#dami oneshot

[ot7stan4life]

I Want You (Dami ver.)

Dami (Dreamcatcher) x Female Reader

(1 part - completed ✅)

Word Count: 1300

Summary: After you’re forced to watch for half an hour on the sidelines as Dami’s photographed in her Calvin Klein sports bra and denim jacket, you can’t help but take out your sexual frustrations on her when you’re finally alone… even if that means interrupting her vlive.

Warnings: (implied) sexual content

You knew Dami was in your shared room doing a voice vlive and you knew you definitely shouldn't bother her until she was done, but the sight of her in a tiny cropped denim jacket and matching jeans left unbuttoned for the photoshoot showing off her Calvin Klein bra and boxers and her smooth, tan stomach made you lose sight of all rationality and walk into your room anyways.

She was talking to the fans about something (and you were too distracted by the fake tattoo on her hip to be bothered by what that something was), barely noticing or minding your presence. Had she known the thoughts running through your mind after an entire day of seeing her in that outfit, she probably would've shooed you away immediately, fearing the things you might do or say to her while the fans could hear.

But, she couldn't possibly know any of this as you got in bed and slid in between her and the wall, an innocent expression on your face disguising your true intentions. She simply sent you a curious glance, her attention still mostly on her phone as she scrolled through the live chat. You leaned onto your elbow and held your head up with your hand while you watched her fingers flexing as she flicked them across the screen. Just the simple action sent your mind wandering to past memories of late nights shared between you and her and a heat started rushing through your body.

When she brought the phone closer to her face to read something out loud, you watched her lips move, licking your own at the thought of what they tasted like. She shifted her jaw in thought, moving your gaze to her jawline and down her neck. At her movements, the muscles there tightened and relaxed, making you subconsciously swallow. You couldn't explain what it was, but something about her neck was so attractive and only worsened the burning in the pit of your stomach.

Dami must've noticed you staring, her eyes meeting yours with a curious expression. She raised her eyebrows, a hint of amusement on her lips. Well... until she finally recognized the look in your eyes. In that moment you scooted close enough so that your sides were touching and your faces were mere inches apart. You bit your lip and glanced at hers before sliding your hand down her body and placing it on her warm, bare stomach. The feeling of her soft skin was addicting and your fingers slowly moved lower until they met the waistband of her boxers.

You could tell your actions caught her off guard because her eyebrows raised slightly and she had to clench her jaw to stop herself from gasping. Although Dami wasn't one to give her feelings away easily, her tinted cheeks exposed just how much you were affecting her. Without sparing a second, you closed the distance to kiss her... except your lips never met, her hand shooting up to grip your neck. The panicked look in her eyes told you that she had done it in fear that the fans would hear, but her hand placement didn't have quite the effect she wanted it to.

"Yub-" you started to whine in protest but, with one hand preoccupied with her phone and the other loosely clutching your neck, she had no choice but to cut off your voice with her lips. Finally, you sunk into her mouth, showing her how much you’d wanted her all day with just one kiss. You kept her bottom lip between yours, prolonging the kiss for as long as possible. She let out a staggered exhale against your cheek through her nose and followed you as you pulled back slowly. It may have just been so that your lips didn't make a sound with their release, but the way she didn't seem too concerned about the voice live at that moment convinced you that she did it because she didn't actually want you to pull away.

Either way, when it ended, she still gently pushed you off of her, making sure to lightly remove your hand from her waist before looking back at her phone and quickly reading a comment in hopes that the fans weren't suspicious of the long silence and, more importantly, that they didn't hear any of what just went down between you two. Dami usually scolded you for your unprofessional behavior, but it was obvious that she was never actually mad at you. And you sometimes even wondered if she got off on exhilarating moments like these where you both knew you’d be in massive trouble had the fans somehow found out what was really happening.

For the next few minutes you decided not to test her patience and instead laid there on your side, staring at her. She was clearly uneasy after what just happened and thankfully ended the live not long after. Once she was sure it was turned off properly, she faced you. Unlike what you expected, she didn't start ridiculing you for your careless actions, but instead shoved your shoulder to lay you flat on the bed and climbed on top of you, situating herself between your legs.

Dami was never one to be this aggressive and you found your head spinning with both lust and confusion as she grabbed your neck again to kiss you deeply. Her other hand held her up so that all her weight wasn't on you, leaving a gap between your bodies. You took advantage of the space, putting your palm on her flat stomach while running the other across her side until you reached her hip. You felt her shiver at the ghost of your fingers across her skin and smirked into her mouth, remembering how sensitive she was there.

This made her pull back from your lips and look down at you. She appeared less like the warm, soft woman you were used to and now looked intimidating. You breathed heavily, keeping her intense eye contact as her hand travelled down your arm to where your fingers were toying with her waistband. She grabbed your wrist and abruptly pinned your hand above your head, leaning over you again and whispering, "Is this what you wanted?" Her voice was calm but threatening and it sent a tingle through your body. You’d never done anything to elicit this sort of reaction out of her and you didn’t know yet whether to be thankful or regretful for your previous actions.

You swallowed hard, feeling your pulse race from how different she was acting. Your head nodded on its own in response but she didn't seem satisfied.

"Say it,” she commanded in a deep voice. Her lips grazed across your jawline as she leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Tell me what you want." You shivered.

A few seconds after her words, you felt her fingers intertwine with yours where she held your hand at the head of the bed and your heart skipped a beat. You knew it was her way of reminding you that she would never do or say anything to make you uncomfortable. When you didn't answer immediately, she was probably worried that she’d taken it too far. But you needed her to know this is exactly what you wanted. So you replied,

"I want you."

That was all it took for her to pull back and capture your lips in hers, spending the rest of the night granting your wish over and over again until you were both satisfied.

**This imagine was transferred over from my Wattpad account OT5Stan4Life**

[let-them-read-fics]

Cloud Nine

Pairing: Dami x Fem!8thMember!Reader

Warnings / Misc. -- Smut, Public Sex, A Little Fluff

Word Count: 3,218

Summary: With the next leg of tour in full swing and lots of places to be, you’re inevitably faced with a daunting red eye flight. Dami – paired with you for the ride – attempts to make the best out of a bad situation.

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: The NDA cover that Dami did with Yooh... dear god, does it have a hold on me. Anyways 🤠 I hope you enjoy this piece! Let me know what you think, and don’t forget to drink some water today! :)

◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚

The ambience of planes has never once failed to fascinate you. 

So many people, so many stories, mingling and intersecting for a point in time that some would remember forever and others would rather choose to forget. Children, adults; first time flyers, seasoned vets. Some having the best day of their lives while others were experiencing their worst. 

A bunch of shooting stars converging, waiting to pass one another for what was likely the first and last time. 

With so much… humanity… packed into one space, your mind tended to give into the romantics. It made you feel small, in the grand scheme of things, but just as important all the same. Every unique experience being lived around you could come together to share this one, unifying moment. 

Well, perhaps calling it a “moment” would understate the grueling twelve hour journey you were embarking on…

But regardlessly, within that, you found true beauty. 

-

The thing to break you from your pleasant reverie was the hushed sound of an attendant’s voice over the intercom, providing a time check and announcing that the cart of refreshments would be brought around shortly. 

You peeked out of the window at your side, taking one last look at the velvety night sky before pulling the cover down and turning away. 

Dami’s eyes were shut and her arms were crossed at her chest; she was resting peacefully, just like a majority of the other travelers. The personal lights above everyone’s seats were all dimmed, basking the cabin in comfortable darkness. Some passengers employed the use of the small televisions mounted against the backs of the seats in front of them, and sparse illumination came from others that were on their phones or tablets as well. 

But for the most part, the darkness won out. 

You watched as a few people woke up, some on their own and others prompted by a jab from their friends or family sitting next to them. They wiped the sleep from their eyes and stretched, reaching down to retrieve their wallets from their carry-ons so that they could buy some snacks. 

You pondered for a moment, deciding on whether or not you should wake Dami up. She looked far too comfortable for you to do so and keep a clear conscience, and you knew she needed the rest anyway; the first few stops of the tour had drained her a bit more than she had prepared for. 

So you resolved to buy something for her instead. You already knew the foods that she preferred, after all, and she could eat them whenever she naturally woke up. It was a win-win in your mind.

Upon rifling through your bag and grabbing some of the cash you had stashed away, you took a second to admire her. The curve of her face was visible in the low light, soft and as pretty as always, and a small pout pulled at her lips, making her cheeks puff out slightly. It truly took every ounce of self control you possessed to refrain from poking them; but you prevailed in the end. 

Her chest rose and fell softly, lulled and gentle like waves lapping on a shore. It brought you comfort just seeing her like that, so cozy and peaceful. She deserved every second of it. 

“Miss?” An approaching, hushed voice asked, addressing you. 

You raised your head and were met with a pleasant smile from one of the attendants. The aisle’s sidelights were on at her feet, ensuring that her movements were well guided. 

“Would you like some refreshments?” She pulled the cart into view and pressed a button, turning the lights of it on so that you could see what each tier had to offer. 

You made quick work of choosing and paying, and before long she was quietly thanking you and handing over all of your goodies. Once you successfully got them all and unlocked the small tray attached to the seat in front of you, you pulled it down over your lap and laid everything out to sort. 

A minute or so later, once your work was done, you sat back with a happy sigh and snuck a glance at Dami. 

Although you had failed to notice it in your previously busy state, it became apparent that she had shifted closer to you. She was curled up a little more, and turned on her side, facing you. It awarded you a perfect vantage point for viewing the subtle smile on her lips; clearly whatever she was dreaming about was good, and that made you happy. 

One of her hands had fallen onto the armrest, with her palm upturned towards the ceiling. It peeked out of her sweater paw, tempting you. 

You succumbed to your weakness and reached over, carefully intertwining your fingers with her own. 

She reacted on instinct, still fully asleep; her hand curled into your slightly warmer one, and a quiet noise of contentment left her. She moved closer once again, and before you knew it her head had found its way to your shoulder, nestling there. Her warm breath fanned out across your neck, almost tickling. 

Snacking, you decided, could wait a while. Sleep was creeping up on you, anyway, and moving was no longer an option. 

You eased your head down atop hers and settled a little more in the seat, getting comfortable for the both of you. Your eyes fluttered shut as the smell of her shampoo washed over you, and you gently rubbed your cheek against her soft hair, allowing sleep to begin dragging you under. 

—

When you awoke a few hours later, things in the cabin were slightly busier than before. A few more people had rejoined the world of the conscious, and glimmers of hazy, early morning sunlight attempted to shine their way in through the plane’s oval windows. 

The tray across your lap had been cleared off and returned to its vertical position, providing room for you to comfortably move around and stretch the tension from your muscles. A blanket was draped over your body as well, courtesy of Dami. 

You blinked the sleep from your eyes and lifted your head from her shoulder, finding that somewhere along the way you had traded positions with her. She looked over at you, and her face neared yours in the process. 

“Sleep well, baby?” She smiled sweetly, pushing her glasses up a little higher on the bridge of her nose. 

You nodded, still not fully alert yet. The fog of sleep weighed heavily on your mind and clouded your senses. Perhaps that explained why when you felt something soft and warm against your thigh, tucked away beneath the blanket, you didn’t immediately register it as her hand. 

You peeked over at her illuminated phone screen and discovered that she was in the middle of reading a book. 

“How long have you been up?” The question came out as a groggy mumble.

Judging by the opened bag of gummies tucked away in her seat pocket, you guessed it had been at least a few minutes. You were glad to know that she liked what you got her.

Her lips pursed in thought. “Not long. Maybe half an hour or so.”

“Good. I know you needed it.”

“Yeah?” She grinned. “You were out like a light, too, you know.” 

Your face twisted into an anticipatory grimace at that. “Did I snore?”

Her head shook lightly as she removed her glasses and put them in her bag, and you visibly relaxed. 

“No, sweetheart. But you did get a little fidgety,” she revealed. “I was afraid you were having a nightmare.”

“What made you think that?”

She shot a quick glance around before moving a little closer to you. “Well, for one, you kept saying my name. And it sounded desperate, too, like something big was about to happen.”

Warmth rushed to your cheeks as her explanation sent realization crashing down onto you. 

“And you squirmed in your seat, too,” she continued, seemingly oblivious to your embarrassment. 

“But when I touched you, you stopped.” She shrugged, and the movement caused her hand to move a little. Her knuckles brushed against your center, just light enough to draw your attention. 

“Dami…” you started, before lowering your voice a bit more to spare your own pride, “...I don’t think that was a nightmare.”

When you pulled away enough to get a good look at her face, you witnessed a sinister change take place. 

“No?” She toyed, using the lilt in her voice to further tease you. “What else could it have been, then?” The innocence in her smile disappeared, opting instead to rebrand itself as arrogance. 

“You already know,” you muttered, blushing a little harder and turning your head away. 

Although things in the cabin were more active than before, concealment and deniability were made available by the relative darkness that still remained. It was a decent remedy for your shyness, and you silently thanked your lucky stars for it. 

And, for what it was worth, Dami was making sure to keep her voice hushed and her movements covered. Her aim wasn’t to make this unenjoyable for you; she just simply lived for teasing you every now and again… and she couldn’t deny that the thought of public play with you did something to her. 

“Mmm,” she hummed, unconvinced. “I don’t think I do, jagi. You’ll have to tell me.”

Her hand worked a little higher on your thigh, caressing the sensitive skin there. Hidden desire guided it, leading her to pull your legs apart a little more and grant herself better access. 

But you stopped her, quickly encircling your fingers around her wrist and preventing her from continuing. 

“Don’t start something that we can’t finish.”

She chuckled to herself at that. 

“Who says we can’t?” She asked, entirely serious, as she brought her face near yours again. Her eyes flitted across your features, taking their time to study them before eventually falling to your lips. Her tongue unconsciously poked out and slid across her own. 

“That bathroom is not big enough for us to fuck in.” You asserted.

“I can make you cum right here, Y/N/N. No need to even get up.” She stated lowly, her deep voice full of husky confidence. You drew in a sharp breath at her forwardness, and she noticed the change. 

When you shied away again, she took the opportunity to lean in and press a kiss to your neck. Her lips were pillowy against your sensitive skin – soft enough to tickle, even, had the stifling tension between you been absent. 

Warmth radiated from her, beaconing you closer. She was right there. She wanted you. She could take you in under five minutes, too, probably, considering how worked up you were already becoming. She could make you feel so good…

Who were you to deny yourself something so perfect?

Your grip on her wrist loosened, slowly but surely, as you handed control back over to her and submitted to whatever fate she had planned. 

She kissed the area just below your jawline while simultaneously spreading your legs apart again. Their innocent trembling was obvious – you were inexperienced with sex in this sort of setting – but it only made her smile and fall for you a little more.

"You're precious, jagi," she complimented. "I've got you; don't worry. Just let me help," she coaxed, kissing you again between the words. She switched hands in order to offer a better angle, and you sighed helplessly at the feeling of her fingers fully rubbing up and down your clothed center. 

“Go slow,” you pleaded, briefly peering over her shoulder. 

Relaxed movements would be easier to cover up if you got caught. 

The upturn of her lips against your neck was obvious. “Remember this moment when you’re begging me to speed up,” she teased. 

“Just shut up and fuck me.”

She tutted, “You know, maybe you need another nap–”

“Yubin.” Your voice was sharp, full of warning. The two of you truly bickered like a married couple sometimes. 

“Alright, Y/N/N,” she giggled a little against your skin, and you felt a small smile growing on your face, too, in time with the roll of your eyes. 

Her hand finally slid into your panties, putting distance between your wet skin and the ruined material. When her fingertips parted your folds, she felt just how much arousal awaited her; a quiet, surprised groan slipped out of her mouth at the sensation, and you blushed a little harder in response. She tended to be the quiet type during sex, so even the most subtle of her sounds made your heart pump a bit faster. 

“I knew you’d be wet, but this much?” She whispered breathlessly, sounding amazed as she collected more of your slick and circled your clit with her thumb. She toyed with you, fully enjoying the way your body responded so easily to her. 

“All your fault.” You struggled out. 

Without any further warning, two of her fingers slid into your entrance. 

Your walls fluttered in response, enveloping them in their warmth in an attempt to coax them in further. One of your hands instinctively reached out and tangled in the front of her shirt, pulling her in, and the other grasped helplessly at the armrest that it laid across. 

“Still so tight, Y/N,” she sighed at how soft you were – how smooth. Her fingers pulled out almost completely, curling on their way, before she eased them back in. She wanted so badly to see you spread out, dripping for her; but she settled, opting instead to focus on every little movement and sound you made as her mind filled itself with images.

A slow grind took control of your hips, aiming to lessen the ache. The motion brought her palm into contact with your swollen clit, and when she noticed, she decided to help. She rubbed it, applying a delicious kind of pressure that made your legs shake a little. 

Her free hand grabbed your chin and turned your head, forcing you to look at her. Through the dark, she watched your brows knit together in pleasure. Before you had the chance to bite your lip, you felt hers sliding across it, trapping it between her own. 

She kissed you passionately, greedily swallowing up the moan that you let out into her mouth and adding the smallest bit of speed to her movements. 

The seat made a squeak beneath you – a product of your grinding growing sloppy. Your fingers weakly tightened in her shirt as you fought your inhibitions; it felt too good to stop or slow down, but you ran the risk of selling yourselves out at this rate. 

She bit your lip and pulled away, allowing you a moment to breathe. 

“Yu–”

Her name cut off abruptly in your throat when her fingers went even deeper, brushing up against your most sensitive spot in the process. Your thighs clamped around her hand in a desperate attempt to keep her in place and prevent her from slipping away.

“Fuck,” she cursed harshly. “You’re doing so well, baby.”

You pulsed around her at that, and both of you felt it. Sensuality ruled her every move, commanding them just as she commanded your body; but beyond it – beyond that languid, brewing passion – a real sense of need reigned supreme. She was just as desperate to get you to your high as you were to reach it. 

Nothing was capable of turning her on as much as watching you come undone for her. The idea alone added a certain, sudden roughness to her movements that had your stomach flipping in excitement. 

A kind of turbulence that you never wanted to end. 

“Just a–” you sighed, biting back another moan, “...a little more. I’m getting close.”

She took your plea as an order, not stopping for a second. It was hard to restrain herself, but she fought against her more primal urge to pound into you. The tenderness was a nice change, she supposed, as you turned your head further to the side and the warm, flushed skin of your cheek pressed to hers. Your every subsequent whimper and whine traveled right to her ear – the most alluring kind of music.

How could you be so perfect?

“Come on, pretty girl. Make a mess for me.” She commanded lowly, feeling you teeter on the edge of ecstasy. The blanket barely covered her wanton ministrations now. 

Somewhere ahead, further up the aisle, a man stood up from his seat. You could see it through the tiny gaps in between the chairs – small flashes of motion that indicated he was turning your way. 

It sent an icy streak of panic through you, but, oddly, your body couldn’t stop. Though your mind was pleading to wait – to still Dami’s hand until the potential crisis was averted – your desire overruled it. You grabbed her wrist again, encouraging her to quicken her pace. 

She raised a brow, looking between you and the approaching man. He was on his way to the restroom that resided a few rows behind you, she deduced. 

“Baby…”

“Just keep going,” you whined, trembling. 

She nodded and obediently followed your instructions. 

Though being caught wasn’t something you necessarily wanted, the thrill of it brought on an undeniably arousing kind of shame. 

Dami’s red cheeks would sell you out immediately, despite the futile excuse her kiss-bitten lips would still attempt to make. Your flushed skin and mussed clothes would further incriminate you, only worsened by her hand in your pants. 

Truly, the risky environment excited you far more than you cared to admit. To know that she wanted you so badly in that moment that she didn’t care who knew – who saw – pushed you further and further towards the edge. 

The passenger grew increasingly closer – now just a matter of a two or three rows away as he tiredly shuffled his way down the narrow walkway. He greeted a stray few people all the while, bidding them hello. 

Dami leaned into you, pressing her lips to your neck. She kissed and sucked at the skin just below your pulsepoint, leaving a mark for you to admire later. She sped up her movements inside of you and eagerly rubbed your aching clit.

“Yubin, I’m–” you struggled out, tightly shutting your eyes. 

“Cum, baby,” she directed. 

Unable to hold out any longer, you let yourself go, falling into paradise. You sunk your teeth into her shoulder to muffle your whines, and she herself moaned at the sensation. 

The man passed by mere seconds after, obliviously nodding in your direction as his eyes sought yours in the dark. 

Your body was still tingling as it recovered from the high of your orgasm.

“Morning, ladies,” he said. 

“Morning,” you both responded in unison, sounding so out of breath it made you laugh together afterward. 

Once he had officially disappeared, you kissed the bite mark on Dami's shoulder as a silent way of apologizing. She smiled as she eased her fingers out of you, making more of a mess in your panties on the way. 

“Told you I could get you off,” she whispered through a grin, and kissed your cheek. 

You’d never been quite so grateful for the dark. 

[charlotteking23]

Can I request any headcanon or Oneshot of Batmom calling the Batfamily by their names? Batmom always calls them nicknames (sweetie, babybird or somenthing), so the Battys think she's upset.

Sorry if it's written wrong or it is not understood!! My main language is not English 😓😓

sure I would love to.

NICKNAMES

Early in the morning, Batmom lies there in her bed staring at the wall. At 6 in the morning, no one was awake except for the infamous Batman sitting next to her.

"Honey, what's wrong why are you up?" To Bruce, it was very unusual to see her up early for she had a habit of sleeping till 10 in the morning.

"Nothing Bruce", and Batmom stood up from her bed and left for the bathroom.

"SHIT, SHIT! what did I do?"

that's all he could think because she NEVER called him Bruce unless she was upset at him. He thinks of all the things he had done the latest skipping a gala and lying to her about an emergency when he was really hanging out with Superman and Wonderwomen.

Batmom came out of the bathroom and left towards the kitchen. There Tim sat at the table with a huge cup of coffee in his hand. He expected a hi or hello but nothing just an awkward silence.

"Hey Mom", but she grunted and said, "hi Tim."

OH MY GOSH, Tim was in complete panic, forgetting about his coffee. She always calls me Timmy, Fuck what did he do?

Finally, Dick comes and sees Tim in complete panic. "What's wrong with you?"

All Tim does is point. To Dick's shock, he points at his mother. Dick thought nothing of it and greeted his mom and gave her a hug like every morning. But to his surprise, His mom didn't greet him back nor return the hug.

"Mama, are you okay? I am fine Dick"

What where's my nickname. Dick looks at Tim and Tim just looks completely horrified. He sees his mom leave and goes back upstairs.

"Alright, Tim fess up what did you do?" said dick. "Me this could have been easily you, Maybe Mom found out about you breaking her very expensive vase," Tim said defending himself. "Well, it's not like you are innocent, Mom probably found out that you're the one who's been finishing all her expensive French coffee," Dick said as a comeback.

"Alright Dickhead, why is mom so angry?" Jason comes walking behind him, "I have no clue she's been acting strange all morning AND SHE DIDN'T CALL ME BY MY NICKNAME," Dick says wiping his tears.

jason says, "Huh same, she usually calls me Baby Bird but she just stood there staring at me". "Maybe, Jason, she found out how you snook out to patrol even though you are grounded," Tim says. Jason says in response, probably... "WAIT how did you know about that Tim. I Know everything... you have cameras around the house don't you Tim," Dick said. "Maybe, Idk", Tim said with an evil grin.

"Okay, guys come on let's go upstairs and apologize to whatever we did," Dick said. "Fine Dickh"-, Jason said but was interrupted... AHHHHHHHHH

"what the hell! I think my eardrum exploded," said Tim

"come on guys, someone could be in trouble," Dick said. "Okay, dickhead calm down," Jason says.

"Damian what's wrong, Ummi said Damian instead of Dami. What did you idiots do this time?"

"Hold on demon spawn we didn't do anything let's ask Dad," Tim suggested.

"Dad, what's happening with mom?" Dick says

"I don't know Dick your mother has been acting weird since this morning and she even woke up early like 6 in the morning early." [GASP], Bruce answers.

"Damn, what the hell did we do?" Damian says.

"shut up demon spawn, I am trying to think," Jason continues.

"Hi, kids... MOM/UMMI!!," Batmom says out of nowhere.

"Kids, I am very disappointed in you," Batmom continues

"But mom we don't even know what we did wrong," dick said, and collectively everyone said yeah.

"Sweethearts, why is there a FUCKING COW on my lawn," Batmom yelled out.

"OHHHHHHHH, yeah Mom we all decided to get a cow," Dick answered truthfully. "Shhhhh dickhead don't get me involved," Jason says slapping Dick behind his head

"Well, I am so glad you told me what happened, so here you go," Batmom says while handing everyone a paper.

"What's this Honey?" Bruce said while taking the paper in his hand

"well, that's the list of chores and you all are grounded for a month!!!" Batmom said yelling.

"WAIT, DOES THAT MEAN I AM GROUNDED FOR TWO MONTHS STRAIGHT", Jason shouted in fear.

"No, Babybird, you all are grounded for two more months since you all exposed yourself when trying to figure out why I was upset with you guys", Batmom said with her hands on her hips.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!," Jason shouted.

[heqvenlymoons]

That One, I Want That One

Based on @fleursroses 's incorrect quote! <3

This is being posted as a oneshot on both my AO3 account and here on tumblr for now but I'm seriously considering turning it into a multi-chaptered fic because how well it was received. Someone said it had rom com potential and I can see it 😭

Daminette One Shot | Crack Fic | AO3

Damian tugged on the collar of his great dane, Titus, trying to get away from his imbecile brothers. 

It was a futile endeavour, as his brothers merely sped up their walking pace, talking over one another. 

“Come on, Dami! We just wanna know,” Richard— Grayson, because he was currently being a nuisance— whined. 

Todd scoffed, waving around the toy Nerf gun he insisted on bringing. “You know what? The brat’s probably better off without a wife, god forbid whoever gets stuck with him forever. I bet you, the little shit’s gonna be the one blackmailing someone into being his wife if he sees fit.” 

“Fuck you, Todd.” Damian’s fingers itched to grab his katana and slit it over his idiotic brother’s throat but at last, his father and pseudo grandfather figure, Alfred, had confiscated the knives he tried to sneak out on their business trip to Paris. 

Drake sipped on his coffee, his head bobbing up and down as he struggled to stay awake, even as he mumbled an incoherent, “You’re never going to get an answer if you aggravate him like that, Jay. Although I’d still like to know as well.” 

He hadn’t finished his sentence when he stumbled into a nearby pedestrian, almost kissing the ground had Todd not grabbed him by the collar at the last second.

During the mishap, the coffee cup Drake was holding spilled onto the floor, seeping into the ground as he stared at it with mournful eyes. “My coffee!” 

Todd rolled his eyes, letting go of the sleep-deprived Drake’s collar with an unsympathetic pat on the shoulder.

Damian’s lips curved up to a smirk. Perhaps that would keep Drake quiet for a few minutes as he mourned his spilled coffee. 

Unfortunately, that didn’t stop Grayson or Todd from their irritating line of questioning his so-called ‘love life’. 

Damian glared when Grayson pulled out the puppy doll eyes, accompanied by his repeated question, “Come on, please? Just answer the question— what’s your ideal type?” 

“Repeating the question with that pathetic expression of yours does not make me any more inclined to answer your question.” Damian spotted a bakery up ahead and approached it, ignoring Grayson’s pout. 

Perhaps his dingbat brothers would behave themselves in an embellishment full of people, although that would be wishful thinking on his part. 

His brothers, of course, followed him and continued to push their relentless questions onto him 

Todd grabbed his arm, stopping him, a glint of glee in his eyes, no doubt finding amusement in his current predicament. “You know, we’re not going to stop bothering you until you tell us.” 

Damian’s brows furrowed in annoyance, knowing full well from experience that his brothers would not stop poking and prodding until he did what they wanted. 

Right now, they wanted to know his ideal type, and they claimed his answer was to sedate their ever-growing ‘curiosity’ when he knew they wanted to utilize the information to set him up with someone. 

He scowled, making his decision. He would tell them only to make them stop badgering him about the inane question but that didn’t mean he was open to the idea of a relationship with someone they chose for him 

“Fine. My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized. You imbeciles better not utilize this information to set me up with someone or I will stab you.” He hissed, sending them his most intimidating glare for good measure. 

Todd dared to smirk at him. “Not likely, Demon Spawn. And even if we did, you won’t stab us. You’re all bark and no bite.” 

In response, Damian kicked him in the knee, making the older double over with a grunt. 

Before he could continue his assault, Grayson dragged him away, Todd spitting curses from where he lay on the ground in a starfish position, the Nerf gun on the ground beside him. 

Grayson was already wearing the contemplative expression he had on whenever he was about to do something stupid. “Okay~ that’s enough, little D. Back to what we were discussing, your future girlfriend has to be brave, strong, and smart, you say?” 

Damian gritted his teeth. “You are paraphrasing at best but I assume you already got the general idea because I am not going to repeat myself for your benefit.” 

He turned and before he could turn the door handle of the bakery to continue his dramatic exit (or in this case, dramatic entry), the door flew open and it would’ve hit him in the face had it not been for his quick reflexes.

The scowl reappeared on his face and he turned back to reprimand the person who dared try to attack him with a door to see a girl about his age, shuffling past his bewildered brothers in a hurry. 

Damian blinked, watching as the girl with raven-haired pigtails promptly tripped over nothing, crashing into the pole, the box she was holding fell from her hands and macaroons came tumbling out. 

He watched with interest as the girl mumbled out apologies to the inanimate object, picking up the fallen macaroons from the ground while she did and putting them back in the box. 

Snapping out of his daze, he handed Titus’s leash to Grayson before moving to help the girl, grabbing the remains of the macaroons from the ground and placing them in a neat row in the box.

He held out a hand for the girl to take, which she accepted with a grateful look and he pulled her to her feet. 

Getting a good look at her face, he was filled with a fluttering sensation in his stomach and he ignored it, thinking he must be coming down with a stomach bug. “Are you alright? That was quite a fall.”

Her bluebell eyes were blown wide, staring into his green ones with surprise. She broke the stare first, shaking her head before responding, “I’m fine! Thank you for your help, I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Her phone dinged and she yelped. “I’m sorry but I’m already late, see you around, mysterious handsome but kind person!”  

He opened his mouth to respond but she had already sped away, only catching sight of her red face as she turned.

His face heated as his mind caught up with her words. The girl was definitely something… 

He felt an arm going around his shoulders and he didn’t react, still staring in the direction the girl took off. 

“So, didn’t know Demon Spawn had it in him to talk to a pretty girl without scowling,” Todd drawled, the beginning of a teasing expression appearing on his face when he noticed the dazed look his youngest brother was sporting. 

Damian shoved him away, looking distracted.

Drake shook his head, mumbling, “I must be hallucinating, Demon Spawn would never willingly talk to someone, much less a girl.” 

“That one. I want that one.” Damian declared, unknowingly sending his adopted brothers into cardiac arrest at the words that fell out of his mouth. 

Grayson looked torn between looking wary and gleeful. “Uh… what do you mean by ‘that one’, little D?” 

Damian didn’t look at him as he pointed in the direction the girl ran off. “Her.” 

Todd’s jaws gaped like a fish, for once, speechless. 

Drake in his sleep-deprived state can only dumbly respond, “That’s not how it works, Damian. You can’t just go around adopting people.”

Damian finally dragged his gaze away from the direction the girl had long run off in, glaring at his brothers with his cheeks blazing red. “Not adoption, you imbecile.”

Not giving them the time to respond, he continued, a look of stress crossing his expression before he willed it away. “You lot have to keep Father from adopting her, it would cause complications.”

Grayson hummed. “She does meet the criteria, black hair and blue eyes.”

Todd seemed to have unfrozen, shaking his head in denial. “Wait wait wait, just wait a second. You’re saying, she’s your ideal type? You literally met her 5 minutes ago! I thought you said your future partner must be and I quote ‘brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized’?” 

He prattled on, not paying attention to how Titus had taken to getting slobber all over his shoes. “No offence to her but she tripped over air and crashed into the poll in front of her. The clumsy behaviour caught your eye of all things? Are you sure you haven’t been abducted by aliens?” 

Damian glared, the red not receding from his face. He rounded on Drake. “Do a full background check on her, it is necessary for me to know everything about her if she were to be my partner.”

He paused, scowling. “Actually, I better do this myself. I need to know everything about her, it is better if you imbeciles stay as far away from her as possible. She does not need you all to monopolize her time.” 

He grabbed Titus’s leash from Grayson and headed in the direction of Le Grand Paris to do just that, leaving behind his shell-shocked brothers. 

Jason turned to his brothers, looking amused now that he had gotten over his shock. “So, who’s gonna tell him that stalking is not the right way to woo a girl?” 

[vinelark]

Hi I feel like you always have the best batfam fic recs, so I was wondering if you have any recs for any Dick and Tim bonding fics (especially fics that deal with the fallout of Dick giving Robin to Dami)?

hi! so glad you like the recs, i'm always happy to give them 🥰  every time a friend expresses even a passing interest in one of my fav characters i have to stop myself from like, creating a fic rec spreadsheet on the spot.

that said, i got stumped by the second part of this one. i was like oh yes definitely, i totally have read fics for that, and then…could not dig any up from my brain or my bookmarks. i feel like there's a fic on the tip of my tongue, but in the meanwhile, if anyone has any tim & dick red robin reconciliation recs (holy tongue twister, batman) i too would love to see them!

and here are some tim & dick recs in general:

🎄 only you will have stars that can laugh by silverwhittlingknife

set early in tim’s tenure as robin; dick realizes tim is about to be alone on christmas, and they end up spending the holiday together. i love how tentative both dick and tim are about this for different (and at times similar) reasons, and how heartwarming and cozy it ends up being. lots of reflection on family in all its forms and a really good tim & dick dynamic.

🚗 I’d Fly Far Away From Here by Sohotthateveryonedied

in a somewhat similar vein, a oneshot set during tim’s robin era in which tim hitchhikes to blüdhaven after a fight with his dad. dick and tim are two people who technically aren’t brothers yet by law but already are at heart, which doesn’t make it any easier to navigate conversations about tim’s home life or either of their relationship with bruce. (they make it work, though.)

🩹 Not So Large But Definitely In Charge by dottie_dc

tim and dick get tossed into an alternate gotham where there’s no batman or justice league, but find their way to bruce and alfred anyway. this has great tim-under-pressure pov, and the amount that he and dick care about each other even through their arguments is palpable. there’s also a fantastic (and at times gut-wrenching) sequel by JackHawksmoor focusing more on dick & the bruce of this different world. (cw for: past major character death aka alternate universe dick grayson)

🤖 Very Pleasing to My Optical Sensors by waffleelrond

another early robin!tim fic, in which tim gets injured and dick steps in to translate bruce's bruceness about it. it's tentative and sweet and a little silly, and a great bite-sized fic to read when you want to see the two of them just starting out as brothers.

🌌 To an Athlete Dying Young series by SonoSvegliato

at a glance from the summaries this appears like a tim & jason + tim & bruce series (and it is!), but the tim & dick scenes land it on this list for sure. i'm a broken record here with the early-robin!tim & dick recs but man i love them here; in the second fic there's a sequence where dick is teaching tim how to grapple across rooftops that sticks in my mind as one of my top favorite bonding moments for them. (heads up that the series currently ends on a cliffhanger—it's not finished yet!)

🦉 the once and future robin by AstraEllis

and as proof that i can in fact rec something other than early-robin!tim, here's an au where instead of becoming batman's robin tim ends up adopting a talon!dick grayson from another universe as his older brother. and becoming his robin. and then finding his way to the batfamily. i'm fascinated by the tim and alternate-universe-talon!dick relationship in this, and the questions of identity/personhood that it tackles by virtue of the story it is telling. plus, talon!dick's connection to robin as a concept despite the alternate universe aspect is really sweet.

also circling back to red robin reconciliation, i do have these two longfics open in my many tabs to read/finish; both tackle the post-rr era and the dick & tim of it all in their larger plots, so i'll toss in Extant by Kgraces and The Return by lurkinglurkerwholurks to check out too!

[batboysoneshots]

Koala Hug

Saw this idea and had to write it!

Summary: Dick introduces damian to some cartoons and damian sees a kid do the koala leg cling thing on a adult and has been doing it to bruce ever since.

When questioned, he just claims it helps him get to where he wants to go around the manor faster and that bruce is the only one strong enough to carry his weight.

Bruce doesn't question it, because his baby boy is acting his age and being silly/cute.

Thought this would be a cute idea.

Third person pov...

Dick decided that his little Brother needs to have a childhood, the next week he made Damian watch lots of different cartoons with him.

Dick was expecting to kid to tell him no but actually wanted to watch them, so they sat on the lounge and watched cartoons.

After they started watching them Damian became obsessed with the koala hug the kids do to their parents, over the next few days Damian nervously stared over at his father.

He wanted to koala hug him bit was to nervous to ask such a childish thing off him. An idea came to him one day, the boys were playing hide and seek Damian was running around trying tk find somewhere to hide.

"95 96 97 98 99 100!" Yells Dick from upstairs he was the seeker, Tim , Jason and Damian where the hiders, the 11 year old wonders down into the cave hoping to find somewhere to to hide.

There he finds Bruce, the man had just got back from a meeting with the league and was still in his Bat suit, Damian wondered closer. His footsteps made Bruce look up and over his shoulder.

He softens his expression and smiles at his son. "Damian" he says the boy nods his head at the man. "Father" he says and looks around for somewhere to hide.

Bruce sees the worried expression on his son. "What's wrong Son?" He asks he boy  suddenly Dicks voice can be heard. "Dami! Where are youuuu!" He screeches, echoing in thr cave.

Damian winces at the horrible sound and Bruce instantly understands. "Hide and seek right" he says the boy nods his head, Bruce then thinks of somewhere for Damian to hide.

Hearing footsteps he motions the boy over. "Get under there" he whispers motioning to under the table, Damian looks at him with wide eyes before crawling underneath the Batcomputer by Bruce's legs.

Bruce then makes sure he was covers by his Cape resumed typing something into the computer, Damain was frozen not sure what he should do. He shivered the cave was cold.

Looking at his father's legs he remembered the koala hug he wanted to try. Slowly he moved closer, jumping slightly when his elder brothers footsteps got closer he wrapped his arms and legs around his father's and instantly became warmer.

He felt the man tense at first then relax, Damian relaxed with him, comfortable holding onto the legs like a koala. Woth Bruce he tried to not smile as he felt the young boy relax holding his legs.

Behind him Dick came into the cave. "Damians not here Chum" he tells the elder boy, Dick just hums to himself and looks around for 10 minutes before leaving to find Damian.

Of course he didn't think the boy would be hiding under the Batcomputer. Damian eventually fell asleep holding onto Bruce's legs just like he wanted.

After that game of hide and seek Damian has been doing it to bruce ever since.

When questioned, he just claims it helps him get to where he wants to go around the manor faster and that bruce is the only one strong enough to carry his weight.

Bruce didn't mind he was jsut happy his baby was acting like the child he was and was being cute.

The end!

Hope you liked this oneshot, Sorry for any grammar and Spelling mistakes.

Request are open!

Word count: 666

[lapseinrecs]

Halfway Gone

By blade_that_was_broken @blade-that-was-broken

On Archive of Our Own

Status: Complete; Oneshot; 1,342 words

Summary: Damian came to her about his theory and Stephanie believed him. After all, he was their Batman.

My thoughts: Dick haunts the narrative, but he isn’t actually here. I am always a big supporter of Steph and Dami friendship.

[ao3feed-superbat]

I like you. I love you. (A SuperBat confession oneshot)

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/pc9x8eL by Iidas_Wife_Persey Movie nights are a big thing in the Wayne household. Clark gets roped into spending the night with Bruce's family while he internally debates whether or not to tell his coworker and best friend his true feelings towards him. Or Clark realizes that he likes Bruce and tells him after watching a movie with Bruce's family. (This is honestly one of my better pics I've done so far.) Words: 2638, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 1 of Creator's SuperBat Fics Fandoms: DCU, DCU (Comics), Justice League - All Media Types, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain, Duke Thomas, Damian Wayne, Original Child(ren) of Bruce Wayne Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Superman/Batman Additional Tags: Clark Kent and Kon-El | Conner Kent are Siblings, Divorced Clark Kent, Bruce is a good dad sometimes, Superman is divorced from Lois Lane, No Jon x Dami in this AU, Bruce Wayne is a softie when it comes to love, Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent, Clark Kent Loves Bruce Wayne, Bisexual Clark Kent, Bisexual Bruce Wayne read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/pc9x8eL

[sicariodechinchulines]

Does little big boy knows how to swim?

my newly obsession is "Little Big Boy" from Madds Bucley, it´s SO damian, it´s DESERVE a oneshot, dAMNIT-

also, i think kajal looks so charming on men that i needed to draw dami with kajal... the thing is it can´t be cleary appreciated.

[linkemon]

Vanitas x Reader x Noé Archiviste

Resztę oneshotów z tej i innych serii możesz przeczytać tutaj. Zajrzyj też na moje Ko-fi.

Some of these oneshots are already translated into English. You can find them here.

ᴘʀᴀᴄᴜᴊᴀ̨ᴄᴀ ᴡ ʀᴇᴢʏᴅᴇɴᴄᴊɪ [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ᴘᴏᴋᴏᴊᴏ́ᴡᴋᴀ ᴍᴀɴᴏɴ ᴏʙsᴇʀᴡᴜᴊᴇ ᴡʏᴅᴀʀᴢᴇɴɪᴀ ʀᴏᴢɢʀʏᴡᴀᴊᴀ̨ᴄᴇ sɪᴇ̨ ᴅᴏᴋᴏᴌᴀ ᴊᴇᴊ ᴘᴀɴɪᴇɴᴋɪ ɪ ᴅᴡᴏ́ᴄʜ ᴅᴢɪᴡɴʏᴄʜ ᴍᴇ̨ᴢ̇ᴄᴢʏᴢɴ, ᴋᴛᴏ́ʀᴢʏ ɴᴀɢʟᴇ ᴘᴏᴊᴀᴡɪʟɪ sɪᴇ̨ ᴡ ᴊᴇᴊ ᴢ̇ʏᴄɪᴜ, ᴘʀᴢʏɴᴏsᴢᴀ̨ᴄ ᴢᴇ sᴏʙᴀ̨ ᴋᴌᴏᴘᴏᴛʏ.

ᴅᴏᴅᴀᴛᴋᴏᴡᴇ ɪɴғᴏʀᴍᴀᴄᴊᴇ:

ᴏɴᴇsʜᴏᴛ ᴊᴇsᴛ ᴘɪsᴀɴʏ ɴᴀ ᴘᴏᴅsᴛᴀᴡɪᴇ ᴘᴏʟsᴋɪᴇɢᴏ ᴡʏᴅᴀɴɪᴀ ᴍᴀɴɢɪ ᴡ ᴢᴡɪᴀ̨ᴢᴋᴜ ᴢ ᴛʏᴍ ᴘʀᴢʏᴊᴇ̨ᴌᴀᴍ ғʀᴀɴᴄᴜsᴋᴀ̨ ᴘɪsᴏᴡɴɪᴇ̨ ɪᴍɪᴏɴ, ɴᴀᴢᴡɪsᴋ, ɴᴀᴢᴡ ᴡᴌᴀsɴʏᴄʜ, ᴡsᴛᴀᴡᴇᴋ ɪᴛᴅ. ᴊᴀᴋ ɴᴀsɪ ᴛᴌᴜᴍᴀᴄᴢᴇ.

ᴍᴀʟɴᴏᴍᴇɴ ᴘʀᴢᴇᴅsᴛᴀᴡɪᴏɴʏ ᴡ sʜᴏᴄɪᴇ ᴢᴏsᴛᴀᴌ ᴡʏᴍʏśʟᴏɴʏ ɴᴀ ᴊᴇɢᴏ ᴘᴏᴛʀᴢᴇʙʏ ɪ ᴘᴏᴅᴀ̨ᴢ̇ᴀ ᴢᴀ ᴏɢᴏ́ʟɴʏᴍɪ ᴢᴀsᴀᴅᴀᴍɪ ɴᴀ ᴘᴏᴅsᴛᴀᴡɪᴇ ᴋᴛᴏ́ʀʏᴄʜ ᴊᴜɴ ᴍᴏᴄʜɪᴢᴜᴋɪ ᴛᴡᴏʀᴢʏᴌᴀ ᴋᴀᴢ̇ᴅᴀ̨ ᴢ ᴏᴅᴍɪᴀɴ ᴛᴇᴊ ᴄʜᴏʀᴏʙʏ ᴅᴏ ᴛᴇᴊ ᴘᴏʀʏ. ᴢᴏsᴛᴀᴌʏ ᴍɪ ᴅᴏsᴌᴏᴡɴɪᴇ ᴅᴡɪᴇ ʙᴀśɴɪᴇ ᴘᴇʀʀᴀᴜʟᴛᴀ, ᴋᴛᴏ́ʀᴇ ᴊᴇsᴢᴄᴢᴇ ᴡ sᴇʀɪɪ ɴɪᴇ ʙʏᴌʏ ᴜᴢ̇ʏᴛᴇ, ᴡɪᴇ̨ᴄ ʙʏᴌᴀᴍ sᴋᴀᴢᴀɴᴀ ɴᴀ ᴛᴀ̨ ɴᴀᴊʙᴀʀᴅᴢɪᴇᴊ sᴢᴛᴀᴍᴘᴏᴡᴀ̨ ᴢ ᴍᴏᴢ̇ʟɪᴡʏᴄʜ.

— Panienko [Reader]! — zawołała Manon, starając się brzmieć dyskretnie.  

Rozejrzała się w tłumie zakupowiczów, próbując nie zapomnieć żadnej torby. Kapelusz, parasolka, nowy zestaw kokard i jeszcze… Sarkastycznie pogratulowała sobie w myślach tego, że ostatnia paczka została w sklepie. Nie miała na to teraz czasu. Przypadkowa dorożka z rozpędem śmignęła tuż przed nią, prawie pozbawiając ją życia. Głośny stukot kopyt o brukowaną ulicę zmieszał się z panującym gwarem. Pokojówka niespokojnie przedarła się do bocznej uliczki, ocierając czoło. W dodatku jak na złość była głodna.  

Tak to właśnie musiało się skończyć. Zawsze nabierała się na to, że młoda panienka tym razem na pewno odchodzi tylko na chwilkę. To nigdy nie była chwilka! Spuszczała ją z oka, by cokolwiek załatwić, i już jej nie było. Lubiła swoją pracę, ale czasem to bieganie w panice ją przerastało. Oczywiście sama zainteresowana zawsze uspokajała ją, że przecież nic jej nie jest, ale kto tam mógł wiedzieć, co będzie za kolejnym razem? W Altus zapewne nikt nie odważyłby się jej zagrozić, ale w Paryżu sprawy miały się inaczej.  

[Reader] pracowała jako ktoś w rodzaju zakulisowego dyplomaty, podróżując między Altusem a Paryżem. Nie występowała oficjalnie jak jej kuzyn, lord Ruthven. Wyprawiała bankiety, zapoznawała ze sobą wpływowych ludzi i wampirów, a także rozsiewała plotki i tuszowała stojące na drodze do pokoju drobnostki. Manon doskonale zdawała sobie sprawę z tego, że jej panienka, choć starała się nie wychylać poza bezpieczne kręgi, mogła znaleźć się któregoś dnia w niebezpieczeństwie. Wszystko z powodu swojego kuzyna, który niejako zaprzągł ją do pracy poprzez jej rodziców zaraz po tym, jak zawiedli go jego uczniowie. Czuła, że choć [Reader] jest sprawie bardzo oddana (wbrew swej woli, ale jednak), lord August z pewnością tego nie odwzajemnia. Nigdy nie wysłał nikogo do ochrony, co z pewnością mógłby uczynić ze swoimi wpływami. Prawdą jednak było, że gdy tylko ktoś o tym wspominał, panienka głośno przeciwko temu protestowała, ku niezadowoleniu pokojówki.  

— O nie — zaklęła niezbyt cicho Manon — znowu ten konował!  

— O nie, to znowu ta wiedźma! — przedrzeźnił ją Vanitas.  

Mogła się spodziewać, że panienka jakimś cudem wyląduje w jego towarzystwie. Rozmawiała o nim i jego towarzyszu z pracownikami hrabiego Parksa Orloka. O ile trudno było przynajmniej nie kojarzyć rodu Archiviste, o tyle Vanitas był dla niej niejako zagadką. Jego zachcianki przeczyły naturalnym zachowaniom ludzi. Fakt, że mieszał się w nie swoje sprawy, wzbudzał niechęć.  

Zlustrowała Vanitasa od stóp do głów. Co też jej panienka w nim widziała? Czarne włosy i błękitne oczy. Może i był przystojny, ale na tym zdaniem Manon można było zakończyć listę pozytywnych cech. Nie dość, że człowiek, to jeszcze szalony!  

— Moglibyście choć raz spróbować się dogadać — westchnęła [Reader].  

Kobieta zatrzęsła się lekko. Zimny wiatr przetoczył się po ulicy. Vanitas nie tracił czasu i zamaszyście przesadnym ruchem zdjął z siebie czarny płaszcz. Zarzucił go na ramiona damy, posyłając firmowy flirciarski uśmiech. Zaraz potem dyskretnie wystawił język pokojówce. Jeśli były momenty, w których Manon miała szczerą ochotę skorzystać ze swoich wampirzych umiejętności, to był to właśnie jeden z nich. Rzuciła spojrzenie na delikatny uśmiech panienki i zgrzytając zębami, powstrzymała rychłą wizję morderstwa.  

— Gdzie monsieur Archiviste? — spytała pokojówka, spoglądając w kierunku hotelu Chouchou.  

Nie była to zbyt subtelna zmiana tematu, ale na nic lepszego nie wpadła.  

— Noé zaspał. Mieliśmy wczoraj ciężką noc — stwierdził lekarz.  

Zapewne znów wpakowali się w jakieś kłopoty. Jak znała życie, niedługo gdzieś o nich usłyszy.  

— W takim razie nie będziemy go budzić. — [Reader] wyjęła zapieczętowane koperty z niewielkiej torebki. — Chciałam oficjalnie zaprosić was na przyjęcie.  

Uwadze Manon nie umknął brak użycia tytułu monsieur. Ileż zdążyła przegapić? Przecież oni wszyscy nie znali się tak długo. Najbardziej martwiła się o to, że wciągną [Reader] w swoje skomplikowane sprawy. Rodzice panienki pokładali nadzieje w jej opiece nad nią. Jakże mogłaby się przed nimi stawić, gdyby zawiodła?  

— Ostatnia impreza, na jakiej byliśmy, skończyła się skandalem — zaśmiał się Vanitas.  

Manon poczuła, jak jej oko mimowolnie zadrżało ze złości. Tak się spoufalać z jej panienką…  

— To nie będzie nic wielkiego. Zapraszam głównie ludzi i kilkunastu zasymilowanych wampirów. Nie sądzę, żebyś mógł mieć z tego powodu kłopoty — zapewniła gospodyni.  

Oczywiście nie zamierzała ich uświadomić, jakim zaszczytem było to zaproszenie. Pokojówka westchnęła głośno w duchu. Zapewne sami się nie zorientują.  

— W takim razie przyjdziemy na pewno!  

— Dokąd idziemy? — Uszu zebranych dobiegł zaspany głos Noé.  

Ubrany cały w biel, nie licząc czarnej koszuli, wręcz oślepiał w blasku dnia. Słońce zdawało się odbijać od jego nienagannie czystego cylindra. Ilekroć Manon widziała go obok konowała, zastanawiała się, jakim cudem dwie tak różne osoby w ogóle ze sobą wytrzymują.  

Archiviste pocierał zaspane oczy, zaciekawiony sytuacją. Zza jego nóg wyskoczył Murr — równie śnieżnobiały jak jego pan kot. Grube łapki umożliwiły mu w kilku zręcznych susach znaleźć się przed [Reader]. Ta wzięła go na ręce, poprawiła fioletową kokardkę i zaczęła miarowo głaskać.  

— Kto jest najpiękniejszy?  

— Miau — odpowiedział Murr. Czy było to pytanie, potwierdzenie, czy zaprzeczenie, tego nie dało się stwierdzić.  

To była jedyna część tego dziwnego zespołu, co do której pokojówka nie miała żadnych zastrzeżeń. Był na szczęście tylko kotem i trzymał się z daleka od kłopotów.  

— Organizujesz przyjęcie? — upewnił się Noé, czytając zaproszenie.  

W jego oczach pojawił się blask ekscytacji.  

— Dokładnie. Vanitas powiedział, że przyjdziecie. Mam nadzieję, że to potwierdzisz. Na pewno znacie kilka osób, które się pojawią. Przede wszystkim Dominique de Sade — stwierdziła [Reader].  

— Będzie Domi? — Archiviste wyraźnie się rozpromienił. — A będzie może tarta tatin?  

— Dodamy ją do menu specjalnie z myślą o was. — [Reader] uśmiechnęła się. — A teraz wybaczcie, ale myślę, że pora na nas. Inaczej Manon wychodzi dziurę z niecierpliwości — to mówiąc, spojrzała karcąco na pokojówkę.  

Ze smutkiem odłożyła Murra na bruk, oddała płaszcz, po czym zawróciła w kierunku, z którego przybyła.  

Uwadze panienki mógł umknąć maślany wzrok rzucony przez Noégo, gdy odchodziły. Manon żyła wystarczająco długo, by wiedzieć, że nie spowodowała go jedynie wizja przyszłego deseru.  

***  

Manon pamiętała swoje pierwsze próby podsłuchu. Na samym początku pracy, gdy jeszcze nie do końca rozumiała, jak działa świat, i miała opory przed naruszaniem cudzej prywatności. To nie tak, że panienka nie wiedziała, że jej służąca nasłuchuje jej rozmów. Po prostu zakładała, że robi to rzadko. Rzadziej niż to odbywało się w rzeczywistości.  

— Piękny zachód słońca, prawda?  

— Och! To ty… — [Reader] odwróciła głowę z powrotem w stronę paryskiego widoku.  

Manon nie musiała widzieć, by słyszeć w głosie panienki, że nie tego mężczyznę oczekiwała tu zobaczyć. To Vanitas włóczył się po wysokich miejscach. Najczęściej nieproszony. Szczególnie upodobał sobie tę wieżę zegarową. Została zbudowana w pobliżu posiadłości na długo przed tym, jak pokojówka zaczęła tu pracować. Poprzedni właściciele nie dbali o nią i powoli popadała w ruinę. [Reader] odmówiła remontu, twierdząc, że woli ją w obecnym stanie. Tak więc szary kamień porastał bluszczem, a część witraży wypadła pod naporem silnych wichur. Na szczęście goście zawsze uznawali to za interesującą odmianę, nie zaś za zaniedbanie.  

— Z pewnością jest to idealna pogoda na przyjęcie — przytaknęła [Reader].  

Powoli machała nogami nad przepaścią. Tył ciężkiej sukni spoczywał na kamiennej podłodze. Nie była to zbytnio wytworna pozycja do siedzenia. Szczególnie dla gospodyni nadchodzącej zabawy.  

Noé dołączył do niej, zachowując stosowną odległość.  

— Przyszedłem podziękować. — Mężczyzna w niepewności podrapał się po karku.  

— Tarta była aż tak smaczna? — zażartowała [Reader].  

Kilka sztuk zostało wysłanych do hotelu Chouchou na kilka dni przed przyjęciem.  

— Nie! To znaczy tak! Nie o to chodzi… — zmieszał się Archiviste. — Chodzi o to, jak panienka… to znaczy ty… jak nas ostatnio uratowałaś.  

A więc jednak jeszcze nie znają się aż tak dobrze , stwierdziła Manon. Skoro wciąż nie czuł się na tyle komfortowo, by używać tylko imienia, nie było całkowitej tragedii. Obawiała się jednak, że Vanitas nie ma takich skrupułów.  

— To nic takiego. Cieszę się, że wyszliście z tego cało.  

To była sytuacja, po której Manon najadła się strachu. Nie dość, że spuściła panienkę z oka, to jeszcze ta wpakowała się prosto w niebezpieczeństwo. Oczywiście wampirze umiejętności [Reader] nie były tylko i wyłącznie na pokaz. Zarażony malnomenem chory został pokonany i uleczony zanim choroba zmieniła go w bestię. Jednak z tego, co udało się pokojówce dowiedzieć, wynikało, że nie zawsze się to udawało. Niepochamowana żądza krwi wywoływała najgorsze instynkty.  

Nastała chwila ciszy. [Reader] wpatrywała się w oświetlony złotym blaskiem Paryż. Dzień pracy właśnie się kończył. Paryżanie zamykali lokale, by móc wrócić do domów. Nie licząc ulicznych latarników, którzy powoli rozświetlali okolicę setkami świateł. Delikatny wiatr muskał raz za razem korony niewielkich drzewek, zwiastując czyste nocne niebo. Dorożki zaś pędziły to tu, to tam, rozwożąc pasażerów. Kilka z nich zbliżało się właśnie w stronę rezydencji. Przybrane w ciężkie i kosztowne kreacje damy jechały w towarzystwie zaopatrzonych w cylindry i laski dżentelmenów.  

— Proszę o wybaczenie — zawahał się Noé — ale wyglądasz na strapioną.  

Jego fiołkowe oczy wyrażały głęboką troskę.  

— Można tak powiedzieć. — Zaczęła skubać końcówkę śnieżnobiałej rękawiczki. — Nikomu bym tego nie powiedziała, ale jesteś moim bliskim przyjacielem, więc…  

— Bliskim przyjacielem? — upewnił się Archiviste.  

Zupełnie jakby ta informacja była zaskakująca, a jednocześnie właściwa. Mały uśmiech wykwitł na jego twarzy. Manon po samym głosie mogła założyć się, że się zarumienił.  

— Z moimi koligacjami ciężko znaleźć przyjaciół, którzy nie byliby zainteresowani tylko i wyłącznie koneksjami. Dlatego tak bardzo się ucieszyłam, kiedy poznałam ciebie i Vanitasa.  

Pokojówka przekrzywiła głowę w zamyśleniu. Panienka głęboko w to wierzyła, ale ona przez lata widziała swoje. Pomijając dziwne romantyczne zawirowania, czy ta znajomość na pewno była bezinteresowna?  

— W czym tkwi problem? — spytał Noé.  

— Jest ktoś, kto sprawia, że moje serce przyspiesza z radości — zaczęła kobieta.  

— To… to wspaniale — stwierdził cicho Archiviste.  

Jedno spojrzenie na jego twarz wystarczyłoby, by stwierdzić, że nie do końca uważa to za coś wspaniałego, jednak [Reader] wciąż wpatrywała się w zachodzące słońce.  

— …ale jest już w kimś zakochany. I choć jestem tego świadoma, wciąż łudzę się, że może coś zmienię — westchnęła tęsknie. — Pewnie powinnam chcieć jego szczęścia, ale ciężko mi na duszy, gdy na to patrzę.  

— Na twoim miejscu nie poddawałbym się tak łatwo. — Wampir złapał ją za dłoń, jakby to miało podkreślić wagę jego słów. — Być może któregoś dnia zauważy twoje uczucia i je zrozumie.  

Nastała chwila ciszy. Kobieta wydawała się rozważać jego słowa.  

— Wiesz co? Chyba masz rację. Dziękuję, Noé. — Posłała mu delikatny uśmiech. — Och, poczekaj, masz tu chyba resztkę tarty.  

Archiviste mógł przysiąc, że jego serce przestało bić w momencie, gdy palec spoczął w okolicy jego ust. Wpatrywał się w twarz [Reader]. Przez moment znalazła się na tyle blisko, że mógłby wyliczyć każdą plamkę słońca w jej oczach. Zachód otoczył ją pozłacaną aureolą i do głowy przyszła mu myśl, że jeśli gdzieś faktycznie istniały anioły, to musiała być jednym z nich. Żałował, że nie zjadł kilkunastu tart, by pokryć się większą ilością okruszków. Być może wtedy pozostaliby w tej pozycji choć o sekundę dłużej. Nie było im to jednak dane. Cisza została przerwana.  

Manon upewniła się, że jej ciężkie buty zostaną usłyszane odpowiednio wcześnie. Na tyle, by para zdążyła się od siebie odsunąć.  

— Panienko, już czas — oznajmiła pokojówka, zerkając dyskretnie w stronę wampira.  

— Goście zaraz się zjawią, pora na nas — stwierdziła [Reader], wstając niezbyt zgrabnie, pogrążona w myślach.  

Noé jeszcze przez długi czas pozostał na wieży zegarowej.  

***

Manon czasem żałowała, że jej panienka nie jest w takiej sytuacji, jak Dominique de Sade. Ona również była obciążona szeregiem obowiązków z racji swego pochodzenia. A jednak jej rodzina dawała jej możliwości wyboru w wielu sprawach. Choć przyznać trzeba, że uparty charakter odgrywał tu również dużą rolę. Odzwierciedlał to choćby jej dzisiejszy ubiór. Nawet w takiej sytuacji odmawiała ubioru wieczorowej sukni, zadowalając się swoim odświętnym mundurem.  

Pokojówka zgrabnie lawirowała między gośćmi, roznosząc kolejne kieliszki z szampanem w różanym ogrodzie. Wychyliła jednego po kryjomu. Sama dziwiła się, jak bardzo spragniona była.  

— Myślałam, że się poddasz. — Dominique upiła łyk napoju.  

— To samo mogłabym powiedzieć o tobie. — [Reader] spojrzała na kobietę kątem oka.  

Odpowiedział jej delikatny śmiech, ledwo skryty za światłami lampionów. Była w nim wredna nutka, lecz czegóż innego można się było tam spodziewać?  

— Przyznaję, że byłam bliska rezygnacji, ale ktoś odwiódł mnie od tej decyzji. — Gospodyni przyjęcia zapatrzyła się przed siebie.  

— Hmmm… Nie uważam tego za mądry wybór, ale nie mogę cię potępiać, robiąc dokładnie to samo.  

Nietrudno było się domyślić, że wybrankiem Dominique był Noé. Był to jedyny mężczyzna, którego dopuściła do siebie tak blisko, poza rodziną. Manon nawet nie potrzebowała zbyt długo szukać, by dowiedzieć się, że spędzali dużo czasu razem w dzieciństwie wraz z bliźniakiem Louisem.  

— Co takiego w nim widzisz? — De Sade przekrzywiła głowę w zastanowieniu.  

— Jest jak burza — odparła po chwili [Reader]. — Większość ludzi, gdy widzi burzę, ucieka od niej. Bo jest silna. Gwałtowna. Zwiastuje kłopoty. A jednak jest w niej coś fascynującego. Możesz próbować biec, ale prędzej czy później stracisz dech, a wtedy cię dopadnie. Jedyny problem z nią jest taki, że jest nieprzewidywalna i możesz nie zdążyć się nią nacieszyć.  

Manon westchnęła cicho. A więc jednak nie było odwrotu. Jeśli panienka była w stanie przyznać się do tego na głos, to musiało być poważne.  

— Niektórzy zamiast burz wolą bryzę. Bo jest delikatna. Nawet jeśli może się wydawać, że jej nie ma, to wciąż jest gdzieś obok. Ochładza w trudne dni i wszyscy ją lubią. Jej problemem jest to, jak wielu ma sympatyków. — Wychyliła kieliszek do końca. — Jestem ciekawa, jak poradzisz sobie ze swoją burzą…  

— Myślałam, że już dawno wzięłaś stronę Jeanne — stwierdziła [Reader].  

Jej rywalka zdawała się trzymać serce Vanitasa w mocnym uścisku. I co ciekawe, choć, jak twierdziła bourreau, wcale go nie chciała, nie potrafiła go również od siebie odepchnąć.  

— Nie zrozum mnie źle. Nie biorę niczyjej strony. Bo będąc szczera… to nienawidzę was obu. Chcę zobaczyć, kto wyjdzie zwycięsko z tego starcia. Bo wtedy… być może okaże się, że jest jeszcze nadzieja dla kogoś takiego, jak…  

Jej wzrok mimowolnie powędrował w stronę Noé, który jakby znikąd pojawił się w tłumie. Manon wiedziała, że jeśli jej panienka nie była całkiem świadoma, kto był wybrankiem młodej de Sade do tej pory, teraz musiała się zorientować.  

Odziany jak zawsze w biel, wyróżniał się na tle pozostałych gości. Porozstawiane tego poranka lampiony zdawały się odbijać blaskiem od jego ubrania. Światełka rozwieszone na drzewach jedynie wzmacniały efekt. Kręcił się między bujnymi krzakami róż, zaczepiany kolejno przez różnych gości. Z grzecznym uśmiechem kiwał głową bez zainteresowania, by za moment ich opuścić. Szukał kogoś. I z pewnością nie była to wpatrująca się w niego Domi. Gdy jednak już się na nią natknął, nie potrafił jej zostawić.  

Jego prawdziwa poszukiwana znajdowała się już daleko. Zgrabnym ruchem odłożyła kieliszek na jedną z wolnych tac, a potem niespiesznym krokiem dołączyła do tańczących.  

Vanitas jak zwykle stanowił dokładny kontrast do swojego znajomego. Odziany w granatowo-czarny strój, topił się w ciemnościach nocy. Gdyby nie światła, zapewne zniknąłby całkowicie, nie licząc jego tak ludzko błękitnych oczu.  

— Odbijany! — [Reader] zgrabnym ruchem przejęła dłoń Vanitasa tuż przed rozpoczęciem następnego tańca.  

Skoro Jeanne nie było na tym przyjęciu, mogła to przynajmniej wykorzystać.  

— Ach! Zostałem pozbawiony partnerki, co teraz zrobię? — zawołał dramatycznie mężczyzna, czym zyskał sobie śmiech kilku gości dookoła.  

Delikatna, grana na pianinie muzyka popłynęła znów przez ogród. Mężczyzna przyciągnął [Reader] delikatnie do siebie w talii. W momentach takich jak ten mogła przynajmniej próbować się oszukiwać, że ma szansę wygrać. W końcu zdawał się szczerze uśmiechać. Kroki były lekkie, ale pewne. Delikatny brzęk jego kolczyka miarowo odmierzał czas. Kosmyki włosów związane wstążką wirowały wraz z nimi, przesłaniając jej widok co jakiś czas.  

— Niezły z ciebie tancerz. Zauroczyłeś chyba wszystkich moich gości, a to ja miałam być gwiazdą wieczoru! — stwierdziła [Reader] z udawanym smutkiem.  

— Cóż mogę poradzić, że wszyscy zauważają mój geniusz i nieprzeciętną urodę? — Vanitas teatralnie przewrócił oczami.  

Niespodziewanie pochylił ją do tyłu. Przez moment miała wrażenie, że upadnie, ale silna dłoń podtrzymała ją w talii i uniosła z powrotem. Uśmiechnął się złośliwie.  

— To było bardzo wredne, monsieur Vanitas.  

— W tańcu jak na wojnie, wszystkie chwyty są dozwolone, czyż nie, modemoiselle [Reader]?  

— Jestem prawie pewna, że powinno być w miłości jak na wojnie …  

— Być może. — Vanitas uśmiechnął się tajemniczo.  

Czy to zdanie miało głębszy sens? Czy może tylko próbowała się w nim doszukać drugiego dna? Tak trudno było coś z niego wyczytać.  

Znalazł się tak blisko, jak nigdy dotąd. Tylko po to, by zaraz odsunąć się na bezpieczną odległość. Zdecydowanie był jak burza. Nieprzewidywalny.  

— [Reader]! — Archiviste niezdarnie przedarł się między tańczącymi parami.  

Ulotny moment był jak bańka mydlana. Pękł bezpowrotnie pod delikatnym naporem.  

— Noé, nikt cię nie nauczył manier? — spytał Vanitas z przekąsem. — [Reader] jest teraz zajęta.  

— Musimy porozmawiać — stwierdził stanowczo wampir.  

Wyglądał na przejętego. Jakby coś ciążyło mu na sercu. Kobieta przyjrzała mu się, wciąż wirując, choć już wolniej niż wcześniej. Jeśli to dotyczyło spraw sercowych, to nie miała siły tego słuchać. O cóż innego mogło chodzić? Wreszcie dobrze się bawiła tego wieczoru. Chciała wrócić do beztroskiego zapomnienia.  

— Zaczekaj na swoją kolej — odparł Vanitas, oddalając się z partnerką tanecznym krokiem.  

Manon odłożyła tacę z kieliszkami na bok, gdy tylko zobaczyła, jak panienka zaczęła zmierzać do wydzielonej, ustronnej części ogrodu. Czego mógł od niej chcieć ten Archiviste?  

***

Pokojówka wyjrzała ostrożnie zza krzaków róży. Panienka stała w półcieniu, a jej pełna szoku twarz nie zwiastowała niczego dobrego. Już sam ten fakt napełnił Manon gniewem.  

— …bo chcieliśmy pozyskać informacje o następnym nosicielu klątwy. Tak było na początku, ale teraz poznałem cię lepiej i…  

Chciała powiedzieć: A nie mówiłam? Spodziewała się, że może do tego dojść. Jednak panienka była bardzo szczęśliwa z powodu tej znajomości, a w tym domu nie zawsze było miejsce na swobodne decyzje. Więc pozwoliła jej na ten błąd. Może ta naiwna wiara udzieliła się również jej. Limit samolubnych znajomych musiał się kiedyś skończyć. A przynajmniej tak myślała. Teraz żałowała braku wcześniejszej reakcji.  

— Byłam głupia, łudząc się, że wreszcie pojawił się ktoś, kto miał gdzieś mój status. — [Reader] otarła łzę formującą się w kąciku oka. — Zawsze tak się kończy. — Wzniosła wzrok ku górze, pociągając nosem. — Tylko dlaczego akurat wtedy, kiedy Vanitas…  

Niedokończone zdanie zawisło w gęstym powietrzu. Zapewne dlatego, że omawiany mężczyzna pojawił się w zasięgu wzroku. Wyglądał na wściekłego.  

— Zawsze musisz wszystko psuć, co, Noé!? — spytał słowami ociekającymi jadem.  

— Niczego nie zepsułem. Ja tylko powiedziałem prawdę — stwierdził twardo wampir, gdy człowiek złapał go za kołnierz koszuli.  

Ze swoimi pokładami siły z pewnością mógł go łatwo zrzucić, jednak nie zrobił tego. Przytrzymał jedynie szarpiące go ręce w miejscu.  

— Nie możesz tak wykorzystywać innych. — Gniew jaśniał w oczach Archiviste. — Nie, kiedy ona cię…  

To był obraz zazdrości. Z dobrych pobudek , stwierdziła Manon. To była zazdrość kogoś, kto chciał dla ukochanej osoby jak najlepiej. Jednak nie zmieniało to w żaden sposób sytuacji. On również oszukał panienkę.  

— Mamy podstawy sądzić, że gdzieś na terenie przyjęcia jest nosiciel klątwy… — zaczął Vanitas.  

— Nie obchodzi mnie to — powiedziała cicho [Reader].  

— Próbujemy… — dołączył się Noé.  

— Nie obchodzi mnie to! — wykrzyczała [Reader]. — Wynoście się stąd, oboje!  

Manon miała tego serdecznie dosyć. Widok jej panienki padającej na kolana z bezsilności był wystarczający. Gorzko łkała. Ciężka suknia rozlała się falą pośród ciemnej trawy. Wyglądała jak jasny, gotowy do rozkwitu kwiat w ogrodzie pełnym róż. Chciała ją odgrodzić od tego zła.  

Fakt, że pokojówka po części była powodem wizyty tych dwóch intruzów, rozsadzał ją od środka. Przyszli tu z myślą o niej. Czy kiedykolwiek wcześniej czuła taką złość? Czy była tak bardzo głodna? Słyszała wcześniej o słynnej paradzie. Jednak czym innym było słyszeć, a czym innym doświadczyć.  

Zewsząd otaczała ją muzyka. Tak piękna, że nie mogła tego opisać słowami. Nuty płynęły z każdej strony, zachęcając do jednej rzeczy.  

Zabij ich wszystkich!  

Kolorowe postacie ciągnęły się jedna za drugą w długim korowodzie. Powykręcane twarze wcale jej nie brzydziły. Zdawały się ją namawiać, choć nic nie mówiły. Cyrkowiec z piłkami, cień na szczudłach, baletnica z pękiem kolorowych balonów. Wszyscy trzymali się za ręce i tańczyli.  

Patrzyła na nich zafascynowana. Spod jej palców wyrosło szkło. Palce u stóp pokrył kryształ. Czy to były buty? Wydawały się wżynać w stopy. Czy to była klatka? Jej panienkę otaczała potężna konstrukcja. Przypominała ogromny, zdobiony klosz. Pasuje , stwierdziła. Ładne kwiaty powinny stać pod kloszem. Tylko tak można było je uchronić przed szkodnikami.  

Była jednocześnie w ogrodzie i na wesołej paradzie. Chciała iść, ale coś ciągle powstrzymywało ją przed złapaniem ręki kogokolwiek z korowodu. Była wściekła. Przecież potrafi tańczyć! Wystarczy tylko, że dotknie palców… Znów uciekły. Potrząsnęła głową. Czy to była krew? Była tak bardzo głodna… Jakby nie jadła od wieków. Między pięknymi nutami na moment pojawiły się krzyki. Otoczenie zdawało się falować i mieszać. Była jednocześnie tu i tam. Czy właśnie pękło jakieś szkło? Tak bardzo chciała złapać rękę i dołączyć do zabawy…  

— Manon, musisz się z tego otrząsnąć. — Znajomy głos dobiegał jak gdyby z bardzo daleka. Ktoś nią potrząsał, ale nie była w stanie nawet powiedzieć kto.  

Fałsz pojawił się nagle. Instrumenty zdawały się pierzchać pod naporem czegoś, czego nie dało się opisać. Dziwne światło przedarło się wśród parady. Tak, jakby ktoś rozdarł zasłonę i wpuścił poranek do pokoju.  

— Zwracam ci twoje prawdziwe imię. Ty jesteś Cendrillon, zamknięta w krysztale! — Głos zdawał się roznosić echem. Jakby odbijał się od tysięcy luster i rozbijał każde z nich.  

Stała pośrodku pustej sali. W ręce trzymała szklany pantofelek. Mglista ręka ostatkiem sił próbowała złapać ją za dłoń. Z całej siły uderzyła butem w ostatnie z luster. Brzęk poniósł się w nicość, a niewyraźna postać zniknęła.  

— …nic jej nie będzie — dobiegło do Manon, gdy zamykała zmęczone oczy.  

Ostatnim, co widziała, był gruby, oprawiony w skórę grymuar.  

***

— Żadnego powrotu do pracy! — stwierdziła kategorycznie [Reader].  

— Przesadza panienka! Za długo tu już siedzę — naburmuszyła się pokojówka.  

Leżenie w łóżku przez cały tydzień było nużące. Szczególnie, gdy z dnia na dzień zostało się pozbawionym większości obowiązków, które jak dotąd dawały jej zajęcie.  

Żadnych zakupów. Żadnej pomocy przy ubiorze i makijażu. Żadnego umawiania spotkań, organizacji podwieczorków ani nawet herbatki. Absolutnie nic. Wszystko w imię zdrowia.  

— Vanitas mówił, że wszystko już ze mną w porządku…  

— Teraz go słuchasz?! — obruszyła się kobieta.  

Manon zaśmiała się pod nosem. Może jednak do czegoś się przydał ten konował. Nareszcie.  

— Powinnaś się nacieszyć tym wolnym. Ogród jest w tak opłakanym stanie, że trochę zajmie jego naprawa. — [Reader] odruchowo zerknęła przez okno. — Zdążysz jeszcze się zmęczyć.  

Wrażenia z tamtej pechowej nocy pokojówka pamiętała jedynie jako mgliste wspomnienia. Zdecydowanie więcej natomiast mieli do powiedzenia Noé, Vanitas i [Reader]. Na całe szczęście goście nigdy nie zorientowali się, co zaszło. Wydzielony fragment ogrodu oddzielił ich od makabrycznego przedstawienia.  

Jej malnomen był paskudny. W co wierzyła. Kawałki czegoś, co przypominało szkło, a może kryształ, walały się wciąż między niektórymi krzakami róż. Jej niepochamowana żądza krwi nieomal pozbawiła życia trzy osoby. A gdyby nie one, z pewnością by na tym nie poprzestała.  

— Panienko, ja naprawdę zwariuję od tego siedzenia…  

— Niech ci będzie. Obiecuję, że jutro coś ci przydzielę — poddała się kobieta, rozpoczynając lekturę nowelki, którą do tej pory miała pod pachą.  

Przez chwilę siedziały w ciszy.  

— Przepraszam, że nic wcześniej nie powiedziałam… — zaczęła Manon.  

— O nie! Jeszcze raz zaczniesz przepraszać za to samo i naprawdę cię zwolnię! — zagroziła [Reader].  

Istotnie, nie był to pierwszy raz. Nie była to również jedyna osoba, do której przeprosiny były skierowane. Choć pokojówce z trudem przeszły przez gardło te skierowane do Vanitasa. Ten jednak zamiast chełpić się, poklepał ją infantylnie po głowie i oznajmił, że w końcu jest lekarzem wampirów.  

— Przemyślała panienka to, co powiedziałam? — spytała Manon, patrząc na romantyczną nowelkę w dłoniach [Reader].  

— Sama nie wiem… Może wyprawimy ten podwieczorek w przyszłym tygodniu, jak już całkiem staniesz na nogi. Tamtego wieczoru byłam na nich naprawdę wściekła… ale z drugiej strony istotnie, widząc klątwę z bliska, jestem w stanie zrozumieć, dlaczego chcieliby za wszelką cenę mieć pewność, że dotrą do nosicieli na czas. Nawet jeśli wtedy odbyło się to moim kosztem.  

Pojednawcza herbatka była dobrym pomysłem. A przynajmniej tak chciała wierzyć była nosicielka klątwy. Może dzięki temu uda się zbudować od nowa relacje, które do tej pory były oparte na niedomówieniach. I może dzięki temu [Reader] wreszcie zyska dwójkę szczerych przyjaciół obok siebie.  

— Tooo… który z nich bardziej się panience teraz podoba? — spytała zaczepnie pokojówka.  

— Manon! Zmieniam zdanie! Myślę, że jednak jesteś już całkiem zdrowa. Pora wracać do obowiązków.  

— Pięknie panience dziękuję. — Kobieta uśmiechnęła się, rzucając się w stronę swojego pracowniczego ubioru.  

— Jesteś niemożliwa… — stwierdziła [Reader], wychodząc z pokoju. — A co do twojego pytania… — zrobiła dramatyczną pauzę, gdy jej pracownica wyczekiwała odpowiedzi — tajemnica. — Przyłożyła palec do ust, co spotkało się z głośnym jękiem zawodu.  

[ot7stan4life]

My Comfort

Jiu & Dami x Female Reader

*Requested*

(1 part - completed ✅)

Word Count: 2,400

Summary: Just as you and your seven members are getting set on stage to perform at an award show, you start to have a panic attack. Minji and Yubin pull you backstage to help you through it.

Warnings: depictions of panic attack, self-deprecating dialogue, fluff ending

You had never considered yourself an overly anxious person. In fact, you prided yourself for how well you dealt with stressful situations, especially since you were forced to experience them often given your occupation as a kpop idol. The worst it usually ever got was a nervous heartbeat and sweaty palms here and there that might’ve distract you long enough to forget choreo at a fansign or trip over your words in an interview. Never anything major.

Certainly nothing like this.

As you stood next to your members on a dark stage, taking your place before the performance began, an unavoidable dread hung heavy on your heart. You couldn't be sure what exactly caused it—maybe the exhaustion you’d felt after a year of nonstop shows and promotions, maybe the added pressure that came with greater recognition following your group’s first win, maybe the constant hate being thrown at you that seemed even more prevalent in the recent weeks—whatever it was, it made your body hyper aware of everything around you.

The hundreds of people with their eyes drawn to the stage where you stood, whispering and talking. All with their own judgmental opinions of you and your members and your song and performance. The cameras zooming in, filming your every move, there to catch any mistakes and project it for the audience to see and record it for the world to replay over and over again for as long as they wanted, critiquing every little detail. The stage lights flipping on, shining a spotlight on you like an object to be ogled at, now overstimulating your senses and blinding you.

Why was it so bright? Had these stage lights always been this bright?

Your mind was racing with endless thoughts, never able to decide which one to focus its attention on. It was like flipping through a photo book without stopping long enough to take in one single picture. Just a never ending cycle of images and thoughts flooding your mind when you should've been focused on the upcoming performance. But it only got worse when your brain seemed to process the clothes wrapped around your body. All the sudden they felt too small, too tight. You wanted to rip them off of you. They were suffocating, just like the lights and the people and the camera and quicker and quicker your lungs inhaled and exhaled, oxygen thicker and harder to breathe with every breath. Sweat beaded on your forehead and you soon felt lightheaded. Your limbs all tingled with a sickly cool sensation and your mind grew foggy. The crowd in front of you started to waver and spin as the ground below you grew unstable. You weren’t moving but the room around you was. There was so much noise and silence all at the same time and your heart stung in your chest and pounded in your ears.

You couldn't even hear the music start, but it didn't matter anyways because you were clutching your chest and falling to the ground before you could ever move, the performance a distant blur to you. In that moment you’d forgotten where you were altogether as black dots spotted your vision, spreading until all you saw was darkness. For a second you thought you might've passed out, and maybe you did, but the next you were being dragged off stage by two strong pairs of arms, secure around either side of your body with your own arms slung over their shoulders. All you could do was weakly step in stride with them as they lead you somewhere backstage. Your eyes were closed now, but that only made it worse.

Your thoughts were somehow even more overstimulating than the surrounding environment. Once you processed what just happened, they became less random and more intentional. More targeted. They scolded you for being so weak. So unprofessional. How could you just let something as routine as a performance overwhelm you? How could you let the opinions of those who didn't matter get to you? How could you pass out on stage in front of a live audience? How could you embarrass yourself like that? How could you embarrass your group like that? You ruined the performance. You made your group look bad. You let your members down. You let the crowd down. You let your fans down.

One after the other, shot after shot fired at yourself, breaking away your strength and busting through your once composed exterior. Tears that you didn't realize had accumulated underneath your eyelids spilled down your cheeks while your lungs fought hard to keep up with the fast pace of your heart. Everything hurt and you felt trapped inside yourself. You were sure you’d never be able to break free from the prison of your mind and escape the incessant torture of negative thoughts.

Until you heard a soft voice.

"Y/N,” though it was distant, it started to ground you. Pull you from the darkness that consumed you. You felt the cushion of a couch beneath you and one hand on your shoulder, the other on your leg. "Hey, look at me." Another pair of hands felt soft and warm as they were gently placed on your cheeks. The contact willed your eyes open and forced you to look up at her through your tears. Focusing on anything was difficult, but Dami seemed to understand this, calmly saying "breathe" followed by a repeated rhythm of inhaling and exhaling oxygen through her lungs. You closed your eyes again and focused on her breathing, eventually matching her steady pace. Slowly, the thoughts started to dissipate one by one, your mind zeroing in only on the sound of air leaving her lips. The excruciating hammering of your heart gradually slowed to a normal, bearable rate as you leaned forward into her touch. Just as your forehead met hers, everything seemed to calm and your mind was finally at peace once again.

"You're okay,” she whispered, smoothly brushing her thumbs across your cheeks to collect the stray tears falling down them. "I'm right here,” she reminded you. You weakly reached up to hold onto her wrists, finding comfort in the feeling of her skin against yours.

Dami took the contact as a good sign and hesitantly leaned her head back so that your foreheads were no longer connected, but left her hands cupping your cheeks. When you opened your eyes and sniffled, you found her looking at you with a concerned expression, yet she granted you a small smile in hopes that it might lift your mood.

"I'm sorry,” was the first thing you thought to say. Your voice came out weak, groggy from the crying fit that had irritated your throat.

A different hand appeared in your peripheral, raising to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, drawing your attention to a member you didn't realize was sitting next to you on the couch until now. "Don't apologize,” your group leader spoke gently but assuredly, her eyes glazed over with unshed tears upon seeing one of the women she loved have an anxiety attack right before her, rendering her helpless.

You let out an unsteady exhale before leaning back against the couch. Dami released her hands from your face, instead placing one on your thigh and the other in one of yours: a silent reminder that she was still there with you while your attention shifted to Minji. "I ruined the performance,” you voiced. It was true, after all.

"That doesn't matter,” Minji shot back, unhappy with the fact that you would ever blame yourself for something like this.

"Yes it does,” you pushed back, now fully aware of just how big of a deal this was. "We’ve been preparing for this all year and I ruined it." The back of your throat started to burn, warning of oncoming tears.

"You couldn't control it,” Minji insisted, her perfect, pink lips pulling down further into a frown the more you berated yourself. "That's not your fault, baby." She inched closer to you, affectionately brushing her hand across your cheek, making you look into her eyes. It was obvious she was trying hard to convince you to see the truth in her words, but the damage from your previous thoughts had already been dealt.

"That doesn't matter,” you repeated her words. "People were counting on us to do well." Your eyes focused somewhere in the distance, no longer looking at her or Dami. All you could think about was your fans and how much you had let them down. "The fans have been waiting for this all year and I blew it." Your jaw clenched while you tried desperately to fight back the tears.

"I guarantee you not a single fan cares about the performance right now,” Dami replied matter-of-factly. Truth be told she was a little angry that you cared so much about the performance when that was the most irrelevant concern in her mind right now. They both knew you were stubborn and often tough on yourself but this had taken it to a whole new level.

"Everyone out there is only worried about your well-being,” Minji added, using her thumb to tilt your chin up so that you were looking at her again. "You getting better is all that matters right now, you got that?" She cocked an eyebrow, her tone less gentle in order to get her point across.

Sighing, you gave in, "yes,” you accepted, pushing the blame to the back of your mind for now.

"Good." Minji finally allowed herself to smile. The mere sight of it never failed to make you feel better. "Now let me go get you some water,” she said, standing up and placing a soft kiss on the top of your head before leaving the small dressing room.

Dami squeezed your hand, bringing your attention back to her. "Are you okay?" she asked quietly, scooting closer to your side in her own sort of protective way, never tearing her eyes away from you. You knew she was still worried, especially since this had never happened before.

You sat up straight, turning more towards her before replying, "I'm okay." Squeezing her hand back, you leaned in closer, finding comfort in her warmth like before. "Thanks to you." Your words elicited a smile from her: a real, genuine smile. You couldn't resist yourself, scooting even closer to kiss it off her face in a show of gratitude. Just like earlier, she held your cheeks in her hands, keeping you there as if you might dissolve into thin air or pass out again if she didn't support you.

"You really scared me for a second there,” she mumbled when you separated, her voice unsteady. It was rare for Dami to show such vulnerability; that's how you knew her words weren't an exaggeration. She had seen it all happen in slow motion, her heart stopping dead in her chest when you dropped in front of her. Both her and Minji were quick to rush to your aid, not caring one bit about starting the performance. The other members carried on reluctantly, despite their obvious concern, knowing at least someone had to remain on stage to see the performance all the way through. Had it been up to them, they would've blown it off just to make sure you were alright.

"I know,” was all you could manage in response. It came as a shock even to you, so you really can't imagine how surprised and horrified they were. They all had such big hearts, especially Minji; it was very likely that seeing you in such distress was more painful for them to witness than it was for you to experience. "But I'm okay now,” you reassured the younger member, placing your hands on top of hers and giving her your best convincing smile. She reciprocated, though hers still appeared uneasy.

"Here, my love,” Minji's voice prompted Dami to release you from her hold, allowing you to grab the chilled water bottle the leader was handing you. You thanked her and took a sip as she resumed her spot next to you on the couch. Her hand instantly raised to comb her fingers through your hair while you drank, apparently not wanting to go a second without showing you affection. A silence washed over you as they both just watched you take slow sips of the water, allowing your mind and body to finally find some relief.

Once you drank enough water, you screwed the lid back onto the bottle. Before you could put it on the small table in front of you, Dami carefully grabbed it from your hands and did it for you. Though you could've done it yourself, you found her extra cautious and caring behavior heartwarming.

"The members were wanting to see you, but I told them to give you some space for now,” Minji informed you, her hand now playing absentmindedly with your fingers while she stared at you lovingly, her head propped up by her other hand on the back of the couch. "Whenever you're ready, we can go over there or I can send them over here, but there's no rush." She interlocked her fingers with yours, her patience and thoughtfulness causing familiar butterflies to rage in your stomach. "I also want you to get checked out by medical staff... just in case." Her lips pursed as if just remembering what happened all over again and the thought of it brought her discomfort.

"Okay,” you complied with a gentle smile of thanks. Though, you didn't feel it was enough, so you tugged on her hand, edging her towards you. She got the hint and leaned in to close the distance. Her lips moved rather hesitant against yours, almost like she didn't want to harm you any further. You let go of her hand and brought yours up to her face to pull her more into you, sighing against her mouth in content.

Even just a simple kiss from either of them could wash away all the bad feelings you’d ever felt. They were your comfort, and, from here on out, you swore to never take that for granted.

**This imagine was transferred over from my Wattpad account OT5Stan4Life**

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

I like you. I love you. (A SuperBat confession oneshot)

by Iidas_Wife_Persey Movie nights are a big thing in the Wayne household. Clark gets roped into spending the night with Bruce's family while he internally debates whether or not to tell his coworker and best friend his true feelings towards him. Or Clark realizes that he likes Bruce and tells him after watching a movie with Bruce's family. (This is honestly one of my better pics I've done so far.) Words: 2638, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 1 of Creator's SuperBat Fics Fandoms: DCU, DCU (Comics), Justice League - All Media Types, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain, Duke Thomas, Damian Wayne, Original Child(ren) of Bruce Wayne Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Superman/Batman Additional Tags: Clark Kent and Kon-El | Conner Kent are Siblings, Divorced Clark Kent, Bruce is a good dad sometimes, Superman is divorced from Lois Lane, No Jon x Dami in this AU, Bruce Wayne is a softie when it comes to love, Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent, Clark Kent Loves Bruce Wayne, Bisexual Clark Kent, Bisexual Bruce Wayne via https://ift.tt/c309sCh

[disillusioneddanny]

WIP Ask and Text Game

Lol I have been tagged in this by: @thewritingowl @oliveofvanders @noir-renard @spite-sapphic-starlight @bewitched-forest

I have over 100 wips in different levels of development and they're all in different folders based off of where they're at. The ones listed are fics that I am actively updating or are one shots that i'm halfway finished that i'm planning on posting soon

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Lightning in a Bottle Fic

The Story of Us Fic

A Contract with the Red Hood

The sound of silence fic

madness tim/danny

Love Like You Fic

Dami Danny arranged marriage au one shot edition

Family Matters DPxDC One Shot

A Summoning Gone Wrong

There's a Fine Line

When Jazz Falls in Love

Spiritsuperbat

Twin Fic

Sick Fic 1.

Omegaverse Dead On Main

Dead ON Main ONe shot

This Bird Has Flown

Spirit Halloween Smut

Tim/Danny Oneshot

To Love and Be loved

Bones Exposed

Sound of Silence

Phantom's Moving Castle

Yes i'm drowning lol

I'm not tagging 23 people lol buuut here goes (sorry if you've been tagged multiple times lol)

@theredshirtsarecoming @chromatographic @ectoentity @die-erlkonigin6083 @summerssixecho @arzuera @tathartiel @littlestartopaz @xysidhequeen

[ccghastly]

How Warboys Treat Their Young

A Novel by CCGhastly

No, it's just a oneshot. A oneshot for a very dead fandom.

(There's a whole bunch of personal headcanons that are the meat behind this thing, but I don't have the confidence to get into that just yet, if anyone's curious feel free to scream it into my ask box. Hold me at gunpoint, I'll happily spill my guts. )

Main thing you need to understand this is Dami=Mother, Cub=0-5 y/o, Pup=6-15 y/o.

My Asks and Requests are Open! Hope You Enjoy!

Romak carefully approached the sniffling cub, that had curled up miserably on the floor of his crew’s workbay. The bitlet had obviously gotten lost and followed the advice all the little ones get. If you're lost, follow the noise to the garage and a Warboy will help you back to where you're meant to be. Granted, not many cubs know this, as Damis don't spread it around like pups and warboys do, but every so often a cub will turn up, crying for their Dami.

Romak knelt, crooning at the cub as he gathered them in close to his chest,

“Hey there lil screamer, Where’s your Dami then, huh?” The cub grizzled unhappily, rubbing their face into his shoulder to soothe themself and coming up adorably smeared with his clay. Romak hummed sympathetically, petting their back.

“Can you tell me your name?” the cub remained unswayed from their silent woe. Opting instead to renew their tears while giving Romak the biggest saddest eyes he’d ever seen.

“Aww, poor biter. It’s okay.” Romak stood and settled the cub safely onto his hip

“Hows about this, My name’s Romak and this is Mag.” he gestured to the pup that was meant to be straightening a wheel well, but had wisely chosen to occupy his time with quieter tasks while the cub was present. Mag jumped up like he had only just barely waited for the invitation, scrambling over to coo at the cub.

“Heya cub.” Mag enthused “I’m Mag, what's your name? Bet it's real shiney.”

The cub peeked an eye out to inspect this new person, assessing if he was interesting enough to move them from their anguish. Slowly the cub pulled back to sit up in Romak’s arms, eyeing Mag the whole way. With a few final tears and an unhappy rub at their eyes, there came a small mumbling of ‘Loni’.

“Loni!” Romak cheered, tickling at the cubs sides to make them giggle. The scattering of watching eyes from deeper in the workshop saw the cub calm down, and comfortably drifted back to their tasks.

“You must be one of Nikta’s. Axle’ll be real excited to hear we’re getting another one of her’s, all Nikta’s pups are chrome. What do you say we get you packed away with your Dami again, Loni?”

The now wriggling cub nodded eagerly, stretching away from Romak and chirping a demanding ‘Mag!’ as they waved their arms at the pup. Romak handed the cub over with playful reluctance, making sure they were both steady while they inspected each other from close range. The cub gave a ringing squeal, happily smacked Mag in the face, then demanded ‘Down!’.

Romak’s laughter jolted Mag from his shock and the pup laughed as he obeyed the cubs order, depositing them safely onto the floor. Giggles poured from the cub as they yanked at Mag’s pants, stretching up an arm to grab at his hand. Mag bent to let the cub have their grasp of his fingers, allowing them to yank him along as they bounced their way back out of the garage. Romak following behind to watch over the pair.

Tada! Hope you enjoyed it. The cub is v melodramatic, because thats how I always picture babies thinking, I find it funny. Every little blip they experience is (literally) the worst thing that's ever happened to them.

Maybe I'll post it on Ao3, for posterity if nothing else, and to make it easier to find all my stuff in one spot I suppose.

Thanks for Reading!

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

I come as bidden to ask for angsty fic recs! :D (Especially if they end good though, I just watched a TV show from which I am a little physically ill of Bad Things Left Hanging) 💛

ohoho yes good you've come to the right place!!! angst with a happy ending is one of my favorite tropes ever tbh, especially including lots of hurt/comfort!!! without further ado~

protective dad Bruce

family-wide angst with a side of character study

Jason and Bruce have very different ideas of remembrance

very angsty Cass fic for the Cass mutual ft. hope and healing

Damian and Jason have met before

the passing down of warmth from fathers to sons not quite their own

pretty heavy Babs character study (this author is REALLY GOOD)

getting shot is a great way to end a family feud (and Tim is a little bit feral for a hot second)

baby Dickie and a field trip gone bad

Damian thinks he's going to die (he's wrong) and Tim won't let that happen

Tim and Bruce and healing

Steph and Bruce get yoinked back in time and they are not having fun

Bruce just needs to see his kid alive

Steph telling Bruce "I think I'm bad" will stick with me forever

a little bit vague and a lot bit sad but everything is okay at the end, for the whole family

Dick and Jason being brothers

this one made me ache a little bit and then healed the bruises (B and the kids and the finite nature of human life)

I feel like this has probably been recced to you already but OUGGHHHH the family feels from Dami's POV... it's so good

this one is actually pretty soft and has a really cool concept (and ten bucks says you can probably guess why the title caught my eye) with Tim and Bruce

Dick is hallucinating his kid and it just might break him

SAD SAD SAD ANGSTY HOWEVER read the endnotes bc everything's gonna be okay

I KNOW this one's already been recced to you but honestly it fundamentally changed something in me. in the back of my mind I'm always on some level thinking about it. I cannot adequately explain just how much this fic wrecked me and how important it is to me. I'm just gonna say again what I told @called-kept after she first sent it to me: for middle children in the Wayne clan, sometimes dying (and coming back) is what it takes to realize how loved they are. (Kept actually pitched this to me with, essentially, "hey you like fics where the others are comforted in near-death experiences by the fact that Jason's already been through it, right?" though not in those exact words. and if i let myself I'm going to write a hecking epistle to you about this so I'm just gonna uh... stop talking now)

so ya know how I'm really emotional about Dick being a parent to Damian?

Jason is having panic attacks

Jim Gordon is SUCH a good dude.

Jason stress cooks/bakes

growing up is hard when you're a bird-themed vigilante

I don't usually go for soulmate AUs but this is a REALLY GOOD platonic soulmate AU (it made me cry)

ANOTHER fic that's made me cry and also the one that made me realize how deeply bittersweet I feel about Dick Grayson

Timberly dealing with being immunocompromised (a word which my phone apparently does not like smh)

brothers grieving together — sad but has a happy ending!!!!!

INCREDIBLY long oneshot (with a sequel that I also greatly recommend!!) with a lot of angst but!!! it does not stay there!!! as is a theme in this list there's also healing!!!! (Tim needs help to feel again. that's ok bc he has brothers.)

dare I say it THE Batfam angst (presumably with a happy ending) fic? I'm slowly making my way through it and AAAAGHJHHH it's SO GOOD the characterizations and relationships and struggles and fears and never giving up... so so good

basically anything by @envysparkler but I have like 90% of her fics bookmarked and this list is already super long so I'm just going to gesture wildly and excitedly toward Envy's AO3 and leave it at that

and last but not least one of the first Batfam fics I read and really really loved. a bird gets a bird of his own and Damian gets a new understanding and deeper relationship with his next-oldest brother

[jamies-overalls]

New Lynthia oneshot to be posted when I get to work, progress is being made on the Damie knights au chapter 4, and the faccivinos fic is fully outlined. oh, and if I can stop having second thoughts about it, I've got a new Taivan oneshot to be posted. wtf is happening why am I writing so much