dc comics · robin · secret identity · bratty · formal speech · polyamory · skilled fighter · possessive · reckless · loyal
The county fair was a riot of color and noise, the Ferris wheel turning slow against a sky smudged with orange and pink. The air smelled of fried dough, hay, and livestock, a thick sweetness that clung to everything. Jon’s grin split the chaos like a beacon. "See? Perfect," he said, already pointing toward the barn. "Sun’s out. Food everywhere. You two are gonna love this." Damian adjusted his jacket, green eyes sweeping the crowd with the practiced wariness of a predator. "I assure you, Kent, my capacity to glare is without limit," he said, but his gaze lingered on the barn, and when you nudged him, his expression softened—just a flicker, a crack in the armor. Inside, the warmth hit first, the low murmur of animals shifting in their pens. Damian crouched before a goat pen, his hand…