Damian al ghul Wayne x reader

|Chapter 3|

INFO:
Damian is 10years old
Y/n is 8 years old
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In the rugged Outlands, the air was thick with the earthy scent of damp soil and growing foliage. Mara, her brow furrowed in determination, yanked at a stubborn root that jutted out of the ground like a gnarled finger. Frustration tinged her growl, a low sound that resonated through the quiet surroundings. Just then, Athanasia appeared from behind a cluster of wild bushes, her presence announced by the crunching of dry leaves underfoot. As she approached, Athanasia muttered under her breath, the name echoing in her mind like a mantra. "Damian, Damian, Damian. Ras wasn't even his father. He just took him in." Her voice dripped with incredulity and disdain. She looked sidelong at Mara, still focused on her futile struggle. "Oh hey, Mara. Have you seen the little termite, Damian? The so-called 'chosen one'?" The sarcasm laced her tone, making it clear how little she thought of Damian's supposed significance. In a moment of mischief, Athanasia touched the root Mara was so desperately trying to pull free. With a quick flick of her wrist, it snapped, sending Mara tumbling backwards, her expression shifting from determination to surprise as she landed in a patch of soft moss. Athanasia erupted with laughter, the sound ringing out like triumph in the stillness of the Outlands, momentarily disrupting the serene landscape.

"Athanasia! Where's Damian? Did you really leave him out there all by himself again?" I shouted, my voice laced with concern. "Hey—it's every human for themselves out here," she replied nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders as if the matter were trivial. "That little termite's gotta learn to fend for himself." Athanasia stood there, her body nearly engulfed by a swarm of buzzing flies that landed on her arms and clothes. Irritated, she swatted at them repeatedly, her fingers dancing over her skin as if trying to ward off an invisible itch. The sunlight highlighted the anxious scratches on her arms, evidence of her agitation. I watched her, feeling a mix of frustration and worry; the survival instincts in this harsh world seemed to overshadow any sense of responsibility she should have for others, especially the vulnerable Damian.

"Mother's going to be furious. She specifically told you to keep an eye on him!" "Oh, what does it matter? I should have been the one chosen for this task. I am the eldest, the strongest, and most intelligent here!" As she spoke, frustration bubbled within her, and she began to scratch her arms vigorously against the tree trunk's rough bark, seeking relief. With each relentless scratch, she felt a mix of anger and desperation. "Ugh! These flies!" she exclaimed, her irritation growing as she rolled on the ground, trying to reach every itchy spot on her body. Meanwhile, Mara watched with a smug expression, clearly revelling in Athanasia's discomfort. She couldn't help but feel satisfied at seeing her rival so unsettled.

As she scooted along on her rear, trying to inch closer to Mara, a spark of determination lit up her eyes. "I could be a leader if she'd just give me a chance!" she declared, her voice a mix of frustration and eagerness. Her friend shot her a sceptical look, arching an eyebrow. "Yeah, right. Why don't you go ahead and tell that to her?" The challenge hung in the air, and she straightened up slightly, her resolve hardening. "Oh really? Don't think for a second that I won't do it!" Her friend chuckled, clearly amused. "Oh yeah? Well, here's your chance."

Talia strolls by Athanasia, grasping damians wrist. She ignores Athanasia entirely.
"What? Oh... Mother! Mother, hi! {laughs nervously} Mother, I caught some field mice for your dinner; I left 'em by the, um... by the... okay."
Talia lets go of Damian's hand.
Mara stands next to Damian.

Talia strolls by Athanasia with a confident gait, her fingers intertwined with Damian's wrist, creating a small, intimate connection between them. She purposefully ignores Athanasia, who stands nearby, and her expression is a mixture of confusion and annoyance.
"What? Oh... Mother! Mother, hi!" Athanasia exclaims, her voice a mix of surprise and forced cheerfulness. She chuckles nervously, her laughter a bit too loud, as if trying to break the tension in the air. "Mother, I caught some field mice for your dinner; I left 'em by the, um... by the... okay." As she stumbles over her words, Talia suddenly releases Damian's hand, as though she just realized how it might look to have been holding on so tightly.