I Think You're Holding The Heart Of Mine(Part Eleven)
warnings: smut, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, proposal, Gojo and the students spy on the proposal
word count: 1.8k
pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader
summary: Nanami and you get a night off after a few months of working hard, and even though Gojo and the students are spying on you, Kento proposes to you!
a/n: One of the last chapters!!
taglist: @beneathstarryskies @sparklynightm4re. @seireiteihellbutterfly
Masterlist
“Wait, are you suggesting what I think you are?” Kugisaki asks Megumi, who’s sitting in front of her.
Itadori cocks an eyebrow, “Uh…can you repeat your idea?”
The black-haired teen sighs. “We should plan a date for our sensei. Not Gojo, but you know…”
Since you and Nanami had returned from your mission, everyone got to see just how happier you two were. You both returned to being the cutesy couple that everyone had thought you were previously.
Things were a little more passionate. Kento still treated you as his work wife. Peeling oranges for you as a snack, bringing you lunch and coffee when you need it most, giving you a shoulder rub. You enjoyed teasing him lightly, making jokes with him, and returning the shoulder rubs.
But there was something different. You two had found a deep love and understanding. Truly, your relationship sparked even more than it ever had. And the teens had picked up on that rather quickly. Fushiguro had noticed just how happier Nanami-sensei seemed to be. Even around Gojo-sensei, Nanami was okay with dealing with the nonsense that came from the white-haired sorcerer.
That’s when Fushiguro had finally concluded that you and Nanami must have patched things up. He can see the pep in your step, and the way that Nanami seems to have mellowed out quite a bit. So he thinks about how he can get you two even closer.
It’s been quite a few weeks since the mission, and you and Kento have been closer than before. He spends time at your place, and you spend nights at his. You two make love every second you can, but you’ve both been quite busy nevertheless. Finding time to be intimate and dating can be difficult.
“Fushiguro, you think that Nanami-sensei wants to propose to her?” Itadori asks, his eyes wide.
Megumi shrugs, “Look, who knows. They have been close since they were our age.”
Kugisaki coos, “That’s so cute! A childhood romance! Oh I bet they’d make cute babies.”
Gojo pops his head into the room, his eyes alight with curiosity despite being covered. He had heard just a little bit of the conversation his students were having, but he knew he could easily help them.
“Did you say you think Nanami is going to propose to usagi-chan?!” Satoru asks them, sitting on one of the chairs.
Fushiguro sighs, “I don’t know. It seems like it could happen. I think maybe he’s ready to make that commitment with her.”
Nobara sighs dreamily, “This is too cute! Imagine if they really got married!”
Itadori rubs his chin, “I already thought they were married…”
Gojo claps his hands together, an idea forming inside his mind. He knows it’s going to require a lot of finessing, and a little bit of luck. But regardless, even if this plan doesn’t go exactly as planned, it should still be good.
“Gather round, youngsters. I have a good idea.”
All three of his students look at themselves for a moment, unsure of how to even respond. But then they realize that maybe Gojo-sensei will have an actual good idea for once.
“Okay so I’m thinking…”
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
For the first time in two months, you and Nanami finally have a night off. You don’t know how you managed to do this, but you were both super giddy about it. Kento decided to make dinner reservations for the both of you, though strangely enough Gojo had surprised him with some already made for both of you.
“It’s my thank you to both of you. You both work so hard. Go have fun,”
Kento was skeptical about the whole ordeal, but for once he decided to let it go. He decided to just enjoy the little gift that was bestowed on you both.
“Get ready for seven, love.” Kento whispers in your ear.
You shiver, “I will. I’ll be all dolled up for you.”
And you weren’t lying. When he picks you up, his eyes widen and his cheeks redden. You were the epitome of beauty and loveliness. If Kento thought he couldn’t fall deeper for you, he was sorely wrong. He takes your hand in his as he guides you to the car.
“How beautiful you are,” he says as he helps you buckle in. Then he kisses you, “You put the stars to shame.”
You blush and look down, “That’s much too sweet.”
He gets into the driver’s seat, the smell of your perfume invading his senses. He has a bit of a hard time focusing on the road as you’re just a vision of heaven. Eventually, you two make it at the restaurant that Gojo had booked a seat for you both.
Once inside the restaurant and brought to your seats, you realized just how fancy this restaurant is. The lighting is low and dim, but just the perfect ambiance for couples. There was light romantic music playing in the background and Nanami decided to order a bottle of champagne.
“This is nice, isn’t it?” You ask as you reach over to take his hand in yours.
Nanami caresses your fingers, “It’s truly a blessing.”
You two fall into a comfortable chatter. It goes from childhood memories, to what’s going on at work and how the training of the teens is going, all the way to current events in the world. Everything feels so natural and relaxing. Then you watch as Nanami tenses up.
“Ken, honey…what’s the matter?”
Kento knew this was all too good to be true. Fanciest restaurant in town for you and him, that was too good to be true. At one of the booths nearby, he sees Itadori’s pink hair peeking up. Then the young man turns around and when he sees his mentor looking right at him, he’s quick to turn around. Nanami spots the whole group. Fushiguro, Gojo, Kugisaki and Itadori.
“It’s nothing,” but Nanami still feels tense.
You try to calm him down with more champagne. This was supposed to be a happy night. Kento had been planning on proposing to you, but when this opportunity fell into your laps, Kento realized it could be the perfect time to do so.
He then realizes that everyone is here to make sure he does this. They are making sure things go off without a hitch. No hiccups, no errors. Kento sighs as he tries to reason with himself. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world, as long as they didn’t interrupt.
“Darling,” Kento takes your hands across the table. “I have to tell you just how much I love you.”
Your eyes sparkle, “I love you too, Ken.”
His eyes are so dark with love right now. There’s a trace of lust in them too, but it’s all genuine affection for you. He brings one of your hands up to his lips and presses kisses to your knuckles.
“We’ve been so close since we were younger…and then I had to go and leave you. That was my biggest mistake,”
You hush him softly, “We both had things we had to work through.”
“I’m just so happy I can have you in my life again. When we both came back to work at Jujutsu Tech, it was one of the happiest days of my life.”
“Quit pushing, Itadori-kun!” Fushiguro whines, pushing the teen over.
“W-wait! I didn’t mean to push! I just adjusted my seating.”
Your eyes snap up to see the two students. Your eyes widened. Was this really happening right now? Kento’s eyes cloud over with stress and annoyance. Then you couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“Why are they here?” You ask, cocking your head to the side so cutely.
Kento shrugs, “Wish I knew. I think this was a plan concocted by Gojo. He knew that I’d be—”
But then he stops himself. He was about to reveal his secret. You look at your lover even more confused than before.
“Did he do it?! What did she say!?” Nobara asks, her eyes focused on the couple at the booth.
“I don’t think he did it. Sensei, can you hear?” Itadori asks.
Then it dawns on you and Nanami. Gojo is with the teens as well. He’s the one who orchestrated the whole affair. Kento looks like he’s about to lose his cool, but then he turns his attention to you.
“Nevermind anyone else. It’s just me and you. It’s always going to be that way, my darling.”
Then he pulls something from his pocket. He opens the little velvet box and your eyes widen. Your hands are shaking as Kento slides the box towards you.
“Will you be my bride? You’d make me the happiest man in the world.”
His words hang in the air as you try to calm yourself. You know you want to say yes and accept, but you’re overwhelmed with emotion.
“Will you be my real wife and not just my work wife?”
“Did it happen?! Did he ask her?!”
You look right at the group and your eyes tell them everything they need to know. You’re tearing up, unable to speak. Finally, you nod at Nanami.
“Yes, yes I’ll be your bride!”
Nanami comes over to your side of the booth, cupping your face in his hands. He kisses you over and over again before he slides the beautiful diamond ring on your finger.
“I couldn’t be happier.”
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
Kento holds you so close as he pumps into you. Your fingers are intertwined with one hand. He keeps looking at the beautiful diamond on your finger. You were going to be his wife.
“Fuck—I…oh god, I love you.” He whimpers as he stills himself.
He’s buried so deep inside of you. For the first time in so long, he knows that he finally has you right where he needs you. His hands cup your face, caressing your cheeks so gently. Kento kisses you passionately and romantically, his own eyes filling up with tears.
“I will always love you,” he rubs his nose against yours. You feel one of his tears falling onto your cheek. “I will always keep you safe.”
Your legs wrap around him, pushing him in even deeper. Both of you moan loudly, holding onto each other even tighter. Your kisses turn more heated and hungrier as Kento begins to fuck you a little harder.
“I want a family with you,” he moans hoarsely. “Want to have a little baby with you.”
You gasp a little, your walls fluttering around his girth. Your juices dribble all over his shaft, making a small puddle underneath you. Kento growls in your ear.
“I’m going to get you pregnant.”
His hands caress your sides, making sure you feel so loved. He kisses you fiercely, his tongue tangling with yours. His thrusts are erratic, his hips slamming against yours.
“I’m going to fill you up. Going to get you pregnant, honey.”
You cry out as your orgasm hits you hard, leaving you trembling and moaning his name like a desperate prayer. Kento is pulled into his peak as well, grunting and growling how you belong to him. His thick seed fills your cunt so much, it’s already dripping out.
He kisses you hungrily, “More. Let’s do it some more. I need to impregnate you now.”
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Okay I got some sleep- here’s pt. 2 of my nightmare:
——
They spoke to each other as they moved, the surroundings that had egregiously attacked the group of heroes earlier easily parted way for his sister.
‘How has everything been, habibi?’
They talked to each other in a language known only to them. The rest of the Justice League team, the members of this mission: Batman, Flash, Superman, and Zatanna did not understand the signs, a feat worthy of his sister.
‘Alright. They are not bad. I like it here.’ He told her, eyes not quite wary but fear of disappointing her running through his small frame apparent all the same. ‘I would… like to stay.’
She ruffled his hair once more, wistfulness growing in her heart. How her little brother had grown. It seemed like yesterday she held him as a babe, swaddled in even more opulent green and gold silks than her own clothing. Now, he stood in front of her, daring to express his own thoughts with a domino over his face and strength of free will in his eyes. ‘That is good. I am glad you are happy.’
Batman lurched forward to stop her from touching Damian, only to freeze as his son accepted the touch without a hint of resistance. Even Dick couldn’t get that reaction, not without some grumbling and scowling. Who was this…?
The rest of team agreed to wait and watch. Part of it was strategy. Most of it was the wonder of a such Bat-like Robin being so open with someone.
‘Have you been here before?’ Damian, relaxed as she all but gave him her blessing to stay with father, peered at the local fauna as it bowed away from her sister. She shrugged, his katana sheathed on her back. She was at ease with it as he was with her blade, the training they did to get there unwavering despite the time they spent apart.
‘Sometimes. The tower we’re headed to, I often go there to relieve stress by training with the monsters there. They like to… attack everything that moves.’
Something told Damian it was more of a one sided massacre on his sister’s part.
‘Why would the magician hide there?’
‘It would serve adequately as a natural barrier, should he have a safe space put there ahead of time.’ His sister tilted her head, masked face still in the way he knew meant that she was thinking. Her hands moved. ‘Perhaps it was Grorgiantue that attacked you. He often goes there to experiment with alchemy and demonic remains. He often wears a maroon headband.’
“That’s him.” Damian confirmed.
“Are you going to clue us into what you’re saying, you two?” The Flash zoomed around the pair, skidding to a stop in front of them. Damian’s sister simply stepped around him, slicing apart a thorn bush that attacked when it got startled by the Flash’s speed. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as Robin scowled at him and the unknown ally spared him one quick, neutral glance of displeasure.
“No. Do not ask again, you eavesdropper.” Damian curtly replied, surly Robin mask back up.
“Robin.” Father reprimanded. Damian acknowledged it, but did not offer an apology. His sister remained silent and watching.
She’s relying on him to navigate these allies, Damian realized. His shoulders went back at the show of trust. He does not acquiesce to Father’s silent command. Had it been Richard… perhaps.
“Ouch, but still, if your… friend knows what’s up ahead, it’s be good to let us know.”
“We do need to take care of this as fast as possible, Robin. And we’re not the best team against magic.” Superman hovered. He would have gone and scouted ahead, but magical planes always had nasty surprises that he found extremely hard to escape.
“Speak for yourself,” Zatanna joked. Regardless, she looked askance at Damian’s sister.
Damian scowled and opened his mouth. His sister placed a hand on his shoulder and Damian sighed, readying himself to act as a translator. He knew she could sign in practically every standard sign language there was, damn it. She’s lucky he loved her enough to be a translator when she’s unwilling to socialize.
——
“Your sword,” Damian tried to hand her sword back. Her little brother, for a genius, was an idiot. She huffed, pushing the sword back.
‘Keep it. How will you cut through a magical tower without a magical sword?’ She signed to him, emphasizing her amusement.
“What about you?”
‘I must report back. I am... a bit late. I’ll see you later, habibi.’ She tapped her hand four times. A reminder that she cared about him. Before she disappeared through a swirling portal of mist grey and acrid blue, she saw him repeat the sign.
Behind her mask, she smiled.
——
“Who was that, Robin?”
Robin stared up at Batman. Damian Wayne stared up at his father.
“She... protected me.”
Not quite an answer. But it was an olive branch, to tell him who she was to Damian himself, but not who she truly was in relations to Damian.
“That’s it?”
“That is all you’re getting.” He replied, hands tightening around the hilt of his sister’s sword. Her magic hummed beneath his fingertips, the feeling of indescribable violence softening to a sense of protectiveness the moment the sword felt his presence. Damian respected Father. He might even love him. But Damian loved his sister first, and he would not betray her trust.
A new file is added to the database. Nightwing gets an update. When a familiar masked face pops up, Dick Grayson sped out of Bludhaven to interrogate his littlest brother.
And so the wheels turned.
——
“Tell me, granddaughter, what it is you truly think of me.”
Despite the conversational tone, she knew it was an order. The scars on her back burned, a reminder of another rebellion and the cost of failure.
There were many, many ways she could answer. All of them unpleasant. Yet, she must be pleasant. He must hear how she’d been broken, or else he’d keep trying to break her.
She tilted her head down, so he would not glimpse the hatred brewing in her eyes.
“I respect you, grandfather.” Because she did respect his ability to bend her at his will, for all that she hated him. It took a special kind of scum to be so cruel to one own blood. “I wish to obey your every order.” Because if she didn’t, pain would follow. But that wish was a temporary one, only in effect until she managed to kill him and come out on top.
Ra’s laughed, a warm and rich sound. Hollow, because he loved none but himself and so only reserved warmth for his own flattery. It sounded like the sharpening of a blade and it felt like balancing on a precipice. On one side, an eternity of torture. On the other, the pain of those she loved. Damian... and maybe, just a little, Talia herself.
"Do you love me, granddaughter?" He crooned, mocking and cruel, in a way one might ask a jilted lover. The reincarnation held her breath and answered. She will not lie. She can not lie, not to him. He had gouged the order into her tongue with magic and brutality. And so, she will not lie.
"No, grandfather. But I do not dislike you." The reincarnation said, soft as velvet. It was true, because what she felt for Ra's al Ghul was the cold, pervasive hatred. "I respect you."
"I see I've managed to beat some of that foolish sentimentality out of you," he said, taking a sip of his wine. Oh, how she wished she could slip poison in his cup. How she wished to make him choke on his own words, his own blood. But she could not. Not. Yet. "Alas, I can not undo the magic. I suspect you'll be serving at my feet for... quite a long time more."
She snapped her mouth closed, phantom rage hovering between her teeth. The world swirled around her, greens and purples, and the revolting touch of his hands on her.
No, she will bide her time.
She knelt, the motion familiar, on plush carpet that she could not appreciate. Luxurious cloth rustled in front of her.
And when her time comes, she will revel in Ra's al Ghul's agonizing death.
——
"Damian, you have to tell me who that is!"
Damian could be stubborn at times, he knew that. He worked with him on it. Damian was as much, if not more, Dick's Robin as he was Bruce's Robin. So why...?
"And for what reason do you wish to know her identity, Richard?"
Dick paused. He couldn't. He couldn't tell him. No one knew, except for that masked person. It happened so long ago- not long enough- and Dick could not wash the taint, could not wash the trauma from his brain, his heart. Whispers that sounded like Catalina surrounded him when he thought of that rainy night, telling him how disgusted his family would be, if they knew. Those things went away, now that he's pulled up the file on the batcomputer. The whispers fade a bit as he looked upon the masked face of the person who saved him. Just in time.
"For your safety!"
Damian crossed his arms, a look that spoke of an unbending unwillingness present in his eyes. Dick knew then that Damian would not tell him. "I will never be in danger if it's her on the other side of the blade."
"Come on, Damian, I won't tell B. Promise. Don't you trust me?"
Damian's face softened, and for a second, Dick had thought that he'd managed it. "I do... trust you." Damian struggled to say. "That is hardly ever in question, you imbecile. But to tell you would mean betrayal. And I will not betray her trust. Especially not for your personal satisfaction."
Dick wondered what this masked woman did for Damian to be unhesitatingly confident in her. He wondered if his own desperation meant something he had yet been able to put into words.
"For what it's worth, Dick, I think we should trust Damian and not pry."
Dick and Damian turned to Tim in surprise. Damian, because it was an unexpected vote of confidence.
"Woah, I do not want to hear that from you, Mr. Tiny Tot Stalker McGee."
"It's called preparation!" Tim said hotly back. Then, he subsided. "She, uh, saved me once. Back then, before I was... associated with Bruce."
"What?" Dick and Damian demanded.
——
Innocuous. The worst and best things always happened on innocuous days.
The beginning of her slavery began on a regular, if painful, sunny day.
The beginning of her freedom began on a regular, if painful, cloudy one.
She'd have to thank the little photographer later, she decided. His work all but forced her grandfather to rely on a handful of backup Lazarus pools only he, mother, and herself knew about. She stared at the green pools as her grandfather stripped to his waist to step in.
"Guard me," he commanded her as he stepped towards the pool. The sting of the command settled familiarly around her neck. “Once I am done, you will depart to force Damian or the detective back to Nanda Parbat. By any means necessary.”
It was his first time ordering her to hurt her brothers, past physical pain disguised as training.
His first mistake today.
That's the thing with her grandfather, she mused as she silently unsheathed Damian's sword. He was so complacent, that he could fathom her betrayal.
His second mistake. His last mistake.
Then again, it was her who lulled him into it, with the shows of loyalty and seemingly willing obedience outside of her magical collar's commands.
After all, he had commanded her to guard him. From outside threats, surely, but he hadn't commanded her to guard him from herself.
"You-!" He coughed as her- Damian's- blade slid in between his ribs and straight towards the other side. It missed his heart by a hair's breadth, Ra's having moved the moment he felt the blade. Truly, it was hard to beat a near-immortal's experience.
"Kill yourself!" He barked at her, clutching at his chest, trying to stumble towards the pool.
To kill herself, she had to remove the blade lodged in his chest. The magic urged her to follow his commands immediately with searing pain. But she's had over two decades to endure and adjust to it, to grit her teeth and learn how to move with the torture of being alive. So she follows it just to dislodge the blade. The reincarnation then, with the magic trying to break her, cripples Ra’s with two blows.
He collapsed, screaming bloody murder and slurs at her. Before he could say another command, she stabbed down and to the side, cutting deep enough to cut his voice box and spill his life-blood, his unceasingly irritating throat, over the craggy rocks surrounding the pool.
Then, she slit her throat with a cut that was a touch too shallow to kill her right away.
"I do not dislike you," she said, the pain easing as she spoke to him. The red she's taken from others now spilled on the front of her shirt. She stared at his enraged glare, vicious glee at making him choke on his own actions. "No, I hate you."
She bent down, twisting and breaking his arms with little effort. She patted his cheeks and raked a trail of pain down his face with her metal tipped gloves. Her blood dripped onto him, blinding his eyes.
Fitting, she'd thought. "No one will come for you, grandfather. But... I do have to ask," She looked down, voice tilting in the cruel way that he'd unintentionally taught her. "Don't you love me, grandfather?"
She walked backwards until she reached the edge of the pool. She knelt once more, a mockery of every time she's knelt for him.
The reincarnation watched his blood spill, the light leave his eyes, and the way his body stilled and the way his rage was stifled like he'd smothered her voice so long ago. She memorized it, because hate was an active emotion. But she was tired, and she wanted to rest. So she watched him die and felt nothing but peace.
Then, as she felt the magic take hold and tear her soul from her body, she tipped backwards and plunged her corpse in the glowing pits that awaited her.
——
It felt like drowning.
(did y’all know cats lay on your chest?? bro i straight up couldn’t breath bc of that)
Breathless. Corrosive. Freeing.
The Pit felt like freedom.
And she’d long forgotten what that felt like.
It tasted like shit water though, and suddenly she felt bad for everyone whoever swallowed some of the water here. She’s going to need her stomach pumped out after this-
Her thoughts were washed away in a haze of green tinted fury.
——
“Habibi.”
Nightwing slid in front of Robin with a well practiced flip. Batman emerged from the shadows, followed Spoiler and Red Robin.
“Talia. What do you want?” Batman growled. Talia ignored him, an uncharacteristic action that had the vigilantes putting their guards up.
“I… you know I would not ask this of you- I would not ask you to return,” Talia said softly.
“Then don’t.” Red Robin cut in sharply, bo staff at the ready. Talia ignored him too.
“But she needs you, habibi. I can not… I can not help her.”
“Who?” Spoiler asked, curious but ready to rumble.
“What happened?” Robin stepped around Nightwing, who made an aborted movement to try to pull Robin back behind him.
“Something terrible.” Talia al Ghul closed her eyes, a sliver of vulnerability and regret showing on her face. Robin straightened, fear thudding through his heart. What happened to ukhti, he wanted to ask. But he could not, not without betraying the promise of silence he’d made to her. “I… I have failed her greatly. And she was paying the price for it, this entire time.”
“Wait, is this about the masked woman?” Nightwing asked.
“Alright,” Robin- no, Damian- stepped forward once more. His decision was made. Had been made, the moment his mother allowed the rare instance of vulnerability to come across her face. “I’ll be going back, once…”
“Of course. She would not let me keep you, habibi. She knows you are happier here.”
“Then, let’s go.”
“Robin!” His family tried to stop him but Damian slipped between and out of their reach. “Do not!”
“I’ll be back,” he declared, like he was daring his mother to say otherwise. “Try not to raze Gotham into the ground with your incompetence.”
“I’ll kill Ra’s if something happens to him.” Red Robin pointed the bo staff at Talia as she and Damian turned to leave. He stopped an alarmed Batman when he tried to lunge for Robin.
“No need,” she threw back. Damian whipped his head up at that. “He’s already dead.”
And they disappeared into a whirling purple cloud of magic.
——
Snippets of reality return to her bit, by bit. Her mother had cautiously entered the pit with her guards- worried, no doubt, by their absence- and stilled upon seeing her father’s dead body.
She laughed, and dug her hands into the bodies of the assassins she’d trained until her nails dripped with blood and pieces of organs. She felled them, one by one, until only mother was left.
She’d attacked, like a rabid dog, until the green slipped and her mother came into focus.
“I killed him,” she’d croaked out. And that was what broke her; the smooth way air wrapped her around her throat where only ripping pain had existed. Her voice came out unhindered and recklessly so, without the tinge of agony carefully picking her sentences.
“I killed him,” she repeated, and set Ra’s al Ghul’s body on fire. “I killed him.”
Her mother stared at her, hands dropping carefully to her side. “Why?”
She smiled, teeth bared and bloody- oh, she must have ripped into an assassin with her teeth, how messy- and endlessly joyful. “Because he dared to chain me- because he threatened Damian.”
She broke, and she told her mother everything. No, not everything. Just, enough. At the end, when her back is bowed with pain and heart empty, her mother knelt before her and quietly, tremblingly, apologized.
“I am sorry, habibi. I…”
The reincarnation’s made a small, wounded noise and lost herself to the green.
——
Damian trembled with rage. With grief.
With regret.
He followed mother into the caverns, mind turning and whirling with everything he’d learned in the hour that had passed since he’d left Gotham. His sister’s inclination towards magic was incredibly helpful, but Damian wished that she had never had the cause to go delving into magic like she did.
He thought it was passion.
His mother had informed him of what Grandfather had done to his ukht all these years. She told him of what his sister had sacrificed so that he remained free.
“Every time she spoke to us, to tell us that she loves us… father had made sure she paid for every word with unceasing agony.” His mother had muttered, eyes more lost than he’d ever seen it. “The magic at her neck ensured that she obeyed unquestioningly or she paid the price.”
“She is paying the price right now,” he’d snapped at her.
“Yes.”
Damian had thought ukhti’s collection of magical tomes were a sign of her interests. He thought it was passion for a subject. He had even envied how she did not have to hide her hobby like he had to with his art.
Now, he knew it wasn’t passion. No, it was desperation; a scrambling for freedom, a wish for dignity, and the fear of the same restrictions being placed on his ukht’s loved ones- him and mother.
When he entered the cave, lit up by swirling, sickly green, he saw his ukht, drenched in blood and sclera, tearing apart another group of assassins. There were ashes and the smell of burnt flesh around them.
Her eyes- green, glazed, furious- turned towards them.
His mother tensed. His ukht lunged, pitted sword aimed at his eyeball.
But if there was anything Damian knew, it was that ukhti would never hurt him.
So he stayed still.
And she stopped. Blade a centimeter from his eyes, his sister stopped.
“Damian?”
How his heart broke when she spoke, confusion in her voice that sounded as if she had been screaming for decades and nobody had heard.
As Damian’s hand wrapped around her wrist and she dropped the sword, he morbidly thought that she might have been doing that. It’s not like they heard her, after all, not until she’d freed herself with broken fingers and steel spine.
——
Bruce paced around in the cave. With the disappearance of their youngest, the entire family gathered in the cave, the night after. Except for Barbara, who had been scouring the cameras and had prior engagements, and Cass, who was on a plane back from Hong Kong, the family watched as Bruce slowly lost his mind.
“Relax, B. Look, even Dickface and Timbers aren’t worried, and you know how they get.” Jason said, kicking his feet up on the table.
“Ahem.”
Jason quickly put his feet down.
“We know nothing about this woman! She could be a danger- she could-!”
“B, if it really is about the masked woman, I think we should give Damian some trust.” Dick spoke up.
“And what if they keep Damian captive?”
“Then we go get him, Bruce. Simple.” Duke said, yawning.
Whatever Bruce would have said next was cut off by the opening of the cave’s underground entrance, with an approving beep of a recognized and authorized entrance.
Damian stalked in, hands wrapping around the hilt of his sword like he was going to cut through the next fool who tested him. His face was in a frown.
“Damian. Are you alright?” Bruce rushed towards his youngest, only to be dodged.
“I need to break something. Then, we shall talk.”
Damian headed towards the training dummies at let out his fury. He let out his heart break. Splinters of wood and cloth and ripped padding laid testament to his grief.
Then, the younger brother of the true heir to the Demon’s Head turned around to speak to his chosen family.
——
Clarity.
Her brother, her fool, dumb brother who had just stood there as she tried to gouge his eyes out, had been exactly what she needed.
She avoided his concerned eyes as she muttered calculations under her breath.
“Ukhti, what are you doing?”
“Freedom, habibi. I am… creating my freedom.”
At his confused look, she made the signs for Pit Rage. He nodded and guarded her back.
Damian was so adorable. And now, now that there’s not collar around her neck, she could say that without awaiting internal agony!
Her mouth spoke the words she’d found all those years ago, magic flaring bright white and blue as the circle she laid down on crumbling rocks shuddered.
The magic soothed her frayed mind and seeped the poison from her mind.
——
“I have a sister.” He’d told them. He turned to his father, who had a blank look on his face. “An older sister. She is yours.”
“You fucked Talia, twice?!”
A scowl. “Keep your trap shut, Todd.”
Bruce felt his world shudder to a stop.
——
Her fingers, her left hand as her right was busy scratching absently at Damian’s head, found purchase on her back and neck. The skin wasn’t so soft anymore, time and scars making for a rougher feel.
There were worse things than death. Bitter, painful things.
Loosing her freedom. Loosing her voice.
But… there were better things than life. Sweet, gentle things.
Regaining her freedom. Getting revenge. Securing her family’s safety and freedom from the grotesque thing that wore the skin of a grandfather.
Her brother, tucked safely against her side, and a mother that finally understood.
“Come to Gotham with me,” Damian had suggested. She hummed, delighting in the way the sound came out with out the ringing pain.
But one does not erase two plus decades worth of trauma in one night.
Her hands came up.
‘Not yet. Mother will think-”
“It is a good idea.”
Her gaze darted up. Her mother’s eyes… softened. Odd. No… her gaze was heavy with guilt.
“It would… do you good to be away from here, my daughter.”
Well.
It’s not like she was opposed to that, at all, but still…
‘Two weeks. I’ll tie up loose ends… and I’ll go to Gotham in two weeks, if that’s alright with you, Damian?’
“Of course.” He leaned against her, hand clutching at her shirt in a motion that she wasn’t sure was meant to comfort himself or her. “May I tell father about you?”
Ah. She hadn’t thought of that. The pit really scattered her mind. She nodded.
——
“Why… why didn’t you tell me?”
“She asked me not to.”
“And since when did you do things people ask of you, demon brat?”
Damian scowled. It did not make his next sentence any less genuine.
“Since it was ukhti that asked.”
Tim spun around on his wheel chair. “Holy shit. So the masked person was your sister. No wonder you were so….”
Protective, they all finished the rest of the sentence silently. They all sat back to contemplate that Bruce had one more kid… and that Tim had met her before Damian was even born.
“So, why were you so upset, baby bird?” Dick asked, an odd feeling of both gratefulness and mild jealousy towards Damian’s sister- his savior, because holy shit- gathering underneath his heart.
“Apparently, grandfather put her under an enslavement spell all these years.”
“Damian… say that again. I- I must have heard you wrong.”
Damian closed his eyes, hating how unsteady and fearful his father sounded. He obliged, because he knew what it felt like.
“Grandfather put her under an enslavement spell and used her to further the League’s reach.”
Damian had wondered why he had encountered his sister so often while passing by grandfather’s chambers and why she always looked tired when she goes past those ornate doors.
Now he knew.
“Does that- does that mean what I think it means?”
“Yes. She,” Damian’s hands gripped harshly on his forearms. He breathed in and out slowly. “She was… assaulted. Most likely regularly. To broker more favorable agreements. She could not refuse. The magic demanded complete obedience or risk the punishment of unbearable pain.”
Dick looked away. They had a lot in common. She saved him… but on her end, she was not saved. His hands itched to punch Ra’s al Ghul in the face.
“Fuck.” Stephanie cursed. Her eyes met Duke’s and Jason’s.
Tim’s hands stopped moving, eyes staring blankly at Damian. He should have tried harder to kill Ra’s al Ghul.
Bruce got up, trembling, and stalked over to the training dummy. They sat in silence.
“What else?” Bruce rasped. He hung his head.
“She was ordered not to speak a word.”
“But she… spoke to me.” Tim said. Damian felt an irrational flare of jealousy.
“Then it most likely caused her unimaginable pain as punishment.” Damian snapped.
“What do we have to do to free her?” Stephanie demanded.
“Nothing, Brown. She freed herself.”
“How?” Duke leaned in, expression serious. “Did Ra’s al Ghul free her before he died or something?”
“I… am not too sure of the details, but it involved killing him… and jumping into the pit.”
Jason stood up with a clatter. “She was in the pit?!
“Yes. I think… she might have died. I’m not… sure.”
Bruce closed his eyes, working on his breathing like Dinah had showed him.
“Is that why Talia came? Because you could stop her pit madness?”
“Yes. I- there-” Damian struggled to get the words out, the ball of upset sitting on his chest made it hard to breathe. “Ukhti would never hurt me. Unless it’s training, but even then, I am sure she fought against her orders to wound me.”
Dick nodded. Yeah. He would have too, if he were in her shoes.
“I… can ukhti come here to recover?”
“Of course. When?” It was at times like this when he appreciated his family’s sentimentality and ridiculously large hearts. Unhesitatingly kind, even when they should have been furious at him for keeping ukhti’s secrets.
“Two weeks.”
“Then we shall make adequate- no, better than adequate preparations. Master Damian, what were her preferences for food?”
——
She should probably prepare a gift. Multiple.
“Ukht.”
She tilted her head to show Damian she was listening.
“I am sorry.”
‘There’s nothing to be sorry for.’
“But-”
She squeezed his shoulder and forced the words to come out. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I should have noticed.”
‘I did not want you to notice. If I hid things from you, do you think you could find them so easily?’
“No, I suppose not.”
She smiled at him and tapped her hand four times. He tapped his own four times in response.
——
The dream ended there, well, no, there was actually some more nonsense about a corgi, a room full of strings and slenderman or whatever but I didn’t include that part. There’ll probably be a part three bc I kinda wanna know what happens when she comes to Gotham to recover from trauma.
The oc, relatively well adjusted: *dies*
The oc, reincarnated and got fucked over (figuratively and non consensually literally): “yes, I should go to Gotham (aka trauma central) to recover from my trauma. Sounds legit.”
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P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 14/?
STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13
You guys ever read They Both Die at the End cos this is looking a lot like that the more we go on.
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Lucifer had begun to tell them of his trip to Heaven, from what had prompted Michael to almost destroy Hell with his holy weapon to the brewing civil war.
They listened intently to every word he said, not once interrupting him again until they got the full story.
And that's what he gave them.
Well... almost all of it.
He left out the part where the Fates had prophesied his imminent death in the war. Revealing that particular information would raise more questions that Lucifer wouldn't be able to answer.
Charlie: I still don't understand. Why would they involve you, Dad? If Heaven goes to war, how does that affect us?
Satan: Despite what most might think, Heaven and Hell are not two separate entities. After the creation of humanity, it's impossible for one to exist without the other.
Lucifer: He's right. Back then, before... everything. Hell hadn't been made yet because, while yes there was darkness, there were no lower beings to corrupt. Thus no use for a pit to contain them. But then Adam and Lilith happened. Then Eve...
Mammon: So what? We're screwed?
He shook his head.
Lucifer: No. Just me.
Satan: Huh? What do you mean, just you?
Shit. What is with his mouth today?
Lucifer: ..... Michael told me that he took a look at the Fates and saw me among those on the battlefield.
Beelzebub: Excuse me?!
Satan: What the hell??
Leviathan: So it will happen down here? Because there is no way we are letting you go back up there for anything.
Belphegor: Were you also planning on keeping that to yourself? Really, Lucifer?!
Asmodeus: I don't like this.
Charlie: The Fates?
He understood their reactions; after all, this was too big of a revelation to keep quiet for this long about.
Alastor had been awfully quiet beside him, but he can't dwell on that right now nor will he call out the look of disdain the guy is giving Levi.
'Do those two know each other?'
In the end, he chose to ignore Belphegor's accusation (is it really an accusation if it's true?) in favor of answering his daughter.
Lucifer: The threads of life. Pre-written destinies of every being in existence. It might be placed in Heaven, but no one, not even Father, can change what has already been woven.
Charlie: And Archangel Michael saw yours? How?
Lucifer: I-You'll have to ask him that. I fell before the duty of guarding the Fates was passed onto me. I have limited understanding as it is.
He's digging his own grave but it's not a total lie.
Charlie: And do you trust him?
Her question throws him in a loop. Because what?
Lucifer: What?
Charlie: I can tell you have resentment for him. Do you not trust his word? Is that why you were not in a hurry to tell any of us because you think it's a trap or something?
Lucifer: Regardless of what my feelings towards Michael, I believe his words. He is not one to involve Hell in anything that can be solved within Heaven. And I want to say that I'm sorry for not telling you all the moment I got back. The only thing I can say is that I was tired and with everything that just happened in Sloth, all I wanted was to sleep. I promise that I didn't know any of that stuff you saw would happen.
Charlie: But what was that, dad?
Lucifer: My appearance might not be the only thing the ritual affected.
Lies.
Lucifer: I'm handling it.
Lies.
Lucifer: I swear it's nothing to worry about.
LIES.
He gives her a smile that he hopes is comforting enough but based on her crunched up expression, it must have came off more strained.
Charlie: Dad...
Tense silence fills the room. Lucifer's well aware no one believes him but he knows they won't try to push further. They are well acquainted with his character, after all. Cowardly but stubborn.
Satan: We'll get our forces ready then.
Lucifer: Huh?
Satan: What? Did you think we'll just sit here and let our King fight alone?
Lucifer: Look, no one else needs to be involved. I am-
Satan: -the King of Hell, are you not? And whoever threatens our King is our enemy.
Everyone let out a chorus of agreement. The Sin of Pride crumples the bedsheets in his hold. There's tears threatening to fall from his eyes in his disbelief.
How did he find people who are all so willing to fight for him? He feels a pang of guilt for he knows that regardless of what they do, he will meet his end in that war.
But how could he tell them that? Tell his family, these demons he raised, that he'll be leaving them?
A Marigold being tucked behind his ear made him look at his silent pillar. Alastor grabs a hold of his hand and plants a kiss on top of it in a manner that makes his heart flutter like a lovesick teen.
Alastor: We will do everything in our power to keep you safe, my King.
.
.
Lucifer: I believe you.
He wishes he could stop with the lies.
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Once the battlecries died down in favor of the Sins giving Alastor a weird version of a shovel talk, they hear shouts outside the room.
It kept getting closer and closer until the door bursts open revealing the rest of the hotel residents, all holding some form of weapons on them.
He would've thought they were under attack until Vaggie and Angel toss something, no someone, on the ground.
It was a face Lucifer never thought he'd be able to see again. Because he's dead. He should know because he burned the body in Hellfire himself.
On the floor, beaten and bruised, is a half-goat demon wearing a face of a dead man. It grunts and let's out an awkward laugh as it meets his eyes.
Adam: Haha..... Sup, bro.
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Apologies if that last part is weirdly cut cos I wanted Luci to say that but then I also wanted Adam to appear now.
I'd appreciate any comments or DMs left on your thoughts about everything so far! Reblogs and likes are also much appreciated <3
Have a happy weekend everyone!
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