So one of the things I imagine happening after Danny got his ghost powers is that he’s much more light on his feet, and so his family hardly ever hears him when he comes up or down the stairs, and often times scares his mom or dad or Jazz when they don’t realize he’s there until he talks because he’s behind them, and they sometimes tell him he’s like a ghost in the house and its funny because of how true it is even tho they don’t know it, and yea
For Witches in the Broom Closet and Pagans in Hiding
The white lies are the lies we tell to save ourselves, and sometimes can’t be avoided. Ask yourself for each situation, is it more important that I tell the truth, or is it more important that I stay safe? Some gods are harsher on liars than others. My thoughts on this are, if you safety and well being are compromised, lie away.
Now I have a witch tip for all you baby witches out there, witches in the “broom closet” or pagans in general. Start a short story or an essay. It doesn’t have to be good, it doesn’t have to take up a lot of energy, however it needs to center around witchcraft or paganism. For instance it can be a Percy Jackson/Harry Potter crossover fanfic. If someone finds your research, notes on spells etc. you can tell them, “Oh, that’s just research for my article/story/book.” This is your alibi. This concept applies to many things. Kitchen witches can keep spells in the form of recipes, sigils can be explained away as doodles, and if you keep crystals you can say you have taken up an interest in geology/or you just think they look nice.
If you are in a situation where your beliefs could put you in danger it is 100% okay to lie about it to avoid harm.
the prompt: prince jungkook au where he always comes into the kitchen for late night snacks and y/n is new to the kitchen staff. soon they become friends and maybe something more. (definitely something more who am i trying to kid)(also request was rlly long so i summarized it)
category: fluff + once again, fond!kookie
author note: never apologize for long requests bc that is how i survive. also, someone seriously needs to stop me from writing about fond jungkook bc ya girl can’t get enough. anyway, please enjoy!
What if, for PR, the JLA let their sidekicks have social media? Like, Just imagine all them like that. constant flow of shitposts of them singing things that are so out, trying to throw and catch popcorn in each other mouths, sliding down the stairs of the titan tower on their matters. their ratings would immediately go up.
Batman glared around the table. “As you all know six months ago the League voted to set up official social media accounts for Young Adult heroes connected with us. A decision I was strongly against at the time, and I feel my worst fears have been realized”
“Superman” He said turning an icy look at Clark “Superboy has recorded nearly 40 hours of bottle flips, including one’s on the moon and while fighting an alien invasion. Meanwhile Kon el has been featured in a very popular viral video called ‘Superboy’s greatest dabs’”
“Wonder Woman, world leaders are asking questions about Cassie’s mid-superbattle selfies. The national teachers union is putting out a strongly worded statement this afternoon about it”
“Ted Flash, Blue Beetle and Kid Flash’s ‘shit white people say’ Podcast is very popular but also has made the kids a major target on right wing news, they have enough to worry about without getting pipe bombs from Fox viewers. Also Impulse and Blue Beetle’s cooking show, it would be nice if they could make it through one 15 minute youtube video without blowing up or burning down a kitchen and many parents are worried about the number of rude jokes and ass slapping”
“To the room at large, there have been complaints about the number of in underwear bathroom mirror selfies Beast Boy takes, 8 in one day not that long ago. Starfire’s make up tutorials are, eccentric to say the least. Many parents are worried that Raven is teaching children the dark arts on Instagram. And finally Aquaman, Aqualad’s Instagram is creating death treats from anti-gay groups around the world.”
Hal Jordan leaned back in his seat “All in favor of doing nothing about this and letting the kids do what they like?” a roar of “AYE!” came from every corner Batman scowled.
[On the parallels between his love of drawing and acting]:Both are creative outlets, and I find a reward for me personally in both but they are really completely different. Acting is a collaboration, where you incorporate your craft with three or four other craftsmen. You find a director, an editor, and a cinematographer where there are so many cooks in the kitchen, trying to come together to make a piece of art. In drawing you are the cook, the head chef, and that is all there is, and there is no one else around but a blank canvas and to that extent it is fun having the control especially if you are a control freak like I am.
Draco hates cooking. He’s horrible at it. Harry is patient with him and tries his best to teach him how, but Draco just can’t get the hang of it.
What do you mean it doesn’t matter which direction you stir it?
What does it mean “to taste”…of course you’re supposed to taste it.
No, “to taste” is not a measurable amount.
Dice a small onion? What kind of onion? How small? This isn’t being specific.
Why are we lighting a grill? outdoors? We have a perfectly functional kitchen inside.
How many times do I stir the sauce? what? WHy ARE YOU LAUGHING?
What did you just put in that skillet? You didn’t measure, it was a literal handful! With Your HAND!
You mean to tell me…you fed me fish…out of a tin? Are you sure it isn’t cat food?
Draco is about ready to just give up until he discovers…baking. He loves the way the recipes tell you exactly how much of an ingredient to use, the preciseness of the temperature and sizes of the pans. Customization of baking recipes felt much more controlled. Draco says it’s so much like potions it’s impossible for him to do poorly. Harry insists it’s just because Draco has an outrageous sweet tooth.
While researching alternative healing methods I came across the flower healing extracts. The idea being that certain flowers would help with different emotional and mental states. While this is actually a still existing alternative medicine and not actual witchcraft ingredients, there is some overlap and some plants and flowers I don’t normally see on ingredients posts
I found the list interesting, and even though some of these flowers may be harder to come by than many kitchen witch ingredients, I thought those on the tumblr witchcraft community who are looking to experiment with different ingredients to refine their potions, spells, and charms might benefit from trying some of these flowers. If you find any of this list helps in your craft I would love to hear about it
Rock Rose (Helianthemum
nummalarium) – Extreme fear, terror, panic
guttatus) – shyness, timidity, known fears
Cherry Plum (prunus
cerasifera) – collapse of mental control, vicious temper, fear of doing
harm or self-harm
Aspen (populous tremula)
– apprehension, foreboding, unknown and vague fears
Red chestnut (aesculus
carnea) – exaggerated fear of others (especially loved ones), anxiety of
Overcare for others’
intybus) – possessiveness, demanding respect and obedience, selfishness
officinalis) – overenthusiasm, fanaticism, nervousness, rage at injustice
DESC: Reader isn’t the kind of girl who goes out to parties and gets wasted, but that all changes when Ethan Dolan shows her how to really live.
photo creds to owner
You’d never been so terrified by something that seemed so simple.
“Just a party,” you reminded yourself, extending your fingertips towards the silver door handle.
How had you gotten here in the first place? The answer wasn’t so much how, but who. Ethan Dolan had been your best friend and number one supporter for months, so you couldn’t turn down his request to a party, especially when you just so happened to be head over heels in love with him. You casually forgot to mention to him that you’d never so much as touched alcohol in your life, or gone to a party, either. But it didn’t take a genius to know that you were the classic head smart good girl, so, there was that. You ended up putting much more time into how you looked than you’d set out for, but no matter what you did, you knew that you would stick out like a sore thumb. You’d chosen a midnight blue strapped crop top, a short high waisted black skirt, and some silver heels.You’d let your hair down for once, and spent much more time than you’d like to admit doing your makeup. And now, here you were, and you couldn’t be more scared to pull that handle.
Luckily, you didn’t have to open the door, since somebody else did. A drunk couple toppled out the door in a fit of laughter, red plastic cups in their hands as they threw off their shoes and raced out into the grass. Not waiting another second, you dove through the doorway and into an absolute nightmare. The floor shook under the feet of hundreds of people dancing, so many people that they spilled out into the garden and right to the pool. Strobe lights blinded you instantly, and the music was so loud, it took everything you had not to cover your ears like a dork. You got sucked into the crowd instantly, knocking hips with a guy who reeked of beer.
“Hey pretty lady, wanna dance?” He winked, his hands flying to your hips and pulling you into his chest.
“She’s with me,” a familiar voice said behind you.
The stranger sized up your savior, but quickly gave it up and backed off.
“Hey,” a warm voice said in your ear.
A smile crept up on your lips, and you spun to face Ethan, “Hey.”
He wore a plain white tee, some ripped black skinnies, and navy shoes. As usual, absolutely mesmerizing without even trying.
Ethan’s smile faltered, his eyes drinking you in for a good few seconds.
“Wow, um,” he started, taken aback, “You look…”
“Like a mess, I know,” you stammered.
“No,” Ethan smiled nervously, “You look amazing.”
You felt your cheeks warm in surprise, “Oh, um, thanks.”
Ethan nodded lightly, the smile you loved lighting up his face.
“Well, let’s get you out of this crowd for a minute,” he said.
“Thank god,” you laughed nervously and gratefully took Ethan’s hand as he pulled you easily through the waves of people.
Ethan walked you out of the loud dance floor, and into the slightly deserted kitchen. Not many people were in there, mostly just people coming in and out to fill their drinks up. He led you to the empty side of the kitchen, and hopped up onto the white marble counter-top, pointing to an empty stool across from him.
“So, how you feeling?” he asked.
“I don’t know, to be honest, this isn’t really my scene.”
Yeah right, you’ve been to parties before,” Ethan chuckled.
You coughed awkwardly and shook your head in embarrassment.
But Ethan had already hopped off the counter and dashed across the kitchen, coming back seconds later with two beer bottles in hand. He tossed you one, and you caught it without meaning to.
“Drink up,” he smiled, popping open his bottle and taking a gulp.
You held the chilly bottle in your hands, your heart beating fast.
“How about this,” Ethan said suddenly. “For every drink you drink, I’ll have one, that way we’ll be doing this together. And tomorrow, if you wake up regretting tonight, I will never ask you to do this again. You win. But, I promise you, you’ll have fun.”
You blew air out of your mouth, hating yourself for caving so easily.
“Fine,” you said, to Ethan’s delight. “But remember if this goes wrong, it’s on you.”
You opened your drink, and began downing it quickly. You didn’t particularly like it going down, but you sure enjoyed how it made you feel not too long afterwards.
“How do you feel now?” Ethan asked.
“I feel..bubbly,” you said with a big smile.
“You know what’s even better than that,” Ethan said huskily, “Feeling drunk.”
And before you knew it you were taking vodka shots with your best friend and biggest crush.
“Three, two, one,” Ethan counted down, bringing the shot glass to his lips at the same time as you. You scrunched up your face from the taste, but Ethan didn’t so much, his eyes tracking you the entire time.
“One last one,” you stuttered tipsily, refilling your drink.
You linked your arms into Ethan so that you’d be downing eachother’s drinks, but this time you held onto Ethan’s gaze as the liquid poured down your throats.
“Damn,” you said, placing your glass on the counter and turning to move.
“Where are you going?” Ethan asked.
“I’ll never be drunk enough to want to take the dance floor, but there’s a first time for everything,” you said as you made your way out the kitchen.
It was good Ethan followed you, because your feet wobbled dangerously and you went toppling backwards right into Ethan’s arms.
“I got you,” he laughed out, pushing you back upright.
“Thanks, E,” you smiled and fixed your balance before moving out into the mass of dancing people.
You had no idea what you were supposed to be doing, so you followed everybody else’s lead and shook your head and hips to the beat of the song, and that seemed to do the trick. The same guy from earlier came sliding into view, but you didn’t even try to stop him when he put his hands on your hips and began dancing into you. The pulse of the song beat hard in your chest and you laughed drunkenly and mimicked the stranger. You were actually starting to enjoy yourself when a strong hand grabbed you from behind and spun you right into a hard chest. You blinked through the flashing strobe lights in confusion.
“Come on Ethan, I was having fun,” you winged in complaint.
Ethan looked you over defensively, his jaw clenched.
“Not as much fun as you could be having with me,” he pointed out, running a hand through his dark locks.
“Whatever, dance with me,” you said, swinging yourself back into the song.
You started off jumping into the beat, but changed demeanor when you felt Ethan behind you, placing one large hand on each side of your round hips. You closed your eyes, enveloped by the sound, and pressed your shoulders back into Ethan as you swayed your hips lightly against his body. You rolled your neck into Ethan’s chest, resting your head on him as you let yourself be consumed by the feeling of him grinding into you. Ethan’s chest rose heavily, his cool breath tickling your face, his eyes closed. You blinked up at him, startled when he opened his eyes again, his dark eyes resting hungrily on yours. For a moment everyone vanished, and it was just you and Ethan, and there he was, bending over you, his lips parting-
“Belly shots!” someone yelled from across the room, snapping you out of your daze.
You cleared your throat, shaking your head a little bit with a smile, “Um, let’s go.”
Ethan nodded distantly, detaching himself from you and leading you to the fun.
“Who’s next?” someone called.
“This girl,” Ethan said, pushing you to the front of the small crowd.
A blonde guy raised his eyebrow at you with a smirk, “I’ll take this one.”
You gulped nervously, nodding shyly at Ethan and pulling yourself up onto the polished tabletop.
You tucked the lime between your lips, the salt spread over the top area of your breasts, and the tequila poured into your exposed bellybutton. Before you could even prepare yourself a little bit, Ethan was hunched over you, his tongue collecting all the salt, his lips attaching gently to your belly, and than to your mouth in seconds. The lights were blocked out by the shadow of Ethan bending over your lips, holding your eye contact for a moment while he sucked the lime from your lips and into his. The sound of triumphant cheers and whoops filled your ears, as you sat up. You grinned and turned to hop off the table but didn’t get to, for Ethan spat his lime out and grabbed you roughly by your hips and hoisted you into him, your legs wrapping around his waist obediently. And then the roaring of the crowd got a hundred times louder as Ethan attacked your lips mercilessly with his own, and you let him. Your hands went sliding roughly through his hair, your lips responding hungrily to Ethan’s, not even bothering to hide your moans of pleasure when he dipped his tongue into your mouth.
Suddenly, Ethan pulled his head back, his eyes fluttering open.
“(Y/N),” Ethan breathed apologetically.
“I want this,” you assured him, your teeth grazing over your lower lip, “I want you.”
Ethan clenched his jaw in frustration, his eyes closing as he fought to pick out his next words.
“(Y/N), you better answer with certainty, because if you give me a yes, then I don’t think I’m going to have the willpower to ask you again,” he murmured, his nostrils flaring.
“Ethan,” you said softly, “Open your eyes.”
He did, and they were darker than usual, and filled with nothing but lust.
“Yes,” you said.
And that was all it took.
The crowd of people whistled as Ethan placed you down on the ground and began leading you upstairs.
Ethan closed the bedroom door behind you, locking it shut and whipping around to face you. He pushed you down onto the sheets, climbing over you and removing his top and shoes, you following his lead. He dipped his lips onto your neck, sucking on a patch of your skin and drawing out sounds of pleasure from you. He nibbled and sucked your neck until it was covered in many dark love bites. You went to unclip your bra, but he had it off in seconds with little to no effort. Ethan brought his lips down to your breasts, attaching them around one of your nipples, his tongue flicking against the tip as he sucked on it roughly before moving to the other breast and repeating the action. You struggled not to roll your head back, keeping your eyes on Ethan, who lifted his deep gaze intently to yours while he worked. You breathed out in pleasure, your hands tugging at Ethan’s soft hair as his tongue came sliding down your belly and down to your skirt. He hooked his fingers into the fabric, sliding your skirt off your legs and tossing off his jeans while he was at it. You took him by surprise, grabbing his hips and turning him onto his back as you hoisted yourself onto his legs, his growing bulge centimeters away from where you wanted it. Ethan chuckled in surprise, his arms snaking around your belly as you bent over him, leaving wet kisses all over his rippled bronze chest. A deep rumble came from his throat as he moved his hands to your ass, which he squeezed roughly in his hands while you explored his chest. You looked up at him, your thumbs hooking in his Calvin’s, your heart thumping with adrenaline. Ethan nodded lightly, giving you the ok to remove his boxers. His large member perked right up, ready for you to take in your mouth, so you did. You squeezed as much of him as you could between your lips, your hands gently pumping any of him that didn’t fit. His length hit the back of your throat, but you took it, working your hands faster, a layer of sweat building on your skin. Ethan groaned out in pleasure, the sound being more enough to keep you going. You swirled your tongue around the tip, feeling him twitch in your mouth.
“B-baby, I’m gonna c-” Ethan gasped out.
He released his load in your mouth, and you swallowed without thinking twice. You pulled off, your chest rattling as you gulped in the fresh air. Ethan sat propped up on his elbow’s, his eyes wide in wonder as you lifted your gaze to him.
“Not so innocent after all,” he smirked, an eyebrow raised.
You blushed furiously in embarrassment, Ethan scooting you forward on his belly so he could reach your lips. He used his thumb to collect some left over mess around your lips, his eyes unwavering as he forced his finger into your mouth. You sucked on it lightly, his thumb popping as he removed it. Ethan smiled gently, bending into you for a quick kiss on the lips, his hand resting beneath your chin. He pulled back a moment later, shaking his head in awe.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.
“Because you’re gorgeous,” Ethan mumbled softly, “And because It’s my turn.”
Ethan spun you onto your back, raising his shaft above you and positioning it right near your entrance. You scooted back so that you could get a look at him, your hands resting open on either side of your body. Ethan laced his fingers through yours, holding you to the sheets as he entered you. Your face reflexively scrunched up as Ethan adjusted himself, but soon he was moving in and out of you at an excruciatingly slow pace.
“Ethan,” you begged in frustration, glaring at him.
Ethan’s lips twitched into a smile, and he began working himself faster towards your core.
“More,” you pleaded, digging your nails into Ethan’s hands.
He re-positioned his hands onto your hips, holding you in place as he began slamming his hips into you with no mercy. His hips came knocking roughly into yours, his balls slapping loudly against your skin. You cried out in pleasure, your nails dragging marks all over Ethan’s back. He found your g-spot and slammed roughly into it, his mouth dropping open, and his eyes fluttering closed in concentration.
“I’m going to-” before you could finish your sentence, Ethan had opened his eyes again to watch you shudder beneath him. And just the sight of his hair plastered to his forehead, his flawless body shaking with each jagged breath, and his dark eyes, was enough to break you.
“Come for me, princess,” Ethan purred.
You reached your high, convulsing beneath Ethan and screaming out his name as your juices poured out over him. Ethan’s thrusts got much sloppier, and he finished soon after, his come filling you right up to the brim. You shook beneath him, moisture clinging to your eyes as he pulled out and cleaned you up with small kitten licks.
Ethan crawled up to your side, giving you a moment to breathe. You rolled onto your side to face him, feeling exhausted. Ethan rolled to his side too, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead and gently slide his fingers through your tangles.
“Goodnight, beautiful,” he murmured.
But your head buried into his warm chest, you were already out.
- The next morning -
You awoke with a headache, the events of last night coming rushing back to your head at once. You blinked a couple of times and looked up to see Ethan still passed out, he’d fallen asleep with one arm locked tightly around you.
“Mmph,” you groaned, rubbing your eyes and sliding out of Ethan’s hold.
You sat upright, bringing your knees to your chest and placing your head in them while you struggled with what you were going to tell Ethan.
You knew for a fact that alcohol or no alcohol, you were sure of what you’d wanted last night, but you weren’t sure if you could say the same for him.
“Hey,” Ethan said, pulling himself up onto the pillows.
You lifted your head to look at him.
“How’s my not-so-good-girl,” he teased, ruffling his hair.
You scoffed and shook your head, “I don’t know, to be honest.”
“I could’ve sworn you said that same thing to me last night before getting drunk off your mind,” Ethan chuckled.
“You remember that?” you laughed weakly, picking through your foggy memories.
“Of course,” E said, his smile faltering.
“Look, alcohol doesn’t affect me quite as strongly as it does to you,” he started,”so if last night was a mistake to you-”
“Was it a mistake to you?” you cut him off, a knot of fear growing in your belly.
Ethan frowned at you, “Of course not, (Y/N), you can’t even begin to imagine how long I’ve been waiting for last night to happen,” he said. Then his eyes grew wide and he groaned in frustration, “Last night was a mistake to you, wasn’t it?” he hit his palms against his head.
“No,” you said. “Well of course I didn’t want things to happen quite like that, but well, you know.”
Ethan smiled curiously, “Really?”
“Really,” you smiled nervously.
“So then, you tell me,” Ethan grinned, “we had a promise.”
You raised an eyebrow in question.
“Do you swear off nights like last night and place full blame on me?” he asked.
“Nights like last night,” you repeated.
Ethan nodded, his brown eyes fixated on you.
“I get the feeling that ‘nights’ symbolizes something more than just a fling,” you laughed, “In which case, no, I would very much want to try out ‘nights’ some more.”
Ethan’s face lit up, “See, just like I said. I promised you’d come around.”
You plopped back down into the sheets, rolling back under Ethan’s arm and snuggling into him, “I guess you were right.”
“It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself.“ Damian and Jason (about Tim?)
Here you go Anon! Sorry if it’s not exactly what you were looking for - I set out to write a short angsty piece about Damian feeling guilty about how he’d treated Tim but Bruce got there before me and then Damian ended up hiding under a table and it all went downhill from there. But I hope you get some enjoyment form it anyway :)
Mixing up / ignoring comic timeline is almost a hobby of mine, but this one actually had some contextual thought behind it. Not much but. Basically set sometime after Bruce comes back from the “dead” but no more specific than that…
Damian isn’t hiding, but he could see how it may look that way to someone else. Alfred the cat had fled under the dining room table when the yelling started earlier and when he hadn’t been able to coax him out, Damian had crawled under the table as well. Titus had followed him, sniffing at the carpet and knocking into chair legs with his tail before settling down with a huff. It had seemed much easier to just stay there than try to move both his pets.
Dick and Alfred have both walked past - looking for him, maybe, or more likely just going about their day - but nobody has actually come in yet. Father might have thought to look here, but he doubts Father will search for him. Not while he’s still mad, at least.
“Hey Alfred!” a voice calls from the direction of the front door. The butler’s reply is muffled by distance and then the voices die off as the conversation moves into one of the Manor’s many rooms - probably the kitchen. Damian wonders who it could be; most visitors come via the cave.
He gets his answer a minute later when light footsteps precede the appearance of two socked feet and a pair of jeans in his vision. Todd is muttering to himself as he walks around the dining table then kneels down to start looking under it. The muttering stops when their eyes meet and Damian lifts his chin defiantly, daring the older boy to make fun of him. But all Todd says is, “Have you seen a pair of sunglasses under here?”
Damian glances at the floor around him and shakes his head. “No.”
“Dammit,” Todd mutters, standing up and almost banging his head on the table.
“Must be in the kitchen…”
He leaves and Damian let’s out a sigh of relief, relaxing back against Titus’s flank. But it’s short-lived because a moment later Todd comes back in and sets something down on the table before crouching back down.
“You wanna come out?” he asks.
“Okay.” His upper body vanishes upward again and when he comes back down he’s holding two mugs. He holds one out. “You want tea?”
Damian hesitates before nodding, reaching out to take the warm mug and cradling it to his chest. Even with the body heat from his pets, it’s remarkably cool under the table. He blows on the hot liquid then takes a cautious sip as Todd sits cross-legged opposite him with his back against the nearest table leg.
“So why are you hiding under a table?” he asks eventually, conversational in a way that grates on Damian’s nerves.
“I’m not hiding,” he snaps.
“Uh-huh. It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself of that.“
“I’m not,” Damian insists. “Alfred wouldn’t come out. I had to come under here to get him.”
Todd looks pointedly at where the cat is now curled up in Damian’s lap, purring softly as he’s petted. “Right. And was it loud noises that drove Alfred under the table?”
Damian narrows his eyes. Todd takes a casual sip of his tea. And he knows. He knows exactly why Alfred ran under the table and why Damian is under the table and he just wants him to say it. Well he’s not going to. Damian grits his teeth and glares.
Todd just shrugs. “Suit yourself. I’ll just tell you what the official version is then, shall I?”
It’s blatant manipulation and Damian will not be swayed by it.
“So I was leaving my apartment this morning when I realised I couldn’t find my sunglasses anywhere. I had tea with Alfred yesterday so this is the only other place I could think they might be. And when I arrive, I find out that you and Bruce got into a screaming match this morning which ended with a broken chair and two smashed vases.” He takes a sip of tea - probably for some kind of dramatic effect. "Apparently you threw a 4,000 dollar vase at Dick’s head when he tried to intervene.“ Damian glowers at his shoes and says nothing. Todd pokes him in the leg. “Come on, short fry, spill.”
It suddenly occurs to Damian that not-hiding under the table was a strategically bad move. He’s trapped between Titus and Todd, without anything throwable within reach. And Todd is as annoyingly stubborn as everyone else in the family; he will not let this go.
“Father says I cannot patrol,” Damian eventually mutters.
“That’s it? You started breaking shit because he benched you? Wow. That’s almost me-level crazy.”
“He says I am banned from the Cave until i can find a way to deal with my anger that does not involve violence.”
The older boy snorts. “I hate to agree with B, but he may have a point. The vases I can understand - Lord knows how many of those have been broken since Bruce started collecting strays - but the chair was a bit of an overreaction.”
Damian can feel the anger from earlier simmering beneath his skin but short of throwing his cat at Todd’s head there’s not much he can do besides growl. “You’re such a hypocrite Todd - you tried to kill him first!”
Todd blinks, face scrunching up in surprise before smoothing out with understanding. “We’re not talking about B anymore, are we? This is about the Replacement.”
Damian looks away. His fingers are clenched so tightly around his mug his knuckles are white and his chest is tight with- anger. That’s what it is. Not guilt or regret or- None of the things Father thinks are affecting him. (Although, to be fair, Father does think anger is affecting him as well. And he may not be wrong but. He’s not completely right.)
“Bruce find out you tried to kill him?”
Todd shifts closer, leaning forward so he can reach behind Damian to scratch Titus around the ears. Their arms brush and Damian holds completely still, watching the older boy warily. He and Todd are not enemies, per se, but this… this friendliness is unchartered territory.
“He wants me to apologise,” he says stiffly.
“And you don’t want to."
"It would not be sincere.”
Todd’s lips quirk upwards but it doesn’t quite become a smile. “That’s not the point.”
Damian frowns, brows furrowing. “Then what is?”
“To teach you a lesson.” Todd shrugs one shoulder, the simple gesture conveying a lot about what he thinks of Bruce’s parenting techniques. “You don’t want to apologise because it would be humiliating, admitting a fault or a weakness. He makes you do it anyway, makes you suffer the indignity of asking for forgiveness. It’s an unpleasant feeling. One you try to avoid in future by not doing whatever you did wrong again.”
“Oh.” When put like that, it makes much more sense. (Some detective he is if he can’t even figure out his Father’s motives.) “So all I have to do to get Robin back is apologise to Drake?”
“It’s a start.” Todd gives Titus one last pat on the head - and an “accidental” one for Damian as well - then scoots backwards until he’s no longer under the table. “Well, hide and seek has been fun, but unlike some members of this family I’m not freakishly short and my spine is not cut out for this kind of contortion.”
“Tt. You’re getting old, Todd.”
He gets a casual middle finger in response, “Respect your elders, Demon Brat.” “I’m not a Demon!” Damian snarls.
Todd holds his hands up in mocking surrender. “Of course not, my sincerest apologies.” A quick flash of teeth as he grins. “You wanna repeat that back to me? Y'know, for practice.”
His laughter follows him out of the room as Damian scrambles out from under the table and takes off after him. His Father will surely make him apologies for trying to kill Todd as well, but it will surely be worth it to wipe that smirk off his older brother’s face.