Lollianna

"وقال الرب "أحبوا أعدائكم"، فأطعته وأحببت ذاتي"

[xolollipop]

❀˖ °𝓛𝓸𝓵𝓪.

𝜗ৎꜱʜᴇ/ʜᴇʀ , ɪɴꜰᴊ , ᴄᴀɴᴄᴇʀ♋︎ , ᴍɪɴᴏʀ , ᴍᴜꜱʟɪᴍ , ᴡᴇꜱᴛ ᴀꜱɪᴀɴ , ʜᴜɢᴇ ʙᴏᴏᴋ ɢɪʀʟɪᴇ , ᴅᴀʏᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ , ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴛᴏᴏᴛʜ , ᴄᴀʀʀᴏᴛ ᴄᴀᴋᴇ ᴀᴅᴅɪᴄᴛ , ᴛᴠ ɢɪʀʟ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ , ᴏʟᴅᴇꜱᴛ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ ᴄᴏʀᴇ , ᴅᴀᴍɪᴀɴ’ꜱ ᴡɪꜰᴇ , ᴡɪʟʟ ꜱᴏʟᴀᴄᴇ'ꜱ ꜰɪᴀɴᴄᴇᴇ , ʀᴀᴠɪ ꜱɪɴɢʜ'ꜱ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ , ɢɪᴠᴇʀ , ʙᴀᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴʟɪɢʜᴛ , ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ʙᴏᴏᴋ ɪ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ , ᴄᴏᴄᴏᴀ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴛ , ꜰᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏꜱ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʙᴇᴅ , ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴄɪʀᴄᴜꜱ , ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛ ʟɪʙʀᴀʀʏ’ꜱ , ʙʟᴜᴇʙᴇʀʀɪᴇꜱ , ꜱɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴍᴏᴏɴʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴛᴇᴇᴘᴇᴅ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ.𝜗ৎ

[fancy-possum]

𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 || 𝐓𝐢𝐦 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

4th fic of my 1k event :) || masterlist || based on this

You were terrible at keeping secrets from Tim Drake.

Not because you were bad at lying — you were actually quite good at it — but because Tim was Tim. A detective. A genius. A human lie detector with a brain that never slept and a habit of noticing everything.

Still, you tried.

The surprise birthday party had been in the works for weeks. Tim’s birthday was always a quiet affair — he hated big celebrations, said they felt performative — but this year you wanted to do something special. Something that said “I see you. I love you. Even when you forget to eat because you’re chasing a lead at 4am.”

You’d recruited Dick, Steph, and Cass for help. Dick was in charge of the cake (a massive chocolate one with tiny bat symbols in the frosting). Steph handled decorations. Cass was on music. You handled the guest list (small, just the family and a few close friends) and the venue (the manor’s rarely-used ballroom, which Alfred had already started polishing).

The hardest part was hiding it from Tim.

You used three different Amazon accounts to order decorations. You whispered planning calls with Dick in the bathroom with the shower running. You told Tim you were “taking a ceramics class” on Tuesdays when you were actually meeting with the caterer.

He still figured it out.

You didn’t know how, but you knew the exact moment he did. It was three days before the party. You’d come home from “ceramics” with paint on your hands (actually from helping Steph make a banner) and found Tim in the kitchen, making tea like nothing was wrong. But his eyes had that sharp, knowing glint.

He didn’t say anything.

He just smiled, kissed your forehead, and asked how class went.

You almost cracked then.

But you held it together.

The night of the party, you were a nervous wreck.

You’d told Tim you were taking him out for a “low-key dinner” — just the two of you. He’d agreed easily, too easily, and now he was sitting in the passenger seat of your car, looking unfairly handsome in a simple black button-down, watching you with that soft, amused expression he got when he knew something you didn’t.

“You’re acting weird,” he said as you pulled up to the manor.

“Am not,” you replied, voice a little too high. “It’s your birthday. I’m allowed to be excited.”

He hummed, unconvinced, but let you lead him inside.

The lights were off when you opened the door.

Then — on cue — they flipped on.

“SURPRISE!”

The room erupted. Balloons, streamers, a massive “HAPPY BIRTHDAY TIM!” banner that Steph had clearly spent hours on. The whole family was there — Bruce trying (and failing) to look relaxed, Dick grinning like an idiot, Damian pretending he wasn’t happy to be included, Alfred with a perfectly iced cake.

Tim froze for half a second.

Then he broke into the biggest, brightest smile you’d ever seen on him.

“No way,” he said, voice cracking with genuine surprise. “You guys… you did all this?”

He turned to you, eyes wide and soft. “You planned this?”

You nodded, suddenly shy. “Happy birthday, Tim.”

He pulled you into a tight hug, face buried in your hair. “I love you,” he whispered, so quietly only you could hear. “So much.”

The party was perfect.

Dick told embarrassing stories from when they were kids. Steph forced everyone into a terrible karaoke battle. Damian pretended to hate the cake but ate three slices. Bruce gave a short, awkward but sincere toast about how proud he was of the man Tim had become.

Tim stayed close to you the whole night, hand on your lower back, stealing kisses when no one was looking. He looked happier than you’d seen him in months — relaxed, loved, surrounded by people who chose him.

When the last guest left and the manor was quiet again, Tim pulled you into the library, the one room that always felt like his. He closed the door, then turned and kissed you — slow, deep, full of gratitude.

When he pulled back, forehead against yours, he smiled.

“I knew,” he admitted softly.

You blinked. “What?”

“About the party. I knew for weeks.” He laughed at your stunned expression. “You used three different Amazon accounts. You whispered on the phone with Dick in the shower — which, by the way, doesn’t actually block sound as well as you think. And you kept saying you were ‘taking ceramics’ but came home with glitter on your hands. I’m a detective, baby. I notice things.”

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “I tried so hard.”

“You did,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “And it was perfect. The best birthday I’ve ever had. Because you did it for me. Because you see me. Because you love me enough to try to surprise the guy who notices everything.”

He tilted your chin up, eyes warm and full of love. “Thank you. For the party. For putting up with me. For being the best thing in my life.”

You kissed him again, soft and sweet. “Happy birthday, Tim. I love you.”

“I love you more,” he whispered.

The library was quiet except for the crackle of the fireplace and the steady beat of his heart under your ear. Tim held you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

And in that moment, he was right.

a/n : gulp

[fawnindawn]

faint of heart.

summary: post-mission, you land yourself in the hospital with a concussion. in your daze, you plead for someone to tell damian so he won't tear the hospital down to find you, for him not to worry. only problem? you and damian are supposed to hate each other.

pairing: damian wayne x fem! reader

The faint beeping, the low hushed voices—it's an annoying, distant commotion that's disrupting your sleep, enough to rouse you from the heavy, dark haze enveloping your senses. Your heavy lids peel open, blinking slowly as your vision adjusts to the sight of the hospital ceiling.

The striking scent of disinfectant hits you, and your nose instinctively wrinkles. A low rasp escapes your throat, just enough to stop the whispers.

"—She's awake!"

It’s a familiar voice, you think. Dick. It wasn’t the voice you wanted to hear, no matter how reassuring—not when the one you're familiar with holds a much more begrudging tone.

"I need..." Who? There's an urgent pressure building up in the back of your mind, an important request hanging right off your tongue. "To tell him."

"Hey-hey, you're okay. Just a little disoriented." Dick’s face comes into view, his messy locks covering the fuzzy halo of light above you. “You have a minor concussion, but no fatal injuries.”

"No. You need to tell him." Your face contorts, straining with visible effort to rack your brain for a name, trying to fight past the thick fog. "I am okay. It's him you have to worry about."

The corner of Dick's mouth tugs down briefly, confusion lighting his features. "Who?"

There's that damn question you're trying to answer. The fluorescent lights are much too oppressive—overly bright and sharp. You needed a shadow, someone who would know what to do when your teeth grinds together in discomfort.

"...Damian." You mutter. Ah, there it is. You don't notice the abrupt confused glances exchanged around the room, of how Damian's name was the last thing they expected to hear.

Your lids fall shut not a second after your job was done, body screaming to rest. At least you won't have to deal with Damian tearing down the hospital to find you.

"They despise each other." Tim reminds for the fifth time.

"I am aware.” Dick mutters, thumb scrolling through his contacts list. "What did I say about hacking my contacts list, Best Robin?"

"You didn't say anything about that specifically." Tim's foot taps impatiently against the tiles. “And why'd you think that contact name was meant for the demon spawn—never mind, that's besides the point right now. She's clearly disoriented.”

“I just have a gut feeling.” Pressing the phone against his ear, Dick runs a habitual tug over his locks whenever another situation pops up that he has to solve. Being in this line of work is bound to give him early greys.

"A gut feeling." Tim huffs, shaking his head in disagreement. “We better hope this doesn’t start another scuffle. Wouldn't want to toss another bone to the press. 'Blood son of Bruce Wayne attacks hospital patient'. I can already smell the print.”

Dick's frown sticks as he eyes you through the open door frame, laying in a hospital bed—unconscious ever since your first waking. The dots aren't connecting, not when the soot from the explosion still singes the edges of his jacket and his mind is all fuzzed up from a lack of sleep and endless documents. Still, the world had a knack for surprising him whenever he least expects it.

The ringing on the other side stops after two seconds.

"Damian." Dick addresses, re-running his fingers habitually through his hair. "There's been a situation at the hospital..."

Here's the thing, Dick knows Damian. He understands the passing trait of impatience among their family, which is why he's already summarised the facts down to twenty seconds. The call abruptly ends at ten.

"Huh." Dick mutters, brows pressed together as he looks back to Tim. "He hung up."

Dick barely got to explain anything beyond the mention of your name and their current location. Your voice echoes in reminder as he stares at his screen, the duration of the call staring back at him. It's him you have to worry about.

Damian's anything but subtle. Of his frigid attitude—his blatant dislike towards you. Putting the two of you in the same room, it was guaranteed disaster. Yet, Damian was the first name that came out of your mouth.

"Told you it doesn't make sense." Tim shrugs. "Logically, he's the last person we should've called."

"We'll see." Dick answers, head leaning back to rest against the wall. "He's surprised us both plenty of times."

"Yeah, by attempting murder on us both. Your point being?"

Dick restrains a much-needed sigh.

Barely fifteen minutes later, Dick stirs at a loud commotion beyond the walls of the waiting room. His neck is cramping from this unergonomic chair, and his feet are nerved with pins-and-needles. Tim's ears are plugged in with wired earphones, jammed high with Green Day as he concentrates on his tablet, opting to work through his insomnia instead.

There’s a slamming of doors, rapid footsteps thundering against the tiles, coming closer and closer. Dick barely has time to nudge Tim’s shoulder before the hallway door slams open.

Damian comes through like a storm, movements overly controlled in the way a person would seize up before a fight. As if he's expected the worst, and is prepared to battle whatever he might encounter.

“Where is she?” Damian commands, voice echoing off the tiles.

Staring back at Dick are frantic, darkened eyes pinpointed on locked targets—searching for his answer. It's so abruptly intense, almost inhuman, that his mind stutters in regaining its grasp on reality. He hasn't seen that look in a long time, not since their first meeting where one wrong answer would make Damian your enemy.

“She’s asleep.” Tim answers for him, one side of his earphones still plugged in throughout this entire mess. “She needs the rest.”

Damian disregards his words, brushing past him. “I have to see her.”

Dick must’ve subconsciously shifted his glance to your room, towards the shine of the metal carvings of 78 placed in the centre, as Damian doesn’t hesitate in heading for the door.

Dick catches Damian's arm right before he enters, and the glare he receives? Murderous. As if everything in his way of getting to you has become mere obstacles he has to overcome.

"Grayson." Damian's voice is all wrong, shortened and taut, syllables used to convey only what was needed. "Unhand. Me."

"Dames." Dick tries to make sense of this adverse reaction, but nothing from that brief phone call provided him any clues. "She's still unconscious, and I don't think it's a good idea for you to be in there—in this state."

Damian's chest heaves once, but the storm in his gaze has only darkened. "She called for me, didn't she?"

Dick blinks once. "Well, yes but—"

"Then, I will be there for her."

Damian disarms his grip with an alarming quickness, and Dick doesn't even have time to recalibrate his mistake before he's slipped through.

Dick's palm splays onto the door right before it closes, pushing it fully open with a warning ready on his lips to not disturb your recovery, only to find that—Damian hadn’t moved from his spot since he entered. Dick feels Tim pressing into his side, curious eyes flickering at the situation, but Dick is too busy watching to care about how they're practically hanging onto the doorframe.

When Damian catches sight of you, his entire frame freezes into place. He's watching you, and Dick's watching him—and he sees it then, and realises what an idiot he's been.

Damian's entire expression immediately shifts. Loosening in relief at the sight of you mostly unharmed, at the sound of a calm beeping from the heart monitor. It's frighteningly out of place, the tenderness softening his wrath-like panic mere seconds ago. He moves almost mindlessly towards your side, forgetting the presence of his two brothers gawking at him from outside the doorframe, peering into what must be a fever dream.

"Idiot." Damian mutters, but it sounds more like a prayer answered.

"We've got it all wrong, didn't we?" Tim mutters, staring at the sight in awe.

"Told you." Dick whispers, his lips tilting upwards into a smile. "Gut feeling."

You stir not long after Damian’s arrival, as if your body is already attuned to his presence. Lids peering half-open, you squint at the shadow towering over you. For a moment, there was nothing but held breaths and a long pause as you familiarise yourself with forest green.

Then, the most miraculous thing happens. You smile, completely unaware of the turmoil and confusion you've caused.

“Dami.”

Dick decides today is an absolute possibility for the world to be at its end.

“You're an idiot.” Damian hurls the practiced insult out like he’s been running it off in his mind for the past few minutes, but his weakened voice holds no bite against the sight of his overwhelming relief.

Under the sheets, Dick swears he sees his brother’s fingers intertwining with yours.

“I told them to tell you not to rush.” You mutter hazily, still readjusting to reality. “At least—I think I did.”

Damian sucks in a breath, low, undistinguishable mutters whispered. Your lip twitches up slightly, which could only mean another insult you're brushing off.

“Yet, you’re still here.” You tease. “Fretting.”

The thin line of his lips creases deeper. “I do not fret.”

“Arguing with the patient?” Your body shifts, tilting closer to Damian.

“I prefer arguing with you unharmed.” Damian mocks lowly. Dick sees the stiffness bleed out of Damian’s expression the longer his gaze is locked onto you, as if materialising your talkative state in his mind.

"I am unharmed."

"A mild concussion, a hospital bed." Damian's frown deepens. "At least attempt at a reasonable lie."

Damian’s body tilts just slightly, lowering to match yours, and the light catches your features once more. Your lips tilt downward for a single second, the sting of the fluorescent lights irritating your vision.

In a sudden movement without words exchanged, Damian adjusts. His shoulders block the light over your face once more, covering you with his shadow.

You can't help the grin that escapes. "That is what I was thinking about, before I passed out again."

Damian's expression contorts, as if his mind can't decide on hyper-focusing on the details of you falling unconscious again or on what you were imagining about him. You decide for him.

"The lights were all in my face and—" You suck in a breath. "I kept trying to remember your name. I tried so hard to find it, this person who knows that I hate hospital lights without me needing to say it. Then, your name just slipped out."

“Oh.” Tim murmurs from afar.

“Oh.” Dick agrees.

“Don’t do that again.” Damian mutters in the quiet buzzing of the machines.

“Save people?” You tease.

“Put yourself in harm’s way.” Damian pushes back.

"Hey, what about the two of us?" Tim calls out, and Dick's quick to shove his elbow into the idiot's stomach. "Ow—what? We never got this treatment and all the fretting."

Damian's gaze shifts at the disruption, the softness creased into the corners of his eyes fading into annoyance. "Leave us."

"Woah." Tim holds a hand to his abdomen, still feigning hurt. "That's just cold."

Damian's eyes narrow further, and Dick's reminded instantly of how the press is probably waiting outside the hospital for any hints of a scuffle. It's already news enough for not two, but three members now of the Wayne family rushing to the emergency ward. Grabbing Tim by his hoodie, Dick tugs roughly. "We'll leave you two be to—catch up. No attempted murders, if the reminder's still needed."

It had slipped out so easily, the old warning, but it feels strangely out of place with this tender atmosphere. Dick's most definitely intruding on something he's not meant to see, but questions can be reserved for later.

You snort, a sheepish expression caught between your teeth, watching for confirmation as the door shuts with a click. When you have a shred of confidence that they're at least out of hearing range, you turn your attention back to Damian with growing excitement.

“You know they’re probably freaking out right now?” You mutter conspiratorially. "They'll never buy into us hating each other anymore."

“That is not my concern.” Damian frowns. “You are.”

“That might be the sweetest thing you've ever told me.” You coo. "I matter enough for you to deal with family dinner interrogations now."

Damian's stare remains unimpressed. “I will smother you with pillows.”

“That’s unhygienic—and cruel.”

His tongue clicks softly as his hand comes up behind the pillow, instinctively propping them up higher as you adjust your neck, an action completely unrelated to his threat. “Only you would be concerned of bacteria before attempted murder.”

“Yeah, I’m a piece of work." You murmur distractedly, choosing to gaze intently at him instead. His hair's fallen into different directions, all un-Damian-like. "That’s why you rushed all the way here, didn’t you?”

He stiffens, hand shifting away from the pillow, but still lingering near you. After a moment, the inner workings of his mind battling between his logic and his emotions must've finally faltered, as his fingers delicately cup the back of your head. He doesn't move you towards him, choosing to come over to you instead, his body hovering halfway over yours before finally letting his weight topple gently over you.

His arms wrap around you gently as his comforting weight falls over you, and the first thing you feel is how quickly his heart is racing. He needs this, you realise, as he settles with his arms wrapped protectively around you. To be physically present as your shield, even when there is no danger present.

He is more affected than he seems with his tightly concealed expressions, now that you physically feel the effects on his body. There's the slight twitches of his fingers when he's still afraid, waiting for the noise in his head to calm down. You know Damian, that he needs time to process before he reveals his cards.

“I didn't want you to worry.” You mumble into his embrace.

“Impossible.” Damian huffs softly, tracing his other hand over your wrist, feeling the soft thudding of your pulse. “You're my problem to handle."

You feel a soft, imperceptible kiss pressed onto your temple, and your eyes flutter shut. This is the side of Damian only you get to have, the proof of its existence ghosting your skin. You have to force your eyes open, the lure of sleep already trying to dig its claws into you—and that's something you absolutely refuse. You don't want to miss this rare side to Damian, all soft and disarmed.

"You scared me." Damian admits after a long pause, barely audible.

You blink, surprised. "You're never scared."

"For you, I am." Damian confesses, his grip tightening slightly. "You tend to render me painfully exposed to weakness."

"Weakness, huh? You haven't got rid of me yet." You hum lightly.

"No." His tone is decisive, stern. "If I haven't decided that I've had enough of you, the world doesn't get to."

"I'm starting to think threats are your love language, Dami." Your hand lifts, struggling twice before you manage to run your fingers through his hair, resting its weight over the nape of his neck.

His body shudders slightly, and his nose buries itself deeper into the crook of your neck. If anyone were to look into hospital room 78, they'll encounter the strange sight of Damian Wayne embracing you as if you were his lifeline. No one would believe them, but the truth remains.

He was yours. Completely yours.

He was also definitely sentenced to a long interrogation the moment he steps out of this room.

"Who was the perpetrator?" He mutters after a moment.

"Damian." You're stuck deciding between a snort and a sigh. "It was an accident."

"You don't know that." He huffs. "I sincerely doubt in your ability to detect an attempted murder while you're unconscious."

Your grip tugs at his hair playfully, a pretty effective way of shutting him up. "Argue with me later."

You feel his lashes flutter against your skin, processing. "...Fine."

He breathes you in, his heart rate finally starting to calm the longer he hears your voice so close to his eardrums, your touch grounding his senses.

"It was torture." His voice is too still, stating the facts without the emotion that's driven behind them. "The drive here. I kept envisioning the worst, that you had called out for me—and if I didn't make it in time—"

His grip tightens with his words, and you're pressed into his chest, feeling what his words refuse to convey, starting to thud again below his ribcage.

"Damian." Your hand traces reassuringly over his neck. "I'm right here."

He listens, his rampant thoughts slowing in pace at the reminder. "I had never been so terrified." His voice remains level, his attempt at reinforcing his reality over his fears. "To receive a call from Grayson, hearing your name—I couldn't let myself think of anything else other than finding you."

"You did." You mutter reassuringly. "You found me. I'm safe."

He lets out a low breath, a slow exhale at the sound of those two words he'd been needing to hear. "Sometimes, I think you've ruined me." He murmurs in truth.

You think he's unused to this. Letting down his walls, experiencing the blatant terror for another person's life that is completely out of his control—that he's left with nothing but pieces to readjust, to compromise. By letting you into his life and allowing you to be his person, he has abandoned his need to preserve himself, to be above fear.

"You're not escaping the argument." He notes down distractedly. "I still have my reservations."

"Anything you need, Dami." You reassure.

"Anything?" He murmurs, head shifting out of the crook of your neck to face you fully.

His green eyes are narrowed with intent now, gazing at you with unhidden intensity.

You swallow, nodding slightly.

When he leans in, the palm of his hand slips from the back of your head to over your jaw. His thumb traces over your lips softly, and he leans in replacing the ghost of his touch with his own mouth. It's tender, a separate language to convey the emotions he hasn't learnt to spell out, on what you do to him. Yet, with the way he's handling you, nose brushing against yours, in a way so precious it makes your heart ache—you think that impending argument's worth it.

likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated! <333

dc masterlist -> damian + other dc works

damian taglist: @supercheesygarlicbread @bloomfaery @enmzgn @jxybirdiv @vanillakirstein @celestills @katzenia @chikenuggetrat @mrrayjay @arabellas-barbarella-swimsuit12 @amandjslpz @mossmydarling @batslilwhore @dclover567 @gojoswaterbottle @annabelleleefrench @neonsquad303 @strawberryfire17 @treebranch23 @vampiranne @tofudubicho @roszszs @vaderuby @revesephemeres @moon-cakei @manachiichan @caterppillar @hoshi-no-koinu @living-that-chronic-life @nxx-jordiepord @elysian-groves @pearly-pebble @fandom-fae @ninareads25 @grace-loves-to-read @jarofstarsxx @favorite-fan-fics @radheadphones @freakkay09 @mydeliciouscookies @fea-tastic @starr-jazz @yourclutched-pearls @bearhug120 @devilslittlehelper @izumi0708 @prettysweet02 @spideyskywalker @dontmindmeimjustchilling @outpostsworld (to be added, check masterlist)

[waynews]

꒰ Damian decided to pay Jason a visit & notice how his body got softer after getting a girlfriend! ꒱

Damian didn’t usually visit his brothers of his own free will. Most of the time, he only stopped by the apartment to grab a quick snack or pick up some accessory that might be useful to him.

But, surprisingly, on that day—on that perfect day—he had decided to be an inconvenience to Todd, simply because he had nothing better to do.

You were in the kitchen, finishing plating the dessert that would accompany one of your movie nights with Jason.

Used to your boyfriend’s entrances and exits through the window and balcony, you didn’t startle when you heard one of them being opened, continuing to hum absentmindedly.

It was only when you turned to wash your hands that you remembered a small detail—Jason was in the shower.

The humming slowly died in your throat.

You dried your hands calmly—much calmer than you actually felt—and turned your head toward the living room, just enough to peek through the doorway.

And there he was, sitting on the couch like he owned the place, legs crossed as he ate popcorn. He chewed slowly, eyes focused on the turned-off television, as if he were waiting for something to start.

He stopped the moment he noticed you.

You stopped the moment you noticed him.

For a long second, neither of you moved.

His green eyes narrowed slightly, calculating, suspicious. “…You are not Todd.”

You blinked once.

“No…” you answered slowly. “And you are definitely not Jay either.”

Jason appeared in the hallway, hair dripping, but already wearing sweatpants. “You started it without me? I told ya I wanted to watch the opening too—”

He stopped mid-sentence, falling silent, his mouth parting in shock—maybe at the scene? At your calmness with the intruder? Or at the intruder’s sheer audacity?

“Just what I needed,” Jason growled, voice sharp with irritation. “Why the hell are you in my apartment?”

Damian didn’t answer immediately. Instead, chewing calmly. He simply shrugged—after all, how was he supposed to explain that he had only come to check if he was still alive? It had been a whole month since he last saw him. But he wasn’t worried!

“That’s mine—Damian, you should be at home. Your home.” Jason sighed, running a hand down his face. “Get off my couch. And stop eating my food.”

Damian ignored him completely. He leaned further back into the cushions, posture relaxed in a way that made Jason’s eye twitch. Then his gaze shifted slowly toward Jason.

“You look… fuller. Softer,” the younger one commented, his gaze drifting briefly toward you, who watched the argument in silence, before quickly returning to his brother.

Damian tilted his head to the side, as if evaluating a painting.

“Have you reduced your training frequency,” he continued, his voice strangely neutral, not teasing, just observational, “or simply increased your intake of nutritionally void food?”

“Did you just call me fat?”

“…No,” he replied, but then paused to think for a few seconds. “Did I? I merely commented on your body fat—“

Jason crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow.

“…Whatever,” he continued, tone quieter now, more thoughtful than before. “You no longer smell like cheap takeout grease and smoke. That is an improvement.”

“…That would be because he finally eats real food now,” you cut in, smiling, proud of your contribution to your boyfriend’s health.

Jason shot you a look over his shoulder, a little wounded that you had indirectly agreed with the little demon.

Damian reached out to grab more popcorn, but Jason slapped his hand away.

“Stop. Eating. My. Food. Okay. Great. Family bonding moment over.” Jason clapped his hands once, sharp and final. “You’ve seen me. Now out. Door. Window. Vent. I don’t care. Pick one.”

Damian’s attention snapped back to you, still ignoring his brother. He straightened slightly where he sat, gaze narrowing with renewed interest.

“You prepare the food?” he asked.

You nodded once. “Most of it.” You smiled. “Do you want to try the dessert?”

“…Dessert?” he repeated.

“I made chocolate cake,” you added casually. “With ganache.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed again. “…Homemade?” he asked.

“Yes.”

You disappeared into the kitchen before your boyfriend could protest.

Jason took a deep breath and dropped onto the couch, far too tired to argue any further. When the younger one opened his mouth to speak, he cut him off immediately.

“Not one more question,” Jason muttered. “Eat in silence.”

him ♡

[xolollipop]

@rarrrrhhhhhhh

[tacticaldiary]

So Hypothetically...

PAIRING: Jason Todd x Reader

SYNOPSIS: Ragebating Jason. That's literally it. Enjoy.

MASTERLIST

"I have a question." She says, hopping onto the kitchen counter, a knowing grin on her face. "So hypothetically-"

"No." Jason says immediately. The fork he's holding clatters to the ground and chair scrapes loudly as he practically jumps to his feet. "Nah I'm not doing this."

"No, listen!" She calls, laughter bubbling in her throat. Quickly, she moves around the table to reach him before he bolts. "Jason!"

"You're not putting me through this again!" He calls over his shoulder, and the way his socks slip a little as he tries to get away farther into the house makes her chest hurt from holding back a laugh. "No way!"

"Come back!" She giggles, running after him, just barely making it through the bedroom door before he shuts it in her face. "I just have a question!" Her boyfriend eyes her warily, arms crossed as he stands near the bed, looking like he's genuinely debating slipping out of the window in his pajamas in the middle of winter.

"I know what this is." He accuses. "You're gonna ask me something I can't win at, then sulk for three hours like last time."

"I wouldn't!" She coos, and to Jason's credit he doesn't make a run for it again as she closes in, stopping right in front of him and reaching up to wind her arms around his shoulders. Pushing herself on her tiptoes, she gives him a kiss, smiling when he reciprocates with a grumble.

And then she shoves him back on the bed, climbs on top of him and sits herself right down on his chest.

"So, hear me out." She starts, mirth lighting her eyes.

Jason looks all but defeated, staring up at her with a resignation that can only be trained into someone. He finally hums in question, hands sliding up her thighs to rest on her waist, waiting for the inevitable.

"Theoretically," She starts, picking at the front of his t-shirt. "If you had to change one thing about me, would you change my personality, or my looks?"

She tries her best to keep a straight face when Jason looks up at her in disbelief. "What?"

"Theoretically if-"

"No, I heard you I'm just-...not answering that?"

"You have to!"

"I'm not."

"Pretend there's a gun to your head."

"I've had a gun to my head before, it's not nearly as scary as whatever this is." He mumbles under his breath, and it's endearing, the way she can't basically see him trying to formulate a way out of this.

"Tough. I'm not moving till I get my answer." She shrugs.

"You're literally asking to get your feeling's hurt." Jason tries to argue, pinching the side of her waist lightly.

"Oh so you do have an answer? And it'll hurt my feelings?"

"This is hell." He tosses his head back, biting back a sigh. "There's no right answer."

"But I still want to know yours." She leans down to peck him on the cheek.

For a moment, Jason is quiet, thinking with a furrow in his brow, until he finally seems to decide to get it over with and rip the band-aid off. "Fine, your looks. I love you for you, not because of the way you look. Happy?"

It's a good answer for what it's worth, a great roundabout attempt to wriggle out of the little trap. She's just not in the mood to make things easy right now.

"So you think I'm ugly?" She says immediately, barely a beat later, looking a little too gleeful and pulling his leg.

"You know I didn't say that."

"No, no, I get it. You love me enough to look past this ugly, disgusting, gross outer layer. That's so sweet of you." She sighs, lowers herself down to lie on top of him. His arms pull her close, looping around her and she feels more than hears him snort into her neck.

"If you're ugly, I'm hideous, angel. Look at you. Set the standard too high." Abruptly, he rolls them over, hovers over her with an exasperated, fond look in his eye.

"We can live under a bridge together?" She offers, smiling up at him as Jason huffs out a small laugh. He nuzzle against her jaw affectionately, lips pressing behind her ear. Warmth blooms in her chest, cozy, loving and safe. "In a swamp somewhere. Charge people a toll to get over or something." Her nails scratch up and down his arm gently.

"Just a couple of bridge trolls." She stills, and after a moment, Jason does too, pulling away a little to peer down at her curiously.

A beat of silence.

"So you think I'm a troll, then." She declares.

"Fuck's sake." Jason shakes his head, biting back an incredulous sounds. All at once, he quits holding himself up and flops down on her with his entire body weight, grinning at the way it takes the wind out of her. He buries his face in her neck and lays there, soaking her in.

"Jason!" She wheezes, slapping him on the back. He's heavy, like a compressed weighted blanket that smells faintly of leather. "You're heavy!"

"You calling me fat?"

He snickers into her neck, and she can't help but laugh along with him.

Reblog, Like and Comment! Ask box is open!

(18/04/2026)

[xolollipop]

@rarrrrhhhhhhh

[arfemiz]

GIRLS NIGHT IN (CRASHED)

✎⠀⠀pairing ⦂ jason todd x reader | sequel, 4.5k words.

࿐ synopsis ⦂ jason todd is baffled when you cancel your date with a sketchy excuse. suspicious, he heads to your place, where he unexpectedly runs into dick grayson, who reveals he’s there for the same reason with kori. the coincidence unnerves the brothers, and they won't stop at nothing until they get to the bottom of this coincidence.

꒰꒰ involving contents ⦂ chaotic fluff, established relationship with jason, pure shenanigans from the batboys, damian being a traitor, and dick playing older brother.

masterlist . . . . . ↷

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME? SOMETHING CAME UP?"

the text on jason todd's phone screen glared back at him, not sorry to his face. he reread it for the seventh time in five minutes. same words. unbelievable.

this wasn’t like you. you never cancelled. ever. not even that time he showed up with a black eye and bloodstains on his jacket; you simply sighed, handed him a wet cloth, and ordered takeout. but tonight? ...radio silence after a single, dry excuse.

he shoved his phone into his pocket. fine. if you weren't answering, he would get answers the old-fashioned way.

your apartment building was a brick thing. he didn’t bother with caution; just jabbed the elevator button and rode up, arms crossed, scowling at his own reflection in the metal doors.

he rounded the corner to your floor and nearly walked straight into dick grayson.

dick blinked. jason blinked harder.

"you," they said in unison, then both paused.

dick recovered first, shifting his weight. "you stalking someone?"

jason’s eye twitched. "none of your damn business. why are you here?"

dick held up his phone, screen lit with a text. "kori cancelled. said she was busy." his smirk was thin. "funny. she’s never busy."

jason’s stomach dropped. his fingers twitched toward his holster out of pure reflex. "strange," he muttered, jaw tight. "my girl said the same thing."

dick’s grin sharpened, all teeth. "well, isn’t that a coincidence."

they both turned toward your door. silence pulsed between them, thick enough to choke on. then, from inside, a burst of laughter. high, bright... yours... followed by another voice, warm and melodic. kori’s.

his boot hovered an inch from the door, his entire body coiled, until dick’s grip yanked him back mid-kick. the sheer audacity of it had him whirling, fist already swinging, but dick ducked fast enough and held up both hands like he was taming a feral cat.

"I have a better idea," dick said, voice telling, like they weren’t standing outside their respective girlfriends’ secret betrayal party.

jason’s teeth ground together. "unless your idea involves a firearm and a signed apology letter..."

"subtlety. ever heard of it?"

"fine. but if this goes wrong, I’m blaming you."

the apartment smelled like burnt popcorn and nail polish remover; two things koriand'r had insisted were essential for a proper girls' night, despite your half-hearted protests. now, sprawled across the couch in pajamas that hadn’t seen daylight since college, you watched as she waved a bottle of neon green polish.

"hold still," kori scolded, her tongue poking out in concentration as she swiped another line across your toenails. "if you smudge this, I’m making you redo it."

you snorted, wiggling your toes just for the fun of being difficult. "you’re worse than my mom."

she gasped, clutching her chest. "betrayal! after I literally saved you from that cursed eyeliner?" she gestured dramatically to the your face, where last night’s smudged wings had been replaced with something kinda' pleasing to look at now. "I demand gratitude. and snacks."

you lobbed a gummy bear at her forehead. "there. snack delivered."

she caught it mid-air with inhuman reflexes and popped it into her mouth, grinning. "I’ll allow it."

a comfortable silence settled, followed only by the pop of you cracking open another soda. the air was warm, thick with the scent of cheap face masks and the faint hum of some reality show you weren’t actually eyeing.

"you ever think about how weird it is?" you thought over.

kori glanced up. "that you own eight identical black hoodies but only one working bra?"

"well, no, those hoodies aren't even mine, they're jason's... okay, yes, but no." you tossed a throw pillow at her. "just… us. like, you’re you. and I’m… me."

her grin softened. "oh... the classic why is an alien friends with a human who cries at sad dog commercials." she nudged your foot with her knee. "I like you. no overthinking allowed here."

your chest tightened, just a little, but she hid it with an exaggerated eye roll. "wow. deep. next you’ll tell me friendship is magic or some shit."

she gasped again, this time slapping a hand over her heart. "you monster. don’t insult my little pony in my presence."

you broke up into laughter, the kind that left ribs aching and soda threatening to come out noses. it was stupid, and perfect, and for a moment, you both forgot about cancelled dates and suspiciously absent boyfriends.

then the smoke detector went off.

kori shot upright, eyes wide. "the cookies!"

you groaned, tipping your head back against the couch. "we literally set a timer—"

"timers are suggestions!" she declared, already sprinting to the kitchen in socks that slid dangerously on the floor. she flapped a dish towel at the smoking oven. victorious, she tossed the burnt remains of the cookies into the sink. "next time, you’re in charge of baking."

"next time," you began, snagging the last bag of chips from the cupboard, "we order takeout like sane people."

her eyes lit up. "genius."

tonight? tonight was for burnt snacks and bad decisions... or so you thought...

jason’s boot scuffed against the rusted metal of the fire escape as dick hauled him up by the back of his jacket like a wild kitten. "would you stop... grk... manhandling me?" he hissed, wrestling free only to nearly elbow a loose bolt off the railing. it clattered down three flights before landing with a distant clang. both guys froze.

dick exhaled through his nose. "smooth."

"how do you even know my girlfriend has a fire exit, anyways?" jason muttered, crouching low as they crept toward the cracked window. the scent of singed sugar cookies and citrusy polish wafted out, mixing with the night air.

"because someone had to drag you out of her bathroom window last new year’s eve when you accidentally locked yourself out," dick whispered, pressing a finger to his lips as he eased the window open another inch. the hinges gave a tiny squeak. both men winced.

jason scowled but crouched lower, his forehead nearly brushing the fire escape. "that was one time..."

"quiet down," dick hissed, elbowing him sharply in the ribs.

jason's forehead pressed against the grimy windowpane, his breath fogging up the glass as he strained to see inside. the angle was terrible; just the top half of his face visible, one narrowed eye peeking over the sill.

"get down, jason," dick hissed, yanking the back of his jacket again. "your head's too big. you're gonna get us caught."

jason jerked backward, nearly kneeing his brother in the face as he lost his balance. "would you... dammit... stop yanking me like I'm a goddamn dog on a leash?" his whisper was more of a strangled growl, the fire escape groaning under their combined weight.

inside, the put together fashion runway was a disaster zone of forgotten clothes and half-empty snack bags. you struck a pose in front of the full-length mirror, swishing the hem of a sequined dress you wore exactly once to a wedding three years ago. kori twirled beside you in a black number that was definitely too small, the zipper straining over her shoulders.

jason’s breath hitched. that was his hoodie tossed carelessly over the armchair... and the dress kori was currently admiring on herself was yours. the one you wore on your second date, when you spilled wine down the front and laughed instead of panicking.

dick’s elbow dug into jason’s ribs. "focus," he muttered, though his own gaze kept flicking to kori’s laughter-lit face.

"well... that was the last of them. feel free to borrow anything you liked that fit and actually put them to better use... anything other than letting these dresses rot at the back of my wardrobe," you announced with a grin, fingers already working at your zipper. kori gasped in delight, immediately shimmying out of her own too-tight dress. fabric pooled at your feet, leaving you standing in nothing but mismatched underwear that had seen better days; kori in something lacy and black that looked like it cost more than the your entire wardrobe... the audacity to even ask if she wanted to borrow anything...

outside, three things happened in rapid series: first episode, dick's entire body went rigid, his hand shooting out to clamp over jason's eyes with the speed of a someone who had just witnessed a threat roll his way. second episode, jason's knee jerked forward on instinct, slamming into the fire escape railing with a metallic clang that echoed down the alley. and third episode, jason's free hand flew up to cover dick's eyes with equal enthusiasm.

"I wasn't even looking at kori," jason hissed, his fingers digging into dick's forehead hard enough to leave marks.

dick’s grip on jason’s face tightened to the point of pain. "you liar," he spat out, voice strangled. "your eyeballs were practically bulging out of your skull..."

"oh, like you weren’t eye-fucking my girlfriend’s ratty-ass bra?" jason snarled back, kneeing dick in the thigh for good measure. the fire escape shuddered beneath them, rust floating off in bits.

"spying on indecency?" damian wayne's voice sliced through the tension. both his older brothers froze mid-scuffle, their hands still mashed against each other's faces.

jason recovered first, twisting toward the sound with a snarl; only to find their pint-sized brother standing two steps below them on the fire escape, arms crossed, looking totally unimpressed. "the hell...?"

dick lunged first, jason half a second behind, both their hands smacking over damian's eyes with synchronised panic. damian didn't even flinch, his voice muffled but still cutting through their hearing, "they should have made you batman's villains instead. at least they have standards."

dick peeked over his shoulder at the window and exhaled hard, shoulders slumping. "the girls are dressed." he pried his hand away from damian's face, leaving jason's still clamped over their brother's eyes. "let him go, todd."

jason hesitated, squinting suspiciously at the window; where, sure enough, you and kori were now wrapped in what appeared to be matching fuzzy robes, aggressively tossing popcorn at each other's mouths. he released damian with a grunt.

damian blinked up at them, his expression the perfect blend of disgust and morbid curiosity. "so. this is what you do when your paramours reject you? peep through windows like degenerates?"

dick opened his mouth, then closed it. jason had no one to hold him back. "first off, paramours? who the talks like that..."

"assassins," dick interjected weakly, rubbing his temples.

"...and second," jason rolled over to him, jabbing a finger at damian, "why are you here? don't tell me your girlfriend bailed on you too."

damian's nose wrinkled. "I don't have a girlfriend. I've decided I'm too young to take on the responsibility of an intimate partnership."

"then what..."

"I followed him," damian said flatly, pointing at dick. "because someone disabled the manor's security system again to sneak out, and alfred was most displeased."

dick groaned, slumping against the railing. "he's gonna murder me."

"good." jason smirked. "at your grown age... still being grounded. should have stayed in blüdhaven..."

"now, you're just being cruel," dick jokingly said. "you, don't remember the time when you said I was your favourite brother, todd...?"

"no, because that memory doesn't exist."

inside, your laughter spilled out the window again, bright and unfiltered. jason's smirk faltered.

damian eyed his brothers. "if you're this distressed over a cancelled evening, perhaps you should communicate like adults."

dick snorted. "says the kid who threw a tantrum last week because titus got more attention than him."

damian's glare could have melted steel. "that was different."

jason ignored them, staring at the window where you were now attempting to balance a cookie on her nose while kori cheered you on. something twisted in his chest; something stupid and soft and annoying. he turned to damian, "well, if you're gonna hang around, you could at least make yourself useful."

you flopped onto your back, staring at the water stain on your ceiling that somewhat resembled dick grayson’s profile if you squinted. "okay, but imagine...," you began, waving a gummy worm, "if you had to choose between saving jason from a burning building or a lifetime supply of those mint chocolate chip cookies you’re obsessed with... what do you pick?"

kori gasped, clutching her chest as if personally hurt. "mint chocolate chip? those are an abomination unto the sun." she lobbed a pretzel at your forehead, you failed to catch it. "the correct answer is obviously jason. but only if he promises to let me carry him out bridal-style while sobbing dramatically about my bravery."

"sounds like a fantasy of yours." you cackled, kicking her feet against the couch cushions. "I knew grayson had a thing for damsel-in-distress stuff."

you had just settled back onto the couch, gummy worms halfway to your mouth, when the faint clashing of chitter-chatter voices from the far end of the room made you freeze. almost sounded familiar, but you couldn't quite make it out as they were speaking in hushed tones… whispers.

"of course, they'll let you in… who wouldn't, your adorable… when they do, say… but also asks… no, no… don't say we sent ya… alright… everything clear…"

kori’s head snapped toward the sound, eyes narrowing like an alien catching a signal because technically she was an alien. "did you—"

"hear that?" you whispered back, already creeping off the couch. a noise came again; less chatter, more tap, like someone was politely smacking on glass with a spoon. you padded across the room, bare feet silent on the floor.

the window was already open.

you recoiled, blinking at the inch-wide gap. "uh. kori? did you...?"

"absolutely not," she called from the couch, sounding deeply offended. "I have a key."

you frowned and pushed the window wider, expecting a stray cat. instead, you found damian wayne staring up at you, his forehead barely brushing the windowsill, green eyes wide. looking like some pathetically lost victorian child.

"damian," you said slowly. "what are you doing out here all by yourself?" you leaned out, scanning the fire escape. empty. "and who were you talking to?"

he clasped his hands behind his back, trying to master the picture of innocence. "I've been sent."

kori appeared behind you like a shadow. "by who exactly?"

his lips pursed. "that I can't say. It's for my own good."

you and kori exchanged a look.

"well," you said, stepping aside, "would you like to come in? you do know you're always welcome here."

he hesitated, just long enough for you to catch the flicker of something smug in his expression, before nodding. "very well."

kori hauled him inside with one hand, her other already rifling through the snack bowl. "you’re terrible at lying," she was honest to him, popping a gummy bear into her mouth.

he dusted off his sleeves with exaggerated pride. "I don’t lie. I withhold."

you snorted, ruffling his hair; a crime punishable by death in any other circumstance, but he tolerated it with the long, suffering sigh of a child who accepted his fate. "alright, little spy. spill. what's the real mission?"

he batted your hand away with a scowl that lacked any actual offence. "there is no mission." his gaze flicked pointedly to the forgotten dresses across the floor. "though clearly, your evening plans are far more… intriguing than ours."

kori's brows shot up. "ours? there’s more of you?" she leaned down until they were nose-to-nose, her grin widening as damian leaned back. "who's we, baby bat?"

his spine straightened. "I don’t know what you’re implying," he said, chin lifted just enough to show boundaries without losing his air of mystery. "I came here by my own choice. to ensure you hadn’t been… compromised." his gaze flicked to the half-empty soda bottle on the coffee table.

you folded your arms. "uh-huh. you just said you've been sent and now, you're saying you came here by your own choice... not to mention the we?"

"royal," he said smoothly.

kori’s eyes narrowed. "tamaraneans don’t use the royal we when we come alone."

a second of confusing silence. he blinked. "I’ve been spending time with diana."

"I doubt you're even allowed to be in the same room with her, unless bruce is there," you assumed, in a joking manner. "the adults are speaking."

damian’s eyelid twitched, just once, before he rotated toward the kitchen. "your snack selection is not good enough," he declared, poking at the burnt cookie remains in the sink. "no wonder todd looks malnourished."

"...actually, those snacks are all on me," you argued. "jason despises sweet treats."

kori opened her mouth, then froze. a slow, wicked grin spread across her face. "wait. wait." she whirled on you. "how many times has jason complained about damian lurking during your dates?"

your eyes widened in realisation. "oh my god."

damian’s shoulders tensed, but he kept his back to you, rearranging your spice rack. "irrelevant."

kori lunged, snagging him by the hood of his jacket and hauling him up like a misbehaving kitten. sometimes, you forget just how tall she really was. "you little stalker..."

"unhand me now...!"

"...are you taking notes for them?!"

his feet dangled two inches off the ground, his expression caught in outrage. "I am not their spy."

"then why," you pressed on, stepping closer, "are your boots tracking in the same gutter mud jason always drags in?"

silence.

damian exhaled through his nose, and bowed his head, almost ashamed before mumbling. "…they’re on the fire escape. they made me do it..."

"drop him slowly, they could be watching." you whispered, bopping his nose, much to his annoyance. "…can't let them know, we have them figured out just yet."

kori's grip loosened just enough for him to land in a messed up landing, but his glare never wavered. "this is so humiliating," he hissed, scrambling upright and dusting himself off.

you pressed a finger to your lips, then jerked your head toward the couch. "act natural," you murmured, plopping down and grabbing the remote with faked nonchalance. kori followed suit, flopping onto the cushions like she hadn't just been holding that little assassin above the ground.

damian hesitated, then straightened his jacket and perched on the armrest. "they're debating whether to storm the castle or pullback the master plan and head home," he muttered, eyeing the window with mockery. "grayson is advocating for subtlety. todd is advocating for shutting down the whole event, which he was never invited to in the first place."

kori snorted into her soda. "sounds about right."

"and you, damian? I'm curious... what did they send you here for?" you asked.

"to get information out of you both."

"oh, you'll get plenty of information out of us, tonight." you leaned forward, dropping your voice to a whisper. "okay, new plan. we let them think they're being sneaky." you snatched a marker off the coffee table and scribbled OPERATION: EXPOSE STALKING on your forearm.

kori's eyes gleamed like stars. "I like the way you think."

outside, the fire escape groaned ominously.

jason's knee was killing him, especially for a guy his size crouching down. "this is a waste of time," he hissed, shifting his weight on the rusted metal. "we've been out here for twenty minutes, and all we've learned is that my girlfriend owns eight of my identical hoodies and kori has a shocking lack of respect for zipper integrity..."

dick elbowed him sharply. "would you focus? they're up to something."

jason squinted through the window, his nose nearly pressed to the glass. inside, you and kori were now spread out on the floor, surrounded by what appeared to be a shocking number of glitter pens and a half put together… something. kori held up a sheet of paper with exaggerated seriousness, her lips moving silently as she pointed at a barbaric stick-figure drawing of... was that him with devil horns?

dick’s breath fogged up the glass beside him. "are they… making a flowchart?"

jason’s eye twitched. "I'm not sure." he reached for the window, only for dick’s hand to clamp around his wrist.

kori leaned back against the couch cushions, twirling a glitter pen between her fingers with a dreamy sigh. "you know, damian, your brother does have this way of smiling, like he’s trying not to, but it still happens. like he’s mad about how happy he is." she pressed a hand to her chest, eyes fluttering shut. "devastating."

damian’s nose wrinkled. "you’re describing grayson like he’s a... romance novel."

you snorted, nudging his knee with your foot. soundless; remember, the adults are speaking, little boy. kori carried on, "oh, don’t act like you haven’t noticed. dick’s got those eyes... the ones that make you feel like you’re the only person in the room, even when he’s literally surrounded." she flopped onto her stomach, chin propped on her hands. "and the way he laughs? ugh. criminal."

outside, dick’s grip on the fire escape railing tightened. jason side-eyed him... oh, this was too good... but dick’s expression was an image, caught somewhere between smug and violently flustered.

damian, ever the little chaos gremlin, rolled his eyes. "and todd?" he prompted, tone dripping with boredom.

your grin turned wicked. "jason? ugh." you tucked your hair behind your ear. "the worst. you ever seen him cook? man flips a pancake like it’s a goddamn art form. and at night..."

jason’s pulse kicked up. oh hell yeah.

"...like, who gave him permission to take up that much space in my tiny ass bed? and his walrus sounding snores..."

dick muffled a snort into his elbow. jason elbowed him hard.

kori sighed. "he's so infatuated with you that he doesn't even know..."

jason’s chest spiked. know what...

"...yeah, well I have a feeling he's getting close to figuring it all out, which is why, I'm actually thinking about changing my lock so we don't get caught..."

jason’s breath hitched... we...

you nodded. "yeah, jason’s handsome alright, but you know who else is handsome..." you leaned in toward kori, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth as you met her ear. from any outsider point of view, it would have looked like you were whispering an actual name, but really you were just whispering gibberish in the poor girl's ear, while trying to contain the laughter begging for its release in the box of your throat.

jason was already halfway through the window, chest puffed out, when dick yanked him back by the hood with the reflexes, as if he were the head man himself, batman, who spent a lifetime herding robins.

"subtlety, todd," dick said, carefully. "... I know it's hard but we stick to the master plan. damian’s our inside man."

"easy for you to say, you're not the one who's just witnessed their girl confess to being unfaithful," jason scoffed. "inside man, my ass! we’re putting way too much trust into that kid. and last I checked, he was sitting on her couch eating my gummy worms."

inside, damian, continuing to be the traitorous little gremlin that he was, nodded as you whispered something in his ear. then, he plucked a glitter pen from the pile and began scribbling on a fresh sheet of paper. jason’s stomach dropped.

"oh, fuck no." he lunged for the window again...

...just as damian’s head snapped up, green eyes locking onto the window. jason froze mid-reach, heart thudding against his ribs.

damian smirked.

then he held up the paper.

TOLD YOU THEY WERE HERE

jason’s vision went red. red hood… indeed. "that little..."

the window slammed open.

jason’s boot caught on the sill as he lunged inside, because that's what happens when you don't think your action through, and he nearly face-planted directly into your table. only dick’s reflexes (and a humiliating, especially in front of you, yank on his jacket) saved him from eating the table’s material.

kori didn’t even look up from her glitter masterpiece. "oh, finally," she drawled, swirling her pen in a lazy circle. "we were starting to think you’d actually set the fire escape on fire."

"yeah," you agreed. "I really thought pretending to be seeing someone else would have done the job... but I guess not."

jason righted himself, dusting off his knees like he hadn’t just been caught mid-break-in. "you..." he jabbed a finger at damian, who was now reclining on the couch like a tiny, smug king. "you’re dead."

damian inspected his nails. "you’ll have to get in line behind father."

dick cleared his throat. "so. girls’ night, huh?" he gestured weakly at the glitter bomb of a living room; half-finished flowcharts, snack wrappers, and what appeared to be a very unflattering parody of bruce in a tutu.

you grinned, stretching your arms behind your head. "yep. super busy." you paused. "oh, wait… weren’t you two also busy tonight?"

"you cancelled on me," jason mentioned.

"and you stalked me."

"allegedly," dick chimed in.

kori rolled onto her stomach, kicking her feet in the air. "dick-y, you literally brought damian as a spy."

dick opened his mouth... closed it. "…okay, fair… fair."

jason, meanwhile, had zoomed in on the flowchart. "step 3: determine if jason’s sulking is cute or just pathetic’... excuse me?"

you snatched the paper away, but not before kori whispered, "she told me it was both."

"kori!"

jason’s jaw clenched. outside, the fire escape groaned under the weight of his wounded pride.

damian, sensing blood in the water, slid off the couch. "if you’ll excuse me," he said, straightening his jacket, "I have a report to file with alfred."

dick paled. "no... damian, wait..."

he was already at the door. he paused, glancing back with a sharp smile. "don’t worry, grayson. I’ll tell him you tried to be subtle."

the door clicked shut.

silence.

then...

"so," kori said brightly, tossing a gummy worm at duck’s face; which he successfully caught unlike you did before, guess that talent was only preserved for that couple. "who’s ordering takeout?"

jason threw his hands up. "that’s your takeaway?!"

you patted the couch beside her. "come on, red. admit it.... this was funnier than whatever dumb action movie you had planned."

he scowled. you batted her lashes. he caved like wet cardboard.

dick, meanwhile, was still staring mournfully at the door. "alfred’s gonna make me polish all the silverware again…"

kori hooked a finger in his belt loop with enough strength, yanking him down onto the couch with a yelp.

"relax, pretty boy." you reassured your best friend's boyfriend. "damian loves you."

"he loathes me."

"same thing." you tugged jason’s sleeve until he flopped onto the cushions beside you, still grumbling. you pressed a kiss to his cheek... cheating... and whispered, "next time, just ask to join girls’ night."

outside, the fire escape finally gave up and collapsed into the alley with a metallic crash.

nobody moved a muscle.

koriand'r shrugged, turning to you. "well… you always did say you wanted to donate something to a greater cause. turn to the sun’s brighter side… you see where I come from..." she rambled on for the night.

dick grayson buried his face in his hands.

jason todd groaned.

and you dear reader?

your ass just laughed.

the end...

[xolollipop]

@rarrrrhhhhhhh

[tacticaldiary]

Trigger Happy

PAIRING: Jason Todd x Reader

SYNOPSIS: "Listen." He grabs her chin, tilts her face to meet his eyes. "Listen to me." The three gunshots are cracks of lightening in the enclosed space. make her flinch, eyes widening as her fingers clutch onto his jacket. "You didn't kill him. I did." Jason says, turning her face to the body. ""Your hands are still clean." He steps back in her line of view, eyes serious and fierce.

NOTE: I'm semi happy with this I fear

MASTERLIST

It was an accident. It was an accident. It was an accident!

She didn't mean it, she would never, it's just...just that she was scared, and she acted on instinct, and-and Jason had told her what to do in situations like this, times when she might be in trouble on the off chance that he wasn't around to handle it.

Her knowledge of the human body is limited, but even she can tell that the bloody knife clutched in her right hand nicked something important. The man at her feet should not be bleeding that much, red trickled out in spurts and nightmarish wet gurgles.

Shaky hands fumble with her phone, fingers slick with blood trying to type in the passcode. A sob punches out of her chest as the liquid makes her thumb harder to register. The blurriness from the tears don't do anything to help her vision either.

A groan comes from somewhere to her right, the sound tightening the band across her chest. The alley walls are too close, the air is too thick and she can't breathe.

Crimson smears her cheek when she presses the phone to her ear, hyperventilating.

"Hey, what's up, baby?"

He picks up on the third ring, and she collapses against the grimy brick wall. She latches onto the voice, lets it ground her enough to find her voice.

"Jason." She sobs out. The knife clatters on the alley floor, a punch of noise in the sudden silence. "Jay..."

                                  · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

His spine straightens at the noise, hands stilling with the wrench still in hand. Immediately, he's sliding himself out from under the car he's working on and wiping his hands clean, phone pressed to ear instead of on speaker.

"What's wrong? Fuck, are you hurt?" He demands immediately. Icy dread creeps around him when all he gets as a response is something incomprehensible, and quick, small gasps. "Breathe, angel." He says, pulling up her location. Jason's brow furrows when it shows her in some random alley. There's nothing else to think about because the next moment he's grabbing his helmet, swinging a leg over his bike and kicking off.

"I'm coming, all right? Just need you to stay on the line with me." He tries to keep his voice as steady as possible, biting back the fear and the hint of green rage creeping along the edges of his vision. Someone had made her sound like that and he wasn't there. "Are you safe?" He asks, and the silence that follows nearly makes his heart stop.

"I think." A wobbly voice whispers hoarsely. "It's...it's over, Jay. I didn't..." Her voice breaks and he curses out loud, mind racing. Jason pushes his panic down and hones it into that sharp focus he only ever reaches for when he's on patrol, stepping on the accelerator.

'It's over'

The words play in his head like a broken record as he talks to her, coaxing her to breathe, reassuring her the best as possible while possibilities wreck havoc on his judgement. If someone touched her, if they so much as breathed on her, he swears. No kill room be damned, Jason would cut their fucking hands off.

The bike finally swerves into the alley, and he's off of it before it even fully stops, one hand on his holster, eyes scanning the alley with a desperation he's not felt in forever. There's no active threat, none that he can make out.

Jason doesn't give the body on the ground a moment's glance, instead hones into the figure curled up into herself against the wall a few steps to the side.

"I'm here." He says lowly, immediately crouching next to her. Large, warm hands find her shoulders, prying her upright from how she's curled into herself. He cups her cheeks, frantically looking her over. His thumb wipes away the smear of blood on her face, and the caged, thrashing leash of his anger settles down marginally when he sees no wound under the gore.

The wounded noise she makes makes his throat close up, and he hates himself a little as he tightens his grip to keep her in place against the wall when she tries to lurch forward in his arms.

"I've got you, baby. One minute." He assures, taking a few seconds to smooth a hand over the rest of her body, just to be extra sure. When he doesn't find an injury, he exhales and crushes her against him, chest to chest. Fingers tangle in her hair, rubbing soothingly down her spine. "You're okay, I'm here." His voice is fierce.

A few moments pass, but instead of calming down, her breathing seems to quicken again much to his confusion. "Tell me what's wrong." He finally says, firm but gentle. "What happened? Someone attack you?" When she pulls back, he lets her, still keeping her within arms length.

"Jay." Her breath hitches, shaking her head, eyes drifting to the body close by. Her face twists up again and Jason is quick to start connecting the dots.

"Did he do something?" He keeps his eyes on her.

"He tried." She finally says. "But I...you taught me if it happened to- but he wouldn't let me run-" She gasps, and Jason lets her talk, rubs her arms up and down, brow pinched in worry. "I panicked and he had a gun- and I-..." Her eyes flicker off to the side.

Jason follows her gaze to the bloody knife.

Her initials engraved in the hilt.

Jason had scratched them himself before gifting it to her 'just in case', a couple months ago.

"Fuck." He breathes, as everything clicks. "Shit, baby, it's-"

"I killed him." The sob that heaves out of her is gut-wrenching, and Jason's pulling her to his chest immediately. "I killed him!" She gasps wetly. "I didn't mean to, I...I didn't want to!"

He takes a deep breath, tilting his head back to look up at the sky for a second. Taking a life was never easy, it didn't matter whether it was in self defence or not.

Jason still remembers his first. A hungry kid roaming the streets years ago, shivering from the cold and picking through one of the dumpsters behind a run down movie theatre. He remembers the owners coming out and yelling at him, lunging in anger when Jason lashed out. He remembers pushing. He remembers the crack of a skull against the metal lid. He remembers staring transfixed before vomiting what little he'd managed to scrounge that day.

He presses her tighter against him. She wasn't like him, wasn't like any of them. His girl was no killer, not with how soft hearted she was, and Jason would never want this life for her in any world.

Exhaling slowly, he surveys the scene beside them once more...and does a double take. The artery the knife nicked looks fatal, there's no way anybody was getting that man to a hospital before he bled out, but the way his chest moved in small, marginal gasps said there was still some life in him.

There's something about the life he lives that hardens you, takes away your optimism and fragility. It's why Jason is able to make the decision he does so easily.

He stands slowly, pulling her up with him and twisting her to face the gory scene. "You didn't kill him." He says, squeezing her against his side.

"I did." She says, and Jason knows if she doesn't calm down soon she's going to pass out.

"Listen." He grabs her chin, tilts her face to meet his eyes. "Listen to me." In one smooth motion, he pulls out his gun from the holster around his hip and clicks the safety off.

The three gunshots are cracks of lightening in the enclosed space. make her flinch, eyes widening as her fingers clutch onto his jacket. There's a groan, and then it cuts off.

"You didn't kill him. I did." Jason says, turning her face to the body. It's still, no movement, dead eyes staring up at the cloudy sky. He steps back in her line of view, eyes serious and fierce.

"No- that...but I-"

He interrupts. "Your hands are clean. I killed him. Not you." His voice softens as she starts shaking again, burying her face into his chest. "Understand?"

After a few moments, she nods against his chest, still unsteady, but less shaky than before.

Lips press to the crown of her head, firm and grounding. "I've got you. I'll take care of it." He mutters against her hairline, slowly guiding her away from the scene.

When her hands shake, he's there to hold them steady. When she wakes up with a cry during the night, he's there to hold her back to sleep.

And she lets him, leaning on her boyfriend and letting him mutter soothing nonsense, soft and gentle in a way he only ever is with her.

Reblog, Like and Comment!

(1/11/2025)

[xolollipop]

@rarrrrhhhhhhh

[llovelygood]

GOAL!

Damian Wayne x reader

— Bruce Wayne never expected to discover that his son was dating someone at one of his soccer games.

!!: fluff. 1.6k words. smitten!Damian. gn!reader but written with a fem! in mind. stablished relationship. aged up Damian. Not proofread. English is not my first language.

[dc masterlist]

The day you discovered Damian Wayne knew how to play soccer you never stopped insisting until he joined the university’s team.

He would often say that he didn't have time to play soccer with all the study you guys had to do. But you knew your boyfriends better than anyone, and he could be studying three different, very difficult, degrees at the same time and still have enough free time to play with a ball.

Damian quickly became an important player in the team, the striker. Most of the goals the team had scored this season and the last were thanks to Damian, and you were always there, like a lucky charm. 

It was almost like you had an assigned seat on the bleachers now, the perfect place to see the game and admire your boyfriend. Damian already knew where to find you among the people. 

However, that seat wasn’t always free. If you arrived later than usual there was a good chance that someone else had already taken it, forcing you to look for another place. Like today, for example.

When you saw the final exam schedule and realized that one of your exams clashed with the university team's most important football match, you felt like dying. You'd become a huge football fan thanks to Damian, and you loved supporting him by attending all his games. And this one, being the most important and coinciding with an exam, drove you crazy.

While your exam was halfway done, you could see from the window how the players had already appeared on the field, meaning that the match was about to start, and you weren’t there.

You had told Damian, he understood, of course, but he was missing you. Standing on the field, next to his teammates, waiting for the game to start and not having you on the bleachers made him nervous, and he was never nervous when it came to soccer, but he missed his lucky charm.

You finished your exam as quickly as possible, and the teacher almost laughed when she saw how fast you gathered your things and bolted through the classroom door. 

When you arrived to the field the bleachers were packed with people. Almost every student of the university was there, and almost every teacher too. You knew the people from Gotham university were passionate about their soccer. 

You couldn’t find a seat, everything was occupied, so you settled with standing on the top part of the bleachers. You didn’t pay attention to who was standing next to you, when the game was on your eyes were only focused on Damian, who was now running with the ball to score their team’s second goal of the game. 

“GOOOAL!!” The bleachers erupted with joy. People standing up, clapping, shouting, hugging.

2-0. Gotham University on the lead.

You were celebrating too. Clapping and shouting like the rest of the people.

Damian, while he was being congratulated by his teammates, raised his head to search for you on the bleachers. 

He had a proud smile on his face from the goal, that softened when he finally spotted you on the very top part of the stands. However, his smile disappeared when he noticed his father standing right next to you.

His father, Bruce Wayne, who didn’t know Damian was in a very happy relationship with you, his classmate. A relationship that had turned a year old last week. 

You were standing next to him. 

Damian’s mind started filling with questions. Had you introduced yourself to Bruce? Was his father going to scold him from keeping you a secret? Were you going to kill him for not telling his father about you?

But the game wasn’t even halfway done and he needed to concentrate. 

By the end of the game the score was 4-4. While Gotham University had gotten the lead at the very start, they had lost a player due to a red card, and the other team had managed to equal the score. 

However, as it was the last match of the season, they had to break the tie in a penalty shootout. It was their last resort after extra time had already been played.

The penalties were tough. Gotham University didn't miss any, but the other team missed one, saved by Gotham’s  goalkeeper. Now everything depended on Damian. If he scored that penalty, Gotham University would be crowned champions.

The stands were tense. The ones supporting Gotham university were holding their breaths, while the people supporting the other team were praying for Damian to miss. But Damian never missed. Because he was that good, and because you were there.

“He’s not going to miss." The man next to you said when he saw how tense you were. Your nails were digging into your hands.

“Oh, I know, he’s really good, it's just that I get nervous every time.” You let out a nervous laugh.

“Have you been to any other game?” The man asked. Damia started moving away from the ball to get a running start.

“To every single one, I often sit there,” You pointed to your usual seat, which was now occupied by a girl. “Gotta support my boyfriend.”

He nodded and you glanced at him, but not closely enough to recognize him.

“Have you ever come to a game before, or is this your first? I think I haven’t seen you here before” You asked, looking back to the field.

“This is the first one I’ve been to since my son joined the university’s team.”

“Who’s your son?” You asked.

You knew everyone on the team, most of them from the afterparties of every match. Some of the boys were nice, the others were assholes. 

“Number nine, Damian.” He answered and your entire body froze.

You didn't even react when Damian scored the penalty. You clapped slowly as the stands on the Gotham University side erupted in celebration of their immediate victory.

Now you noticed the resemblance: the man had the same eyebrows as Damian, and it was clear you were related. The man in front of you was none other than Bruce Wayne, your boyfriend's father. And since you hadn't introduced yourself, he was going to think you were rude.

So you did what seemed best: you ran. You left the stands as fast as you could and went to find Damian.

And there he was, in the middle of the field, holding the trophy, surrounded by his teammates singing a silly song they'd made up in the locker room before the game to celebrate the victory.

When he saw you approaching, he broke away from the group and walked toward you. You had a proud smile on your face that would take a while to fade. Damian was smiling too.

With the trophy in his left hand, he used his right to take you by the waist and pull you toward him.

“Congratulations, my love.” You smiled, wrapped your arms around his neck, not even caring of how sweaty he was, and kissed him.

He melted into the kiss, savoring the victory and the feeling of having you with him. For Damian the post-game kiss was far better than any trophy. 

“How did your exam go, Beloved?” He asked when you pulled away. 

“I did it as best and as fast as I could.” You answered. 

He hummed and gave you a sweet but short kiss on your neck. 

Bruce, who had come down the bleachers to congratulate his son, had seen the whole interaction between you and Damian. 

He had waited for you to have your romantic moment, but seeing how strangely in love Damian looked, he realized that if he didn't make his presence noticeable then you two could go on like this forever. And Bruce wanted answers.

He cleared his throat. This made Damian look up, seeing his father standing a few feet away from you two.

“Father.”

“You played wonderfully today, Damian, congratulations!” Bruce said, approaching with a proud and happy smile. “Now, would you mind explaining?”

Your cheeks were flushed, and you lowered your gaze, avoiding Bruce’s. Damian looked at his father and then at you. “Thanks, Father, but it was an easy game.”

Bruce stayed quiet, waiting for his son to start explaining about his secret relationship. 

“I think you two have already met.” Damian said, remembering you had been standing next to his father during the game.

“Indeed.” Bruce nodded.

“We’re a couple. We’ve been together for a year.”

Bruce would be lying if he said it didn’t hurt to discover his youngest son had been dating someone for a year without telling him. He expected something like that from Jason, but not Damian.

“Well then, It’s a pleasure to finally meet you…” Bruce extended his hand for you to take. 

You told him your name and shook his hand shyly. “The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Wayne.”

“I don’t want to bother you two, I’ll be going now. Congratulations son, I’m proud of you.” Bruce smiled at Damian and patted him on the shoulder. But, before leaving he turned to you. “We’ll be expecting you next week for dinner.”

Once Bruce had left, Damian rolled his eyes. “Great, now you’ll have to meet the entire family.” The sarcasm in his voice was sharp.

You let out a sweet giggle and kissed him on the cheek. “ Don’t be dramatic, It can’t be that bad.”

You really didn't know what you were getting yourself into. But you loved Damian, and if dating him meant dealing with a strange family, a single billionaire father, and lots of siblings, then so be it.

© llovelygood

[ciricearts]

whoops he fell asleep

[l-thejester]

Silly little headcanon about Tim and Damian time:

When Tim was a child, he wrote letters to Santa Claus. At age 7, he asked for a little brother who liked swords so they could play together all day, and he also asked that he love animals because one day they would have a big dog and his little brother couldn't hate their pet.

It's strange to say that Tim finds Damian's taste incredibly nostalgic.

[suigenerisisadiva]

Duke Thomas As Your Brother! ✩‧₊

Pairing: Duke Thomas x Batsis!Reader

Summary: Having Duke as your brother (Batsis is the older sibling in this!)

CW: Swearing, insults, sibling behaviour

A/N: I don't have any brothers younger than me, but I have a lot of younger cousins so it's accurate but also inaccurate.

Damian Vers. Tim Vers. Jason Vers. Dick Vers.

Invites you to all of his basketball games

His team has a crush on you (who wouldn't?)

He really appreciates how supportive you are. Not just with school but with hero work as well, he seriously enjoys working with you and partnering up for sparring and missions.

Patrols with Duke are SO fun because he's always cracking jokes and you guys laugh a lot, to the point that Bruce threatens to split you up

Bruce HAS separated you at JLA meetings before.

“Why are we being punished.” “You two spent ten minutes laughing at Hal Jordan.” “Because he said ‘rizz’ unironically.”

You were his driving instructor when he got his learner's (he was SO glad it wasn't Dick or Jason)

When he started his relationship with Ana, he went to you first ( because Dick gave him shitty advice despite having several relationships)

And when they broke up, he leaned on you for support (plus Cass)

You're rooting for him and Izzy

He’s the sibling you end up talking to at like 2am in the kitchen.

Just sitting on counters eating cereal while venting about life.

Duke’s genuinely such a good listener too.

Makes you feel heard without making it weird.

He absolutely makes fun of your rich people behaviour constantly.

“You own HOW many perfumes?” “That’s not the point.” “You smell like a department store.”

He thinks your relationship with Bruce is adorable.

Makes fun of it relentlessly however.

“Awwww daddy bought you lip gloss again?” “Count your days Duke.”

When you both were in high school together, he was your passenger prince and felt like he was aurafarming whenever he rocked up to school with you

During his first week at Gotham Academy, he sat with you and your friends (he's so thankful for that)

Was really sad when you graduated (even though you two lived together lmao)

Duke is GENUINELY the biggest gossip ever

Desperate Housewives who?

And as a result he spends a lot of time in your room

Duke tells ALL his friends about you.

Constantly.

Sometimes against your will.

His friends also think you’re insanely attractive.

Which Duke HATES.

“Bro your sister is BAD bad.” “I’m actually gonna beat your ass.”

You two make food for each other all the time too.

Duke’s actually pretty decent in the kitchen.

Better than most of your brothers at least.

Duke remembers your orders everywhere too.

Coffee, takeout, snacks, everything.

You do the same for him.

You guys play Roblox together a lot, and F*rtnite

Duke is very physically affectionate and you guys link elbows together a lot.

You have a sibling handshake, he thought it was corny but secrelty loves it.

He nabs a bunch of your stuff and has you wondering where it's gone. Chargers, hoodies and socks have become common items that go missing.

"Yo where has my shit gone man" "Idk ask Dick" "He doesn't even live here"

Going back to the snack thing, you and Duke are both fatasses and have a shared snack cart for snacks ready for any occasion, like movies, gaming sessions or just talking.

He uses your expensive shower and body products without knowing what a lot of them do (my brother does this so much and his gf thought he was cheating because he smelt like A Thousand Wishes from Bath and Body Works 💀💀💀)

You guys watch hella shows together. He put you on Outer Banks and you put him on Gossip Girl

"What's so good about Serena??" "You tell me Duke"

He gets sad when you watch shows without him.

You guys have a lot of inside jokes and they both crack you two up so anyone looking at you from the outside would think your both crazy.

He asks you for fashion advice.

Elizabeth loves Duke. She can sense his chillness.

You've been in homework-induced crashouts on his behalf trying to help Duke with difficult questions.

Vents to you about his powers and you slide him a panadol after hearing his headache complaints.

You kinda need to be on his good side because his powers hold hella blackmail material LMAO

Dividers from cursed-carmine!

[hellhoundfarts]

Damian is smart. Incredibly smart and extremely observant. He had to be, it’s just how he grew up. League of assassins to being robin.

So he’s able to read you before you even know what you want. He’s always prepared.

He notices you’re quicker to frustration and agitation? A bubble bath is drawn with rose petals in the water and some epsom salt. He’s got your favorite wax warmer on, lights turned off with food and a drink on the tray for the tub. Your nice, fluffy, robe all ready for when you decide to come out of the tub.

If you’re out shopping or just having a date night, there’s always an extra pair of clothes and shoes in his car. He’s had spares in the car since your very first date where you knocked over a glass of wine onto yourself.

You never run out of your shampoo, conditioner or body wash. He notices before you do, it’s always under the sink in the bathroom. There’s been multiple times where he’s brushing his teeth while you shower, you’re talking about your day and you pause as you try to squeeze out some body wash. You’re about to open the door to ask him to grab you a new bottle but it’s already open and he’s handing you the new one while throwing the old in the trash.

You’re about to ask him to change your laundry to the dryer because you forgot? It’s already done. He knows you don’t like laundry and it slips your mind a bit, so of course he makes sure you have clean clothes for the next day.

Don’t worry, you can read him really well too. You notice the taught shoulders, the lips in a thin line, the glare at nothing in particular. You drop what you’re doing, pull him into you and lay down on the couch. He protests, saying he’s “fine” but you don’t let him up. You just continue to run your fingers through his hair, he eventually falls right asleep on top of you.

Or those moments where he just stares at you, gently, eyes never leaving you. You look at him confused for a moment, until you realize he’s just admiring you. You give him a smile, bring your hands to his face and kiss him softly. It doesn’t matter where or what you’re doing, when you see those beautiful green eyes staring at you with such gentle admiration, of course you’re going to be enchanted enough to give him a kiss…or five.

[hellhoundfarts]

There were very few moments where Damian didn’t think of you. It was impossible really.

Even if you weren’t directly on his mind, it would always go back to you, one way or another. Everything after you came into his life, was compared to you.

He wouldn’t say you have taken over his life, but you most certainly have. Alfred baked his favorite cookies? Yours tasted better. Exact same recipe, exact same ingredients. But yours, tasted. Better.

His fancy expensive sheets that he used to be very particular about? Nope. Your sheets. He made sure to get the exact set you have and now that is on his bed. Washed in the very same detergent you use.

A cologne he hadn’t worn in years, it just wasn’t his scent. A bit too, earthy, for him. But the first time you went over, you tested his colognes. You said you liked that one the most. He began wearing it around you, eventually he just wore it all the time.

He was at a family dinner but you couldn’t make it. He moped. Picked at his food, interacted with his family but the second you texted him saying you finally got home. He excused himself from the dinner early and practically raced to your place. He pulled you into a hug and inhaled your scent.

Your presence over anyone else’s, you almost constantly on his mind. The man is infatuated, if not obsessed with you.

[livelaughwriteit]

Character's Ways of Speaking

I am a creature of habit and I tend to stick to "said," "says," "spoke," and similar when doing dialogue. I have to Google and look on Pinterest for other ideas. There is a pin on Pinterest titled something like "Said is Dead" that I revisit a lot.

Blunt

Booming

Breathy

Whisper

Cryptic

Drawling

Gasped

Droning

Sing-Songed

Whiny

Formal

Gravelly

Hoarse

Mumbling

Groaning

Screaming

Precise

Quaint

Rambling

Roared

Sighed

Quoted

Growled

Rapid-fire

Slow

Squeaky

Repeated

Choked

Stuttering

Sputtering

This is list is ever growing as after a while, they all start to sound repeatitive.

[adhdwannabewriter]

Other ways to say ‘said’ based on a vibe:

Neutral:

Stated - A clear, factual declaration. Replied - A direct response to someone. Answered - A direct response to someone. Inquired - Asked a question, usually seeking information. Explained -Clarified or elaborated on something. Whispered - Spoke quietly.

Happy:

Cheered - Spoke with joy and excitement. Giggled - Spoke while laughing lightly. Beamed - Spoke with happiness.

Angry:

Snapped - Spoke sharply, usually in anger or frustration. Barked - Spoke in a short, harsh, commanding tone. Growled - Spoke in a low, angry tone, resembling a growl. Hissed - Spoke in a whisper-like tone, often with anger or menace. Retorted - Responded sharply, often in disagreement or defense. Sighed - Spoke with a heavy exhale. Whispered - Spoke quietly (not inherently angry, but can be). Screech - Screamed in a long, loud, high-pitched, and often unpleasant sound. Shrieked - Screamed in a short, loud, high-pitched cry or sound, typically produced in sudden fear, pain, anger, or excitement

Sad:

Sobbed - Spoke through tears. Cried - Spoke with sorrow or emotional pain. Cried out - Shouted suddenly due to pain, shock, fear. Whimpered - Spoke softly, with pain or sadness. Sniffled - Spoke while trying to hold back tears. Lamented - Expressed deep regret or sorrow. Sighed - Spoke with a heavy exhale. Choked - Spoke with difficulty, often because of emotion. Breathed - Spoke softly. Screech - Screamed in a long, loud, high-pitched, and often unpleasant sound. Shrieked - Screamed in a short, loud, high-pitched cry or sound, typically produced in sudden fear, pain, anger, or excitement

Surprised:

Gasped - Spoke while catching breath. Exclaimed - Spoke suddenly, loudly. Blurted - Spoke without thinking. Cried out - Shouted suddenly due to pain, shock, fear. Stammered - Spoke hesitantly, struggling due to shock. Uttered - Spoke briefly, often in disbelief. Breathed - Spoke softly. Echoed - Repeated something in surprise, trying to process it. Squeaked - Spoke in a short, high-pitched sound.

Fearful:

Whispered - Spoke quietly. Stammered - Spoke with hesitation, fear causing the words to stumble. Gasped - Spoke in a quick breath, startled or frightened. Pleaded -Spoke in a desperate, fearful tone, asking for something. Cried out - Spoke or shouted suddenly, reacting to fear. Breathed - Spoke in a shallow, tense manner, often showing anxiety. Begged - Asked for something urgently, humbly, or desperately. Squeaked - Spoke in a short, high-pitched sound. Screech - Screamed in a long, loud, high-pitched, and often unpleasant sound. Shrieked - Screamed in a short, loud, high-pitched cry or sound, typically produced in sudden fear, pain, anger, or excitement

Shy:

Murmured - Spoke quietly, almost too softly to hear. Mumbled - Spoke unclearly, here due to nervousness or shyness. Whispered - Spoke in a very low, timid voice. Hesitated - Paused before speaking, unsure or shy. Stuttered - Spoke with difficulty, due to nervousness or embarrassment. Breathed - Spoke softly.

Thoughtful:

Observed - Made a thoughtful or insightful comment. Remarked - Made a casual or insightful comment. Suggested - Offering an idea or recommendation. Noted - Pointed out something of importance. Murmured - Spoke quietly, (in thought, often to themselves) almost too quiety to hear.

Commanding:

Ordered - Gave a command or instruction. Demanded - Insisted on something firmly or forcefully. Directed - Gave specific instructions or guidance. Commanded -  Gave an authoritative order; a directive, or control over a situation or group.

[xolollipop]

nosy questions 2 4 6 7 please and fhanks

my comfort show is kiki's Delivery Service (js anything related to Studio Ghibli) it was one of the first pieces of media i have ever consumed, and ive probably watched it over 20 times :-)

my first otp is probably Shadow x Amy from the sonic universe or maybe it was jay x nya from ninjago i honestly dont remember 😅 aand if i talk to myself or not.. the answer is yes, i used to stand in front of my mirror when i was younger and have full conversations with myself all the time, thankfully I stopped doing that, but i still talk to myself from time to time, js not in front of the mirror anymore, lol

and for 7, I wanted to be a seamstress, mostly cuz my mom was a seamstress and as a child she was really inspiring. hope that was good enough hun <33 i kinda feel like my answers are flat 😅😅

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

you’re over-describing the wrong things.

okay. so. this is going to feel a little bit like a call-out, but in a “i have done this and will probably do it again” way, not a “you specifically are the problem” way.

because.....:

most writers don’t under-describe.

they don’t.

they over-describe, just… not the parts that actually matter.

and that’s where everything starts to feel off in a way that’s hard to explain but very easy to feel.

like you read a paragraph and go:

“this is technically fine. why am i bored.”

let me show you the pattern.

you will spend:

5 lines describing the curtains

3 lines describing the exact shade of the wallpaper

2 lines describing the way light hits the floorboards

and then when your character is:

about to lie

about to confess something

about to make a decision that will literally alter the trajectory of the story

you give it:

“she hesitated.”

and then you MOVE ON??

be serious for a second.

this is what i mean when i say you’re over-describing the wrong things.

it’s not that description is bad. i love description. i want to eat description. i want to live inside it.

but description has a job.

and its job is not “make the scene look pretty.”

its job is:

direct the reader’s attention to what matters emotionally.

so if you are describing something in detail, i need you to ask:

“why this. why right now.”

because if the answer is:

“i pictured it really clearly in my head”

i regret to inform you that your reader does not care. gently. respectfully. they do not care.

they care about:

what your character wants

what is getting in the way

what this moment means

everything else is background noise unless you make it matter.

here’s where it gets a little uncomfortable:

you are probably avoiding describing the things that feel harder to articulate.

like:

the exact shape of someone’s hesitation

the difference between anger and hurt in a single line of dialogue

the way attraction feels when it’s inconvenient

the moment a character realizes something they don’t want to know

that’s the stuff you skim past.

because it’s messy. and specific. and requires you to make choices.

so instead, you describe the room.

because the room is safe.

the room will not expose you.

the room will not force you to decide what your character is actually feeling.

and i get it. i really do.

but also: that’s why your scenes feel flat.

not because nothing is happening.

but because the important thing is happening off-screen.

let’s fix it. practically. no vague advice. i don’t do vague advice.

next time you’re writing a scene, do this:

pick one moment where something shifts.

not physically. emotionally.

a realization. a decision. a change in power. a crack in composure.

and then instead of writing:

“she hesitated”

you stay there.

you stretch it.

you get uncomfortably specific.

what kind of hesitation?

is it:

the kind where she already knows the answer and is stalling

the kind where she’s hoping someone interrupts

the kind where saying it out loud will make it real

what does it feel like in her body?

what does she notice in the room because she’s hesitating?

(see how now the description has a job. it’s not random anymore. yay)

this is the shift:

description should orbit emotion.

not replace it.

not distract from it.

not hide it.

orbit it.

another thing. and i’m going to say this very gently because i know how attached we get to our sentences:

if you can cut a description and nothing changes about how the reader understands the scene?

it was never doing anything.

it was just sitting there. looking pretty. contributing nothing to the emotional experience.

and we do not keep freeloaders in this house.

this doesn’t mean your writing has to be minimal.

it means your writing has to be intentional.

you can describe everything if you want.

but then everything you describe needs to be pulling weight.

it needs to be revealing character, or building tension, or reinforcing mood in a way that actually connects to what’s happening internally.

otherwise it’s just… decorative.

and decoration is not story.

so next time you feel like your scene is “missing something”

before you add more description

ask yourself:

am i avoiding the part that actually matters?

and then go write that part.

even if it’s harder.

especially if it’s harder.

anyway. that’s your gentle (not gentle) reminder for today.

go make your characters feel things on the page instead of hiding behind the wallpaper.

i’m watching you.

(in a supportive way. mostly.)

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