SON OF BATMAN

"Raven has always, and will always, belong to me."

"She. Is. Mine."

As Damian's words echoed through the charged air, Raven felt her entire world tilt. The moment the words left his lips, Raven felt as though time itself had stopped. Her heart skipped a beat, the simple yet profound declaration reverberating through her like a thunderclap. Her violet eyes widened in disbelief, her pale cheeks rapidly flushing with a deep red hue. It spread quickly. Her ears burned, and even her neck and shoulders seemed to catch the wave of crimson. On her fair, pale skin, the color stood out starkly, unmistakably. Like sunset bleeding across fresh snow, the blush painted her complexion in shades of vulnerability she couldn't hide.

She was embarrassed, mortified, really, and not just for herself, but also for him. The words "She is mine" echoed in her mind, each syllable resonating with a boldness she never thought Damian was capable of. She always knew he was bold beyond limits, but this? How could he have said that, right there, with her in his arms, with the weight of those words hanging heavy in the air?

It wasn't just the possessive declaration that made her blush so fiercely; it was the sheer audacity of saying it out loud, to Trigon of all beings, while she was right there, held close against him.

Her own embarrassment was overwhelming, almost unbearable, and yet Damian had spoken without hesitation, his voice steady and sure.

If simply hearing those words had nearly undone her, she could not even imagine how courageous he is to declare it so openly, so confidently, especially with her so close, vulnerable in his arms, as if daring her to deny it.

The words repeated in her mind, 'She is mine. She is mine. She is mine.' They echoed like a mantra, unrelenting and impossibly loud. Each repetition seemed to carve itself deeper into her consciousness, as if branding her very soul with their truth. She could feel her heartbeat racing in her chest, a frantic, uncontrollable rhythm that seemed to shake her entire body. Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling unevenly as if she couldn't quite catch her breath. It was overwhelming. Embarrassment, elation, disbelief, and a warmth she hadn't felt in years. The emotions crashed through her like waves, each one threatening to sweep away what little composure she had left.

Her fingers instinctively gripped the fabric of Damian's shirt, her knuckles pale against the dark material. She couldn't meet his eyes; she couldn't even bring herself to look up at him. Instead, she tilted her head downward, trying to hide her face in the shadows of her hair, though she knew it was futile. It was as if smoke was billowing out of her ears, the heat radiating from her so intense she could almost feel it. The warmth seemed to pulse with each heartbeat, a testament to how deeply his words had affected her.

Her body trembled slightly, not from fear, but from the sheer weight of his words. Each tremor was like a small earthquake, threatening to shake loose the careful walls she'd built around her heart. The confidence, the possessiveness, it was more than she had ever dared to imagine. Her heart thudded so loudly in her chest that it drowned out every other sound. She was sure he could hear it too, that he could feel it against him, betraying her flustered state. The rapid drumming of her heart seemed to speak what her voice couldn't, broadcasting her vulnerability in a morse code of beats against his chest.

And through it all, Damian held her firmly in his arms, his grip unyielding, his presence steady and unshakable. To Raven, it felt as though she were the only one falling apart. And yet, a part of her, the part that had longed for this moment, couldn't help but cling to the hope and comfort that his words had brought.

For what felt like an eternity, Raven stayed frozen in place, her face hidden against Damian's chest as she tried to calm the whirlwind of emotions raging inside her. His heartbeat beneath her ear was steady and strong, a rhythmic counterpoint to her own chaotic pulse. The words he had spoken still echoed in her mind, refusing to fade, their impact resonating with every beat of her frantic heart. She felt safe in his embrace, yet the storm of bashfulness and confusion made it impossible for her to lift her gaze.

But slowly, her breath began to steady, and a new feeling took root, a flicker of curiosity that fought its way through the haze of her embarrassment. She wanted to see him. To look at him. To confirm once again that he was real, here, and unshaken by everything surrounding them. Gathering her courage, she slowly tilted her head upward, her violet eyes hesitant as they traveled from his chest, along the sharp lines of his jaw, and finally up to his face.

The moment her gaze locked onto his, she froze.

Damian's eyes, once a striking green and now a dark, endless black, had transformed further. The pupils, already devoid of light, had expanded, devouring the whites of his eyes entirely. What remained were two fathomless abysses, swirling with an otherworldly depth that seemed to pull at her very soul. They were like twin black holes, each one containing the infinite darkness of a universe without stars. They were unlike anything she had ever seen, terrifying and mesmerizing all at once.

Her breath hitched, and her trembling fingers reflexively tightened their grip on his shirt. A chill ran down her spine as she felt the sheer intensity radiating from his gaze. Those eyes weren't human; they were voids, bottomless and consuming, yet they held no malice toward her. Instead, they were directed solely at the demon that has tormented her for years, unwavering and unrelenting.

"Damian…" she whispered, her voice barely audible, a mix of awe and fear trembling on her lips. Her heart thudded even louder in her chest as she struggled to comprehend the sight before her. It was as if she were staring into the abyss itself, and the abyss was staring back.

For a moment, Raven was certain she could feel the weight of his emotions, not rage, not vengeance, but something far more resolute and terrifying. It was like standing at the edge of an ancient power, primordial and absolute in its certainty. It was a force of will so strong that even she, overwhelmed as she was, could sense it. His gaze wasn't for her, not now. It was reserved entirely for Trigon, and as she realized this, her awe mingled with an almost fragile sense of safety.

Trigon, however, felt none of that safety.

From his vantage, the demon lord had been prepared to bask in his own superiority. Millennia of unchallenged dominance had made him expect nothing less. But now, as Damian's abyssal eyes locked onto his own, a surge of primal alarm clawed its way through him, a feeling so foreign it took him a moment to recognize it for what it was. Danger.

Trigon, the destroyer of worlds, conqueror of dimensions, felt danger. The sensation was alien to him, like a forgotten language suddenly remembered in a moment of crisis.

His gaze bore into Damian's, trying to assert dominance as he always had. Yet, the more he stared, the less certain he became. Those eyes weren't merely empty sockets, they were a void, vast and incomprehensible, as though staring into them was to peer into an existence beyond understanding. They seemed to contain something older than time itself, a darkness that predated even Trigon's ancient evil. A force unlike anything Trigon had encountered lurked in that abyss, silent and unyielding.

The demon's colossal frame shifted, his chains clinking softly against his movements. For the first time in millennia, his fiery confidence faltered. Even his booming voice, the one that had shaken countless realms, felt inadequate in the face of those eyes.

Trigon's composure shattered like fragile glass under the weight of the overwhelming presence emanating from Damian. He snarled, baring his sharp, monstrous teeth, his fiery gaze narrowing in a desperate attempt to regain the dominance he had always held. "A mortal like you thinks he can stand against me?" he bellowed, his voice trembling at the edges despite his best efforts to mask it. "Do you have any idea what you're dealing with?"