melo and child

A Million and One

Requested: Nah I felt like it

A/N: This is 100% pure trash. Trashy McTrash. The ultimate form of trash. I tried here. BTW The number at the end spells D-A-M-I-A-N W-A-Y-N on a dial pad. I’m a nerd. Also the reader goes to boarding school.

Pairing: Damian Wayne × artist!Reader

Warnings: Sass? 

You were exhausted. Two weeks had passed and you finally finished your artwork for tonight’s Gotham Academy art gallery. Granted, you were 13 and this gallery was something small that your teacher wanted you to participate in, but you said yes none the less.

This gallery was also paid for by the infamous Bruce Wayne. He gave a lot to the people of Gotham, it was no surprise that he was doing this.

You packed away your art supplies and allowed your painting to dry. The painting was something simple. You remember seeing a tree in the park two weeks ago and suddenly you were inspired.

You were called out of your daze as your roommate called you for dinner. You went to go get food since you don’t actually remember when you ate last.

You were freaking out. So many people. So much art. You had never been to something like this!! You walked around with your roommate looking at better artwork than your own. When you finally came across yours, it looked so plain on the wall.

What you saw earlier when you finished the painting was just… gone. You saw the other two amazing pieces next to it and suddenly the light from yours seemed to disappear. It was just a tree. Nothing special.

Your roommate reassured you that your art is “worth a million and one dollars.”

A voice behind you scoffed. You turned around to see a boy about your age, yet a few inches shorter.

“You’re insulting the artwork and the artist with that price.”

You sighed. “Yeah, it’s not my best work. It would probably sell for like 15$ max at a convention or something.”

The kid looked at you and rolled his eyes. “No, I meant that the artwork is worth much more than that. You as the creator should be able to see that.”

Your roommate smiled and walked away so that you and the tiny child could talk.

You couldn’t fathom this. It was worth more??? Then a million??? What??

“It would look nice in my home. How much?”

You didn’t know what to say. He wanted to buy it…? “Um… $25?”

“Do not insult me with that price. I demand to know how much.” He crossed his arms and glared at you.

You were confused. “This isn’t worth much more than that. If I were to sell it to you for more, that would be insulting because it would be ripping you off.”

He glared at you and you stared at him until he finally sighed. “If you think money is an issue for me you are mistaken. How. Much. For. The. Painting.”

You simply didn’t understand. “Why do you want my painting? There are others here with much more value.” 

The boy realized that you were being serious. You weren’t insulting him, you didn’t think that your art was worth much. He didn’t understand why.

“Fine.” The small child walked away, in an irritated manor, to talk to… Bruce Wayne?????? Who is this kid? 

.  .  .

You realized that you were talking to Bruce Wayne’s kid, Damian Wayne. The “Prince of Gotham”. Of course you were.

Damian came back a few seconds later, took your painting off of the wall, and walked away.

“H-hey give that back!” You managed to squeak out.


“Why not?”

“Because it’s mine now.”

“No, it isn’t!”

Damian handed you a slip of paper and began walking away.

The slip of paper was a check. You had never seen that many zeros in front of a decimal in your life.

“Thank you!” 

He waved bye over his shoulder.

You also noticed something on the back of the check “Contact me if you have any more art that is available for purchase. 326-426-9296″

You smiled. You might actually call. But only when you have another million and one dollar painting.