Devastation (Older Damian Wayne) Part 1

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Part 1

Warnings: She/Her pronouns, very angsty, violence

I knew the risks coming into this relationship. Even before it all, I understood that complications would arise at some point. That one fatal meeting is what decided my circumstances. I wasn't strong. Not like him.

About ten days ago I had an encounter. She wanted me to meet her at an art gallery in Gotham. She didn't want me to tell anyone, and if I did she was going to hurt someone I love. Damian. Her name was Ivy.

I had been instructed to arrive at the Gotham Fine Arts Studio after lunch at four pm on Saturday. I was to stand in front of the piece called "Devastation", and wait for her to arrive next to me.

That day I could barely eat, Damian had taken notice while we were at lunch together before my meeting with Ivy.

"Is there something wrong, (F/N)?" He looked up from his coffee. His piercing green eyes looking at my expression with concern. He noticed how stiff I looked.

"Uh, I'm just anxious is all." I tried to smile, and loosen up my shoulders. Reaching for my water to take a sip. "I mean, I do have an interview later today."

"So long as that is all it is, beloved." He offered me a gentle smile, with some doubt in his beautiful green eyes.

I tried my best to make up an excuse. He didn't seem too confident in my response, but he didn't want to talk anymore about it.

That lunch was a horribly anxious wait, but it was nothing compared to waiting for Ivy to actually arrive at the Art exhibit. I stood there staring at this dreadful painting of a woman. She was bent over sitting in a chair. The most saddening and painful expression on her face. The colors were dreary and bland, but that only emphasised the distress on the womans face. The small card underneath the painting read "Devastation" by William Carter.

Suddenly someone moved next to me.

I seized up, was this her? Was this Ivy? I couldn't even look at the person. I clenched my fists together, and started to slowly shuffle my feet away.

"I hate this painting." It was a man's voice.

I looked at him, he was a tall lanky man with slicked back hair, and a turtleneck. I just stared at him, and let out a breath of relief. It wasn't Ivy.

"Do you hate it?" He asked me this time. I gave him another confused look. "Well, I just assumed you had an issue with it, since you've been standing here staring at it for almost twenty minutes." He chuckled a little.

"Well it's not that I don't dislike it, it's just that maybe it doesn't sit well with me." I tried to give him a reply he wanted to hear so that maybe he would leave me alone.

"Yes, I feel that way too." We stood in awkward silence for a moment longer, and then he turned to me, and whispered in my ear. "Are you (F/N)?"

I felt anxiety strike through my body. I flinched, and silently nodded to him.

"This way ma'am." He waved a hand and directed me to a back door. He held it open, and closed it behind me. Leaving me alone. I was so afraid. I wandered around the room to it's only furniture. A blue love seat in front of a small metal coffee table. I walked around the love seat, touching its soft velvet fabric.

"You didn't think I was going to appear in public, did you?" Her voice was sharp and clear. A specific suave nature to her tone. Like she knew she was in control, and she was loving it.

"W-What do you want from me?" I turned around quickly at the sound of her voice, and saw her beautiful glowing red hair. Her emerald clothing was casual but by no means subtle. She slowly walked towards me, getting so close that I could smell a pungent floral scent coming off of her. She was alluring yet dangerous. Like a rose.

"Be patient Doll, and I'll tell you." She was almost flirtatious towards me. "Sit."

I slowly sat down, and she continued to prowl around me.

"Now, I've asked you to meet me here today because you have access to something I want. Something that the rich playboy Bruce Wayne has in his manor. And word says that you have a very close relationship with Old Brucie's esteemed son, Damian." Her smile was full of venom. "I know you care for him, and you wouldn't want anything to happen to him. Now would you."

"No, but I-"

"Hey! What did I say! Be patient!" She snapped at me, very quickly coming face to face with me. She gripped my jaw in her slender fingers, and roughly pushed my face away. "I want you to retrieve something called the Jewels Key. Old Brucie has it because the mayor was trying to keep it hidden. Some friends of mine told me were it is, so I'm going to take it."

She moved to sit on the coffee table and faced me.

"My only issue is that it'd be a hassle to get it myself, and besides controlling a little Doll like you is so much more fun." She smiled, and her green eyes glimmered with mischief.

My legs were shaking and my palms were clammy. It was hard to breathe and I wanted to throw up. Ivy was going to make me steal from Bruce, steal from Damian, and lie to both of them. Needless to say I wasn't feeling too confident.

"Ivy, I'm not sure if I can even do this. After all I'm only-"

"Well, you're going to have too! Because you know what will happen if you don't!" She stood up, and her eyes started to glow with rage. "If you don't I'm going to take that spoiled brat, and skewer him with one of these." She then protruded a very violent and very sharp plant root from the concrete floor. It cracked the whole floor and was stained a tint of red. I felt like I wanted to throw up. Or cry, or scream. I needed Damian. I needed him to swoop in and save me. But I knew he wouldn't.

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