Disclaimer: I own nothing. Inspired by quotes from The Borgias (2011)

Warning: Damian Wayne/Helena Wayne, Waynecest/Incest


Our Love is intense... but Far from Pure

"I would ask something of you."

"Ask and it is yours…"

"I would ask you to marry me…"

"As you wish."

- The Borgias (2011)

Ask and it is Yours…

"Would you marry me, Damian?"

He'd like to say it was a surprising question, or perhaps even random but it was not. He had heard far stranger enquires – and offered his own bizarre ones in return – while they had lay together chastely in the dark hours before. More often than not, waiting for the dawn, to replace their masks and venture out. Just them.

"Of course, sister."

She huffed, sitting up to glare at him. She had heard the amusement thinly veil beneath his deadpan reply. She could read him like no one else could. He was an open book for her perusal and curiosity. And she was a weapon, an ornate and deadly blade to be admired and polished. To draw blood.

"I'm serious, brother, would you? Habibti."

She drew her fingers across his neck, tracing his jugular with familiarity.

"In a heartbeat, my Hela, Ya Rouhi. A heartbeat … if it were not illegal." He shifted, all the better to watching her watching him.

There was a look in her eyes; a look they both know was restricted only to them, a look only a Wayne could fathom. A look of impossible made real. He knew it intimately.

He adored it. He mirrored it. Her.

"Laws can be circumvented."

She said it so simply. Because it was. The law had never applied to them. Never. Only their creativity and daring was a restriction.

He laughed. His chest rising and falling in gasps as she moved to rest there, her long raven tresses fanning out over him. She always tried to make him laugh; he only wanted her to smile.

"True, but I do not think our family would feel the same, Mia amata sorella." He whispered in her ear, lip brushing soft cartilage.

"What family?"

And people said he was cruel. They forget his sister capacity for stark reality.

"I'm sure somewhere Grayson is crying his heart out. Or breaking out in a cold sweat." he drawled, running a hand through her hair. Soft and silky.

She smirked, turning to burrow into him, "undoubtedly."

She enjoyed the rare affection, curling around his chest like an over grown kitten. She craved it. He petted her hair and wondered abstractly if she might purr. He should discourage her, discourage this but she was so warm and comfortable to stop.

He hummed, "I would marry you, because there is no one in this world like you. No one I could match more. You are my equal, my other half."

He meant every word. There was no woman to rival the one in his arms. It was a simple fact. No warrior queen could match this dark, devious princess of his.

She turned over, her eyes meeting his, "And I'd marry you, because there is no one in the world I could trust more. You cannot love what you do not trust."

He frowned, a heavier weigh that Helena setting upon his heart, "Trust is for lesser people, Ya Amar. And the dead."

"I know." She leant forwards, her lips brushing his gently, "But I trust you."

He turned away. She pulled back, resting her head over his heart.

"I love you."

"I know."


Habibi – beloved

Ya Rouhi – you are my soul

Mia amata sorella – my beloved sister