how do you think the batboys would react to seeing you after you break up with them? like maybe they see that you’ve moved on and are in a happy, healthy relationship. do you think any of them would want to try ‘staying friends’ after the breakup? whether its because they cant live without you or want to convince you to try and take them back?
OO this is a fun one cuz I'm going thru a breakup rn
Breakup headcanons- batfam
Dick Grayson
King of pretending he is fine. He is so totally fine. You guys should be friends of course what else? He isn't wallowing in self loathing at all, no no.
That man will pretend to be the king of unaffected while lying in the shower crying . He is the human form of flowers by Bruno mars. Tries to casually ask you what he did wrong . "So uh ...as friends..what's like wrong with me? Like as a self improvement thing? Was it cause I bleed out on your carpet too often . Cause I could replace those, just..saying. like not that I want to replace them but...I could. If that's the problem"
Jason Todd
Angry. He is so so angry he can't even look at you. As soon as he hears it he slams the door and walks out. Disappears for weeks , maybe months .
He feels betrayed, he trusted you, he needed you and you're leaving him. Don't you know he has gone through so much.
Totally blames you but that's because internally it reinforces what he thinks was true all along. It brings back all his insecurities and makes it uglier . Worst ex ever.
Tim drake
Problem solver. Break up? Why would you want to do that? He is a caffine dependant, crime fighting , odd tendencies insomniac but he has money! And he is dorky and he is sweet and-
The type to try every trick in the book to stop you. Starts easy with gentle convincing and compromised but if you still want to break up, he will beg..then stalk...then gaslight.
If everything fails he just gets really awkward. Avoids you, saying the weirdest things and embarrasses himself constantly around you
Batboys Winter Is Early Drabbles | Jason Todd x Reader + Fatson Todd
Yes…I know that Fall technically isn’t over yet but I needed to get a head start on some Winter drabbles to invite in the holiday season. I hope you enjoy! ❄️
Cold Morning, Warm Jason, Glowing Fatson
You walk into the living room freezing because Jason still refuses to turn the heat on.
He’s on the couch with coffee… and Fatson Todd on his lap like a tiny, judgmental king.
Fatson’s red glow pulses gently in the dim room.
Jason smirks.
“You look like a frostbitten gremlin. Come here.”
He lifts the blanket and pulls you between him and the plush, grumbling but secretly thrilled.
Fatson Todd presses against your side and activates:
“I love you.”
Jason sighs. “Same, buddy. Same.”
First Snowfall + One Overexcited Plush
Jason drags you out of bed to see the first snow.
You’re half-asleep, wrapped in blankets.
He’s practically vibrating.
And tucked under his arm?
Fatson Todd, because “He deserves to see his first snow too.”
You step outside onto the balcony, breath misting in the cold, Jason smiling at the rooftops below.
Fatson Todd stares blankly at the snowfall.
Jason lifts him up like a lion cub.
“We’re making winter memories, shut up,” he says when you laugh.
The Coat War + The Plush Who Took Your Side
You try to force Jason into wearing a coat.
He resists.
It becomes a wrestling match.
Then…
Fatson Todd slips off the couch and lands at Jason’s feet, activating on impact:
“I love you!”
You gasp. “He’s telling you to put the coat on.”
Jason glares at both of you.
“…snitches, the both of you.”
He wears the coat.
Cinnamon Candle Season + Fatson Todd Sniff Test
You light the first cinnamon candle of the season.
Jason walks in, squints, and picks up Fatson Todd like a bomb-sniffing dog.
“Go on, little man. Is the vibe correct?”
He holds the plush toward the candle.
Nothing happens.
“…He approves,” Jason declares.
You roll your eyes. “He’s a plush, Jason.”
Jason: “A plush with taste.”
Warm Hands, Cold Nose, and One Betrayal
Jason presses his freezing nose to your neck.
You scream.
He laughs.
Then Fatson Todd who you had been cuddling falls to the floor from the sudden movement and activates:
“I love you!”
Jason points at him.
“See? He loves me. He thinks I’m funny.”
You grab the plush and hug it protectively.
“He loves EVERYONE. He’s Switzerland.”
Christmas Finds at the Grocery Store
You’re grocery shopping.
Jason complains about the early Christmas aisles.
Fatson Todd is riding in the cart like a tiny emperor because Jason said, “He deserves enrichment.”
You drop a Santa cookie tin into the cart.
Jason groans.
Fatson Todd activates again:
“I love you!”
Jason glares at the plush.
“You traitorous little marshmallow.”
Hoodie Theft Season (ft. Plush Witness #1)
You steal Jason’s biggest, comfiest hoodie.
Jason walks into the room and stops dead.
You, in his hoodie.
Fatson Todd in your lap like your accomplice.
Jason crosses his arms.
“I see how it is. Team Hoodie Thief.”
You kiss the plush on the head.
“He supports my crimes.”
Jason drops onto the couch beside you.
“Fine. But give me the real cuddles. He’s just here for emotional support.”
Early Christmas Light Drive — Three Hearts, One Car
You and Jason go hunting for early Christmas lights.
Fatson Todd rides in the backseat with a seatbelt on because Jason said,
“He deserves safety.”
Every time you pass a house with lights up too early, Jason groans dramatically.
But then you drive past a house with purple lights shaped into a bat-symbol.
Jason goes quiet.
“Okay,” he says. “That one’s nice.”
Fatson Todd activates without being touched maybe from the car vibrations:
“I love you!”
Jason snorts.
“Me too, little dude. Me too.”
Pre-Holiday Cuddle Season
Nights get colder.
You and Jason silently start going to bed earlier just to cuddle.
Tonight, you wake up with Jason’s arms around you… and Fatson Todd squished between your chests like a peace offering.
Stay a Little Longer | Jason Todd x Sweetie! Reader
You catch him by the sleeve before he can shrug on his jacket, fingers curling in the worn leather like you’re holding on for dear life. Jason pauses, half turned toward the door, half toward you, his expression softening the second he sees your face.
“Sweetheart,” he sighs, brushing a thumb along your cheek, “don’t give me that look.”
“I’m not giving you a look.”
You are absolutely giving him a look.
He huffs a laugh anyway, because you’re standing there in his shirt, hair messy, eyes glossy with worry you haven’t voiced yet. You don’t have to. He can feel it radiating off you.
“I just…” You swallow, tugging on his sleeve again. “It’s late. And it’s cold. And I don’t want you going out there tonight.”
Jason’s chest tightens because you don’t say things like that often, not out loud. Not with that tremble in your voice.
He leans his forehead against yours, eyes closing. “Baby. I’ll be okay.”
“You always say that,” you whisper, “and then you come home limping or bleeding or…”
Your voice cracks, just a little.
“Just stay with me tonight. Please?”
Jason’s resolve shatters instantly.
He exhales, slow and defeated, the kind of sigh a man makes when he’s realizing he’d burn the world down before he’d deny you anything. His jacket falls to the floor with a soft thud as he wraps his arms around you, lifting you against his chest like that alone answers everything.
“Alright,” he murmurs into your hair, “alright, Sweetie. I’m not going anywhere.”
You cling to him, relief melting your whole body against his. Jason presses a kiss to your temple, then another, like he’s reassuring himself you’re real.
“See?” he murmurs, guiding you back toward the bed. “Told you. You’re the only thing I’d ever stay in for.”
And when he pulls you into his arms under the blankets, he holds you tighter than usual like he needed this just as badly as you did.
All the Quiet Things That Happen in November | Damian Wayne x Reader Drabbles
soft! damian | fall fluff | cozy banter | quiet love in Gotham
There’s something about November that softens even Gotham’s sharpest edges.
The rain lingers longer, the air smells of leaves and tea and city smoke.
And in the middle of it all, there’s Damian.
Stoic, brilliant, infuriatingly composed Damian Wayne, slowly learning what it means to let the season, and you, thaw something inside him.
These are all the quiet moments, the soft wars over pumpkin spice, the late afternoons in golden light, the warmth that sneaks in beneath the cold.
Maybe love doesn’t announce itself.
Maybe it just…happens…one November at a time.
The November Sun
The manor grounds were quiet, covered in amber and gold leaves. Damian stood beneath the old oak, sketchbook in hand, light hitting his hair like fire.
You found him there, gloves tucked in your pockets, scarf too big for your face.
“Drawing the trees again?” you teased softly.
He shook his head. “No. Just… trying to capture the way the light moves when you walk by.”
Your cheeks burned hotter than the sunset, and when you stepped closer, he angled the sketchbook away.
“Not finished,” he muttered.
“Neither am I,” you replied. “With you.”
Pumpkin Spice War Crimes
“You cannot convince me this is consumable.”
Damian’s face was priceless, one sip of your pumpkin spice latte and he looked offended by the concept of autumn itself.
“It’s the taste of the season,” you said, taking it back.
“It’s sugar and regret.”
You grinned. “You liked the cinnamon roll, though.”
“That,” he admitted begrudgingly, “was acceptable.”
Five minutes later, he was stealing another sip when he thought you weren’t looking. You didn’t call him out, not when his nose scrunched at the sweetness, not when he said quietly,
“…I suppose it’s tolerable. In your company.”
Rain in Gotham
November rain in Gotham was cruel, cold, sharp, and endless. Damian hated it.
But when you found him pacing on the balcony, cape soaked through, you didn’t hesitate to step out.
“Come inside,” you urged, tugging his sleeve.
He didn’t move. “The city doesn’t stop because of weather.”
“And neither do you,” you said. “That’s kind of the problem.”
For a moment, the world was nothing but rain and heartbeat. Then, finally, he exhaled and let you pull him in.
You wrapped him in a towel, hair dripping, and he whispered,
“You’re warm. It’s… irritatingly comforting.”
Library Light
It was one of those still, cloudy November afternoons, the kind that smelled like rain and wood smoke. Damian was reading by the window in the manor library, light spilling across his lap, Titus snoring at his feet.
You crept up behind him and slid a steaming cup of tea onto the table.
He didn’t look up. “Chamomile?”
“Of course.”
A hum of approval. “You know me too well.”
“Someone has to,” you said with a smile.
He finally looked up then, eyes warm and quiet. “Yes,” he said softly. “Someone does.”
Family Dinner
“Beloved,” Damian murmured under his breath, “if Drake makes another pun about stuffing, I will commit a crime.”
You bit your lip to keep from laughing as Tim handed over the mashed potatoes, smirking.
“Come on, Dami, it’s Thanksgiving! Be thankful I have good material.”
Damian muttered something in Arabic that definitely wasn’t thankful.
You nudged his arm gently. “It’s one dinner. You can survive.”
He turned to you, eyes narrowing, but the edge softened. “I suppose. With you here.”
You smiled. “That’s the spirit.”
He sighed. “More like survival instinct.”
Sweater Weather
“Is that my sweater?”
You froze mid-step in the hallway, oversized Wayne-branded sweater hanging halfway down your thighs. Damian’s, unmistakably.
“…Maybe.”
He crossed his arms. “It appears you’ve stolen from me.”
You tilted your head. “Possession is nine-tenths of the law.”
“That’s not how the League of Assassins sees it.”
You grinned, stepping closer. “Good thing I’m not in the League.”
He leaned down, breath warm against your cheek.
“Good thing,” he murmured, fingers brushing the hem. “Because I would’ve had to take it back by force.”
First Frost
The first frost came early that year. You woke to see your breath in the air, frost tracing the windowpanes. Damian was already awake, standing by the glass, quiet.
“Do you miss it?” you asked softly. “The desert?”
He paused. “Sometimes. The warmth. The predictability of the sun.”
You wrapped your arms around him from behind, chin resting against his shoulder.
“And yet you stay here.”
He placed his hand over yours. “Because you’re here.”
end note:
November isn’t loud love it’s quiet. It’s tea and sweaters and long glances over rain.
It’s Damian Wayne letting himself breathe.
And somehow, in the stillness between falling leaves and first frost, he finds that warmth doesn’t always come from the sun.
