“La sainte famille au palmier, reproduction en relief de la gravure en taille-douce du tableau de Rapahel.” Wood engraving of the holy family, from artwork by Raphael. Included in the periodical L’Illustration, (Issue 770), published by Dubochet & Cie, 1857
Prompt ~ Can I request a one-shot in which readers parents get kidnapped or taken hostage and the reader is freaking out and her best friend Damian Wayne comforts them and promises to help them get their parents back safely. Thanks!
It started off as an average day, you got up and went to school only to come back to utter disaster. Your house was a disaster, shattered plates, broken chairs, small droplets of blood staining the white carpet.
At the moment you didn’t know what to do, you didn’t scream, you didn’t cry, or call for help. The shock of the whole situation made you shut down and collapse to the floor.
“W-what?” You mumbled out as you got over the shock, you stood up slowly looking around the room. You walked over to broken table, a message was engraved into the wood.
‘two birds and one stone, hostages for me and pain for you HAHAHAAHA’
Your heart began to beat rapidly in your chest, the laughter at the end of the engravement sending shivers down your spine. It finally hit you, they took your parents. Your mom and dad should have been home, they didn’t have work, and if they did go somewhere they would have texted you or called you.
You pulled out your phone from your back pocket calling the first person you could think of, “Hello?”
“D-Damian.” You covered your mouth with your hand trying to control your sobs.
“Beloved? Are you okay? Where are you?” Damian sputtered out, not even caring that he just called his best friend an affectionate name.
“They took m-my parents, my p-parents.” Your voice cracked.
“I’m coming, don’t move.” Damian hung up quickly rushing to suit up, he didn’t care if Bruce would scold him after, these were your parents. The people who he had grown to see as family and desperately try to get their approval. Damian hopped on his motorcycle, swireving through the traffic and passing through red lights.
He parked in front of your house and rushed in, the door was unlocked, you had forgotten to lock it once you saw the mess. Damian’s heart shattered at the sight of you curled up in a ball, your body racking with sobs and your cries for your parents tumbling out your mouth. He didn’t think he could feel worst pain then seeing you in this state. Damian crouched down to the floor next to you, pushing a few strands of hair from your face.
“[Y/N]?” You sat up, trying to wipe the stream of tears.
“I’m going to find them.” Damian said determined, in a matter of seconds he had went from upset to angered. Who dare hurt you and your family like this, innocent people who have done nothing wrong? Especially to people he cares about.
“Go to the manor.” Damian helped you up, his hands rubbing small circles on your wrist.
“D-Damian, what if you get hurt too? I can’t take that.” You sobbed into his chest.
“Don’t fret over me, I will be fine. I love you.” He whispered as he placed a kiss on your forehead.
“I love you too.”
You replied, wishing he knew that you meant it as more than friends.
Late thirteenth century headdress. Wood engraving by Eugene Mouard, based on the artwork of Eugene Emmanuel Viollet le-Duc, for the book Dictionnaire Raisonne du Mobilier Francais de l’Epoque Carlovingienne a la Renaissance, vol. 3, 1874.