DamiRae Oneshots

Flashes

Say what you want about the upper class. They have fancy cars; don't have to wait on anything; eat and basically live luxuriously. But to a certain son of one of the most wealthiest family names in the country? Well.

Damian fucking hated it.

In Nanda Parbat, the people there did revere him, but didn't go out of their way to annoy him. He was the next in line, but he wasn't gawked at or worshiped. Not like his grandfather. He was to lead an army and free the world. Of course, that was the plan until he found out that he was systematically brainwashed and was simply a pawn for his Grandfather and Mother.

But when he returned to Gotham? Well, it wasn't something great. Media lit like a wildfire when multi-millionaire Bruce Wayne revealed that he had a son, and that Damian was legitimate. It broke inner turmoil in Wayne Tech as some of the ambitious people looking to take over were left with nothing. But that was just the tip of the iceberg. Damian was followed afterwards by paparazzi and the sorts, having his life turned inside out and be showcased for the world to see. He felt like a fish in a fishbowl. Reporters in the first week of Damian's stay at Wayne Manor were outside the front gate wishing to have a word with any of the Wayne family on who the mother was, and simply who was Damian.

"Who's the lucky woman, Mr. Wayne?"

"Mr. Todd! Where's the mother?"

"Was she a one-night stand, Mr. Grayson?"

"Mr. Drake! What's your thoughts on Mr. Wayne's kid?"

It made Damian uncomfortable, to say the least. But his Father ignored it. Didn't answer anything. Although, Grayson, Todd and Drake were the opposite. Rather than ignoring the question, they'd simply give looks and glares at the numerous reporters.

Turns out, they have good bat-glares.

Fortunately, for the reporters sake, they never once asked Alfred. When he was out tending the garden none dared shout for his attention. It left Damian sort of confused, in a sense. He walked up to Grayson and asked him. They weren't on the best of terms after Damian and him fought the first time they met, but things were slowly getting better.

Grayson snorted. "Oh, there's a reeeeeal good reason why they don't go up to Al. Right, Jay?" Todd was eating a sandwich, and after swallowing his bite laughed ruefully. Damian cocked an eyebrow, curious of the reactions. Jason looked down to him and shook his head. "Speak softly and carry a big stick. Or in Alfred's case, carry a twelve gauge shotgun."

Time went on, and the media died down.

That was, until recently.

Damian was walking besides Raven down a street in Jump City; hands holding and fingers intwined. The cold December month was chilly, but beautiful.

Thankfully, criminal activity was at an all time low — criminals get ready to celebrate Christmas, apparently — and Damian suggested that the two of them go out for a stroll, given that the two would spend the holidays at Wayne Manor and wouldn't have enough alone time. They were both extremely busy, and never had the time to be, well, teenagers. Raven wore black winter boots and a purple long coat that met at her knees, with woolen gloves and a festive pom-pom winter hat. They were early gifts from Kori, and Raven accepted them — despite thinking that she looked dorky.

But to Damian? Well. No words in his English nor Arabic languages could describe her beauty. Her rosy cheeks from the cold and amethyst eyes were breathtaking — she was just... amazing. Everything about her could make Aphrodite make a run for her money. Honestly, he thanked whatever higher power or fate that brought the two broken souls together to mend. He smiled at the grayly lit sky, breathing deeply. He wore gray winter boots and a black winter jacket with a red scarf around his neck, with a black beanie on his head. Gifted by Jason, who swore he could pull off a beanie. "Demon spawn, everyone in the family can pull it off. Just shut up and wear it." And Damian did.