#and damien would catch it

[fleurlumii]

just a random thought but imagine that out of the entire D.A.M.N Crew, Lasko & Dear would be the first ones to get married (even though they're the final couple to form in the group)

[torchstelechos]

Say what you will about the DC timeline but we all know the truth, Jason Todd uses AO3 and has an account despite not understanding these new fangle technological advancements (hes fucking with Tim he understands what cookies are, it pisses off Tim more than anything else Jason has done)

[enferm0s]

Return Of The Living Dead Dolls Posey is up for preorder on the Mezco website! <3

[geeky-nightphilosopher]

I read somewhere that Christian Kane called Eliot Spencer a serial killer and my brain was like; "What? No he is not!"

And then- I remember Damien Monreau.

[boopjuice]

Lantern was the first to approach him once the child had fallen asleep. He seemed awkward, afraid to make a noise and wake them up. It wasn't likely to happen, he was so exhausted from screaming Batman was pretty sure the poor guy would sleep through gunfire.

"So... What is it we should be doing?" He was sure Lantern could see his raised brow from through his cowl as he stumbled over his words. "I mean, we know what we should be doing. Trying to find a way to get out without destabilizing the cave, wait for Cyborg and the others to show up, find a way to signal out exact location. It's just... How do we do that from in here?"

He'd been thinking on that himself, before it became clear that none here had ever held even a happy child, let alone a terrified one. He stayed silent, debating the best course of action. He could summon the batplane, have it land on top of their position, but would Cyborg know that's what it meant? Would he be able to use the comms, choppy as they were underground, to tell him? More importantly, would the plane landing destabilize the pocket they were in? It was a risk he couldn't take, especially not with the baby on his chest.

The little one shivered a little, clenching tiny fists against his shoulder, and he reached over his shoulder to wrap the baby in his cape as best as he could.

"There's not much we can do. I have a small beacon, but it won't do much good until Cyborg's a little over a mile away, thanks to all this," he gestured at the collapsed cave. "All we can really do is wait."

"How did you do that?" Batman pulled the beacon out of his utility belt. It really was small. He'd designed them for Dick when he'd become Robin, in case he got trapped out of sight. He'd made sure the League systems could pick up on them too, even though Dick was off on his own now. Tim had one, now, and so had Jason. He pushed the thought away as he picked a spot to place the beacon.

"Do what?" he finally responded.

"How'd you get the kid to stop screaming? You aren't exactly known for your cuddly nature." It was Flash who answered, not Lantern, but he suspected they'd been asking the same question he wanted to avoid. Too many memories were buried there. His children, heartbroken after failing to save someone, terrified after their first and second and twentieth near death encounter, hurt and scared and unable to do anything about it.

"Gotham has a high population of homeless. Including children." The cave felt like it was holding it's breath as he dodged the real reason in favor of one that hurt him a little less, kept him from remembering his own failures.

"Some people there have morals. Some don't. You need to be able to keep children calm and quiet to free them, sometimes. And you need them to know they're safe after, no matter what happened."

He let the team's eyes follow him as he began to walk the perimeter again, still rocking the baby boy with olive skin and the start of dark hair on his head. He didn't tell them about the fall of the Grayson's and how many times he'd comforted Dick. Didn't tell them about Tim facing his uncle, and how he'd shaken. Didn't tell them about Jason. About the child he failed.

He just kept the baby asleep, humming and talking and running over how he could get him home safe. How he could save this child.

Can someone write a fic where Bruce is on a JL mission and they somehow get a baby that they need to take care of until they find their parents. And all the JL members just cannot stop this baby from crying (this is before Clark has Jon so he’s pretty clueless with babies still) and eventually Bruce is like, “give them to me.”

And the JL is like “uhh, we don’t know if we should trust BATMAN with a baby, but at this point… fuck it.” And hand the baby over to him.

And Batman tucks the baby into his chest and softly bounces them, talking to them gently in a deep rumbly voice. “It’s okay sweetheart. Shhh, you’re safe.” And eventually, the baby doesn’t just stop crying, but falls asleep.

And the JL just stand there, gobsmacked. Because what the fuck??? Why is the Batman so good with babies??? And the rest of the mission Batman just has the baby because a) they don’t want them to wake up and start fussing again. And b) because Batman looks genuinely happy (as happy as Batman can be without deeply horrifying the JL).

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤBELOVEDㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Damian Wayne x Fem Reader Part 1

☆⁠ HEADCANON : What If He Become Obsessed With Dick's Girlfriend?

☆⁠ NOTES : It's just a cute and funny headcanon and should not be taken seriously. Y/n obviously have no feeling for him and see him as a little brother. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

You’ve been dating Dick for a while, and naturally, this means you’re in Wayne Manor a lot. It’s not that you mind, but being around the Batfamily is like trying to survive a sitcom where every character is armed.

And then there’s Damien.

Oh, sweet, little, stabby Damien.

At first, he’s a little terror. He’s always scowling at you, calling you things like “Richard’s latest concubine” or “another unnecessary attachment.”

It’s fine. You ignore him. He’s a kid. A weird kid with ninja skills and a superiority complex, but a kid nonetheless.

But then something shifts.

You don’t know when it started—maybe it was the first time you helped Damian with his homework (because, let's face it, the kid can’t count past ten without losing his temper), or maybe it was the first time you accidentally brushed his hair aside while he was brooding on the roof. Either way, the moment you paid him just a little bit of attention, you sealed your fate.

Now Damien was everywhere. Not in an obvious “he’s following you” way—no, he was stealthier than that. He would conveniently show up whenever you visited the Wayne Manor, leaning against a doorframe, pretending he hadn’t been waiting there for 45 minutes.

“Oh, it’s you again. Why are you always lurking like a feral cat, Damien?” you’d tease, and he’d scowl, muttering about how you wouldn’t understand his “intellectual pursuits.”

He starts showing up wherever you are, uninvited. Oh, you’re in the kitchen trying to make breakfast? Guess who just landed behind you, silently hovering like a tiny, murderous shadow? "I see you're using the wrong knife to cut that," he says, smugly eyeing the blade, “and you should be cutting it at a 45-degree angle. Let me handle it.”

You look over, blink a few times, and try to avoid an aneurysm. "Damian, what—"

"I’m simply trying to prevent you from making mistakes," he interrupts, already taking the knife from your hand with the confidence of someone who’s never been told ‘no’ in their entire life. Yes, he did just steal your kitchen knife.

He goes from glaring at you across the dinner table to…well, staring at you.

It’s subtle at first, but you notice. You’ll catch his eyes lingering a little too long when you’re laughing with Dick, or feel him trailing after you when you wander the manor.

You think it’s cute. Like a kid with a crush on their babysitter.

When he insists on showing you his katana skills? You humor him. “Wow, Damien, you’re so talented!” you gush. Dick thinks you’re being nice. Damien thinks you’re in love.

When he critiques your relationship with Dick? “Grayson isn’t good enough for you. He’s reckless, emotionally stunted, and too busy pretending to be a circus clown to prioritize your needs.”

You laugh it off. “I’ll keep that in mind, Damien.”

Mistake #1. He interprets this as you agreeing with him.

When he starts bringing you tea? Complimenting your outfit choices? Sitting way too close to you during movie night?

“Aww, he’s opening up to me!” you think.

Damien is so dramatic about it. Every time Dick kisses you, hugs you, or just breathes in your direction, Damien is in the background like a Shakespearean villain.

He walks into the room, sees you cuddling with Dick, and immediately storms out with a loud, "Tt. Disgusting."

Alfred offers him cookies to calm him down. Damien refuses because he’s too furious to snack.

Mistake #2. You’re feeding the monster.

Damien moves from “weirdly attached” to “what the hell is happening” alarmingly fast.

He wasn’t subtle. He decided to prove his superiority over Dick by painting your portrait. At midnight.

“Damien,” you said when you caught him, holding a brush like he was Da Vinci reincarnated, “why are you painting me?”

“Because no one else can capture your essence,” he replied, dead serious.

You left before he could explain that he was also building a shrine in his closet.

He doesn’t interrupt your date... at first, not directly. He doesn’t need to. Damian’s signature passive-aggressive commentary will follow you home, like a ghost. "I saw you let Dick drive. You know his driving skills are subpar at best, right? I wouldn’t trust him with a paper airplane." You’re not even sure how he knew you two were driving, but the comment lands, and it cuts like a knife.

You try to confront him. “Damian, stop following me around like a puppy! You’re a child. A literal child. Go play with toys or something.”

Damian’s face twists with a mix of indignation and disgust. “I do not play with toys, Y/N. I train. Unlike some people.”

And the best part? Damian doesn't even hide his feelings for you. One night, after you and Dick have spent a quiet evening watching movies, Damian barges in, wearing his usual scowl, and just points at you. "I’ve decided," he declares dramatically. "You’re mine now."

You almost choke on your popcorn. "Excuse me??"

"That’s right. You’ve been chosen." He’s so serious, like this is some ancient prophecy he’s about to fulfill.

He starts referring to you as his beloved in casual conversation.

“Father, inform Grayson he’s no longer allowed to monopolize my beloved’s time.”

“Your what?!” Dick is confused.

At first, you thought it was a joke. “That’s cute, Damien, but I’m pretty sure you learned that from a Victorian novel.”

But he wasn’t joking. He never joked. He’d say it with all the seriousness of someone discussing global diplomacy. “One day, you’ll understand why I call you that, Beloved.”

One day, you accidentally called him a kid in front of everyone. “Relax, kiddo.”

You’d barely finished the sentence before he stormed off, muttering about how ungrateful you were for his “protection.”

Later, Alfred informed you that Damien spent the evening sulking on the roof. “It’s not sulking, Pennyworth. It’s strategizing.”

The moment Damien saw how you look at Dick, something inside him snapped. Why does Grayson get everything? he thought bitterly, watching from the shadows like a gremlin.

From then on, he started… intervening.

He’d interrupt your dates by calling Dick with “emergencies.” (“Richard, Gotham is on fire. I require your assistance.”)

Or other ways.

Dick: “Sorry I’m late. My motorcycle suddenly lost all its tires.”

You: “Wow, weird coincidence. Damien’s been in the garage all day.”

Damien innocently: “You should’ve asked me for a ride, beloved.”

He’d conveniently sit between you on the couch during movie nights, arms crossed, glaring at the screen like he wanted to kill the romantic lead just for existing.

Once, when Dick brought you flowers, Damien helpfully reminded you that roses often carried pests. You gave him a side-eye but thanked him for the warning.

One time, you catch him trying to slip his number into your phone.

“Damien, what are you doing?”

“Ensuring you can contact someone competent in emergencies.”

“That’s what Dick is for?”

“Grayson couldn’t competently fold a bedsheet.”

It all comes to a head when you find Damien casually trying to poison Dick.

You walk into the kitchen and there he is, sprinkling something suspicious into a smoothie.

“Damien, what the hell?”

He doesn’t even flinch. “It’s non-lethal. He’ll just feel weak enough to stay in bed for a few days. That way, we can spend quality time together.”

“QUALITY TIME?!”

He tilts his head, genuinely confused. “Don’t you want that?”

One day, you accidentally brought up his height. “Wow, Damien, have you grown an inch?”

That was it. That was the moment he vowed to become taller than Dick at any cost. He spent weeks researching growth supplements, adjusting his diet, and hanging upside down from the training bars in the Batcave.

Mistake #3. You don’t run immediately.

He “accidentally” breaks the bracelet Dick gave you (oops, it was an inferior material anyway).

Your favorite coffee cup disappears, and suddenly Damien has one just like it. "Strange coincidence, isn’t it?"

Damien starts “correcting” everything Dick tells you, from battle tactics to what kind of wine pairs best with dinner.

He trains Titus to growl whenever Dick comes near you. "Good boy, Titus. Show him who’s unworthy."

He steals your phone to block Dick’s number. "We should eliminate distractions."

You once made the mistake of jokingly calling him "cute," and now he’s convinced you’re secretly in love with him.

Dick, bless his heart, is completely oblivious.

“I think it’s great how well you and Damien are getting along,” he says, grinning like a golden retriever. Meanwhile, Damien is plotting your future wedding.

"I’m humoring her for your sake," Damien lies through his teeth while handing you a handmade sword engraved with your initials.

Damien constantly tries to prove he’s a better option than Dick:

“Richard is reckless. I, however, would never put you in harm’s way.” (Meanwhile, Damien drags you into an actual rooftop stakeout just so he can show off.)

“He can’t even cook. Did you know I can make authentic Middle Eastern cuisine?”

“You deserve someone who values you.”

You find a locked box in your room one day. Inside is a collection of…disturbingly Damien things.

A pressed flower you don’t remember receiving.

A strand of your hair.

A list titled “Reasons Why I’m Better Than Richard” (it’s very thorough).

A draft of a love letter in calligraphy that starts with “Dearest light of my tortured soul…”

You finally sit him down for a talk.

“Damien, you’re like a little brother to me.”

His expression doesn’t change. “I’m not your brother. Nor will I ever be.”

“Damien, you’re sweet, but—”

“I’m not sweet.”

“Okay, you’re terrifying, but you’re also 13.”

He stared at you, eyes narrowing. “I’ll wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“For you to realize that I’m the only one worthy of your affection.”

“Damien…”

“The age gap will be irrelevant in five years.”

“And when that day comes, I’ll be ready.”

When you reject him (because obviously), he tries to play it cool but fails miserably.

“Tt. I wasn’t serious anyway. Your taste is terrible.”

Proceeds to storm off, but not before stealing your scarf.

You find it later in his room draped over a practice dummy he definitely punched several times while muttering Dick’s name.

Bruce gets involved after Damien “accidentally” pushes Dick off a rooftop.

“You need therapy,” Bruce says bluntly.

“You’re just upset I succeeded where you failed,” Damien snaps back.

He does go to therapy but somehow convinces his therapist he’s completely normal. (Because of course he does.)

Alfred is the real MVP.

“Perhaps you’d like to consider not obsessing over your brother’s partner, Master Damien.”

“You don’t understand, Pennyworth. She needs to be protected.”

“From what, sir? A happy relationship?”

Everything become worse when Damien starts sparring with Dick for no reason other than to “test his worthiness.” You have to physically drag him away while Dick just stands there, confused and bleeding.

“He’s weak,” Damien hisses as you shove him into a chair.

“He’s your brother!”

“And yet, he’s undeserving.”

In the end, Damien doesn’t give up. He’s stubborn like that.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— NEXT ☆ Part 2 Part 3

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[taco-rambles]

DC XDP prompt: Danny falls out of a portal literally into Batmans arms in a JL meeting.

Feel free to play with this. I probably will write more, but I'm STUCK and don't know how to write the JL or anyone else for that matter.

XXX

The Justice League meeting had gone very well. For once there were no major crisis from anyone attending, and all of the regular members of the league were in attendance. A few of the second row hero’s had begged off for one reason or another, but nothing that was a threat of any real kind.

Batman was wary, and on edge as the meeting wrapped up. It was never this simple, it just couldn’t be. There was always some kind of threat to keep an eye on, but the worst thing that had come up during the meeting were routine security updates.

No one else seemed to be on edge from the far too calm, routine meeting, and Bruce had just about convinced himself that it was really just one of those meetings where nothing outrageous would happen. It was ideal even…

Then the alarms went off, in the specific modulation that indicated a magical incursion.

Batman wasn’t the only one who’s hands went to weapons when the portal materialized above the meeting room table only a moment after the alarm went off. Swirling lazarus green had him ready for the fight even as the rest of the league went into defensive positions around the incursion.

“What…” Flash started to ask about a minute later when nothing had happened yet, the alarms still blaring.

That’s when something came flying out of the portal, at speed, back first.

Batman had a split second to decide to attack… or not. A split second to try to process the impressions and decide if this was an attack.

The portal closed as he cradled the small body that had crashed into his arms, the alarms silencing a moment later as the rest of the league tried to catch up, all of them wondering if this was some new threat.

Batman looked down at the child in his arms, a boy in his mid teens and small for his age, with white hair framing a frighteningly familiar looking face, gently pointed ears, and fangs in a mouth that gasped for breath against pain. The eyes were closed, twisted tight as the child clutched at his chest and belly, holding together severed flesh that leaked lazarus green blood from a clinical and too regular wound. Fingers tipped with small claws spasmed, tears coming from closed eyes.

“Batman?” Wonder Woman asked, Diana’s voice filled with concern as Bruce wrapped the child in his arms and stood up from where he had been knocked on his ass catching said child.

“Call down to medical. Severely wounded unknown,” he snapped, moving towards the door, only to stop as there was a flash of light in his arms, and the child suddenly gained a solid weight that was closer to human. The blood dripping from passed out hands was now brilliant red, fingertips blunt with chewed nails, the boy’s skin going from pale white to… a healthier tone.

Bruce consciously stopped cataloging his observations then, swiftly making his way to medical. Whatever this boy was, whether he intended to tug at Batman’s heart the way he was or not, was severely wounded and needed medical attention immediately.

He could process it all, and wonder why a child looking exactly like Damian Wayne had been thrown into his arms through a lazarus portal later.

XXXXX

An hour later, after a discreet call to his youngest just to be sure, Bruce watched the now sedated child in the medical cot, working on trying to face match the databases and find out if the child came from earth or not.

The searches primarily turned up Damian Wayne. Bruce knew for certain this child was not his son, but he was also running a DNA analysis because this Might be his son. It made a disheartening amount of sense for this boy to be another version of Damien, perhaps from another dimension, or some manner of clone, or perhaps Talia had simply hidden another child of his away… Bruce needed to narrow down the possibilities, to find the truth.

Of course, it was equally possible that this boy was some manner of mimic, taking on a form that would ensure his safety in unknown environment, a shape shifter intentionally injuring himself in order to infiltrate the Watchtower. Though that last theory didn’t make sense for a number of reasons. Most shape shifters would be secure enough in their abilities to simply try to mimic someone who already had access to the watch tower, to say nothing of the boy’s dramatic entrance.

Batman wasn’t thinking logically. Bruce couldn’t simply leave the boy here though. Not until he knew more, everything relevant by preference. The thought that this might be his son in any way was enough to keep him near, but he could already tell he was compromised.

He had already informed Diana and Clark, and both of them had agreed that he should stay nearby until they had the situation sorted out.

Bruce had been stuck in a circular though pattern for about fifteen minutes when a green form came into the room, J’onn looking at him calmly.

“Can you find anything out?” Batman asked without preamble, unable to bring himself to observe polite pleasantries when he was so unsettled.

“Nothing beyond surface thoughts. The boy’s mind is static and pain of the emotional kind,” J’onn stated after a moment.

Batman nodded, accepting the answer. J’onn’s abilities weren’t always the answer to everything, could indeed often be a crutch that led to the wrong answers. But they could also give the Justice League a starting point often enough.

“You should rest friend. It is unlikely that the boy will awaken soon…” J’onn cut himself off with a quiet look at the boy. “Or not. He’s coming around.”

Batman watched as the child’s eyes blinked open, drowsy expression turning to the two heros without much recognition. Bruce didn’t let himself react, kept himself in a calm pose even as his mind once more went into overdrive.

The boy had blue eyes, not green like Damian's.

[hello-eden]

Unexpected Hope

Damian has been disoriented all week. When he was told that stopping the ritual would have repercussions, he did not expect this. He had been dealing with the memories on his own but unfortunately he could not postpone this gala. 

He had been stopping a ritual that would end up summoning the being he now knows as Undergrowth. Damien does not regret that choice especially now that he has the context. Unfortunately it brought back his memories of Phantom.

He didn't quite understand they were memories for quite a while honestly he was a little bit concerned he got possessed. Thankfully after some compartmentalizing and a little bit of isolation, he figured out what was wrong. It did not help the confusion that comes with being a Midwestern teen and an assassin child put into one body but he has gotten the hang of it. 

Unfortunately Damian did not get long before he was forced back into the presence of his family. he had put off many public family events in the last few months so he was not able to get out of this event. he probably could have faked being sick but he'd much prefer to be able to pass off any of his symptoms from the memories as uncomfortableness being around strangers then be alone with his family. 

He's honestly very happy with his choice after he sees her. He doesn't recognize her at first with the dark auburn braided hair and the dress being something other than black but something made him turn around when he heard her rant.

She was giving a humanitarian speech to one of the investors. At first he got closer just to hear about it. It's always funny to see the faces of the imbeciles when people don't bow to their wishes.

Damien thought he finally found someone who was not a gold digger or a social climber. What made him really stop in his tracks was her body language. It was like a neon flashing sign opened up and said ‘hey this is Sam Mason’. 

Damien walked over with hope in his chest that he was not alone. she eventually seemed to get tired of the man or maybe he was able to scramble an excuse and walk away. he couldn't quite hear but by the time he walked over there it was only her.

 “you seem to be quite passionate,” Damian says, trying to start a conversation and figuring out how to ask the hard question.

 What is he exactly supposed to say? ‘Hey, are you my best friend for my last life or hey do you remember being on my ghost hero vigilante team that ended up with all of us being Undead royalty.’

The girl looks him over, probably trying to figure out what he wants. 

“Are you here to argue?” She says angrily, obviously ready for another fight.

“Your speech reminds me of someone, have you ever heard of Samantha Mason” Damien says trying to be nonchalant.

Her eyes seem to widen and look him over again.

“Where'd you hear that name.” She ordered.

“I've heard enough of her rants to be able to pick it out from a crowd.”

 “Danny,”  She said softly her grabbing his hands and squeezing as she looked around to make sure no one saw. “what how I thought it was the only one” Hope seemed to be filling her eyes. 

“Hi Sam” Damien Whispers just as softly just as glad he is not alone. 

Without another word Sam drags them to the stairway rushing up to the floor upstairs and trying to find a room that isn't being used. She eventually finds one two floors above the room they were using for the gala and pushes him into what looks like a break room.

 “How the hell did you get your memories” Sam demands 

“Why are you yelling at me? You have your memories too obviously if you are recognizing your name” Damian says shouting back at her. 

Sam always has a way of catching him off guard. She was happy just a minute ago. 

“yeah well I did something stupid which means I know you did something stupid” Sam said pointing her finger at him.

“ Well I may have accidentally stumbled upon a ritual for summoning an ancient and when I stopped it the backlash gave me my memories back. ” Damien stumbled over their words trying to justify themselves. "What stupid thing did you do?”

“The girls in my stupid Prep School in my grade went through a very witchy phase. there was a slumber party and they were stupid enough to actually find real magic. I had a cut on my hand earlier in the day and try to freak them out by adding a little bit of my blood. apparently my protection spell is literally stuck into my soul, so things went down” Sam says just as hesitantly as Damien

 “you have zero leg to stand on okay fine we were both stupid” 

They both sat there in silence for a while, mostly just basking in each other's presents realizing they weren't alone anymore.

“it's good to have you back," Damian says, giving her a weak smile and running his hands through his hair.

He'd been trained out of all of his nervous ticks but it probably makes her more comfortable to see him just as nervous as she is.

“it's good to see you too da- do you have the same name?” both of them don't seem to realize at the same time that they didn't get each other's names. 

“Damien” he says as he pulls his hand out of his hair and puts his hand out for a handshake. 

“Sarah” she says, grabbing his hand and giving it a shake.

the two of them shake their hand for a moment before they look at each other's eyes and burst out giggling. 

Damien's really glad he decided to not pretend to be sick.

[prlssprfctn]

I've had the idea in my head for a long time that Damien would act like a little protector towards Jason. Because he remembers him from the league and remembers his nightmares, anger and despair.At that time, Demi calmed his nightmares by saying that as the future head of the league, he could easily protect him from some kind of clown.

the image of little cocky Damian witnessing LoA!Jason waking up from the nightmare, blinking slowly at the sight, and scoffing: "why are you afraid? what is this clown against ME?", all while Jason tries to catch his breath, chokes on an unexpected laughter, and just coos on this three apple tall baby sits in my head for a while now. i agree.

[prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue]

Damien Wayne x Tokyo Ghoul Reader

imagine!! : Damien Wayne is a complex character on his own , he has his own complex emotions and feelings that not many people can understand, que in a ghoul like sibling whom can comfort Damien in his hard times by reminiscing their own experience with them.

Edit : ty for the 48 likes!!!

part 2 , part 3

Damien knew from the beginning that he was difficult . He knew that if it wasn't for the fact that he was Bruce's only blood child and the fact that he's bloody good at handling a sword that no one would bat him a bloody eye.

It was no one's fault in the family, really. He couldn't blame them honestly. Not one of them fully grasp the concept of being a living breathing weapon . A tool only made to bring destruction and wrath to others . Simply a tool. They won't understand that his angry outbursts was just him trying to come to terms with the fact that he was human and humans don't result to anger for everything.

But grasping that concept is easier said than done . Not when he grew up not knowing the warmth of a mother's embrace or the loving scolding of a father when he ate cookies for breakfast . He grew up only knowing that he had to kill to live .Not everyone in this family can grasp that but one .

Y/n is an enigma . At first, he found them absolutely weird when he first met them . He always thought their one red eye was repulsive - absolutely monstrosity. He hated how quiet they were , the bloody fact that he was a trained assassin, and he couldn't hear nor detect them entering the same room as them absolutely pissed him off.

He hated the fact that they were way too good at offense and defense . He always recalled the first mission he went with them and observed how they had somehow skillfully unarmed ten of Joker's henchmen with a bloody rock. He hated them alot you could imagine until one faithful night.

It was after one of his many tantrums , honestly Bruce and bloody Dick were getting on his nerves by calling him a child, and it only escalated when Bruce threatened to send him board school . He was so pissed he just straight up left the mansion himself and sat out in the garden.

He hadn't expected them to follow him though and at first he wanted to bloody stab them - so he did , he threw a knife at them and instead of dodging or catching it , Y/n allowed to knife to pierce their shoulder.

They hadn't even wince just gave him a smile.

" I understood why you're mad, Damien." They voiced as they sat next to him.

Damien only scowl . " You understand me - that's hilarious " .

" I do, Damien . Do you think I wanted to be what I am ? I am only what I am because people want a weapon . They were far too weak and fragile to fight off their own problems for themselves so why not let an innocent child do it for them " they said as they ripped the knife out of their shoulder and threw it behind them.

Damien shared a knowing - an understanding look with them as he finally grasped what they meant . They were a weapon like himself. A shared silence consumed them .

" These twats don't get how - how angry I am " Damien finally muttered out.

Y/n shook her head in agreement .

" They don't understand the anger we carry is not just our own but the anger of an innocent child begging for their stolen youth back " y/n muttered back.

They turned to him and held his hand with a little squeeze . Damien looked at their intertwined hands with a little smile.

" Human contact feels nice," he muttered as he squeezed their hand back . Y/n only smiled back and from then on the two were inseparable.

Wherever Y/n lurked , Damien was right next to them and wherever Damien went , Y/n went with them. Whenever Dick took away Damien's swords , Y/n would always steal it back for him. Whenever Bruce was being a bit harsh on y/n for being blood thirsty , Damien would always stand up for them.

Thus the family was shocked to see Damien , a man of fury and blood lust bond with someone . Safe to say, many of the siblings were jealous of their strong bond .

So when Dick brought up the fact with Damien one day . " So you're allies with a weird ghoul who probably murders for fun -" he was met with a knife piercing his kneecap.

[nillial]

i finished ethersea

mentally preparing to finish ethersea

[eiralunaire]

Headcanons of Damian Wayne. Part Two.

12. His Confusion About Love (But He Feels It Intensely).

Damian never understood how others could talk about love so easily. In his world, love wasn't a priority: it had always been training, fighting, and controlling. But with his girlfriend, things were different. Sometimes, in the midst of his emotional intensity, he didn't know how to handle his feelings. While he remained stoic on the outside, inside his head kept spinning: *“Is this love? Is it normal to want to be with someone all the time? It shouldn't be so complicated...”* However, what he did know, for sure, was that he had never felt something so strong for another person.

13. The Typical, but Different.

Although Damian is a reserved guy and doesn't usually make the typical romantic gestures, when he's with her, he feels weird, but happy to try. For example, one day, without warning, he takes her to an art exhibition that he knows she's interested in, or invites her to a park to see the stars, even if to him it all sounds a bit cheesy. He does it because he knows she likes it, and if it's something that makes her smile, then it's a worthwhile effort. Sometimes he catches himself thinking that, somehow, those little moments can be more important than a fight or a mission.

14. The Warrior Prince's Insecurity.

Even though Damian never says it out loud, there are times when he feels like he's not enough for his girlfriend. It's not because she's done anything to provoke him, but because, deep down, he can't help but compare himself to the perfection of what he thinks he should be. The son of Batman. The leader of the League of Assassins. The best fighter. And yet, sometimes, he feels out of place when he's by her side, because she has that ability to be light, cheerful, and genuine. He, on the other hand, is so used to carrying the weight of the world that it's hard for him to open up completely. But as she accepts him for who he is, he begins to learn that he doesn't need to be perfect to be enough for her.

15. Simple Details (That He Would Never Forget).

Damien is great at noticing details, and it's not just because he learned it as part of his training. In the case of his girlfriend, he pays attention to the little things that, to her, might seem insignificant: the brand of her perfume, the way she strokes her hair when she's nervous, or how she always has a habit of putting her coffee cup in an exact position on the table. While he won't say it out loud, Damian likes to know that, in those moments, he has a kind of silent power. Not just because he protects her, but because he understands what makes her who she is.

16. Escaping the Darkness Together.

Deep down, Damian is aware of the shadows that haunt him. The darkness of his family, of his training, of everything that comes with being the son of Bruce Wayne and Ra’s al Ghul. But in his girlfriend, he finds something that has nothing to do with that. With her, he can just be Damian: a boy who is falling in love, a boy who feels… good, without having to be the assassin or the leader of the League of Assassins. He likes how she gives him space to be himself, how she is able to bring something as essential as fresh air to his life, even when everything he knows is shrouded in layers of gray and complexity. With her, he feels less trapped in his destiny.

17. Any Excuse is Good to Be Near.

Damian is not the type to go out of his way for texts or calls, but when he is on a mission or out, he always finds the perfect excuse to send a message, even if it is just to say *"I'm here, everything is okay."* It is hard for him to admit it, but he needs to know that she is okay, that she is not alone. If she ever mentions something that's bothering her, he'll think about it for hours, searching for a way to fix it, even if it's something as small as the fact that she's out of his favorite marshmallows.

18. "Don't Let Me Go"

Sometimes, when the situation gets more tense or they're on a mission, Damian has moments where he unintentionally shows a more vulnerable side. "Don't let me go alone," he tells her quietly. He doesn't do it to sound weak, but because he doesn't want to face danger without her nearby. The funny thing is that, despite his image of a strong man, those moments serve to remind him that he doesn't always have to carry all the weight of the world. With her, he has an ally, and that's more than he ever thought he could have.

20. His Way of Saying "I Love You".

Damian would never say those two words in a conventional way. For him, love is not expressed with phrases. It is expressed with actions. It may be that, at the end of a long day, he surprises her with a cup of her favorite tea, or that he defends her from anything that bothers her without her asking. And when he finally says it, if the time comes, it will be something like, "I don't care what happens, but I will never let you get hurt." Because, in a way, that is his way of being vulnerable, of saying what he feels without saying it directly.

21. Being Together Is The Only Thing That Matters.

In moments of calm, when they are at home, everything else disappears. It doesn't matter what happened during the day, or the battles that Damian has faced. The only thing that matters is being near her. Whether it's watching a movie, having a coffee in silence or just talking about any nonsense, he values ​​those moments of simplicity. And although he never says it, in his mind, those are the moments that really make it all worth it. Being with her is his way of escaping, and despite all the chaos that surrounds him, he knows that, finally, he has something that truly belongs to him.

[trying-harder-then-u]

Russian roulette

The gun hit the table with a loud "clank," catching Damien by surprise. He had been enjoying the sound of the wind rustling through the well-maintained trees, but now that a weapon was being chucked around, he reckoned he should probably pay attention. Turning around, he saw Jacob smugly looking down at him, his blonde hair dropping over his deep brown eyes, a spotless white shirt and a pair of tan pants loosely fitting his thin, lightly muscled frame, a gold chain the only jewelry he had. Damien sighed to himself; he should have known that his rich, bratty friend was up to something, but when you get invited to a rural manor for a weekend by the son of the richest oil tycoon this side of the Atlantic, you don't tend to make a habit of saying no. The gun was black with gold and white lines swirling around the barrel and handle; like everything in the house, it looked expensive, and like everything, if Damien broke it, his family would most likely be paying it off for generations.

"What are you doing, Jacob?" he asked, his tone dripping with the exhaustion that comes from dealing with a spoiled brat's shenanigans. "Setting up for the game," Jacobs's shit-eating grin told Damien everything he needed to know: something dangerous was about to go down, and if he didn't stop it, then there was going to be a news story about this in the next 24 hours. In his mind's eye he could see the text flash across the screen: "Heir to oil empire murdered in cold blood by a jealous, impoverished schoolmate." Carefully getting up, Damien weighed his options before deciding to go on with Jacob till he could convince him that whatever he had planned was a bad idea. "What are we going to play then?" "Oh, nothing too complicated, my dear friend." Damien watched unnerved as Jacob opened the chamber of the pistol and put a small pellet in it. "Just some good old Russian roulette."

…

"Are you fucking insane? You do know how Russian roulette ends, right? I thought you were just a dick, but this is fully psychotic." "Oh, calm down, Damien, you worry too much; of course no one's going to die." Jacob pointed the gun at Damien and pulled the trigger, causing Damien to duck for cover as a click sound revealed that it was one of the five empty slots, much to Damien's relief. "How unfortunate; anyways, it's not a real bullet; it's a powerful drug that one of my dad's friends made." "And that's better how?" "It's this whole atomic structural thing. I'm not sure how it works exactly, but anyone hit with it can have their genetic makeup altered simply by the thoughts of the closest person, that isn't themselves, of course." Jacob proceeded to point the gun to his skull before shooting again, another harmless click. "See, I'm playing fair." "Jacob, that is not the point; I don't want to play at all." Damien was confused how Jacob was so nonchalant about this whole thing. Even if this whole atomic restructuring nonsense was real, what did he have to gain from that? "You're so unfun sometimes, but fine, I'll sweeten the deal for you: we play one game, and if I lose, then I'll make sure your parents get a nice cushy job where they will never have to go hungry again." The offer made Damien double back; it was one thing to give into Jacob's flights of fancy, a whole other when he could get his parents out of the rut they were currently in. "Fine, one game." "Great, let's sit down and continue."

Damien held the gun in shaking hands; he knew now that the bullet wasn't able to harm him, but his whole body being at the whims of Jacob was still terryfying even if it was temporary. Click, safe. Jacob, turn now and click. There are only two bullets left, and so a 50/50 chance; no turning back now. Damien's finger moved the trigger and-. Damien felt strange; he couldn't hear anything; the wind in the trees was gone; he didn't hear the gun go off, but this weird state he was in seemed to say he had been drugged; color swirled around him until finally something formed in front of him. Jacob.

"Hey there, dear friend," Jacob's smile seemed more malicious than usual. "Seems like you lose, so I'm going to enjoy the show now." Jacob leaned back; Damien's skin felt like it was crawling; he felt like spiders were crawling all over him, but as he looked to see what was causing it, he almost jumped back in surprise. His skin was changing; it was growing darker. He watched as the melanin in his skin increased until he went from the olive skin tone he inherited from his mother's Italian genes to something much darker; he looked almost African. Not only that, but the calouses from working after school to help his family vanished along with all his blemishes and pimples till his skin was as clear as day, but how was that possible? Damien remembered now the drug; the closest person controlled his atomic structure, but what was Jacob doing to him? He looked up to try and address Jacob, but a punching sensation in his gut drew him to look down, seeing his clothes dissolve away and abs form; the rest of his frame was not neglected either; he continued to bulk up and even felt a couple inches added to his height till he was a goliath of a man; his feet and hands grew much larger, his face grew more chiseled, and his hair shrank back into his head.

He tried to yell at Jacob, but before he could, their faces collided as Jacob passionately kissed Damien. Only moans, slowly deepening in pitch, escaped his mouth. "God, I've been waiting so long for this. You think I'd ever be friends with your poor ass? God, no, you're my plaything now, and don't worry, it's permanent." Damien whimpered as Jacob's hand reached down, grabbing onto Damien's cock, and began to stroke slowly and methodically. Each time Damien felt more confused: where was he, why was he worried about his parents, who was he? His mind slowed as he gave into Jacob, the pleasure overwhelming his mind. His dick grew larger than it had ever been before, 4 inches, now 5, 6, till a 7-inch-long monster was left in its place. Damien's moans grew louder as he neared the end; he just wanted to cum; he didn't know who this strange man beating him off was, but he just wanted him to continue. Jacob continued to go faster and faster, until long streams of hot cum splashed across both of them. up his hand to for Damien to lick clean, which he gladly did, enjoying every taste.

2 months later

He was sitting at home, waiting for his rich boyfriend to get back. He had spent the last 2 months spending every hour he could with Jacob, but with Jacob's school, he had large amounts of time to reflect and learn how to be a good boyfriend, how to cook, clean, and do everything for Jacob. Awhile ago, two older people came around looking for their sun that shared his name, but he told them he had no clue where he had gone. His life was good, but the best part was no doubt every night when Jacob would take control; he would sometimes be pleased and sometimes give pleasure, but regardless, he knew that life would be good when he just went with what his boyfriend said, and man was life good.

[hedoublehell]

BATHROOM

Damien Haas x f!reader

Damien. You. Bathroom. Fuck it.

SMUT -- 18+ ONLY!!!

Warnings: p in v, oral (male receiving), degradation kink, praise kink, spanking, dom/sub, dom!Damien, possessive!Damien sir/master kink, public sex, unprotected sex

Tags: @pedropascallme

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The blast of the bass vibrates the building while you exit the Uber. Loiterers are huddled in a group outside of the venue, cigarette smoke filled into your lungs as you walk up to the bar. With a flick of your ID and a toothy smile the bouncer waved you in, pushing the door open with a haphazard nudge. 

Lights flashed in the small space, illuminating the crowd of fellow people attempting to escape the realities of life for a while. As your eyes flick over the space, a familiar shade of silver stands out from the rest. For a second you stay back, unable to pry your eyes off of blissfully unaware man. A silk black long sleeve is stretched across his frame, allowing for the natural contours of his biceps and shoulders to be on full display while still being covered. He’s turned to face Shayne, who’s nursing something in a small glass. Both of them have smiles plastered across their faces, eyes slightly closed as their bodies shake with laughter. Your chest tightened at the sight; he’s so beautiful, even under the harsh strobes of the night life. 

Slowly you make your way over, weaving yourself through the jiving bodies. Finally your eyes catch a glimpse of him again, your hand stretched out to reinforce the path that has opened up. After what feels like forever, your fingers grazed across his shoulder blade, announcing your arrival. Damien turns at the new pressure, his face lighting up at the realization it’s you behind him.

“You made it!” He cheered, slinging his arm around your shoulders. His bicep feathered across your bare skin, goosebumps standing in its wake. 

The others throw their glasses up in acknowledgement of your presence, their voices muddling in a slew of shouts over the music. A smile paints itself across your face as you stand there, Damien’s arm still weighing on your shoulders. In the corner of your eye you spot his eyes wandering up and down the thin red fabric draping over your frame. You know it clings to your curves in all the right ways- you made sure of that before walking out of the house- and the way Damien’s scan briefly hesitates on the plunging neckline signals that it was the right choice. The intensity in his gaze warms your body as you fight to maintain your composure. Act cool.

In direct defiance of your own orders, you turn to face him. Blue and purple lights dance off of his face, enhancing the natural highlights and shadows of his facial features. He’s looking down at you, his pupils dilated- whether from the influence or his enjoyment of the view you don’t know. 

“Hi,” you mime, eyes meeting his. 

He returns the welcome, his face falling into a smirk at the end of the syllable. You both stand there for a second, soaking in the physical contact. A level of intimacy washes over your bodies as the silk of his shirt rubs against the skin of your upper back. For a second, lust tightens your core, but quickly you push it aside. 

Damien dressed up was not something out of the ordinary, god knows how many times you’ve clubbed together, but you were never fully prepared for your body’s reaction to it. The breath in your lungs always seemed to flee at the sight of him in patterned pants and a tight shirt; they always managed to fit him perfectly, as if they were sewn onto his body. It seemed so effortless, too. His silver strands were rarely styled, often falling onto his face as the night dragged on, which caused him to have to continuously push it back, giving you a full view of how his chest expanded with the movement of his arm. Each time he did it, his eyes briefly flickered shut while his neck arched back to allow himself the right angle to mess it up. And each time you wondered if his eyes would flutter the same way while you pleased him. Nothing would beat that sight, except if he was naked as well.

As if the DJ could hear your internal dialogue, the familiar beat of your favourite song began to pump throughout the club. Reality came crashing back while excitement lurched through your body, making you untangle yourself from Damien and immediately taking off to the dance floor. The heat of movement enveloped you as you pushed further into the crowd, looking for the perfect place to set up. A relatively empty space in the far corner of the floor called out to you, and you eagerly filled it up. Progressively, the rhythm of the song embedded itself inside you, your heartbeat becoming one with the bass as you began to let yourself go. Subconsciously your hips swayed, the red fabric of your dress remaining glued to the curve of your ass as you moved it to the beat. Your eyes close slightly as you fully let yourself go, the music blasting over any thought that attempts to cross your mind.

After the week you had, this is what you needed– a dressed up Damien and a dancefloor. 

Looking up, you turn your attention back to where you left your fellow castmates. Everyone has scattered throughout the building, except for Damien, who is standing there, his eyes glued to the lower half of your body. Even through the flickering lights and the dense crowd, you could see the paleness in his knuckles clenching the bottle. He must be really worried about someone knocking it out of his hand.

As you turn to look away, his eyes interlock with yours. An unfamiliar sparkle briefly glints in Damien’s eyes before he blinks it away, replacing it with the gentle sheen that you’re used to. With a wink you turn back around, letting the music absorb you once again while erasing the thoughts of Damien. There was no point in pining over a man that only sees you as a friend, especially while in a crowd of people looking to head home with someone. It wouldn’t be the first time you tried to fuck away your feelings for him.

After dancing for a while, the sting of thirst introduced itself to your lips. Groaning, you weave yourself through the bodies in an attempt to relocate the bar. Once you pull yourself through the edge of the dance floor, you beeline for the illuminated granite countertop, desperate for any form of liquid. The bartender, a 30 year old man with a black mullet and aviators, eyes you as you waddled up, sensing the need radiating off of you.

“What can I get you?” He asked once you reached him.

“A vodka redbull please.” You pant, hand already searching in your purse for your loose credit card. 

Before you manage to fish it out, an arm slithers out behind you and gently taps a credit card to the machine. 

“Consider it a gift,” the unfamiliar voice whispers, “or maybe an offering.” 

A lightning bolt struck your core as weight pressed into your back. With your newly acquired drink in hand, you shift your body to face the gifter.

He’s handsome– scruffy black hair frames his face, ending where his stubble begins. Shoulders are broad, emphasized by the tightness of his white tee. A smirk is painted across his face, eyes glossy with alcohol. Drunken excitement rekindles the fire in your heat as you absorb every inch of the man in front of you. While he’s not Damien, the confidence radiating from him voids that almost instantly. Maybe he will be it, the man that finally fucks your thirst for Damien out of you. Maybe this time you won’t have to bite your lip in an attempt to not whine Damien’s name while your cunt pulsates around another man’s cock. Shit, you haven’t even seen Damien in at least an hour, so who cares anymore? Might as well get some use out of your new dress.

“Thank you. I was getting thirsty, it’s so hot in here.” You smile, the straw of your drink taking purchase in the corner of your mouth. 

The nameless man wordlessly steps forward, closing the gap between you two. Whiffs of smirnoff and berries dance around him as he leans closer, his mouth aligning with your ear. Before a word manages to escape his lips, he’s gone. 

“Hey, that’s my girlfriend! Get the fuck off of her, man!” 

 The familiar pitch of Damien’s voice vibrates your chest as he pushes the man off of you. Without another word he scurries away, leaving you and Damien. The flashing lights overhead emphasize the heaving in his chest, highlighting the subtle definition found in his pecs with each breath. Confusion knots your stomach as you look up at him. 

“What the hell, Damien? Since when am I your girlfriend?” Mindlessly, you throw your hands against his shoulders in an attempt to shove him away. “You barely speak to me all night, or any night out for that matter, and suddenly you think you have claim over me? That’s not how this works.” 

His fingers lock around your wrists, the chipped nail polish on his fingers scratching the surface of your inner forearm. A moan threatens to escape your lips at the sudden contact, but the anger in your belly shrivels it up before it manages to leave.

“I can’t do this anymore.” An unknown gleam flickers in his eyes as he gazes down at you, unflinching.

“Do what?” You mutter, an exasperated sigh following the last syllable.

“I can’t go around anymore pretending that I’m okay with you going home with all these different guys. I mean- well- I am, because you are your own person and it's your choice, but that's besides the point. I want you. So. Fucking. Badly. If anyone is taking you home tonight while you’re in that fucking little tight red dress, it’s me. Got it?” By the time he’s done his lips are ghosting your ear, the warmth of his breath sliding down your neck. 

Desire slicks your thighs almost immediately as his words reverberate through your mind. All other noise muffles as it plays over and over as you just stare at him, mouth slightly agape. The warmth of his hands around your wrists becomes the only thing tethering you to reality as his words sink in. Damien. Wants. You. 

Suddenly, his hands move from your arms to your waist, coldness lingering where his digits used to be. You feel the subtle weight of each of his fingers through the thin fabric. His fingers gently flex around your waist, bringing you to your feet. Once again, his face lowers down to your ear.

“Now show me those dance moves you were doing earlier.”

Weaving through the sea of bodies, you find yourself in the same spot that you claimed earlier. Damien trails behind you, his hand tucked tightly in yours. With a quick turn on your heels, your gaze meets his. A wave of lust washes over you as your eyes remain fixed on his darkened pupils. Slowly, your hips begin to sway to the beat of the music. Damien remains planted, fixated on the way the strobe lights reflect off of the glitter buried in the red fabric. 

Without a second thought your hand extends to his, forcing him out of his daze.

“Who said you just had to watch, Damien?” You whisper into his ear, letting your breath linger on his neck.

Immediately his body is against yours, his chest warming your bare back. The soft silk of his shirt brushes against your skin as his hands trail down to your hips, his fingers digging into your plush flesh. A moan falls from your lips as you subconsciously push your ass into his crotch, the bulge of his cock pressing against the curve of your cheeks. With each flick of your hips, a sharp groan escapes the man behind you. Ignoring the growing slickness between your thighs, you continue to dance against him, only focusing on the way his body responds to yours.

Through your peripheral, you catch a glance of Damien. His silver hair is unruly, strands sticking up in every direction as if he’s been pushing it up every few seconds. His eyelids are slightly closed, and pupils are glossed over with lust as he continues to rock against you. If only clothes weren’t in the way. 

Sharply, you turn to face him. With a blink, the lust in his eyes is replaced with confusion as his posture fixes itself. Your hand gently curls around his wrist, letting your fingers linger as you step into the space between you. Your free arm slithers around his neck, bringing his face down to yours.

“Kiss. Me.” It comes out more as a plea than a request, but even with the bone-vibrating music blaring around you Damien manages to understand.

His lips ram into yours, a faint taste of Coca Cola coating your tongue as it works its way into his mouth. Moans spill out from both of you as desire takes over. His body begins to grind into yours as his hands find their way into your hair, interlacing his fingers into your locks. Your pussy pulsates as his cock brushes against your inner thigh with each swipe of his hips. Need soaks your panties, engulfs your thoughts. The only thing that matters right now is Damien, and how his hands feel better than any of the times you pretended yours were his. 

His teeth tug on your lip, gently bringing it down before letting it go to reconnect it to his. His fingers ghost along your sides before finding purchase on your ass, giving it a hearty squeeze as his hips gently buck into yours. 

“Jesus,” he whimpers as he continues to grind against you, “I have been wanting you for an ungodly amount of time.” 

“Then have me, baby. I’m all yours.” You coo, littering kisses down his neck. 

Suddenly he pushes you off him, immediately interlacing your hand in his. He begins to drag you behind him as he zigzags off the dance floor. Mindlessly you follow, lust overriding any questions you may have as to where he’s taking you. A neon sign reading ‘BATHROOMS’ flashes above the narrow hallway. Damien continues down the corridor of single-person bathrooms, only stopping at the last one on the right. With a kick, the door squeaks open, and he pulls you in behind him. A subtle click of the lock causes reality to come crashing in.

Damien. You. Bathroom. 

Fuck it.

Immediately, you find yourself pinned to the door. Damien’s forearms frame your face as he locks his gaze with yours. The weight of his presence overwhelms your senses, sending flames to your core. Hungrily, his lips connect to yours. The sloppy, open kisses become littered with moans as his right hand finds its way to your breast, gently cupping it. Palming your tit, his index and thumb catch your nipple. Slowly, he twists it between his two digits, it stiffening with his repetitive movements. 

In response, your hands wander to his waist, landing at the hem of his silk shirt. Even under the dim lighting the fabric highlights the peaks and valleys of Damien’s mass. A gentle grunt escapes with your exhale as your pinkie drags along the exposed skin between his plaid pants and shirt. The ripple of his muscles dances against the tip of your finger as his hips shift lower, causing your digit to slip underneath his waistband.

“Fuck,” Damien breaks his lips from yours, his mouth now seeking purchase on your neck, “you’re going to undo me, slut.” 

The bulge of his stiffening cock brushes against your exposed thigh, sending shockwaves to your clit. No longer did you have to rely on other men to fuck Damien’s name off your lips, or use a vibrator to seek out pleasure with images of him flashing through your mind. This was the real thing, he was the real thing. 

“Let me undo you, please.” You subconsciously whine aloud, both hands now hooked on his waistband as his tongue explores the nape of your neck. 

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Damien grunts, “show me what I know you can do.”

Before he gets out the last syllable, you're on your knees, desperately tugging at his underwear and pants. With a huff, they fall down to his feet. His cock springs up in freedom, the pink tip gleaming with pre-cum. The sight of it alone leaves your thighs slick with need, your clit pulsating with anticipation.

Gingerly, you raise your hand to his shaft, loosely taking hold of it. Glancing up at Damien, his eyes are glued to each of your movements, appetite glistening in his pupils. 

“You can do it baby, I know you can,” he coos, interlacing his digits in your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail. 

Your mouth quickly latches onto his tip, your tongue leisurely drawing circles around his slit. Your hand follows suit, unabashedly stroking his cock. Praises spill out of Damien’s mouth as you continue to work, progressively losing yourself in the sound of spit, moans, and the bass of the club music leaking through the walls. 

“S-so good, what a good whore you are.” 

In response, you swallow his cock to the base, hollowing your cheeks as it hits the back of your throat. Tears begin to swell in your waterline, threatening to spill with each second you keep him there, but you ignore them. Slavia dribbles down your chin as you gag as Damien thrusts his hips, pushing his shaft deeper. His gaze connects with yours, his eyes glossy with satisfaction as his mouth falls open, a symphony of groans slipping from between his lips. 

“Holy shi-t. Let me fuck you before I cum, princess.” He chuckles through a groan, snaking his arms underneath your armpits. 

With a gentle tug and a spin you find yourself leaning against the sink, the coldness of the porcelain seeping through your dress. You glance into the mirror, your reflection staring back as spit and tears collect at your chin. Streaks of red lipstick paint your cheeks, chin, and the tip of your nose.

“Admiring how beautiful you are after a face-fucking?” Damien growls, entering the reflection. 

“Ye-yes sir.” You whimper, eyes connecting with his in the mirror. 

“Good,” Damien’s hands slide up the curve of your ass, his thumbs collecting the fabric of your dress, “because we’ve only just started.” 

Damien slides your panties down your thighs before letting gravity do the rest of the work to get them to the floor. A soft moan rumbles from his chest as admires your dripping, bare cunt. Gingerly, he raises his index finger to your slit, letting your juices soak the tip before bringing it back to his mouth. His tongue dances along his digit, lapping up any trace of you on his skin. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, you taste so fucking good, princess.” He sighs, finger still in his mouth. 

“Now imagine how good I must feel.” You retort, jiving your ass against his bare thighs. 

His hands immediately shoot to your hips, his fingernails marking crescent moons into your flesh.

“If that’s how you want to play, whore, you could’ve just told me.” 

An unfamiliar weight presses against your lower back, its wetness sending shivers down your spine. 

“Say please.” 

You groan, pressing your thighs together in anticipation.

“P-ple..please.” You sputter, arching your back further and reconnecting your look with Damien’s in the mirror. 

Without a second to process, fullness overwhelms your senses as Damien haphazardly thrusts into you. Each centimetre of his cock stretches your cunt as thank you’s spill from your lips over and over again in tempered moans. 

“What a good whore you are for me,” he grunts, his tongue ghosting down your spine as he continues to fuck you into the sink. 

Your eyelids flutter shut as the feeling of Damien’s shaft overrides every nerve in your body. Each shove of his hips smashes your hip bones into the porcelain in front of you, sending satisfactory pain down your spine. Without a doubt there will be bruises in the morning, but they’ll only serve as proof that isn’t some alcohol-fueled sex dream. Soft whimpers roll from your mouth as you push back into Damien’s back in a desperate attempt to get more of him inside.

“Look at me while I’m fucking you.” Damien growls, his thumb and his index wrapping around your chin, shoving it upwards.

Your eyes snap open in response, your stare landing on the single piece of silver hair dangling in front of Damien’s right eye. The tip of it points directly at his lips, which are pulled into an unruly smile, his canines on full display. 

“There you go, baby. Let me see those beautiful eyes while I fuck tears into them.” A strangled moan rumbles through you in response, unable to get any proper words out as Damien completely bottoms out inside you, his balls pressing against the inside of your thighs. 

“You were so talkative before I brought you in here,” he coos, “what happened, whore? Too busy focusing on my cock to think of a sarcastic comment?” 

Another moan escapes between your quivering lips as he removes his hand from your chin, using it instead to lay a sharp smack on your bare ass. A stinging sensation ripples throughout your cheek as he thumbs the reddened skin. Tears dance along your waterline, threatening to spill over.

“My poor slut, all she can think about is dick.” He chuckles, glancing down at where you two connect. “My dick.”

“Yes s–sir,” you manage to choke out, “better than how I imagined.” 

His eyes flicker back up to yours in the reflection, a new brightness lighting his gaze. 

“You actually thought about this?” His voice flooded with shock, his dominant persona momentarily faltering. You nod frantically.

“All the time, Damien. All. The. Fucking. Time. Pretended other cocks were yours. Pretended my hands were yo–yours. H–have always wa…wanted you.” You pant, grinding your ass against him, the hair on his upper-thighs gently prick the sensitive flesh of your back-half. “None of them come close.” 

Once again, his gaze darkens. 

“Tell me more.”

Flashes of one night stands paint your memory as Damien continues to haphazardly buck his hips against your ass, your train of thought restarting with each smack of his skin against yours. 

“Tried to fill my want with other people, but nothing c-could replace you,” a whimper escapes as the tip of his cock brushes against the spongy spot in your core, “no one could fuck it out of me.” 

Wetness spills over your waterline, falling onto your cheeks as Damien repeatedly drills against your g-spot. Before tightness could grasp your core, emptiness replaced the overwhelming sensation that was him inside you. With a swift twist of your hip, Damien shoves you on top of the sink, his face mere inches from yours. This close you could see the light spattering of freckles across his cheeks from the LA sun, even in the shitty bathroom lighting. God, was he beautiful, even as a bead of sweat danced down his right eyebrow. His eyes were wild, pupils dilated with desire as he subconsciously spread your legs with his hips.

“Please let me kiss you,” he whines, his lower lip slightly jutting out.

A nod was all you were able to muster before he attacked your lips, his tongue immediately finding a home within your mouth. Traces of coke lingered as he swept it across your teeth, a moan emanating from your throat as he teased you. The now familiar weight of his cock rests against your inner thigh, causing you to sway your hips with need. 

“Can’t stand you not being inside me, sir. Plea-”

His cock reenters your heat, stretching your walls as he spears you to the hilt. 

“Don’t need to ask me twice, baby girl. Especially not while you’re in that fucking dress.” 

Damien arbitrarily sucks at the exposed skin of your neck, leaving red marks in his wake as he continues down to your chest. Gingerly he loops his tongue around your nipple, sucking at the hard flesh in beat with his sloppy thrusts. The bass of the club music echoes throughout the enclosed space, giving Damien a rhythm to follow as you progressively re-lose yourself to the feeling of him buried deep.

The subtle buzz of climate begins to knot itself in your lower stomach as your body moves in tandem with his. Slick dribbles down your bare thigh, a few rogue drops landing on the porcelain underneath your cunt. As your desire tightens around the fullness, Damien’s cock hardens even more with each subsequent slam of your pussy. You can tell he’s close, and you’re not far behind him as he pushes you further onto the sink, shifting the angle where his shaft skims along your clit with each exit and reentry. 

“D-Damien. Oh my fucking… god…!” Your back arches in response to his new pace as he becomes frantic as if he’s trying to milk every ounce of pleasure from your cunt. 

With one last snap of his hips, your mind goes blank as every part of your body but your pussy becomes numb. All you can feel is Damien, and the orgasm that has been literal years into the making. Desperately you claw into his back as you make a frenzied attempt to ride the high as long as possible. Gentle sobs escape your lips alongside moans of his name as you feel the sting of overstimulation dance along the tips of your nerves. But you couldn’t care less.

With one deep groan, heat rushes through your body as Damien reaches his own climax. His hands rest on your thighs, his fingernails leaving crescent moon divots in your flesh as he grounds himself into you. With one final thrust, his cock empties into you. 

Through your eyelashes you catch the beauty of Damien mid-orgasm. His eyelids remain half closed as he progressively slows down. Sweat dampens his hairline, his skin glistening in the bathroom fluorescents as a toothy grin spreads across his face in pleasure. It was better than you could have ever imagined.

Gently, Damien exits your opening, leaving a trail of cum in his wake as he leans over the counter to grab a wad of toilet paper. 

“If this was at home I promise the aftercare would be better.” He laughs, dabbing the milky substance off of your inner thigh. 

“Well obviously you would use 4-ply instead of 2-ply to clean up the river of potential children leaking out from me.” You quip back, reaching over your back to quickly wet the corner of one of the wads of shitty paper.

“Of course darling, you deserve nothing but the finest toilet paper for the post-sex cleanup.” 

While turning back you manage to catch his gaze. The familiar gleam has returned to his brown irises, the same one that would glisten when you would take the longer route to your desk in the morning to wave a quick hello to Damien while he walked to set, the same one that he would give you when showing you a meme that made him think of a conversation you shared two weeks prior, the same one that you could now find the word for. It was excitement. Excitement to see you, excitement to be with you, excitement that he could prove to you that you were known.

Without a second thought you leaned in, gingerly pressing your lips to his. Immediately he returned the gesture, softly placing his palm against your cheek. 

“We should get back out there before anyone notices we disappeared,” you whisper against his lips, your words just barely audible over the thumping bass of the shitty club music.

“For all they know we could have just gone home.” 

His hand weaves into your hair, his fingers gently cradling the base of your neck. 

“This was much better than just going home and pretending my hand was you.” Absent-mindedly, you lean into his touch, craving the warmth of his skin.

“I’m glad. At least you have a memory instead of a dream for next time.” 

[aimedis]

redacted asmr headcanons pt.2

-while angel loves no one more than david, no one infuriates them more than he does (could apply to all mates)

-darlin’ tries to trip david every time he walks in front of them

-lasko is so obsessed with dear, he trails after them like a lost puppy all day (even when they're at damn)

-gavin is 100% addicted to sugar (he’s always eating candy and desserts and drinking sweet drinks)

-darlin’ is insanely ticklish but the only one knows is sam because no one else would dare get that close to them (sam comes up behind them and pokes their sides while they’re not paying attention and they flinch hella hard) ((he also tickles them when they’re in bed together))

-as a teen, darlin’s parents would not let them do anything without david (because they would undoubtedly get into trouble otherwise)

-vincent acts incredibly corny ironically just because it annoys/embarrasses lovely every time

-darlin’ is a pretzel purist (obsessed with them)

-if gavin is arguing with freelancer, giving him a lollipop with make him shut up 99% of the time 

-gavin and freelancer look at each other in sync and judge other people

-asher and baabe argue once a year

-freelancer and gavin fought like one time in their first year of dating and it made freelancer cry like a lot especially to damien (he told gavin after they made up “never let me catch you making my best friend cry again, do you hear me?”) 

-david and darlin’ are 100% siblings coded

-every other week david, asher, milo, and darlin gather together somewhere and talk about their mates and other stuff (mainly their mates) ((sturniolo triplets style))

bonus +

asher: “we’re shifters, of course, our love language is biting the shit out of each other”

milo: “we’re shifters, of course, i'll fight you if you touch my lower back no matter who you are”

darlin’: “we’re shifters, just because i respect the pack hierarchy, doesn’t mean i respect the people in said hierarchy”

david: “we’re shifters, of course, as alpha, i’m legally allowed to beat the shit out of all of you for the sake of “keeping the pack in line””

[laxxarian-artcommissionsopen]

Graves Are A Gateway

After everything the Amity Park went through, they all became more used to Danny Phantom as Danny Fenton.

Now they're all just accustomed and adapted to the ghost fights and even advised Danny how to fight without destruction in the town while Danny's parents would go around building some ghost repellent in others home in case an actual evil ghost would come and also built a training room for Danny to practice his powers without destroying anything.

They discovered and enhanced Danny's powers and one of them seemed to intrigue Sam.

A power to go to a far place by using Danny's grave as his teleporter and they could build at least three graves for him at max.

And Sam suggested to build one in Gotham since Sam usually visits Gotham because of charity and all that and also in Metropolis since the hero there could help Danny if anything went wrong.

Sam doesn't know about Batman since she's more focused on the gothic themes.

The third one would be at his parents backyard so that Danny could go home quickly.

And so, it was decided.

One in Gotham.

One in Metropolis.

And one in Fenton Works.

)-(

One day, Sam went to Gotham and invited Danny and Tucker to test out the grave she built a few months back and the trio plans to meet at Wayne Enterprises. Sadly, Tucker can't go with Danny, not because he was busy, but because the grave only works for the owner which is Danny. Graves are a personal thing.

So Tucker took a plane instead and Danny went to his grave. But as he came out of his grave, he saw two men who looked like a thief, and the two were tied up by the people who were in costumes.

)-(

Robin (Damien) was right behind Danny's grave and saw the whole thing.

A ghost coming out of his half-dugged grave.

)-(

Before Danny came, Batman, Nightwing and Robin were on patrol. Nightwing is there to catch up.

And the three just saw a grave digger so they went and easily apprehended the criminals.

Nightwing read the tombstone for whose grave that they were to dig up, it was Danny Fenton's and he died quite young. Close to Damien's age.

Nightwing was mad and questioned the criminals while Batman called for the police and stuff while Robin was just right behind the grave when he saw the ghost boy coming out.