 

It had been Garfield that explained what happened. How he had walked in on Damian forcing you upon him, the ensuing fight and your kidnapping. While his story wasn’t entirely true, it got the point across well enough. It had left Dinah and Oliver furious and out for blood. 

No matter how much Bruce attempted to convince the other Justice League members that he could convince Damian to give you back, it was hard to take him seriously when they, firstly, had no idea where the two of you were and, secondly, when looking at how he had almost snuffed out the life of a teammate.

The Doom Patrol demanded retribution as well, or at the very least reassurance that Damian would never return as a hero after what he had done to their former mentee. Rita Farr had almost been as devastated as Dinah when she had seen her adoptive son, racing to her green man’s side as soon as she had gotten the news, she still had yet to leave him for any substantial amount of time, barely letting herself get any food. 

“I want my sidekick back! Your boy took them from me! That makes it your responsibility too!” Dinah had hissed, letting her mouth hang open for a second, a clear warning that she would have no scruples about blowing up both Wayne men’s heads with her canary cry if she didn’t get the young hero, whom she saw more as her own child, back.

The Justice League had voted on whether or not Damian and Y/n should be hunted down, and it had been an overwhelming five to three in favour. 

After the vote, Oliver guided the fishnet-wearing heroine out of the tower to cool off. Slowly, most of the members followed, leaving only Bruce and Clark. Superman placed a hand on his friend’s back and gently rubbed circles into Bruce’s latex-clad back. “We’ll get them to see sense, don’t worry. It’s probably all just a misunderstanding”. Bruce knew that it wasn’t. He always had a feeling that something was off about his youngest son, he had simply ignored the signs in favour of training up yet another young vigilante, fit to take over his legacy.

“It’s not,” Bruce stated bitterly, letting his guilt take over his heart.

Months later, on the other side of the world, in the palace barracks of Eth Alth'eban, you sat next to Damian at a vast breakfast table. It had been so long since he took you with him, you presumed that no one had any idea where you were or that they simply weren’t looking. 

Damian hadn’t bothered taking any of your possessions along as he fled with you, so, when the clothes you had been wearing that damned Saturday had gotten sufficiently dirty, you let him outfit you in the deep green robes associated with the Al Ghuls, of which he wore a similar one himself. 

It had been long enough for you to give up hope of ever getting rescued. You had tried to escape, multiple times in fact. With your powers, (weak as they were in the beating sun), it was relatively easy to get away from the regular guards, meant to keep you within the palace’s walls. Damian was a completely different story, however. The moment he got news of your escape, he’d instantly know where you’d be heading, he knew you better than anyone else, after all. And as much as you tried to fight back against Damian, it was no use. He was too good of a fighter. So, you resigned yourself to your fate.

“What would you like to eat, beloved? I won’t let you skip a meal”, Damian questioned gently, while holding your hand tightly under the table, tracing figures of eight into your palm. You shrugged, you didn’t like the idea of taking food from your kidnappers, it felt like an admission of consent in the entire matter. Damian’s face hardened, “You have to eat something. I’m not repeating myself again, beloved.” His tone left no room for discussion. He had taken up the unfortunate habit of talking to you like one would a child, entirely incapable of taking care of itself.

“Maybe some fruit? I don’t know”, you stuttered out, which seemed to please Damian immensely.

“Of course”, he smiled as he reached his muscular arm over the table, fishing up a small assortment of colourful fruits, some of which you had never even seen before, and putting them on your plate. You observed his arm carefully, watching the muscles flex under his skin, which had gotten a much healthier golden glow since you arrived at the League of Assassins’ lair. 

Talia sat opposite the two of you, her eyes inspecting you with scrutiny. Her gaze made you want to shrivel up and hide behind Damian. She truly was as beautiful as she had seemed on the Justice League computer, if not even more. The computer hadn’t been able to capture just how sharp her green eyes were, nor how said eyes could make you feel like the smallest person in the entire world.

You sent Talia an apologetic smile as if to say, ‘I don’t want me to be here either, we’re in the same boat’. You had no idea if she got the hidden meaning, you doubted she would care, even if she did.

“I’ve taken time off from my duties today, Y/n. Perhaps we could walk through the gardens, or would you rather do something else?” Damian’s voice cut through your thoughts, he was observing you bite into the fruits he had picked out for you, so fresh that their juices dribbled down the corners of your mouth. Looking up at the youngest  Al Ghul you opened your mouth to speak, only for him to put a napkin over your lips, wiping away the stickiness left behind on your chin from your breakfast. 

“All better”, he muttered as he leaned over and pecked your cheek. Your face heated up. You couldn’t deny that you were attracted to him, but his treatment of Garfield, whom you presumed dead, kept flashing in your head every time you felt ready to forgive him, or at least try to. It made ever moving on with this new life of yours near impossible. “What about the library?” You suggested nervously, Talia’s presence usually did that to you. Leaning close and capturing your tepid lips with his, Damian hummed in agreement. Your eyes went to his mother, who was looking at the two of you with an emotion which was hard for you to decipher. 

As you strolled around the library, hand in hand with Damian, you picked out books which caught your interest. The League’s library truly held everything, there was at least one copy of every fiction and non-fiction book you’d ever heard of. “It’s important to have access to all information”, Damian chuckled every time you were surprised that the library held the book you’d ever asked for, no matter how new. You almost suspected that they held the unfinished versions of books, just to be sure that they didn’t miss out on the writer’s process. Despite the gigantic library holding so many books, very few were actually present except you and Damian. “Most assassins are too busy to read often”, a shame you thought, what was the point of having all these books if they never got read?

Deciding on a book to read, you attempted to walk towards a closed-off area with deep green couches, but Damian stopped you, pulling you back, and making you collide with his hard chest. The green-eyed man laughed loudly at your confused expression, his voice carrying across the many bookcases and returning back to you as an echo. Effortlessly plucking the book out of your hand, Damian kissed the crown of your head, whispering into your hair, “let me read to you, beloved”, it wasn’t a question nor was it a command, you couldn’t quite place it as anything other than a statement of fact. 

When you reached the sofas, the green-eyed heir pulled you towards him, urging you to sit between his outspread legs, an invitation which you were nervous to refuse. Settling down, you leaned back against his chest, letting the warmth of his body fill you up as he wrapped his free arm around your midsection, before starting to read out loud.

The book itself was disappointing, with one-dimensional characters and a boring setting, however, Damian’s raspy yet clear voice rang out perfectly without vibrato or mistakes in his pronunciation. Like melted chocolate and soft butter, his weirdly mixed accent was smooth and enchanting. You would have listened to him read any book, even a dictionary, for all of eternity. You never realised how musical Damian’s voice indeed was, his chest rumbling along with the words as you slowly started to relax in his grip. At one point the sound of his reading stopped. You opened your eyes, which you hadn’t even realised had closed during his reading, coming face to face with Damian’s eyes gazing down at you, you returned the gesture. He honestly looked like he had been carved by a renaissance sculptor. You wondered if he knew how breathtaking he really was. “You’re gorgeous”, the words tumbled from your lips like rocks over a cliff. Damian’s eyes softened, never had you seen him so vulnerable yet relieved, “Nothing compared to you”, he whispered reverently, moving his hand up your body and caressing your jaw softly. It hurt, not physically, but rather your mind. People usually said that emotions were centred in the heart, but you’d disagree, it was all in your brain, pulsing with the thoughts of Damian’s sweet touches, his attack on Garfield, the forced relationship and how you’d been infatuated with him ever since the evening that you two had gotten pizza. You had never been one to cry, you had grown up as a vigilante, and as a meta, you had been forced to put up a hundred proverbial walls, guarding your emotions and opinions with an iron fence. Still, as the pounding in your head got worse and Damian’s touches gentler, you couldn’t hold it in anymore, tears sprang from the corners of your eyes, and despite you biting down on the inside of your lips hard, almost drawing blood, you couldn’t keep in the body-wracking sob that pushed its way from the deep depths of your stomach and out through your mouth.

Damian took less than a second to react, lifting you up and turning you around, holding you close and letting you burrow your head deep into the deep green fabric covering his shoulder, soaking up the silky material with your salty tears.

Damian hugged you tightly to his body, trying to comfort you, whispering endearing reassurances into your ear. When it did nothing, you came to realise that your outburst wasn’t even caused by what Damian did, that was simply the spark that lit the fuse. It was everything else as well. Your mother practically gave you up to Dinah because she couldn’t handle that you weren’t just a normal kid, being thrown into the throngs of vigilantism at the age of ten, (even younger than any of the Robins which Bruce had taken on), and you had just been expected to be cool with it, to enjoy it even! You felt as if your childhood and teenage years had been robbed from you by Dinah’s never-ending ‘adventures’... yeah, that had been what she’d called it, “adventures”, it made it seem more fun than “missions”, less demanding than “potentially world-ending crisis needing immediate attention from two meta-powered humans, one of which being a child”. You were eighteen and you had never even gone to a school dance, never been to a party, never had a boyfriend… Well, now you did. You supposed it was only fitting that the only romantic relationship you had ever experienced was so intense and anything but childlike, it seemed to fit your life perfectly. You were filled with a burning hot rage, not aimed at Damian, but rather aimed at your mother, at Dinah, at Oliver and at anyone else who had supported the pillaging of your entire youth, all in the name of justice… What justice?! Certainly not any justice for you. Of all the people who had mistreated you, Damian was the better of two evils. At least he loved you, adored you even, he didn’t make you shoot ice beams at dummies for hours until your arms burned with the fury of a hundred suns and then demand that you run for hours afterwards. He treated you well, he made sure you ate, he read for you and now, in your darkest hour, he comforted you. 

Tightening your grip on the green-eyed man, you whispered softly into his neck, “Marry me, please”. If Damian was the best you could get, then you would make the best of a bad situation and love him back.

Damian was shocked, just this morning you had apathetically evaded his kisses and now you wanted to marry him. He was ecstatic, of course, but sceptical at the same time. Regardless, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity. If you were planning something nefarious, he’d deal with it swiftly. “It would be my greatest honour”, he exhaled, kissing the top of your head.

You sat there for what seemed like ages, his steady breathing calming yours, as well.  

Your moment was broken when one of the assassins dropped from the roof of the library, giving you a shock, yet not even surprising Damian. “Speak.” The Al Ghul heir commanded. 

“The Justice League have located us, they’re here to take back the royal consort Y/n”, the assassin had spoken loud and clear, in that peculiar way that they were trained to do.

“Prepare for a large-scale defence”. Those were the last words you heard before being hauled into your room by Damian, left with a searing kiss on your lips, the first one you ever reciprocated. How tragic.

It had been hours since the invasion by the Justice League, and you had no idea how either side was doing, the only window of your room was facing away from the palace barracks, which you supposed were where the fight was currently being held. Your thoughts went to Damian, you felt nauseous at the idea of him getting hurt. The image of his beautiful feature caved into a broken skull made you cringe and the very idea of losing him made you dizzy. You had situated yourself in the corner of the room, legs pulled to your chest and forehead resting on your knees, waiting for something you weren’t quite sure what was.

When you heard the sound of a cape blowing in the wind and the click of heels hitting the tiled flooring of the room, you glanced up. Outside your window floated Superman and in front of you stood Black Canary, tears streaming out of her eyes, the colour of forget-me-nots. “Oh, Y/n!” the blonde cried out as she wrapped you in her arms, the leather of her jacket was cool against your exposed neck. 

“Why are you here?” You uttered in distaste, not returning the hug of your former mentor. 

“We’re here to save you, Y/n! Oh, I’m so glad to have you back next to me! You have no idea how much I worried for you!” Dinah could barely keep her emotions in, something which was entirely different from her usual laid back personality. As the leather-clad heroine tried to drag you towards Superman’s waiting arms, you pulled back. You didn’t want them here. Everything had just fallen into place. You had technically just gotten engaged with a man who you were pretty sure that you loved, at least a little bit. 

You were slowly forming your own adulthood, you didn’t want Dinah to take this away as well, locking you up by her side forever until you would inevitably take her place. That wasn’t the life you wanted, you just desired a ‘normal’ existence with a husband and a home, why were the Justice League even here when you didn’t need to be saved anymore?

“Go home”, you commanded, copying the tone of your fiancé when he talked to his subordinates.

Dinah didn’t get what you were asking, instead happily grabbing your face and wiping non-existing tears from your cheeks. “Yes, darling! We’re going home! No more of any of this! We’ll be back in Star City, safe and sound! Oh, Roy even prepared a large brunch for tomorrow to celebrate your return, just you, Oliver, Roy, Lian and me”. You cringed at the idea, she was treating you like a child, as if you were still the ten-year-old kid who had stood on her doorstep, confused and in need of a mother’s guiding hand. Did she ever stop seeing you like that? You couldn’t help but wonder.

“No, I want to stay here” You tried to reason in an even voice. Dinah’s face fell.

“What?! Why?! No! You can’t! You’re just experiencing Stockholm Syndrome! It’ll all be better tomorrow!” The blonde tried to tug at you again, but you stood your ground. “No, I like it here, I want to stay. Damian treats me well, a-and I’ve been in love with him for longer than I’ve been here”, you argued, only to be met with a scoff.

“You don’t know what love is, Y/N! You’re so young, Damian just took advantage of your crush! That’s why he tried to force you upon him! Garfield told us, no need to explain! I understand!” Dinah was frantic at this point. You were her little kid, she couldn’t lose you!

“Damian didn’t force me upon him! I wanted to kiss him! Garfield came in and interrupted us! I-I don’t know how to make it clearer to you! I don’t want to leave Damian!” You were screaming at this point, and Dinah shook her head, blonde locks hitting both of your faces. She couldn’t accept that her sidekick would want to engage romantically with someone, you were too young! Too immature! Damian had to have taken advantage, right? He was only a year older than you, it suddenly occurred to her… but still, he had never occurred to her as a kid, always so adult. You two, together? It just seemed so… wrong.

“No, y-you’re too young, it’s… You’re… Please, Y/n! He’s a psychopath, he kidnapped you, and he hurt Garfield!” Dinah was struggling to find the words, her hands sliding from your face to your shoulders, needing something to steady her. She was clearly feeling unwell. It stabbed your heart, no matter how angry you were at her, she was still the person who had raised you for half of your life. You loved her as a mother, of course. But you couldn’t let her inability to let go ruin your life any longer.

You could feel your own tears dropping off your chin as well now. You were sobbing softly, much less visible than the woman in front of you, but still, it made your words shaky as you spoke again, quiet as if you were afraid to disturb a sleeping bear. 

“I’m not a kid anymore! When will you realise that I grew up! You’ve kept me in the role of a child for my entire life! But I’m an adult now and I’m engaged! I beg you, please let me stay, mom-”, you stopped and Dinah’s eyes widened and surged to find yours. Something within her stirred. It was somehow the first time either of you had verbalised the unspoken bond between the two of you. Yet, while it had always been a clear subtext in your relationship, to have it out in the open made Dinah feel so incredibly moved. It was true, though. The blonde heroine had always been a better and more true mother to you than your own. A revelation that made you pull her closer. “-I’m sorry.”  

The leather-clad woman shook her head, “No, don’t apologise. I’m the one who is sorry. I never realised.”

A beat of silence fell upon you two as you rested your head on each other’s shoulders. Breathing in shakily you recognised the perfume Dinah was wearing, it was the same one she had been wearing for the past five years and something about it made you feel nostalgic. You imagined this was how others would feel when they returned to their old childhood bedroom.

Looking towards the window again, you realised that Clark had left momentarily, probably not wanting to be caught in this familial dispute. 

Dinah was the one who broke the silence with a witty comment, “So, am I invited to the wedding or not?”

“I’m not sure Damian will want you here after you attacked his organisation.” You chuckled.

“Well, he’ll have a hard time refusing if I throw the Justice League on him again.”

“Maybe. Does that mean you’ll let me stay?”, you muttered with a smile, slowly pulling away from your former mentor.

“Yes, although it will mean that you can never rejoin vigilante circles. Damian has been totally blacklisted, are you prepared for the same to happen to you?” 

You thought about her question. It took you a moment, but every time Damian’s green eyes and teasing smile emerged in your mind your heart would beat like a morning alarm. You had no clue if it was the right choice…No, you were entirely sure that it was the wrong one, as a matter of fact. Especially as Garfield’s mangled body interrupted your rosy imaginations of your fiancé, but you felt bound to Damian and you weren’t sure if you would survive leaving him, you felt too dependent on his love. “Yes”, you pushed out shakily, your final answer.

Dinah had left with Superman, taking the rest of the Justice League with them. They had done minimal damage to the League of assassins, it had mostly been a fight for distraction, after all.

You felt entirely unsure of your decision as you stood by Damian’s side looking at the heroes retreating. But with Talia’s sharp gaze forcing you into submission and Damian’s warm hand rubbing calming circles on your shoulder, you realised that there really hadn’t been a choice. Even if you had left with your blonde mentor, your green-eyed fiancé would never have let you stay with her. So, perhaps, this was all for the better. At least you had a friend and lover around your age now, which was an improvement… right?

A/N: Yes, you can just ignore this, it's mostly for the user who sent in the request. Thank you for this great idea! I know you had to wait a while for it... but it was also a lot to write, which made it take way longer than I had originally planed...hehe... Anyways! I hope you enjoy it and that I didn't disappoint with the long wait, I tried my best to honour your request!

I have sm shit in my drafts I should probably finish those before starting on the ones in my inbox💔