Lost in the Void, Found in the Stars | Damian Wayne Oneshots

Rim of the Galaxy | Miles Morales

The only crossover pair I unironically ship. Like, I still like a lot of other ships too, but I am completely serious in shipping this particular pair.

Summary: Damian walks with Miles at night through Gotham. They hadn't planned to do this, but—lately—they've been running into each other after fights.

.・。.・゜✭・»»--⍟--««.・✫・゜・。.

Damian Wayne didn't quite know how he'd ended up walking alongside Miles Morales at this hour of the night. The Gotham skyline stood tall above them, dark and looming as always, but for once, it wasn't the center of his attention. Instead, it was the unusual peace that hung between the two as they strolled through the streets, the kind of peace that seemed out of place for Gotham—and for Damian.

"So, Gotham and Brooklyn," Miles said, casually bumping Damian's shoulder with his own. "Not exactly the same, but not that different, huh?"

Damian glanced over, raising an eyebrow. "To say the least."

They both laughed lightly, the sound strange but pleasant against the night air. Damian had to admit that spending time with Miles felt... different. There was an ease to it, a feeling that Damian couldn't quite place. They hadn't planned on hanging out tonight. One minute they'd been taking down a low-level villain, the next, they were walking through the streets together, completely relaxed.

Miles glanced up at the sky, his mask pulled halfway up, revealing a soft smile. "Look at that. The stars are actually visible tonight. Pretty rare for a city."

Damian followed his gaze, and for a moment, he allowed himself to take it in. The stars twinkled faintly through the Gotham smog, distant but beautiful. "Gotham does has a way of hiding anything bright," he muttered, though not bitterly. Just a fact.

They continued walking, their pace slow, unhurried. It was strange for Damian, who was used to being on high alert, to feel this... normal. Even though his senses were sharp as ever, ready to react to any danger, it felt like a rare moment of rest.

They walked past a small flower shop, its window display still lit up despite the late hour. Miles stopped and gestured toward it. "You ever heard of the language of flowers?"

Damian blinked, glancing at the vibrant blooms behind the glass. "Of course. Specific flowers have symbolic meanings. A ridiculous tradition if you ask me."

Miles chuckled. "I figured you'd think that. But come on, there's something kinda cool about it, right? Like...being able to say something without actually saying it."

Damian gave him a sideways look. "I'm quite capable of saying whatever I mean directly."

"Yeah, you're about as subtle as a brick," Miles teased, grinning when Damian rolled his eyes.

They kept walking, the easy banter flowing naturally between them. Like they were walking a familiar rhythm, even if they were from different worlds—Brooklyn and Gotham, webs and swords. It was all very different, but somehow it fit.

"You ever worn pajamas?" Miles asked suddenly, looking at Damian with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Damian snorted. "What kind of question is that?"