#although I should probably head to the library anyway

[haikyu-mp4]

The Snowball Fight

word count; 818 – f!reader, part 2 of this

"I'm so sorry, Bo. I don't know if I can take another step.” You breathed heavily, leaning your hands on your knees. You two had been jogging for a few kilometres, and your legs were already complaining. Although the sudden nickname flustered Bokuto, he wordlessly trotted over and squatted in front of you. Weirdly enough, no part of him was annoyed at your tiredness. Probably because he enjoyed your company so much, but he wouldn't say that out loud.

"Jump on," he encouraged with a glance over his shoulder. You were the flustered one now, shocked at his offer but nowhere near declining it. Jumping on his back, he grabbed under your thighs when your hands hung around his shoulders. The rest of the way consisted of Bokuto walking with long strides, deciding not to speed up too much with you on his back. Very distractingly, you kept sending shivers down his spine by talking into his ear, asking questions about this or that. He would take the questions way too seriously, giving unexpectedly long answers, but you enjoyed that even more.

Because you were suddenly closer to his height, you noticed that he was wearing the scrunchie you lent him the day before. The detail made your smile broaden, and you hugged him just a little tighter.

Konoha was walking from the store after getting some breakfast and almost dropped his tote bag when he saw Bokuto carrying around a woman on his back. He quickly yelled and waved you over. "Kotaro!"

"Huh?" Bokuto was surprised and almost dropped you to the ground. Fortunately, you caught your footing and stayed upright before following Bokuto to meet Konoha halfway.

"I don't think I've met you before?" Konoha said, glancing at his old teammate with a look Bokuto hadn't seen before. "I'm Konoha," he immediately introduced himself, holding a hand out to you.

"Y/n, nice to meet you," you answered confidently.

"Beautiful name, where did you find her?"

Bokuto laughed nervously at Konoha’s blatant teasing. "Library,"

"Ah! You're the one who told him to draw his notes!" A light went off in his head, remembering that Bokuto told him about you the other day. This woman helped me even after I disturbed her studying. She must be very nice, then. She’s super nice. Cute, too. "The cute one."

You chuckled nervously this time. The cute one? "I only gave him the idea," you said, rejecting any credit.

"I bet he's grateful anyway." Konoha winked at his friend, not hiding the gesture from you at all.

"We should go now," Bokuto announced and pointed somewhere behind him.

"Sure, but I expect that you'll tell me next time you're taking her on a date." Konoha dropped that last bomb before walking away with an amused smirk when his friend started laughing nervously once again.

"He's weird." Bokuto looked down at you, and you smiled at each other with warm cheeks.

"Did you tell him I'm cute?" You decided to take advantage of the situation, loving how the man laughed nervously when he was embarrassed. I'm smitten.

"We should jog from here, so we're not late for class," he stated, trying to avoid the topic and jogging away from you. You stopped without him noticing and picked up a chunk of snow, forming it into a ball. Throwing it at his back with a mischievous smile, you laughed as it hit him square between his shoulders, some of it probably going down the neck of his shirt. He stopped abruptly, and when he turned around the look on his face had changed. This meant war.

Bokuto quickly made a snowball and threw it at your back when you ran away. The snowball fight didn't cease soon, and you both learned how competitive the other one was the hard way. You were running around and getting closer and closer to each other for the more fatal attacks. Cold snow melted on the skin under your clothes, and your chest heaved with both laughter and exhaustion. Bokuto finally ended it by tackling you into the pile of snow beside the road. Your breaths came out as smokey clouds, and you looked at each other with admiration.

"You win, Bo." Your voice was low and tickled his spine with sparks. The words gave him a sudden bolt of confidence.

"Maybe we should go out for real sometime," he suggested. The words shocked you, and a smile split your cheeks as you rested your head on the snow.

"I would love that."

"Cool. I really should go now, though, or I'll miss class." You looked at your watch and took Bokuto’s hand so he could pull you up.

"Go on, I'll text you." Blowing him a kiss, he stumbled but caught himself before turning and jogging away from you. That was smooth, Bokuto, real smooth.

"Bye, y/n!" He yelled over his shoulder.

"Bye, Bo!"

The Schoolyear Series ║ masterlist

[britcision]

FRIENDS IT IS HERE. As promised even! We are technically just under 20k for this chapter, but still not small enough that cutting it in half has stopped it from brutally murdering the app, so…. We’ll see how this posts! 😅

I did myself a whole honkin’ reread on the whole thing too, refreshed my lil reminders of what I named things and all the lil threads I was playing with… and hot damn it’s a beast huh?

The good news is, although we are getting into plot, we are getting out of the heavy stuff, at least for the next little bit! Back to our silly happy fun times with the boys 🥰

And, y’know, dealing with Jason’s death and first transformation and all. Totally all fine! Nothing to worry about! 😇

Today’s chapter is a lil Bruce-heavy in this front half because the main thing stopping me was that I got most of the way through before I realized I needed to rewrite Jason’s entire first scene, but I’m a lot happier with it now 😁

First Chapter and AO3:

Previous Chapter:

——————————

The Finished Core part 1

When it finally happened, Jason’s core coming in was pretty anticlimactic. For all they’d worried it might trigger a transformation, rile up the pit, or even have a physical shockwave… the event itself was almost disappointing. Buried busily in some paperwork for the library, Jason himself hadn’t actually noticed.

He’d already started feeling what he thought might be his core over the past few days; like a vibrating ball of energy, usually in the middle of his chest (although it wandered in all directions). Which would make the knot of tension that sometimes sat in his gut and sometimes went as far up as his throat… probably Pitty.

Not fun having a distinct sensation that went along with everything else the Pit was. Did nothing at all to ease his worries about what the hell would happen when they were both actually completed.

But when the day finally came… yeah, nothing. The soft, warm glow in his chest when he thought about the project had grown steadily stronger over the week and a bit he’d known Danny at that point, so he hadn’t really paid enough attention to notice a change.

They’d still been seeing each other every day, although now that the new school semester had started up it had slowed down to a couple hours in the evening. Jason had dived headlong into his restoration project both on Frostbite’s advice, and to keep himself from counting the hours. Which, apparently, worked?

The biggest disruption was actually Danny blasting in through the wall not a minute later, invisible until he dived through one of Jason’s freshly legal goons and almost knocked the table over. Luckily there were no actual Red Hood links lying around - Catherine’s name was staying clean, which was for the best since Jason still hadn’t thought of a way to bring it up.

Even now, back from another appointment with Frostbite to confirm all was well, Jason didn’t actually feel any different? It was official though; both cores were complete, and now all they had to do was wait until the pit matured enough to actually leave Jason’s body and do its own thing.

Now that he didn’t have any choice but to confront it, he couldn’t have said what he’d expected anyway, but… well, surely there should have been something? More energy? More corruption? Hell, even increased ghost senses or some indication that the powers would be coming in.

According to Danny, intangibility usually came with the pit dropping out of your stomach and feeling floaty. Accidental floating came with a head rush or feeling like falling. Invisibility just fucking happened.

All he felt was weirdly normal? The fancy ecto ice was working, and his little ghost succulent - that or all the time with Danny; even Pitty’s flares of emotion were manageable. The green haze hadn’t come back since meeting Lady Gotham.

And okay, maybe he was pushing that by going right back to the manor the next day, but listen. Frostbite had reminded him to do calming tasks, since Pitty should start being more aware of their surroundings now.

Baking with Alfred was as calming and soothing as Jason could imagine, without stapling himself to Danny in classes. And sure, he’d helped with Danny’s homework the past couple nights, but the guy would get sick of him eventually. Faster if they stayed attached at the hip.

(And that had been another “fun” tidbit Frostbite had dropped on them; if they were actually making their own ghost baby, they’d have been able to trade the core off between them. Jason hadn’t thought anything could make that idea sound appealing, but if he coulda just stuffed Pitty into someone else… well, he probably wouldn’t actually wish its corruption and constant tantrums on anyone else, but having a break woulda been nice.)

Now that his core was done, technically the daily hanging out probably wasn’t as necessary. So long as Jason had some backup plans to keep himself calm and in control. Which should mean that they could go from hanging out as a necessary chore to just… friends.

And since no one in the city wound Jason up like Bruce, if he happened to also be at the manor he’d have a trial-by-fire for his shiny new core. He’d kept his word and tapped out of patrol since meeting Lady Gotham (and apparently Harley had taken the manor in fire and glory the night after and locked Bruce… somewhere for two full days), so he’d not heard from B since.

According to Tim, Constantine hadn’t returned to Gotham at all.

The thought of their names only stirred angry bubbles from Pitty, and Jason absolutely wasn’t self destructive or a masochist, so he was just testing to see how far that’d last. How careful he’d need to be, and how aware the little guy was.

So obviously he wasn’t even all the way into the manor before he ran into the man himself.

Stopping short, Jason’s fist clenched more from force of habit than any actual desire. Sucking in a deep breath, he thought of his ghost succulent (which had started glowing faintly blue a couple nights ago, which was hopefully a good thing?) and carefully unclenched. Nodded a little stiffly.

This would be the first time they’d been alone together since… shit, he didn’t even know. He hadn’t seen the guy without the buffer of at least one other bat in months.

“Bruce,” he said warily, half hoping the man could just… be normal. For once. Nod, say hi, fuck off about his own business. He couldn’t still be on his anti-Danny crusade, could he?

The man actually flinched, face twitching through a couple of expressions Jason couldn’t even guess at. A sudden urge between his shoulder blades did nothing to help, distracting him long enough for everything to be smoothed under the usual masks.

If Bruce just had a damn aura… okay, that’d be one change with the completed core. All of his attempts to reach out with his own aura before had basically involved his whole body actually leaning in the same direction.

That… urge, itch between his shoulders, if that had been his aura trying to reach out, felt more like an entirely new muscle group. Curiosity won and Jason focused, trying to follow the urge and reach out… and wasn’t sure it had worked at all.

Because all he could feel was sorrow and regret, and that didn’t sound like B. At all. His compartmentalizing was out the ass, sure, but what the hell would he actually feel sorry for?

“Jason?” And from the sound of it, not the first time he’d said his name. Great.

Shelving the apparently-faulty aura for now, Jason frowned back.

“I’m here to see Alfred.” It wasn’t exactly a warning. Wasn’t exactly a threat, although it carried the possibility. Meant that if B pissed him off enough to leave, he’d face some British disapproval.

Bruce’s shoulders sagged just a little, and then he drew himself up, his face firm and resolved. Jason tensed automatically; if he actually tried to bar him from seeing Danny face to face, would he still be able to walk away?

That was why he’d brought the glacierfrost. Slipping a hand into his back pocket, he crushed a crystal quickly before the man could open his mouth. Wintergreen mint burst across the back of his tongue, another brief flicker of distraction that, for some reason, came with another pang of sorrow.

“I’m sorry.”

Jason nearly stumbled, and he hadn’t even been moving. Bruce looked… tired, all of a sudden. More tired than he could remember ever seeing him.

“Wait… what?”

Bruce gave him a sad smile.

“It’s been brought to my attention… multiple times… that you should have heard that from me alone first. And then I kept adding more and more to be sorry for. And I know you don’t want to see me, so now seems like the best time to start.” It was jerky, and awkward, and probably the most uncomfortable Jason had ever seen Bruce in a conversation.

Which only served to confuse him further. Bruce overplanned everything; he never acted without at least two layers of backups. It was why he had a million plans for every possible micro-scenario. He didn’t do spontaneous.

“What are you even talking about?” He asked, half exasperated, and Bruce’s smile widened a fraction. That only made it more self deprecating.

“There are too many things to count, but… Jason, I’m sorry I sprung the apology on you at the gala. I thought having the world as my witnesses would show you I meant it, but I should have asked first. I should have apologized first, to you. Alone. I’m… aware what it says about me that I couldn’t.” He was almost wearing one of Brucie’s self-deprecating smiles now, but the edges were raw. Unpolished. Certainly not camera ready.

Real?

Jason’s mouth opened and closed a few times, his brain entirely short-circuited. Of all the things Bruce could have said to him… of all the things the man might apologize for, he’d honestly forgotten all about the damn gala speech.

Forcing himself to focus, he folded his arms and regarded his former father figure warily.

“Sure, that’s a place to start,” he agreed, more sarcastically than he’d meant to. But he couldn’t take it back.

There was another moment of stiffness, and then Bruce’s shoulders sagged as well as he breathed out, still looking… well, so much more human. More breakable, more fallible. Or was that just from hearing him admit he’d been wrong?

“I do mean it, Jason. I did mean it,” he said softly, piercing blue eyes unusually gentle as he looked him over, and suddenly Jason knew what was bothering him.

The mask. The iron mask of Batman, the bumbling shield of Brucie. B always had a mask, over every interaction. Every situation, every possible scene, B always had a character to play. And he played them well.

That was what looked wrong about him. He wasn’t… intentional. His posture was open and unthreatening, his face lax in a way it never was while he held every muscle in check.

This was just actual, sincere B.

Jason wasn’t completely sure why that made him want to run or cry, but it said a fuck of a lot about him too.

More that he just couldn’t bring himself to return it.

Sucking in a sharp breath, seriously considering grabbing for another crystal, he nodded sharply.

“Okay. Now what.” Because that was the thing; Jason had never wanted B to be sorry that he hadn’t come for Jason. That he finally hadn’t been on time to save him from himself.

He didn’t want the apology, he wanted things to change. To be better. For Bruce to accept that it had happened, and Jason was who he was now because he’d decided to be, not the pits or Tallia or the Joker.

He wanted so many things.

Bruce was searching his face, eyes sharp even as he consciously kept the rest of the expression open. Jason could see the tick of muscle in his cheek. Fuck, was it that hard for Bruce not to put on the act?

After a moment, he spread his hands. A gesture of peace? Not holding a weapon, not tensed for an attack?

“That’s all. For now. I just… wanted you to know. I’m sorry. And I’m…” the expression pulled a little, becoming pained, “I have been told I am overreacting to the news from Amity Park as well. I should trust your judgement. So I’m pulling myself from the case to focus on the Anti-Ecto Acts.”

This time Jason’s jaw just dropped. B… Bruce never. Never pulled himself from a case. Not for broken bones, ruptured organs, not even if he’d died.

It was almost worse than the rage; all of a sudden he was lost at sea, the one grounding, immovable rock in his life swept away. Part of him was even angry at that - at B suddenly deciding that now, this time he was going to be reasonable.

When all Jason expected from him was judgement, antagonism, stupid overbearing demands and being held at arm’s length, now all of a sudden the Bat was human.

It was too late to pretend the moment hadn’t happened, to completely hide his shock, but he also couldn’t stop the bluster from rising. Not the way his eyes narrowed suspiciously, even when every part of him that had been Robin desperately hoped this was real.

“And what the hell brought that on?” Not the accusation in his voice, although for once Bruce didn’t rise to it. He just chuckled dryly, like he’d been expecting Jason’s reaction.

“Because you were right.”

And now Jason was fully on edge again, scanning the man more closely for any signs of hypnotism, mind control, that this was a clone or a replacement. A trap or a trick. Because B… Bruce would never…

Bruce raised both hands quickly, possibly expecting Jason to just… jump him. Which, to be fair, would have been a more normal interaction.

“You were the one who brought the Amity Park situation to our attention. And you’re right, that I can’t expect your doctor or any other ghost to come here to help you until it is safe for them to do so,” he added quickly, and Jason rocked back onto his heels.

Of course, the caveat. That made sense, bitter in the back of his throat as it was. Just an inarguable set of facts.

Not like he’d ever actually admit that Jason’s judgement was reliable or anything. Folding his arms again (partly to stop his fists from clenching), he gave Bruce a sceptical look.

“Right, so what finally yanked your head out of your ass about it?” He asked sharply. Bruce gave him that same wry smile.

“Diana. And Harley. And Alfred. And Selena. I have been… extensively informed I had my head up my ass. So. I’m sorry for that too. I just wanted to tell you before I left, since I don’t know when we’ll see each other again.”

And it shouldn’t have been funny that he actually looked more pained talking about this, admitting a mistake, than he had when nursing broken ribs in the infirmary. Than he’d looked during any of their fights, than when Jason had all but grabbed his face and forced him to see that it really was him, that his dear little Robin came back wrong.

But dark humour was a refuge for all the bats, and if Jason didn’t laugh he had a horrible feeling he’d cry. All that tension, all those days he’d worried about what he’d say or do when they came face to face again… he’d never have imagined any of this.

Could imagine another bloody battle before imagining Bruce saying sorry.

All of a sudden he was just tired. Ha. Dead tired.

Nothing drained the life out of him like dealing with Bruce.

“Great. So where are you going?” It was almost a rhetorical question; he didn’t really expect an answer.

Should have, though. Obviously B had to stick his foot in it again.

“Amity Park. As Bruce Wayne, not Batman,” he added quickly when Jason’s head snapped up, glare sharpening, “it seems the logical place to begin work on the acts.”

And alright, Bruce didn’t sound defensive. He never did; just obstinate, which meant so many things that guessing when it meant what was a losing game.

Jason groaned loudly, raising both hands to scrub down across his face. Because of course all that weirdness hadn’t changed a damn thing. B was gonna B, creepy and intrusive and all.

“And look into Danny.” He said flatly, locking eyes with Bruce in time to see his expression twitch. Was he actually gonna lie?

Apparently not. Bruce sighed and nodded.

“My focus will be on establishing a connection between “Brucie” and the Anti-Ecto Acts, and investigating the GIW. Danny has been involved in both, and Zatanna has requested the elder Fentons provide me with protection,” he said like it was anything but a weak excuse.

Jason stared at him for a long moment, and then figured fuck it. Actually telling them before he left was technically still an improvement, and Danny and Jason were both well aware that there was gonna be some nosy bullshit.

He’d warned Danny this was gonna happen, and Danny had said it was fine. That he didn’t care about anything Batman might find… and knowing just how badly the Justice League had fucked up was going to eat the asshole alive. Which he could have avoided just by listening.

About to just walk away, Jason hesitated. There was actually one thing… technically not a necessary for a halfa, but fuck it. Might as well get B used to some ghostly etiquette early.

“Have you asked Danny?”

Bruce stilled, giving Jason a complicated look that mostly felt like judgement. Like Jason should know better than to ask.

“I was under the impression that removing the Anti-Ecto Acts is a priority?” He said stiffly, all awkward tension again.

Jason really did roll his eyes this time.

“Sure, but you’re going to his haunt. You text Superman before investigating in Metropolis.” Which technically hadn’t even been true when Jason was actually Robin, but B did text Clark before getting caught investigating in Metropolis. By anything but Kryptonian hearing.

The protocol basically only applied whenever another hero wanted to operate within Gotham because only Batman cared, but it was on the League’s books.

Bruce had picked up the wording though, because of course he had.

“His haunt?” He asked carefully, that tiny tick between his brows that meant he was processing starting up.

Jason rolled his eyes harder. For emphasis. Had JL Dark actually missed this part of the briefing? He was so not writing up Ghost Etiquette 101 for the league. No way.

But. It. Might be kinda cool. To have for himself. Especially since it was gonna be increasingly relevant.

“He’s a ghost hero, B. He died there, he protects the city. He’s like, the only one who’ll actually get your territorial crap, because in his case it’s part of his makeup.”

Actually, might be part of B’s too. Danny hadn’t said how liminal Bruce in particular was, but it really wouldn’t surprise Jason if claiming a haunt was part of it. Or if Lady Gotham had already picked out a spot for him.

That thought stung, so he dismissed it immediately and turned towards the kitchen. Hell with the brownies he’d been planning, he was gonna need something much more complicated to keep his mind off the latest wave of bullshit.

Alfred liked soufflés. Jason could activate the house defences to keep the little gremlins out until they were done.

“Just fucking text him, B. Entering a ghost’s haunt without permission is declaring intent to throw down, and that’s a fight none of us need.” No matter how much he might like to watch B go up against the ridiculous power-set Danny was packing.

Sure, the Bat went toe to toe with the gods, but that was with plans, tech, and often, backup. Apparently he still didn’t know shit about ghosts, so it’d be fun to watch him try and adapt on the fly… especially when even Danny wasn’t sure how many actual powers were on the table.

**

Bruce hesitated for a long moment, looking at Jason’s retreating back.

That had gone… frankly he did not trust his own read on Jason enough to tell. Neither of them had yelled. He’d said what he was prepared to; he was still working on the appropriate format for the rest.

Jason… hadn’t reacted. Not with anger, which was a blessed relief, but not with anything else either. Except disbelief. Exasperation. Shock.

Not really any aggression, though. That had to be a decided improvement. And while part of Bruce suspected he’d been told to inform Danny so the boy could hide anything unsavoury….

He’d known that was likely to happen when he told Jason his plans. Jason would tell Danny; his allegiances there were firmly (and worryingly quickly) established.

Telling Danny himself… there was a chance that Jason had been serious about it being a matter of protocol. A formal request, for contact with an inter-dimensional entity.

Despite that entity being present and active in Bruce’s own city without so much as a nod to the Bat. But then, Batman was not a ghost, despite what the goons liked to suppose.

Firmly marshalling his own suspicions, Bruce pulled out his phone to message the youngest Fenton.

Stopped.

Bruce Wayne didn’t have the boy’s number. But Danny knew at least Nightwing’s identity; it was possible he knew them all.

He was going to Amity Park as Brucie Wayne, not Batman. But Brucie Wayne had no way to get the correct phone number. Unexpected contact from Batman was… well, expected, to an extent.

And his investigations would be handled and presented as Batman. Surely no one would challenge Brucie Wayne to a fight?

Mind made up, Bruce took his vigilante phone out and did a quick scan through his childrens’ updated contact lists. Most of them seemed to have been enjoying the company of the Amity Parkers; it wouldn’t be hard to get Danny’s contact information.

**

So. New year, new problems. Danny used to say it as a joke, but this year it was looking pretty darn literal.

Last year, for example, he hadn’t had to worry about his parents finding out about his supposed “love life” from a magazine (that Jazz must have sent them after they’d gone back to Amity Park, the traitor), and calling to hound him for details.

He’d managed to talk them out of driving the GAV straight to Gotham to threaten Jason into “treating him right”… which Jason thought was funny solely because he still didn’t actually know how large Jack Fenton was, nor how intense Maddie could be.

He still thought of them as civilians, and maybe a little less than competent, thanks to the database and their zero capture record.

Maybe Danny was cultivating that ignorance specifically so he could watch the moment of truth in person. Sue him, it was funny.

Unfortunately, since the magazine had also included that the gala they’d been “hooking up” at had been to celebrate Jason’s return from the dead, his mom had reached the halfa conclusion on her own. Danny had wanted to let Jason decide when to tell her, but that very first phone call the first words out of her mouth had been “Daniel James Fenton, have you met another halfa without telling us?”

And Danny had been so taken aback by them actually noticing anything (it was to do with ghosts, of course they’d noticed, he’d kicked himself for days after) that she’d taken his speechlessness as confirmation.

So.

They had that out of the way before they even said hi.

Despite Danny’s firm assurances that he and Jason weren’t actually dating, the papers were making the whole thing up (the photos hadn’t helped, but his dad seemed to buy that he’d been. Trying to help Jason fix his shirt. After the rogue attack, y’know), his parents had insisted on another call with Jason.

And Jazz. Because he had to introduce his sister to his new boyfriend too.

Jason had… taken it well? Hadn’t gotten much of a word in edgewise, around Jack Fenton’s boisterous laughter and insistence that he come around some time soon. He’d agreed with Danny that they definitely were not dating, which.

They weren’t.

They just weren’t.

They were just. Friends. Who hung out after classes in the evening. And texted all day. And told each other their deepest darkest soul secrets in like, a week after they’d met.

Danny’s mom had seemed a little more convinced by the end of the call, but still insisted Jason should come down to Amity Park anyway, to get to know the family.

Danny was still in denial about it being even a little bit helpful, but Jason had decided to drop the Fright Knight bomb right away. It was the actual real reason they were so close now, so it made sense as an explanation that wasn’t them being partners or whatever.

(Danny still hated it. Resented he couldn’t be trusted to just… have a friend. It always had to be something stupid and dramatic.

And he was totally offended by how immediately relieved his mom had been that he’d have someone “looking after him”. Like he wasn’t a whole ass adult for years already, and the king of a realm for longer than that.)

And now he was gonna have to call them back, and probably get a message to Fright Knight, because Danny’s newest problem was that Batman now had his phone number.

And was asking his permission to go to Amity Park to deal with the Anti-Ecto Acts.

(“Brucie Wayne” was officially the one going for the Acts, the message only said that Batman would be escorting the billionaire and gathering evidence separately, but Danny wasn’t fucking buying it.

And since Batman had his phone number and had used it, Tucker could technically get into Batman’s phone and prove it. Like Constantine showing up at Wayne Manor left a shadow of a doubt.

But noooo, Danny knew all about dramatics and billionaires and their sketchy underground labs. He could play along.)

Which, technically, might wind up solving one of his biggest problems.

It was also gonna completely ruin all the work he and Jason had done persuading the Fentons they weren’t dating; he could already hear his dad booming delightedly about meeting future in-laws. Because why else would Jason’s dad go to visit?

Not like there were actual laws on the books declaring Danny as a mandatory extermination target. Or like the Justice League might finally have gotten their thumbs out of their asses and want to check in.

Clearly Danny’s love life was the only thing that mattered.

At least he wouldn’t have to worry about that crap from Frighty; all the ghosts were gonna know all about Danny and Jason’s soul resonance (be still his beating fucking heart that was still ridiculous). He would have to let him know a superhero was gonna be in town though.

Actual ghosts weren’t likely to mistake Batman for one of their own and these days most of Danny’s rogue gallery was cool about not picking fights with humans without Fenton tech, but Danny figured better safe than sorry.

And.

Maybe.

Really wanted to see Batman and Fright Knight hang out. They were gonna totally love or totally hate each other, and either way he was a little sorry he was gonna miss it.

Unless he gave in and took time off class, kidnapped Jason from whatever work he did, and made the trip home… because he’d been direly warned that if he did show up without Jason, Jack Fenton would drive him back to Gotham personally. So, no. Nope. Not happening.

The long and the short of it was that instead of being blissfully free of his parents nagging him to visit until the summer, he was now fielding calls and texts demanding he come back home for March Break, at the latest. And bring Jason.

Mom wanted to “assess him”, which was fucking terrifying and the more Jason didn’t take it seriously the more Danny was tempted to actually make the trip. It would at least come with a defined end date. And force Jazz to take a break if she wanted to come too.

She at least had been less insistent on calling him every single day to bug him about it; probably because she was busy frying herself to death at university. She’d apologized for missing the group chat too, and the first family phone call, but it wasn’t a huge surprise.

Jazz had had the helicopter parent firmly knocked out of her by double majors, which Danny used to think was a good thing. Now he considered it might actually be a sign she was… not cracking under the pressure? But not taking care of herself.

Hopefully it wouldn’t return full force once she got some actual sleep and decent food in her.

Honestly, Danny wasn���t unaware that this was the most normal his problems had ever been. Just a few years ago he’d have done anything but wish to Desiree that his biggest problem would be “my parents think I’m dating one of my friends”.

Right now it was looking pretty good too, actually. Because at this precise second, Danny’s biggest problem was that he was running out of excuses not to talk to Nocturn.

***

Tim was beginning to think he had a bit of a crush on Tucker Foley. It was a surprise to him as much as anyone else; normally the kind of fawning adoration that tech geeks usually followed him with was an instant turn off. There was just… no point getting close to people who saw him as an idea, not a person.

And, frankly? The mere existence of Timblr probably would have been a red flag for anyone else. Sure, Tucker had closed it down, but it still existed - and Tucker Foley could have taken care of that easily.

The thing was… even under the hero worship he’d caught in Tucker’s eyes when they were first introduced… well, Tucker wasn’t exactly respectful to his heroes. That did tend to follow along with a friend in a teen hero career; everyone else was instantly less cool by association.

Tucker just plain wasn’t a good fanboy. He hung on Tim’s every word, right up until they started talking tech - the subject he most admired Tim for. Didn’t admire him enough not to cut him off half way through an explanation, call an idea “archaic”, or ask if Tim was serious.

(And okay, once or twice he hadn’t been; just testing his technical chops.)

The thing was, Tucker wasn’t only a genius with regular technology, he was a prodigy in an entirely new field of software and occult collusion, and he knew it. He was delighted to upgrade Tim’s systems (although Danny would still need to do the full ecto-infusions; Tucker could interface, but didn’t produce his own ectoplasm), and more than happy to point out everywhere they needed improving.

Tim genuinely respected his opinion, which wasn’t a distinction he gave to many people who’d never worn a cape; he’d already cc’d the other, Lucius Fox, into his and Tucker’s email chains. (Lucius was very enthusiastic about the oncoming apprenticeship - for him.)

And Tucker was funny, allergic to personal privacy, and… well, Tim was pretty sure he’d felt those first twinges when, as promised, he tagged Tucker in to help interrogate the Riddler.

Digitally, obviously. With Tucker’s classes starting back up and the New Years hangovers finally clearing the board, the next time they saw each other in person might be upsettingly far out. But Tucker had cheerfully hacked his way into Gotham PD’s systems and made himself comfortable while Red Robin and Batwoman waited for Riddler to be brought in.

Tim had so few pure pleasures in his life, but watching Kate try to keep a straight face when the interrogation room’s speakers began blasting what was essentially a stripper theme perfect for Eddie Nygma the second the door closed?

Riddler had been utterly baffled as well, talking over the beginning until they reached the chorus, where the singer practically spelled out his name. His stunned silence had given way to a burst of offended protest that was entirely undercut by the way his fingers kept time.

As the teen hero in the room, Red Robin was allowed to snicker at him, but Batwoman had to pretend to be an adult about it.

And when the first song ended, silence had fallen for what must have been a perfectly calculated fifteen seconds, and then the Jeopardy theme began playing.

Of course, soundtracking hadn’t been Tucker’s only contribution to the interrogation, just Tim’s favourite. Red Robin had the tablet from the gala back from evidence, from which Tucker had cheerfully admitted in Matrix style scrolling green text that he’d been the one back-hacking Nygma’s files… and locking him out of them.

And replacing every single link Nygma had clicked from the night of the gala to the day Batwoman hauled him in to a random page from Riddles.com, which Riddler had declared a new vendetta against every time anyone would listen. It was beautiful.

Robins were professionally annoying, it was part natural talent on all of their parts (except Damian) and part intensive training on how to disrupt thought patterns and push people into mistakes. Tucker could have led the class, and Tim had been overtaken by a powerful urge to kiss the smug grin he could feel through Tucker’s text straight off his face.

Of course, Tim had a boyfriend. And had been overtaken more than once by similar urges for almost every one of his friends, when they did something brilliant.

Steph called it oral fixation, Tim preferred positive reinforcement. Conner found the whole thing extremely funny, especially since Tucker still stumbled over his words if Conner was so much as looking at him.

Which made all of his siblings trying to tease him about Tucker’s “crush” on Tim look ridiculous, by the way. Tucker Foley was not a subtle man; he couldn’t even string a sentence together around someone he actually liked.

He could string plenty of sentences together around Tim, the two of them could finish each others’ half the time.

(He wasn’t upset about Tucker’s obvious interest in Conner either; Tim knew damn well his boyfriend was an incredible catch and he was lucky to have him. Tucker’s crush was just… peer review.)

Already he was counting down the days until March Break, when Tucker was going to visit in person again. Honestly, he might push to get a zeta put in nearer to MIT in the meantime.

It wasn’t like the institute was never targeted by supervillains, it would just be practical.

But Tim himself couldn’t suggest that now, because then all of his siblings would jump on the Tucker thing and he’d never hear the end of it. It was a dilemma… because even if Conner or Danny could just go and pick him up again, zeta was just faster.

It had nothing to do with missing time that Conner and Tucker were bonding, or being a puppy waiting for his master to come home, whatever Steph said.

(And honestly, Tucker Foley? Not exactly commanding “master” material. Until he was talking about his area of expertise. Then he was certain and confident and got this really attractive gleam in his eye…)

The quickest solution would be getting all of Team Phantom officially involved in the Justice League, of course. Then he wouldn’t even need to suggest it; close zeta access was vital for all of the heroes.

But Team Phantom couldn’t join the League until Phantom’s existence was no longer illegal. So they had to dismantle the Anti Ecto Acts. Bruce was investigating the GIW, and planning what he probably thought was a secret trip to Amity Park, but none of it was happening fast enough for Tim… because it probably wouldn’t be done by March Break. In two months.

He’d broken more than just the American government in two months; all it took was the right leverage. And a complete lack of self restraint.

So, y’know, Tim had a new side project in and around his other Gotham cases. All he needed was a house and then senate majority, and they could get those laws repealed the second the government came back from break.

Lois Lane was already working on the story, Clark would probably join Bruce in Amity Park (whether he knew Bruce was there or not) for interviews. There was only so much public pressure could do though, and that never worked fast enough either.

Not compared to Tim’s preferred methods. He liked the personal touch.

****

Fun fact, slower core formation? Had not meant slower ghost powers. Not in Jason’s case, anyway; not even a week after his core came in, a coffee cup had slipped straight through his hand and shattered on the floor.

He’d stopped handling Alfred’s good china that day, mindful of Danny’s many horror stories about the school lab’s glassware. Alfred hadn’t actually questioned it, although he’d gotten a couple of raised eyebrows when he slid a junk mug toward the kettle.

It was just a good thing he’d already cut down patrolling; he’d been planning to take a step back anyway for a while. Just until he got the balance right between being Red Hood and the newly resurrected Jason Todd.

He’d had to stop entirely, at least until he got the intangibility under control. Sure, becoming temporarily impervious to weapons would be convenient when he got to choose when it switched off or on. Phasing various limbs half way through solid surfaces and getting stuck though?

No.

Not a chance in Hell. That was not an acceptable risk.

Invisibility had started not long after, which had definitely complicated his trips to the manor; all the bats were good, but vanishing completely out of the blue? That would raise comment.

The good news was that the glacierfrost seemed to be helping there too; either because of the ecto in the ice, or just keeping his emotions regulated, which kept the powers from acting up. Jason wasn’t taking unnecessary risks, but he’d noticed that for at least a couple hours after a hit, he was in more control.

Intentionally turning the powers on was still a struggle, but apparently that’d just get better with time. And probably fighting - that was the common denominator under all his ghost problems.

Ghost Fight Club was officially starting the second he’d got the transformation down, but how exactly they were going to try and trigger that in a controlled environment was still… less clear than Jason would like.

They’d have to work it out soon though; the only other ability that was likely to kick in before he could transform was flight, according to Danny. Time was a-tickin’.

And… alright. It wasn’t like Jason was sat at home every night; that was what he and Danny were doing after school now that they’d cut back to at least a couple days a week. A little practice on budding ghost powers, with backup.

“Surveying his haunt” was what Danny called it, but it basically meant Danny going ghost and Jason putting on a domino he claimed he borrowed from Dick, and the two of them bouncing around the Alley. And occasionally Danny pushing him off roofs to see if flight had kicked in yet.

(It hadn’t, but he still had his grapples, and refused to let Danny rescue him from his own bullshit.)

Sensing the city’s natural ecto had gotten much easier with his core fully developed, and Danny was teaching him how to mark it with his own. Pitty’s ongoing corruption was fucking it up though; it was still producing corrupted ectoplasm, and actually more of it now that they were both whole.

(Jason had started sleeping with Frostbite’s ghost succulent next to his pillow. That was how he’d noticed the new blue glow, which he still meant to ask about. It was still firm and strong, and it… didn’t feel sick?)

Corrupted ecto reeked so strongly of that corruption that it was completely useless for anything else, apparently. So until they finally finished purging Pitty, what all their little adventures actually amounted to was tagging.

Danny made them special ecto-spray-paint, and they spent the nights finding weirder and weirder corners to spray a little mark onto. Jason would have liked to use something to do with Red Hood, for the symmetry, but. Well. He hadn’t worked out how to have that conversation yet.

He’d been making do with little ghost doodles. It had been years since he’d done any real graffiti art, but it was like riding a bike, and the ecto sprayed really well. A cartoon ghost wasn’t all that hard anyway; an elongated little blob, occasionally with little fangs or unattached clawed hands.

He’d been going for something like an Among Us bean, but Danny had declared that he was drawing Pitty, and well… it stuck. Doodling little Pit ghosts was the order of the day, ranging from cute little Pittys (modelling good behaviour, Danny called it) or vicious little bastards, depending on how both Jason and Pitty had been that day.

Because that was definitely one piece of good news, in with all the bullshit new ghost powers was causing. Before he’d felt surges of rage, the moments where the Pit was reaching out and trying to affect him. Universally bad, aggressive, and violent, pre-Danny.

He could kinda feel it all the time now, like a heated scarf draped over his body, or the constant breathing of a dog just behind his ear. It was quiet mostly, and he was beginning to suspect it had cost more energy than he’d ever expected for it to reach out to him at all.

For all that he’d worried about it being too much like raising a kid, it… well, the nice way to say it was probably that it wasn’t that bright. It could talk to him in ghostspeak, kind of; most of what he actually heard felt like emotional reactions, closer to speaking through auras than words despite how much it’d felt like it was crawling up his throat.

The Pit could handle basic concepts, recognised Danny’s name, but other than that? It mostly seemed to follow Jason’s emotional lead… and then dial it up to eleven. Which, yeah, was exactly what he’d been scared of when he thought it might be like, a whole ass person. Toddlers were terrifying little sponges.

Jason’s experience of kids wasn’t exactly what he’d call normal, sure, but Pitty was reminding him less of a kid and more and more of some kind of small and bitey animal.

Which, y’know, was a relief. Sort of. It wasn’t like he could fuck up an animal in the same way as he could a kid. Nowhere near the same level of responsibility.

Just. When he thought about the pit rage, the idea of it being attached to something which literally had fangs and claws was not exactly reassuring. Even at the size of a chihuahua.

A little impromptu art therapy while they marked his haunt wasn’t exactly helping with that part, but it wasn’t hurting. And he was trying to explain that feeling bad was not actually dangerous or harmful… via spray paint.

He was only about 70% sure that Pitty could see.

But it got him out and about, kept him in shape at least for swinging from roof tops, and gave him an excuse to hang out with Danny. It did involve actively avoiding anything he’d normally investigate (at least until he had a reasonable explanation… or brought up the Red Hood thing)… but it felt good. It was soothing.

Even knowing full well he’d made plans, prepared extensively, still had his guys making sure the Alley was safe and all was well, he still found himself itching to patrol on the nights he stayed in.

He could only assume that was part of the whole Haunt thing; he had good people working under him, and a couple of bright lieutenants that while he’d never let them wear the hood, he was comfortable giving them some solo enforcement missions to keep the fear of Red Hood in everyone’s hearts. All relevant parties, anyway.

Luckily he still had the library project as a convenient excuse for the bats. It kept them off his ass, and Jason could admit that it probably wouldn’t have taken much to persuade him to take a night run.

And get his ass stuck half way through some fucking wall somewhere, or lose a foot to a rooftop, and need to break himself free or call Danny in the fucking suit. Nope.

(He’d been tempted to let his family think he was saving his nights for Danny, which wasn’t even completely untrue; Danny wasn’t over every night anymore, not with his school schedule, but if he wasn’t over they texted.

Jason had begun saving a meme folder just for things to show Danny, which had quickly absorbed his full folder for death jokes and just kept going. Danny was going to be a very supportive “father” for their fake pit-kid, and had clearly been stockpiling dad jokes to send back.)

Honestly though, Jason was just relieved he’d already planned to slow the vigilante side for a while in the wake of his official revival; there was a lot that had to be done to come back from the dead, and a lot more he could do with official Wayne backing for areas of Crime Alley that Hood couldn’t touch.

He’d even let some of the bats in on those plans before Danny showed up; it wasn’t a surprise that he wasn’t patrolling. They were mostly leaving him alone about it, although Dick had offered to pop his Red Hood gear on and run a couple of patrols if things got too rowdy.

Jason had told him to fuck off, then got his street kids spreading the rumour that Hood was gearing up for something big. Let people think that the momentary quiet was just the first rumbles for an oncoming storm.

Hell, let them think Hood was in cahoots with Jason Todd-Wayne; that or preparing to run him out of the Alley. Let both of his lives work together for a while. The rumours shut half the fucking low-level dealers up; no one was pushing anything within three blocks of his territory, in case Hood was planning an expansion.

That’d boil over after a while and bite him in the ass if he didn’t go and kick something down, but for now it worked. He had so much to do for the library, for the new shelters from the Wayne foundation, for the soup kitchens. He actually was pretty busy, even on his nights in.

Fuck, he’d even taken time to hang out with the actual Alley kids, as Jason and Hood. The mouthy little shits kept him grounded, and maybe he’d tried it as a trial run for Pitty, but since that wasn’t gonna be the same problem he’d kept it up as a test of his own patience.

Which had. Very abruptly. Become the cause of one of his biggest concerns. Because the biggest change since his core came in had actually taken him a couple more days to notice.

Because now, Jason could see the fingerprints of the new entity.

That hadn’t been fun to work out; he’d been intentionally taking it slow until his core formed. Part of him had been sorta hoping to be able to just avoid anything that might set them both off until the Pit was ready to pop out on its own. Nothing related to the new case he couldn’t start, nothing related to the Joker or pits or any of that shit.

So when some of the kids had been showing up with some weird shadowy smudge on their clothes, he’d assumed it was the usual Gotham grime. They claimed not to see it, he threw them at the laundry room and cussed them out, it always came off.

Now the Curse, the Curse was staying out of Crime Alley entirely. He’d seen it during the day once or twice, a shadow attached where it shouldn’t be, a flicker over Damian or Tim’s shoulder. He always knew when the Curse was around now, a frosty fog filled his lungs whenever it was close.

(Danny had called it his “ghost sense”, which was lame but Jason didn’t have a better idea.)

And those smudges didn’t have the same kind of ozone-aftertaste that the Curse left in his mouth.

And then one of his girls, maybe seven years old, had come in with that same kind of smeared shadow sticking through soft black hair. He’d had some sharp fucking words with the older kids about that, he didn’t expect them to stay pristine at all times, but for fucks sake it was clumping.

Basic hygiene fucking mattered on the street, none of them could afford a proper de-matting or even a decent razor to shave their heads, so Jason had instilled the importance of bare-minimum finger combing in every one of them years ago. You could live with a fucking rug dragging at your skull, but it made absolutely everything harder.

He’d sat the girl on a stool and washed her hair in a bucket himself, while repeating the same fucking lecture to the other girls. Noticed half way through that while the sticky shit was indeed washing out of her hair, it wasn’t being broken down by the soap.

It was clinging to him instead, seeping into the creases of his fingers and under his nails. He’d tried not to visibly react, giving her a last rinse and wrapping her hair in a towel-hat that she didn’t stop touching for the next forty minutes, fucking it up a dozen times.

The smudgy crap had washed off his hands eventually, but when he saw Danny the next day he’d visibly backed up a few steps, then given Jason about six shots of ecto because his was apparently rancid again. No prizes for spotting the connection, and from there it was obvious.

And then he’d seen Harley the next day, that same smudgy crap a handprint around her fucking throat, and he’d seen red. Hot, angry, blood red, and it not being green had startled the life out of him.

(Harley noticed. Duh. It was her thing. And while Jason couldn’t just tell her some malevolent fucking entity made from her shitty ex was crawling through the city, he’d been as honest as he could be.

Harley definitely couldn’t see the smudges. Danny hadn’t had any answers or way to make it stop fucking touching people.)

Hypothetically, this was all gonna be good in the end. It’d make things easier, being able to see and track this shitstain’s work.

It did not feature in his “don’t get pissed off or think about work” plan.

It was just faintly possible that obsession, self flagellation, and a desire to be personally responsible for fucking everything might be more than just Bruce’s problem. Could maybe be a family affair.

Jason made more pies. Occasionally narrating what he was doing aloud, half for Pitty’s benefit and half for Danny’s when the little shit was crashing on his couch.

It was fine. He was coping. Another couple weeks, Danny reckoned, and Pitty would be out of his body and he could get back to his fucking life.

With a pet Pit ghost in tow, apparently, but if the worst came to the worst he could fucking soup the thing once it was outside him.

(He was also going to teach Danny to make soup. Proper soup. On principle.)

**

Preparing for his trip to Amity Park had taken longer than Bruce had expected. Not least because Alfred had finally run out of patience, and sentenced him to bedrest for the next 12 hours after he returned from the Justice League meeting lest he unlock the tranquilizer guns and give his children free reign.

In the old days, when he’d just become Batman, Bruce had assumed Alfred would never be able to catch him anyway. He’d been cocky and confident in his skills, and often ignored Alfred’s demands.

And yet the man always seemed to know, raising a disapproving eyebrow at Bruce every time he’d slipped back into the room just before Alfred made his rounds.

And then Steph came into his life, and Bruce learned all too fast that Alfred had merely been waiting for appropriate safeguards. That was three kids along of course, but by now Bruce knew exactly why it had been Steph Alfred had waited for.

His relationship with Dick was too tumultuous. While Dick never feared Bruce and was perfectly happy to join Alfred in nagging and bossing him around, by the time Dick moved out Bruce had half expected to only see his son at Justice League meetings, if at all.

They were different men, and Dick had always had an anger in him that Bruce couldn’t fathom. He’d mastered it, his control very rarely slipping, but… Bruce had trained Dick himself, and he was one of a very short list of people that Bruce had no concrete backup plan for.

Nothing but hope to make him cocky with the first attack, and pray the second caught him off guard.

His relationship with Dick hadn’t improved until Tim came into his life… and helped him get his head out of his ass.

Jason? Jason had been an angel. A scruffy, beaten down angel with badly bruised wings when Bruce first picked him up, but he’d flourished in Wayne Manor. He’d taken to Robin with joy and enthusiasm, but had more devotion to his studies than any of Bruce’s kids before or since.

He’d even stay in to study for tests, and if things had been different… perhaps he’d have been the one to break Bruce’s obsession with his night life.

But Bruce had begun taking that good heart for granted, pushed when he should have listened, and sent Jason to his death.

Tim had a hard enough time keeping Bruce from killing himself, along with anyone who stood in the way of his mission. He was a solemn, serious little boy from the start, and though Dick took a more active role this time around and declared himself a big brother (possibly to spite Bruce)… well.

It had to be Steph.

Steph, who would vehemently deny being one of his from whoa to go, was just like all of his children; a feral little gremlin. But Steph had that one more element too, the one which young Dick had had in spades but pulled back from with Bruce years before.

Steph liked to have fun.

Tim treated Bruce as a mission just as much as Gotham was Bruce’s, and Dick had never forgiven him for Jason. Or the fights that went before. Neither could pick up a Nerf gun and hunt him through the city in pure play in those days.

Until Steph gave them the guns, of course. Now any and every one of his children would happily take a tranq gun from Alfred and merrily stalk him through the manor and city at large, and even to the Watchtower if he tempted fate (and Tim).

Bruce was powerless against them, although pride warred with frustration every single time one of them managed to drug him to sleep. He’d trained them well. Well enough that they’d put what was right over what he wanted, that none of them were even a little afraid of him.

He’d planted the seeds of his own destruction.

So when he’d seen Duke and Dick hanging “casually” around the halls while Alfred escorted him to bed, he’d resigned himself to twelve hours of rest.

He’d slept for sixteen. And woke feeling much better, to his own chagrin. His head felt clearer, the migraine almost gone, and the sudden swoops of nausea had finally begun to pass.

He still had odd moments, especially when he’d been on the computer planning the trip to Amity Park for too long, but he’d reluctantly agreed with Alfred. He needed to fully recover from his concussion; that meant rest. And taking days and weeks instead of hours.

Amity Park would still be there, after all. He couldn’t get back the years they’d been late. He’d had to concede another two weeks.

Zatanna had also demanded an explanation for why he was suddenly interested in the town - luckily the Anti-Ecto Acts provided a sufficient cover. They were even most of the reason he was going.

She could also see the gravity of the situation, and offered to put him in touch with some local specialists who claimed to have tech that would keep him from being possessed. Specialists named “Fenton”. Because of course they were.

She’d offered him a ward as well, but mostly in jest. She knew how Bruce felt about magic, and had told him science was on the table almost immediately.

Bruce knew full well it wasn’t a coincidence. Formerly regarded as quacks, the Fentons had been featured prominently in all of their Amity Park news sources. Usually as menaces and a hazard to society, which aligned with what the Mansons had told him.

Still, their actions had nothing to do with the character of their son. Danny Phantom had been Amity Park’s protector for six years, although he’d not had many serious ghosts to fight for the last three.

As Foley had claimed, the ghosts seemed to have settled into a status of local nuisance that was oddly aligned with the Fentons senior; loud, intrusive, and often an inconvenience to your day, but not the threats to life, limb, or infrastructure that had characterised the first years after the portal opened.

Amity Park’s general consensus seemed to be that Danny Phantom had tamed the ghosts, won over the Fentons, and quite efficiently saved the day. He hadn’t been sighted there much in the past year, but that was because he’d been in Gotham.

In school. Finally being able to study and look towards his future.

His main heroic endeavours in the last three years of his career had involved the same GIW, the Ghost Investigation Ward that Foley had told Tim about. They unfortunately had not followed the general trend of de-escalation… although they had been rather subdued in the last year.

It felt different to Bruce, though. Incidents were less frequent, but those occurrences where they did find a ghost had become markedly more violent. The decreased frequency seemed to have lulled the townsfolk into believing they were also less of a threat, but the problem with pushing your enemies into a corner was how much more dangerous a cornered animal became.

There was something worrying happening with the GIW, that would have borne looking into even if he wasn’t also looking to understand Danny better. Preparing everything he’d need for the official investigation was most of what had slowed him down.

Of course, he was going to Amity Park as Brucie Wayne, not as Batman. Vlad Masters’ friendship was going to help him there; the man had been delighted to invite him down for the weekend when Bruce had reached out.

A little faked enthusiasm for football and interest in Vlad’s favourite team and he was a seemingly completely open book. He was more than happy to give Brucie the grand tour of his little town, and even promised a personal escort from the airport.

Bruce was beginning to suspect that getting away from the man might be more of a challenge, although he was another potentially useful source of information on the Amity Park situation.

Not that Masters was a particularly high priority source. But Bruce could admit he may have been hasty to dismiss his views on Danny as being biased, and as mayor he should know something about the GIW operations in his city… and given how many contracts with the agency could be traced back to his companies in the early days of the agency’s formations, he would be a much more serious subject for investigation than a source.

The good news was, everything was now in place. He had Danny’s permission and would be flying down to Amity Park in a matter of hours, and had already bought out the entire top floor of a local hotel, so he should have plenty of privacy to operate from.

With any luck, being able to set things in motion to repeal the Anti-Ecto Acts could also be a first step towards patching things up with Jason… and with Danny. No matter what conclusions Bruce came to in Amity Park, the Justice League owed Danny Phantom a serious apology, and the Infinite Realms some swift action.

Their negligence could have sparked an inter-dimensional war, and nearly had cost a young man his future. Bruce was self aware enough to admit that the guilt of that knowledge was a major factor in why he hadn’t spoken to Danny face to face again.

Yet.

At least Danny had given him permission to visit and explore his haunt. That had to count for something.

He was going to apologize. Probably after giving Jason the proper apology his son so richly deserved. Perhaps Jason would even be willing to help him work out how to properly apologize to Danny too; Bruce wasn’t good at apologies at the very best of times, but Harley had made it explicitly clear that he was going to be getting in a lot of practice.

**

Now, ya can call Harley Quinn a lot of things (and people definitely have), but one thing she ain’t despite the goofball act? Stupid.

Somethin’ was up in Gotham, somethin’ one heck of a lot weirder than all the weird shit that had marked her time in the city.

Oh, she’d gone an’ had another word with Brucie after Waylon told her how Jason’d had to leave through the roof after his talk with Constantine.

(She’d hunt Johnny-boy down later too, probably just after he decided she wasn’t gonna come for ‘im and stopped hiding, but odds on? Brucie’s fault, and Connie was just his unfortunate messenger.)

The thing was, he’d decided to sicc Johnny on poor Jason before they’d had their little talk, so by the time she caught him again he was already all downcast and shamefaced. Already admitting he done fucked up.

And it just wasn’t satisfyin’ to kick him while he was down, an’ while he was already tryin’. He’d even decided on his own to leave both boys alone for now, to let things cool down before tryin’ again.

Now, Mama Quinzel didn’t raise no dummy, she could see a million ways ol’ Brucie’s plan to go and try an’ fix Amity Park for Danny was gonna go wrong. But she wasn’t an expert at this ghost business, so she didn’t pretend to be.

She did exactly what she’d told Brucie to do; consulted an actual expert.

She asked Sammy and Jazzy, Danny’s big sis who was just a real darlin’, in their group chat (which had been popping off since Sammy was a lil sweetheart and set it up for ‘em; Jazzy-boo was of doin’ all kinds of neurological shit but she’d read some psych textbooks in her day, and Harley loved watching a self taught student grow). An’ then she hunted down Jason and Danny, to ask ‘em directly.

Which had been when she’d got her first clue that somethin’ was up; when Jason looked at her like she was still wearin’ a certain other clown’s paint, all stiff and locked up and full of anger.

See, that’d happened before. When they first met, him fresh outta the grave, her fresh outta Hell. When he’d asked if she and Joker were really through, an’ she’d told him hell yeah.

When he’d asked if she’d get in his way of killing the asshole.

That anger, all tight an’ tense an’ burstin’ had been wrapped around his throat then, chokin’ him on it. It was cooler now, more human, more like somethin’ the sweet lil sunshine child who could melt her heart with his tears could feel.

It still wasn’t, ya’know, in the vague vicinity of healthy, but she’d seen Jason Todd about to lose his shit before. An’ his hands shook when he touched her, when he asked what the hell she’d done to her neck.

Harley’d taken a good long look in several bathroom mirrors since. There was nothin’ she could see there, but Harley Quinn had been a short term guest in more than one Hell. There was plenty of shit she was all too happy not ta see.

Then there was ol’ Harvey. She’d run him down faster’n the bats, because she wasn’t also chasin’ Riddler, Great White Shark, at least three new plots from ol’ Pengy, or a suspiciously quiet and freshly escaped Scarecrow.

Two-Face had been all quiet an’ polite since his heist on the young Mr Todd’s party went tits up, so he’d flown under their radar.

Not hers.

Harley always made time for her old friends.

And Harvey had been weird too. Twitchy, on edge, jumpin’ at shadows. That happened if he thought the ol’ Bat was after ‘im, but he’d had no reason to think that. An’ for all he’d flipped his little coin and played up the bit, Harley knew when her friends were off.

Something had put Harvey on edge. Stuffed a bee up his ass and made him all snappy.

He’d even tried to pull a gun! On her! His sweet, darlin’, perfectly loveable and innocent Harleen!

So, ya’know, when she’d touched ground again an’ he’d run outta bullets, she’d knocked it outta his hands before he could reload and reminded him there were more than just Bats to fear. There was also her bat.

An’ by the time they were both all tired out and slumped against each other to order smoothies, he’d admitted he didn’t know why he’d decided to go fer young Jason. To attack their buddy Brucie’s boy.

Now, Harley wasn’t sure Harvey knew silly ol’ Brucie was the Big Bad Bat. She suspected he did, somewhere, in the part of him he hid from all the unpleasantness.

If he knew, he was repressin’ it real deep.

But he’d seen word of the gala, an’ something inside him went dark, and he’d flipped a coin. Got all sorts of plastic explosive of all things ready to really give Gotham a show they wouldn’t forget.

An’ then when it was time to roll out, nunna his cars’d start. An’ he’d flipped the coin again. And stayed home.

She snagged the detonators on his explosives on the way out, on principle. There were some rules after all, and while the Bats could certainly handle anythin’ ol’ Harvey could build, he shouldn’a shot at her.

Harley Quinn was officially out of the rogue game, but that had nothin’ ta do with shit disturbing. She was beginning to wonder though.

Somethin’ was weird in Gotham, a kinda energy in the streets that wasn’t the same black stubbornness she’d known and loved. Somethin’ that felt a little nastier. A little closer to biting.

Now, Harley Quinn was a lotta things. She also wasn’t a lotta the things everyone else thought she was.

She was no quitter. She was no fool. She was no coward to turn tail from some nasty vibes. She might still be a teensy weensy bit mentally disturbed, as you say, but she had her shit together.

An’ she knew when somethin’ else was tryin’ ta play with her head.

Much as she loved Gotham like a second home, she was beginnin’ ta wonder if she shouldn’t head back to Pammy an’ let their mystery of who was givin’ Coney Island a hard time sit with the Bats.

——————

The song Tucker’s playing for Tim and Nygma is here:

Tag List - @welcometosasakiworld @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence e @skitscratched @blackroserelina a @snoodly-boop @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin n @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 7 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson n @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this s @tkiesai @greenpyrowolf @frivolous-pastel @honeysuckletook @adorkable1291

IMPORTANT NOTE! Since about half the tag list no longer links to a blog, I will probably be retiring it for chapter 20, so either comment and let me know you still wanna be on it, or proceed on over to AO3 for alerts!

Part two:

[gideonisms]

okay because tumblr hates me it did not save my draft of a mini fic I wrote for a prompt but I'm posting it anyway. The prompt was:

the smut is DELICIOUS but my stupid romantic brain needs some fluff...so how about.....griddlehark sneaking into the library for some midnight reading? 👀

And I can't remember who sent this one, my apologies. Hope you see it, whoever you were! I promise this is fluff but I needed to write some original flavor Griddlehark so let's pretend this is what happened after avulsion ❤️

When Gideon crawls out from her nest of blankets, aware of her surroundings at last, Harrow is gone. Gideon should have expected this. If she’d thought volunteering to have her soul sucked out through her innards was enough to melt the heart of the lady of the Ninth, she would have been wrong. Even her hallucination of Harrow hadn’t stayed to comfort her.

Not that she needs comfort. After all, Gideon isn’t dead. She just feels like she is.

Groping around on the floor for her sword, the one lady who would never betray her, Gideon almost knocks over a cup of water. Harrow must have left this for her out of some misguided sense of pity after they’d stumbled back to their rooms.

Although it makes Gideon feel a little bit like a pet left on its own while its owner goes to town, she takes the water and drinks it in huge gulps, draining the whole thing. Afterwards, she feels almost like a person—if that person had been smashed to bits and then taped up wrong.

Now to find Harrow.

Gideon gets up, aching in every bone. She considers just lying back down, possibly forever. How much trouble could Harrow even get into on her own? She’s probably just passed out somewhere again and can wait there until Gideon comes to find her.

No, Gideon should check. After all, what good is she as a cavalier if she lets Harrow wander off and get eaten by a bone monster right after they’ve won another key? It would just be embarrassing.

So she checks Harrow’s room—empty, but she does find another glass of water in there, which she drinks hastily without bothering to question how long it’s been sitting on the nightstand. She rests for a minute on Harrow’s bed, clinging to her sword more for support than because she thinks she could swing it at something.

She leaves the room as silently as she can and closes the door behind her.

The corridors of the First House are empty and dark as she searches. She keeps thinking she sees movement out of the corners of her eyes, but after the fourth time she whirls around to find nothing, accepts that this too may be a side effect of the soul sucking.

She grasps her sword in both hands as she turns down a corridor she hasn’t taken before. At this point, she’s beginning to feel not only lost, but also dizzy, and is considering calling it quits and hoping Harrow hasn’t done anything too stupid.

But there, at the end of the hallway, is a closed door. And underneath the door, a light shines. Not the light of the old-fashioned florescent bulbs or even the warm, glowing lanterns she’s seen some of the priests carrying around. No, this light is a wan, flickering candlelight that only serves to make Gideon feel colder and more unwell. Gideon would recognize that light anywhere. It has to be Harrow’s.

As she creeps towards the light, she lowers her sword. When she reaches the doorway, she tries the brass handle—locked, of course. She knocks, and behind the door, she can hear the unmistakable sound of bones clattering.

“Harrow,” she tries to say, but it comes out as more of a croak. She hears a rustling opposite the door. She tries again. “It’s me, you numbskull. Let me in!”

She’s seriously not feeling good. Maybe this whole standing up thing was a mistake.

The door suddenly opens—Gideon sways forward.

“Gideon?” Harrow says. And then Gideon passes out.

When she comes to, she’s resting on a dusty couch, head pillowed by something soft and warm.

“Harrow?”

“Shut up, idiot.” Harrow sounds small and frightened. Gideon blinks her eyes open to see her adept looking down at her from quite close up, fingers hovering in midair as though she can’t decide whether to touch Gideon or not.

Gideon thinks deliriously that she might as well, since she’s already got Gideon’s head in her lap.

Gideon looks around. There are bones strewed on the floor—probably from Harrow’s efforts to get her to the couch. And they’re in some type of library—quite small, even by Ninth standards, but Gideon can tell that it once would have been cozy.

There’s a fireplace set into one wall with ancient chairs across from it. Everywhere books are piled up; this isn’t the tidy organization of someone who owns a library for the aesthetic, but the more familiar jumble of books and crumbling papers from a person who once loved their work.

She looks back to Harrow, whose face is once again painted, but hastily. The smudged circles of black underneath her eyes make her look tired and worried.

“Gideon?” she says again. “Are you all right?”

Although Gideon has looked her death in the eyes more than once this week, it’s the tone of panic in Harrow’s voice that makes her feel like she must truly be dead. She reaches up to pinch herself on the arm, but Harrow catches her wrist.

“Woah, hold it, that’s my move,” Gideon says.

But Harrow just checks her pulse. Her thumb sweeps over the place where Gideon can feel her heart beat hardest. Then she does touch Gideon’s face—fingers brushing her hair aside to feel at her forehead.

“No fever,” she mutters. “Probably dehydrated.”

“You’d know a lot about that, wouldn’t you? You have a lot of experience, my sickly scion. Malnourished monarch.”

“This isn’t a joke! If you had collapsed somewhere out there, where I couldn’t find you in time—”

“Dehydration duchess.”

“You could have died! Did you even read my note?”

“What note?”

“You idiot,” Harrow says again, with feeling. “I left it beside the water cup.”

“So that was you. Thought it might have been the monster.”

“There is no—” Harrow breaks off and pinches the bridge of her nose, breathing in slowly. She smudges her paint when she does. There’s a little bit of skin poking through just at the top of her nose where it meets her forehead. Gideon almost reaches up to touch it without thinking.

“You will not leave the room without my permission in the future,” Harrow says.

“Like hell I won’t! You snuck off without me. What did you expect me to do?”

It’s just like Harrow to use this as an excuse to keep Gideon locked away somewhere. What else did Gideon expect?

But Harrow looks down at her with huge scared eyes, as deep and dark as the tomb itself, and Gideon can’t even be angry. Which sucks, because she’d planned to be angry with Harrow for the next few hours at least. But now that she’s with Harrow, now that she’s assured herself Harrow isn’t dead, just holed away in some obscure corner of the House reading as normal, a sense of calm steals over Gideon. She could almost go back to sleep here.

As though Harrow can read her mind, she says, “I expected you to still be asleep.”

“Tough luck. I’m as awake as I’ve ever been. I could fight off a billion bone monsters right now. Just give me my sword, and—wait, where’s my sword?”

Harrow gestures to the edge of the couch near Gideon’s feet, where to Gideon’s great relief she finds her sword propped up.

“I haven’t taken anything of yours,” Harrow says. “I only—I needed to do more research, and I thought you were safe in our rooms.”

Gideon looks around. Books are piled up on the reading stand next to the couch, right next to an ugly ninth house candle Harrow’s using in clear violation of every fire safety rule Gideon has ever learned. Harrow has of course littered the floor with books too. The candle smells waxy and unpleasant, but the familiar flickering of the feeble light makes something in Gideon’s chest unclench.

“And was it worth it? Did you find anything?”

Harrow shakes her head. “Nothing of note. This seems to be a room for the more…esoteric interests of the Lyctors. There are books here on almost everything—anatomy, various discredited magical practices, historical romances that seem improbable at best. But nothing that helps us. It’s all just…what they liked. It doesn’t tell me anything about how they achieved Lyctorhood.”

“Do they have any skin mags?” Gideon asks hopefully.

“No, you moron.”

“But how can you know if you haven’t checked for them?”

Harrow doesn’t dignify this with a response. Instead, she picks up a book from the table and starts idly thumbing through. She doesn’t dislodge Gideon from her lap. Gideon thinks about getting up, going back to her room. Maybe forcing Harrow to come with her. But the thought of leaving this couch sends a wave of nausea through her stomach, so she decides she can best do her duty as a cavalier by staying here and watching for threats.

It's seriously weird to be in Harrow’s lap, and it would normally disgust her to be so close to her adept.

From this close, Harrow smells of bloodsweat. It’s not a pleasant smell at the best of times, and it’s grown worse over the time they’ve been at Canaan House. But the warmth of her—better than the empty fireplace in the corner, anyway. Gideon’s eyes start to drift closed.

Then something occurs to her.

“If you aren’t finding anything useful, then why are you still here?”

Above her, pages turn slowly. Harrow is silent for a long moment.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she says finally. “I needed a distraction.”

This might be the most honest thing Harrow has ever admitted to Gideon. Gideon has long suspected that Harrowhark spends so much time studying bone magic because she doesn’t have any other hobbies, aside from conjuring skeletons to trip Gideon while she’s going down the stairs. It’s nice to have that confirmed.

Maybe once Harrow has seen the appeal of books that aren’t dusty academic tomes, she’ll grow more lenient about Gideon’s preferred reading material.

Not that it will matter. As soon as Harrow becomes a Lyctor, Gideon will never have to see her again. Harrow will never again tell Gideon what she can and can’t read. She’ll never again feel Gideon’s pulse, checking for life.

She probably won’t even care if Gideon lives, once she’s a Lyctor.

Gideon squirms around. She hates to call it nestling, because it’s not. But she finds a more comfortable position on the couch. Harrow adjusts herself above Gideon too. She props her elbow on Gideon’s shoulder as she turns another page.

“Will you read to me?” Gideon says. She must be out of her mind with exhaustion.

“I don’t see why you would want that.”

“I need to stay awake. Protect us from threats and all. It’s not because I crave your dulcet tones, don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried about that. I know you hate me, Nav.”

Gideon almost agrees on instinct, but something stops her. Maybe it’s the quiet of the room, or maybe it’s the warmth of Harrow’s horrible little body, but she doesn’t have it in her to put up the usual fight.

Anyway, Harrow doesn’t seem to need a response. After a moment, she clears her throat and begins:

“Call me Ishmael. Some years ago—never mind how long precisely—having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world.”

And although this intrigues Gideon, although under other conditions, Gideon would have loved to hear a story that wasn’t about how bad nuns go to hell and good nuns get to serve the King Undying, Gideon nevertheless finds herself drifting off into a comfortable doze.

She tries to keep her eyes open, but Harrow’s clear, calm voice reads on, and Gideon’s eyelids droop until she can no longer watch the flickering of the candle. At the very edges of her consciousness, she thinks she feels Harrow’s fingers brush lightly over her forehead again, smoothing back her hair.

“You can sleep,” dream Harrow says. “I’ll kill the light.”

[writingwithciara]

Warning Labels ~Nate Macauley~

summary: getting all types of warnings from her friends about nate macauley, y/n knows she shouldn't be falling for him. but she does anyway, knowing it will most likely end badly.

word count: 2.5k

pairings: nate macauley x reader

warnings: swearing, mention of drugs

a/n: just recently watched One Of Us Is Lying & immediately fell in love with nate. not sure why but i'm glad it happened. this takes place in a world where bronwyn doesn't exist (although i love her)

masterlist

"Who'd you get as your science partner?" Addy set her lunch tray down and looked at her friend.

"I got Nate." y/n sighed. "Has he ever handed in a project in his life?"

"Not since the 7th grade." Jake shook his head and laughed. "You're pretty much screwed if you want a good grade. He hardly comes to school, but when he does, he's usually only here to sell drugs."

"I'll just do the project myself and put his name on it."

"That's not fair. He shouldn't get credit for not doing anything."

"Jake, I've been doing the same thing for you for the last 5 years. Don't tell me it isn't right."

"Okay, fine. Let him believe that he can slack off all the time and still manage to get decent grades while not deserving them." Jake picked up his lunch tray and Addy followed. Cooper looked at y/n and shrugged before following the others out of the cafeteria.

During her free period, y/n decided to go find Nate. Luckily he was in the very first place she looked.

"Nate, we need to talk."

"If this is about our science project, you don't have to worry. Let's come up with a topic and I'll do my fair share of the work."

"Are you serious? You haven't done work on a project since the 7th grade."

"Okay, that's not true. In 7th grade, Jake & I were partners on a project & I actually did a lot of the work but he turned it in on the day I was really sick, so he got all the credit. Ever since then, teachers will put me with the rich kids who usually don't do their own work & they just expect that I won't do any of the work. And then the same situation repeats itself over and over."

"That's not right. You should tell somebody."

"Who is the administration going to believe, huh? The rich kid obviously. To them, I'm nothing but a drug dealer."

"Maybe we can change that. I'm not a rich kid & I won't take credit for any work you do, as long as you actually do something on the project."

"Okay. Meet me at the library in town after school. I have a few topics that I want to discuss." Nate climbed on his bike and took off before y/n could respond. She shook her head and headed back inside for her last class of the day.

After school was over, y/n walked towards the library. She was expecting to be waiting for Nate for a few hours but when the library came into view, she saw Nate sitting on the front steps. When he saw her, he jumped up excitedly.

"I really wasn't expecting you to show up on time."

"Well, I got here a little earlier than planned. I know, it's shocking."

"Very, given your reputation to not show up to things."

"I'm a senior in high school. I think my reputation needs a change." Nate chuckled and looked at y/n. "Let's get started."

Nate & y/n spent 3 hours trying to come up with a good science project that wouldn't take too long but would produce some impressive results. They narrowed their list down to a few and decided that they'd pick one and start it tomorrow.

After the library, Nate gave y/n a ride home on his bike.

"Thanks for the ride." she smiled and climbed off, handing the helmet back to him.

"It was no problem. It's on my way home anyway." Nate put the helmet on the back of his bike and looked back at her. "Thanks for not giving up on working with me for this project."

"We gotta change your reputation, right?" she offered him another smile and turned around. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Same time, same place?"

"If you're referring to school, then yes. But if you're talking about the library, I'll probably be a little late. Got practice for an hour."

"Oh, right. Forgot you were a cheerleader." he chuckled and started his bike. "Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow." Nate was gone before y/n could respond.

"See you tomorrow, Nate Macauley."

The next day at school, Nate showed up to all of his classes and only sold kids drugs during breaks and lunch. When the day was over, y/n went to the gym for practice. Addy looked up from doing her stretches.

"Hey, y/n. Over here."

Y/n approached her friend and started her stretches. "Hey, where is everybody else? There's only 5 girls here."

"I'm not sure. There was only 2 when I got here." Addy grabbed onto her foot and leaned over. "So, I noticed Nate showed up at school today and actually attended classes."

"Yeah. Science class was interesting. I mean, watching the teacher yell at him for missing so many assignments was hilarious. It was even better when he was handed all the workbooks and papers."

"I'm sure he wasn't pleased with it."

"It was funny, but I do kind of feel bad for him." y/n stretched her arms out.

"Oh well. Serves him right for missing so much school." Addy checked over her shoulder when the door slammed open. A few more cheerleaders walked in and took their usual spots. "Where's the coach and all the other girls?"

"Haven't heard from coach all day. Have you even seen her?"

"No, we haven't. Maybe she's not coming." y/n looked around. "Should we just leave?"

"I'm definitely leaving." Addy stood up and stretched one more time. "You wanna go see a movie, y/n?"

"I would love to but I gotta meet Nate at the library to work on our science project." y/n stood up and went to the locker room. Addy followed and opened her locker.

"You're not gonna start ditching us for Nate, are you? Because that's just not right."

"I'm only going to be spending time with him until our project is finished. That's it."

"Good, because we can't have you falling in love with him. It would not be good for you or your reputation."

"I appreciate you looking out for me, Addy, but I don't think you guys are ever going to have to worry about me falling in love with him. It's just never going to happen." y/n gave her friend a small wave and headed off to the library. When she walked in, Nate smiled at her.

"Hey. I wasn't expecting you for another 40 minutes."

"Coach didn't show up so we all decided to leave."

Nate chuckled. "One afternoon with me and you're already ditching? I wish I could say I'm shocked but I'm really just proud of that."

"Relax, Macauley. It wasn't a class. It was just practice. I don't get graded for it."

"I know. But you still ditched. I like that." Nate smirked. "Have you given any thought to the project I suggested?"

"Yeah. I think it can definitely be done if we work nonstop on it. I'm sure it'll be impressive too, given your skills."

"My skills?"

"Yeah. I've seen you fixing cars and bikes and other stuff."

"You've been watching me?" he raised an eyebrow at his partner.

"No. Of course not. Your place is on my way home and sometimes I can see you outside working on some kind of vehicle. Plus, you fixed up my brother's car last year. It was great."

"Oh. Well, thanks. I work hard when it comes to something I love." he looked at the textbook in front of him. "Shall we get started?"

"In a minute. I actually have something for you." y/n reached into her bag and pulled out a tupperware container. "Yesterday, you said the brownies I had were delicious, so I made some more for you last night."

"Seriously? That's so kind of you." Nate took a brownie from the container and took a bite. "Wow. What do you put in these?"

"Like I'd ever reveal my secret ingredient." y/n smirked and pulled out her notebook. "Okay. What materials are we going to need?"

For the next 2 weeks, y/n and Nate spent 3 hours together every day after school working on their project. As Nate put the final touches on it, y/n took a moment to watch his muscles contract against his shirt. The voices of her friends floated around in her head as she watched,

"You can't fall in love with him."

"It's not good for your reputation."

"He's already corrupting you."

"He's not good enough for you."

"All he does is skip school and sell drugs."

"He's a bad influence on you."

Nate finished his work and stood back to admire it. "What do you think?"

"Huh?"

"I asked what you thought of the project."

"Oh. It looks amazing, Nate. You did good."

"You mean we did good." he looked at y/n and smiled. Like her, he had voices bouncing around in his head. Most of them were of his dad and a few were his friends, but they were all telling him that he shouldn't get too close to y/n. She was only going to turn her back on him as soon as they handed in their project, so he needed to distance himself from her. "Hey, I gotta go. But I'll see you at school on Monday."

Before y/n could turn around and say goodbye, Nate was gone. When y/n got home, she called Cooper, knowing he wouldn't judge her for how she was feeling.

"Coop, I don't know what I'm going to do. All of our friends are going to hate me for how I'm starting to feel."

"Y/n, it's going to be okay. Nobody can help who they fall in love with." he took a second before continuing. "Besides, who are they to judge, really? Addy cheated on Jake with TJ and is only hurting herself by not telling him. You're just catching feelings for an actually decent guy. That's way better than what they're going through."

"Thanks, Cooper. You really know how to make me feel better."

"It's what I'm best at." Cooper chuckled on the other end of the line. "I gotta go but feel free to call me if Addy & Jake give you shit for hanging out with Nate."

"Alright. Bye, Coop." y/n hung up and looked at her ceiling. She started remembering how close everyone was back in elementary school, even Nate and Jake. The memories were mostly happy, aside from the few that were too heartbreaking to remember. Y/n wanted nothing more than the good moments back. She wanted to be able to tell her friends how she was feeling, without receiving judgement from them.

Maybe in another world.

When Monday morning came around, y/n looked for Nate but couldn't find him. Assuming that he just slept in, she headed to Science class and handed in their project. Luckily their teacher was going to let them present it in class tomorrow instead of today.

At lunch, Nate was still a no-show & it was beginning to worry y/n. Cooper noticed her discomfort and pulled her aside.

"You alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Your mind has been preoccupied since I saw you this morning & you've been looking around the cafeteria like a crazy lady. Luckily nobody else noticed." he touched her shoulder. "Is this about Nate?"

"God, I hate that you can read me so well." y/n slumped her shoulders. "I really thought he was changing, you know? I thought he'd be here to present our science project with me, but I haven't seen him all day. Do you think he took some drugs?"

"Why would that thought even cross your mind? You know better than anyone that he's been trying to stay sober. If you're so worried about him, why don't you go see him? I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for his absence on such an important day."

"I can't just ditch school. That's not like me at all."

"You care about him, right?"

"Well, yeah but-"

"Then go to him. I can cover for you here."

"Thanks, Coop." she kissed his cheek and ran out of the school. Luckily Nate's house was not far so she didn't have to rush. When she got to his house, Nate was in the garage. "Nate, we need to talk."

"What do you want, y/n?"

"I want to know why you haven't returned my calls or texts all weekend and why you didn't show up at school today."

"The project is over so I figured that you should go back to hanging out with your friends and I'll go back to being alone all the time. It's no big deal for me."

"It is a big deal. It's a huge deal. I know you, Nate. And I know that you enjoyed these last 2 weeks because it gave you someone other than your buyers to talk to. You don't like being alone, just admit it."

"Why can't you let it go? I don't want to hang out with anyone. That's why I do what I do."

"What is your problem? You were fine on Friday...and we used to be friends. What gives?"

"You really want to know why we aren't friends?"

"Yes, I really do. So why don't you tell me?"

"When we got to high school, you got hot & that's just not fair!" he approached y/n with a finger pointed at her face.

"How is that not fair? You got hot too!" y/n looked at him. "But you don't see me pulling away from this friendship, do you? What's not fair is that you're pushing people who care about you away when you know that it's only going to hurt you in the end."

"You think I'm hot?" Nate's scowl suddenly turned into a smirk.

"No. I didn't say that."

"Yes, you did." his smirk kept growing. "You just said it like 10 seconds ago."

"That's not the reason I came over here." y/n looked behind him. "Why don't you want to be friends with me?"

"Because you're hot and popular. You've got a good reputation and being friends with me will only bring you down. I care about you enough to not let that happen."

"I don't give a damn about my reputation anymore, if you can't already tell by me being here in the middle of a school day." y/n took a step closer. "And if you really cared about me, you wouldn't let reputations get in the way of that."

"Look, what if we become friends again and end up falling in love or something? That could ruin the very fragile relationship we barely have. I don't want that."

"I'm willing to risk it, Nate." y/n looked up at him. "Please tell me that you're willing to do the same."

"Fine. For you, and only for you, I'm willing to risk our friendship for love."

"Love, huh? Do you really feel it?"

"Yeah, I really do. How about you?"

"Despite all the warnings from my friends, I absolutely feel it too."

"Good because," he pulled her close and looked into her eyes. "I really want to kiss you."

"How about we start with a date first, huh?"

"Okay. Deal!"

taglist: @worldlxvlys

[thebucketpail]

When You Accidentally Kill a Clown Pt. 7

Pt.1 prev ao3

Jason (cute guy from library): Hey you mentioned that you like Astronomy right?

: Yeah! It's one of my favorite topics. Why?

Jason (cute guy from the library): well, it's just that, the Gotham planetarium is holding a special event this Saturday for a special comet or something, and I was wondering if you wanted to go? Here are the details:

[Open Attachment]

: !!! I would love to! That sounds like so much fun!

Jason (cute guy from the library): great! I'll pick you up at 6 on Saturday then? Or would you rather meet me there?

: I wouldn't mind if you picked me up :o

Jason (cute guy front he library): Awesome! I can't wait.

: me neither! This is gonna be so much fun! I'll see you then!

“Hey Danny,” Anne called from her place leaning against the counter. “Who’re you smiling at?” she asked with a smirk, " a cute girl?"

"Heh, not exactly," Danny responded, one hand moving to rub at his neck.

Anne raised one eyebrow. "A cute guy then?" Evidently she took the blush rising in his cheeks as a yes. "Ooooh what's his name? How'd you meet? Tell me everything."

Danny couldn't help but smile as he responded, if a bit stuttery, "Oh, uh, his name is Jason. I met him at the library the other day, he uh- he caught me when I tripped," he said, blushing. Anne just nodded.

"Know anything much about him yet?"

"Yeah! He's really into classic literature and he must workout or something because his biceps are huge and-" Anne cut him off as the bell at the door chimed and she had to take care of the customer. Once they ordered she gestured for Danny to continue.

"He sounds really great, you have any plans?" She asked.

"Yeah actually, we're going to the planetarium this Saturday. And it's really cool because I haven't been able to go properly stargazing since I moved here, but he offered cause he found out how into Astronomy and stuff I am." Of course there was that once he had tried flying above the smog of Gotham to see the stars, but it was like it just went on and on. Then of course when he had finally managed to get past the cloud cover he had almost gotten run over by a plane. Danny hadn't attempted since.

And it was really sweet of Jason to have suggested it. In fact Danny didn't even remember mentioning stargazing all that much In the first place. They had been texting basically non stop for a couple days now so maybe it was an off hand comment, but he had been sure to spare the man from any major info dumping so as not to scare him off. Although it probably wouldn't have made much of a difference anyway considering how big of a dork Jason turned out to be.

Danny was pulled from his musings by a short string of curses followed by a loud thump. "Work you fucker dammit-"

"You need help with that?" He asked. Anne looked up from the espresso machine she was practically wrestling with, looking like she was mere seconds away from sending it through the window.

"Sorry, it's been acting up all day, I think it's jammed or something," she replied, moving out of the way as Danny scooted behind the counter. " I don't really know what you could do, but be careful its still kind of hot" she trailed off as he began disassembling the machine. Gaping a bit when he touched the peices that should be burning his hand off with no more than a second glance.

"Got it," he said after a few minutes, "Your group head is blocked- here I'll clean it out. But otherwise it should be fine. I would keep an eye on the thermal fuse though, it's looking near to the end of its life expectancy, and that could be a problem later." Anne looked practically awestruck as Danny reassembled the machine and started another batch of coffee with ease. Within minutes it was humming.

"How'd you do that?" She asked as he slipped back to his stool on the other side of the counter.

"Oh, uh, my friends Sam had an espresso machine just like that. She used to let me take it apart because it would annoy her parents and I wanted to see how it worked."

In lieu of answering Anne just nodded as she took in the information and went back to preparing the customer's order. The two fell into companionable silence as she set about cleaning behind the bar, and Danny delved into his chemistry homework.

About 20 minutes later a steaming cup of hot coco, topped with a mountian of cream and chocolate shavings, slid across the bar toward Danny. He looked up at Anne who gave him a small smile as she turned back to cleaning.

"Thanks,"

"Yeah well, you fixed this temperamental beast, I figured you deserved it," she said, jabbing a thumb toward the espresso machine.

"Thanks anyway,"

They lapsed back into silence for a few more hours. By now the hot coco had been throughly drained, the mug long since cleaned and put away. Everyone except for Danny had long gone and Anne was flipping the sign on the door.

"Alright dude, I have to kick you out at some point."

"Awwwww do you have too?" Danny groaned but began packing his things anyway.

"Yup," she said, popping the p, " its closing time and my shift is over.

"Damn, and I thought we were friends," that just made Anne roll her eyes and snort.

"I was technically supposed to close half an hour ago, you're lucky I let you stay this long," she retorted.

"Yeah yeah," Danny said, lacing sarcasm into voice. "You good to head home by yourself?" He asked a bit more genuinely.

"Mhm, I'm just around the block, you?"

"Yeah I'm good, see you tomorrow."

"Ditto, and good luck on your date," she said, ushering him out the door.

Danny watched his friend leave until she turned the corner two blocks down because you can never be too cautious in Gotham, even if the girl was born and raised here. Content that she could get home safe, he turned and began the trek back to his dorm, keeping his heightened senses on high alert. It was almost one in the morning which meant most of Gotham’s nightlife was still buzzing around the streets, however that did nothing to calm his nerves as the familiar feeling of being watched began to prickle at his skin.

Danny was still ten minutes away from his building when a strangled gasp caught in his throat. 'Oh what is it now?' He thought, turning to scan his surroundings mostly for a certain hooded crime lord. And sure enough, the man himself jumped off a nearby fire escape to land in front of the half-ghost.

"Hood," he greeted as the man attempted

to pull him toward a nearby alley. Danny didn't budge, instead he folded his arms and lifted an eyebrow. Honestly Red Hood wasn't all that scary when your blood isn't pumped full of adrenaline, beside what could the guy really do to Danny? Shoot him? Like that would do anything. It was honestly laughable how he had been so scared of the man. Besides after two weeks of being followed around by the guy, Danny was kind of over the whole 'oh Ancients he's a crime lord who can and will shatter my kneecaps' thing,

"Finally work up the courage to talk to me rather than stalk me from afar?" He asked with an amused lilt to his voice.

At that remark Hood gave up trying to move the half ghost and instead settled into his on defensive position, mirroring Danny.

"I wasn't scared of talking to you," he said, exasperation clear in his voice despite the modulator. "Besides I need to warn you about something important."

Danny only raised his eyebrow higher, sounding entirely unconcerned as he spoke, "Oh so you're not even denying the stalker allegations?" He snorted. and after choking on frozen air because of him every single day, Danny may have been a little spiteful. Suffice to say, it felt nice watching the vigilante splutter a bit before responding.

"How did you-? Fuck whatever it doesn't matter," Hood muttered, " I just wanted to let you know that Bats is looking into you." Yeah, Danny had expected this. Albeit a bit sooner, but still.

"And?" He gestured for Hood to continue

"And. He's planning on visiting your dorm tonight so I thought i'd give you a heads up." He huffed.

"Well, thanks I guess?" Danny said, shifting his weight to his heels. Hood didn't say anything else so Danny filled the silence instead. "Well ,if that's all, i'm going to, y'know, go home. These street aren't really safe at night. Might run into a mob boss or get mugged or something"

It didn't take much longer for Danny to get to his dorm. Tristan was supposed to be gone for the night so it was the perfect time, if any, for a confrontation with the bat himself. 'Alright, lets get this over with' He thought as he locked the door.

---------------

Pt.8

[verysium]

what do you read in your spare time? you’re one of the most eloquent users i know, id love to hear how you find the media you consume and what your favorites are

omg ei 😊 welcome back to the inbox! thank you for your sweet words although i'm probably not qualified enough to be considered the full definition of eloquent. i am going to preface this post by saying that i definitely don't read as much as i should, so this list is not going to be comprehensive whatsoever. the last time i even visited an in-person library was like half a decade ago, and since then my spare time has been nonexistent lmao. anyways, here are some of my favorite/most recent reads as listed by author:

POETRY

richard siken: i think siken is already well-known both in the literary world and in whatever booktok deems is popular culture. if you don't already know him though, he is best known for his poetry collection crush, which delves into themes of obsession, gay love, and violent eroticism. i actually read this chapbook unknowingly. as in i was hounding sketchy pdf download sites at 3 AM and saw a man with bloodied lips on the cover and decided to read it. he basically became my summer fever dream after that. the way he juxtaposes images is seamless, smoother than water. only richard siken can talk about violence without making it sound violent. i also enjoyed his other poetry collection war of the foxes, especially "portrait of fryderyk in shifting light." i think light is a common motif throughout most of his poems, and he manipulates it effortlessly. the most recent piece i read from him is "piano lesson." i have nothing left to say that he didn't already say, so i would just recommend reading it for yourself. he is the og big brain when it comes to word play.

ocean vuong: he's unforgettable, and i mean that literally because nobody forgets a person named ocean. time is a mother was exactly what the name suggests: an exploration of grief, loss, and the rewind of time after his mother's death. some of the poems are almost cinematic in quality. "künstlerroman" is my favorite because it feels exactly like watching a video tape in reverse. i think his most famous work is "someday i'll love ocean vuong." it was the first piece i ever read from him, and to this day, it remains my comfort poem.

silas denver melvin: i only recently discovered him through his chapbook grit. i think he's also on tumblr @/sweatermuppet. he writes a lot on the trans experience, and his work gives me a mix of southern gothic and country vibes. would definitely read his other publications if i had the time.

chen chen: one thing about chen chen is that he always comes to devour. my favorite works from him are "self-portrait as so much potential" and "song of the anti-sisyphus." you have to put on your thinking cap for some of his poems, but once you grasp the meaning, everything makes sense all at once.

franny choi: "disaster means without a star" was the entire inspiration behind my first rin fic. i relate to her more personally in regards to the diaspora experience, but her collections are worth reading in general because of the sheer quality.

pages matam: his poem "piñata" was what got me into slam poetry. his work mostly consists of political commentary which i feel is particularly relevant in today's social climate. "on learning america's english" also resonates with people who have encountered the entire losing/learning immigrant tongues experience.

laura lamb brown-lavolie: i've only read one spoken word poem from her, and tbh i only needed to read one. "on this the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the titanic, we reconsider the buoyancy of the human heart" is my two-headed calf poem. one day i will get this tattooed.

brendan constantine: once again, this was the result of me being chronically online coupled with the boredom of an august heat wave. i found "the opposites game" through TED. honestly, i was a bit unsure about it at first, but it's a cute little poem that makes you really delve into the intricacies of craft.

TEEN POETRY & PROSE

yasmeen khan: she could mouth her words onto every square inch of my body, and i would still be coming back for more. ingraining them into flesh is not enough. "movie stars" is by far my favorite work from her. she writes about femininity and womanhood so profoundly. it's tragic, but really i wouldn't have it end any other way.

kaya dierks: her writing is basically middle-of-nowhere small town stoner teenage life but personified. "crushed" is my favorite piece from her. the soundtrack for this work was definitely by ethel cain, and you cannot convince me otherwise.

FICTION

madeline miller: i was first introduced to her when i read the song of achilles. let's just say that book had me nonverbal for the greater half of three months. it was my metaphorical hatchet. i buried it once, and i never want to dig it up again. i read circe a few years later. the first time was during the blue hour at an airport, right between one red-eye flight and another transfer. i don't even remember that experience because i was heavily sleep-deprived. i read it again recently for a literature course, this time for academic analysis. overall, i enjoy the the heroine-centric narrative. typically, i'm a bit wary of novels with heavy feminist themes because they either project their agenda too strongly or they run the risk of misrepresentation. circe doesn't exactly have that problem. it was more about empowerment and less about exercising power over others.

charlotte brontë: as a historical figure, brontë was questionable, but jane eyre most certainly was not. that book rewired my brain, and that is saying something because i have never read any classic by choice. and it is so important to me that jane was the ugliest, plainest girl you could ever imagine. also cus i unironically enjoy angst, and this book was full of dramatic misunderstandings.

yoko ogawa: i love japanese literature, so there is no reason not to include this one here. "a peddler of tears" is one of my favorite short stories. i did not expect the ending at all, but it was welcome. something about violence, body gore, and dismemberment being framed as romantic and semi-erotic just gets to me. sign me the hell up. hotel iris is a hit-or-miss with some people. either you like the fact that art makes you uncomfortable or you shut it down completely. for me, i was alright with exploring some of its darker themes, but read at your own discretion.

NONFICTION

ross gay: he lives up to his name both in optimism and in carefree joy. probably one of my favorite creative nonfiction authors simply based off the accessibility of his writing style. easy to read and understand but still hits you with the full force of a semi-truck. i would recommend his book inciting joy. it's a collection of essays that delve into grief, but since this is ross gay, he makes it seem like a quintessential part of life.

paul kalanithi: sixteen-year-old me was mind blown by him cus before that doctors were shrewish old men with bald spots and sterile coats, not poetic surgeons who dissected the anatomy of word and recited t.s. eliot in the most heart-wrenching way possible. he is everything i want to become in both life and death. when breath becomes air literally does take your breath away.

[thatfreshi]

Radio Silent (Uni AU P. 10)

tw - mentions of abuse, themes of anxiety, general insecurity

The night fizzles out the way you expect it to, disappearing without a word to your friends in the diner, letting your new, yet reluctant friend, drive you home. You'd simply deal with Shadowheart when she got back to the dorm.

Just as Astarion said, he's gone the next morning, but the two of you text quite often. He finds it easier to talk to you through pixels on a screen, where he can pretend like you're not this very real person who knows far too much about him. On the plane ride to LA, he doesn't sleep, which isn't odd for him. Instead, he thinks about the past couple of days and how you've wriggled your way into his life, into his head. Instead of trying to put his feelings into tangible sentences, he makes a playlist while waiting the hours away and catches up on some much-needed reading.

Thursday comes around, and the group is pissed at him, as you expected them to be.

"Damnit, he's the reason we picked my lunch break to do this during anyways! You think he'd at least stick to plans like a reasonable individual."

"Gale, it's not like he chose to go on a spur-of-the-moment trip to California. It's a work thing, not in his control."

You almost sound a little angry when the words come out, knowing that he's probably going through some hell that all your friends don't know about. Gale picks up on this sentiment, and leaves the conversation at that, mumbling something about how they'll all just update him on the project details later. Indeed, you all talk in the group chat with him about plans for the upcoming assignment, which he sporadically responds to. Although, he always responds to your texts, even if he ignores the group chat. Astarion argues with himself about it in his head, trying to reason with himself, saying things like 'it's just because the group chat is overwhelming.' For how good of a liar he is, he's not good at lying to himself.

Friday morning, he goes radio silent, which you're not concerned by at first. He's busy, probably busier than you've ever been in your life. Yet, he had made time to text you since Monday night. It starts to worry you when Saturday and Sunday both pass with nothing new. You hold yourself back from asking if everything's alright, knowing if something is stressing him out it's probably better to just let him deal with it and get back to you. And yet, you don't talk to him until he's back, and you're not even the first one to hear that he's back on campus.

"Oh yeah, I saw him in the elevator earlier. Tried being nice like you said, I even waved! You should be proud. Doesn't seem like he appreciated it though."

Shadow rolls her eyes, almost covered by her bangs that she desperately needs to trim. You're not sure exactly why, but you rush to his dorm room, knocking frantically. It's Monday night, which is surprising. You could've sworn he said he'd be back Tuesday morning, but maybe you misremembered. The door creaks open.

"Oh, hello Tav."

Astarion's eyes are weary, which you chalk up to not being able to sleep on the plane.

"Hello? You haven't texted me since Thursday, what the hell? I thought you like died or something."

"Nope, not dead, very much alive. Got wrapped up in some work affairs over the weekend, fashion people can be quite dramatic. Either way, I apologize. I'm still quite new to the 'having a genuine friend' thing."

"Well, how's your arm?"

He scoffs.

"It's... it's fine. Weird to have someone ask."

At this point, he's opened the door and let you in. You're welcomed to a sight of half un-packed luggage and a stack of leather binded books on the coffee table.

"Holy shit Astarion, did you rob a bookstore while you were in California?"

"Nope, all from the library. Missing out on a week of school when you're a senior here comes with its disadvantages. For example, I have had no time to work on my thesis essay, and I've barely even unpacked from the trip itself. Although, I did snag this."

He takes out a garment bag that has been carefully finessed to fit in his suitcase without wrinkling whatever is hidden inside. His fingers nimbly move to unzip the bag, revealing a white faux fur coat.

"Now, do I wear too much white? Absolutely, but passing up on this? I could never."

You almost feel bad, not knowing anything about clothes or what makes them cool, but to your credit, you know it's a nice coat. He slips it on, happy with his latest thievery.

"Well, what do you think? Is it stunning, or is it stunning?"

In that moment, while you're about to make some quip like 'go look for yourself, you realize he has no mirrors in the dorm, not even in the bathroom that you've only ever caught a glance of.

"I would say look for yourself, but you don't have any mirrors. That's shocking."

"Well, I had the one in the bathroom removed. Guess I'm just not particularly a fan of reflections."

"How come?"

He stares at a detail on the sleeve of the coat.

"You get tired of seeing your face after a while."

"Well, I think it looks fabulous, and so do you."

"Wish I felt just as fabulous."

He lets out a small laugh, shrugging his way out of the blinding fabric. There's something left unsaid in the air, you can feel it as he goes to hang up his new treasure.

"What really happened this weekend?"

Astarion tenses, almost dropping the hanger he so delicately placed the jacket on.

"I... I'd rather not say. I know I told you a lot the other night, but there are truly some things best left as skeletons in the closet. Maybe in time, but not today. I can't today."

"That's okay. I was just worried, that's all."

"Funny, I'm so used to people prying all the time. It's pleasant, getting to have secrets when I talk to you."

He comes back out into the living room.

"Would you like to stay for a while? You don't have to help unpack or anything, just be here."

"Sure, as long as you don't mind. And I would gladly help you unpack. Besides, you have a master thesis to get back to."

"I suppose I do. Thanks, I won't forget this."

"What, like you need to trade some favor back or something? Because that's not necessary."

"You're too nice for your own good."

The pale man puts some soft R&B on, and the two of you go ahead and start putting all his things away. Although, he doesn't let you handle any of his nice clothes. You learn that the hard way when he bats your hand away from a pair of very expensive jeans.

"They're just jeans, I promise I won't taint them!"

"Yes, they are just jeans, but they're also 800-dollar jeans, and I am not risking it."

You continue to ask him about various articles of clothing, what shoots he took them from. He remembers every single one. Although, he does skip out on some details, brushing past parts of his tales without a second thought. You don't mind though, knowing it's probably just things he isn't ready to talk about. At some point you become distracted by the stack of books on the nearby table, and start looking at all the titles. They're all related to ethics, morality, or philosophy in some way, but particularly focused on the psychology of abusers and the abused.

"I thought you weren't a philosophy person?"

Astarion's voice almost makes you jump, taking you out of reading the back of one of the books.

"Is this what you're doing your thesis on?"

"I mean I'd like to, but I'm still not sure. Feel as though the head of the department will be surprised when I present it to him."

"How come?"

"Because I've always made my projects, lifeless, I guess. I've always written and studied by the book, never touched on emotional topics. Just don't want people asking questions."

"So, what specifically are you going to look into?"

"The philosophy of abusers, how power imbalances change our moral codes, that kind of thing."

You lightly place the book back in the stack.

"I think you should do it. If anyone asks, just say you were curious about it."

"That's true, I am known to be quite curious. Now, are you going to help me with the rest of this, or have you given up?"

The night passes by too fast for his liking, as the two of you talk while he prepares for the week ahead. It's past midnight when you finally check your phone, seeing that you've received a couple of cheeky messages about your absence from Shadow.

"Is it late already?"

Astarion checks him phone as well.

"Perhaps it's time for you to go get some sleep darling. After all, not everyone is as extreme of an insomniac as I am."

"Yeah, I guess I should probably get back. Happy you're back though, and that you're okay."

Without really thinking about it, you go for a side hug, and make your way to the door.

"See you tomorrow?"

"Sure. See you tomorrow Tav."

And his smile is warmer than normal, knowing there's something to look forward to after a torturous night of barely any sleep. Maybe opening up to a single soul isn't so bad after all.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮(they’ve gained perspective! They’re gonna talk it through and come out of this stronger! Love that for them!)

🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟(A lion attack?!??!? Poor chris my sweet baby i just want that child safe!)

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼(very fascinating setup im intrigued!)

36 for 🔮 (HELL YEAH THEY ARE):

---

“I’m sorry I didn’t just explain that earlier,” Bobby says. “I’m sorry I let you think… Well, I don’t exactly know what you thought but obviously it hurt you.”

Buck shakes his head. “I forgive you.”

So easily. His anger burns so bright when he is angry. His forgiveness comes so readily. Bobby’s not sure if he’s worthy of it. 

“Thank you, Buck.” 

“You should tell me, though,” Buck says. “If it happens again.”

Bobby sighs. “Buck…”

“Look, I get it,” Buck interrupts. “I saw you, back then. I know you struggle to talk about some of it. I’m not asking for that. I’m just saying, you can tell me, so I can be there for you.”

“That’s not your job,” Bobby tells him. 

“Well you can’t have it both ways,” Buck protests. “I want it to be my job, Bobby. I’m not actually a kid.” 

Damn it. That’s… Well, that’s completely solid logic that Bobby can’t refute without being unfair. Oh, he hates that. 

He thinks back to the day of the funeral. What Buck must have seen of him. A child who hated himself, who was grieving, who had just discovered that alcohol made that go away. Who was so angry and scared and alone. Here Buck is still. Just like Athena has seen the worst of him, and remained. Strangely enough, Bobby thinks back to that afternoon, catatonic in his childhood bedroom, and although he knows he was alone, he has the memory of a warm hand on his shoulder. He’s never remembered that before. 

---

75 for 🧟 (Yesssss scary times!):

---

Buck knows that he’s hiding. 

Who wouldn’t? He feels like a little kid put on time out. Not that there’s been any actual punishment for him, aside from the radio being taken away. Hen has made it clear no one is going to hold it against him. I understand why you did it, she’d said. But still. He’s embarrassed. He feels foolish. Everyone thinks it was a desperate, futile attempt at something he will never accomplish. Everyone thinks Maddie is just another person he’s lost for good. 

So Buck is hiding in his room. 

He’s reading. He has so much to read, after all. He’s been going through the nonfiction books topic by topic. Right now he’s on music. Just anything the library has. He’s reading a biography of Fela Kuti, which is kind of blowing his mind. He knew nothing at all about him before picking up the book. He had to see if the library had any CDs of his music, which it does! He’s playing it on an old boom box. 

Saxophone filling his ears, knowledge transferring from page to Buck’s brain like a scanner, Buck can feel himself starting to calm down. He’s discovered learning is a bit meditative for him. He never did well in school. Never thought he was smart. Now he thinks he might just learn differently. Karen says so, anyway. She says he’s “probably brilliant, actually.” First person to say that, no doubt. It’s a shame, Buck thinks. He had to discover this thirst for knowledge at the end of the world. He’s not sure there will ever be new books. He’s not sure the internet will ever come back. He mourns a version of himself that might have thrived, with the right support. 

Laying on his mattress, music loud, book hovering above his face, Buck almost doesn’t hear the knock on his door. He’s pretty absorbed. The knock comes once, twice, and finally a third time before Buck catches it. 

“Uh, come in!” Buck calls. 

The door opens and Bobby steps in. 

Fuck. 

Buck sits up. He puts the book down, open, spine up. 

“Oh. Hi, Bobby.”

Bobby looks distraught. Buck worries he’s still pissed. He worries that he’s thought more about it, and has come to chew Buck out some more. 

He doesn’t.

“Buck, I… I don’t know how to explain…”

“What?” Buck asks. His spine goes rigid. “What’s happened? Is everyone okay?”

He thought Athena’s daughter was improving! 

“Everyone’s fine. Relatively.” Bobby says. “Buck, I’m sorry… I…”

“Bobby, what?” Buck begs. 

“There are people here for you.” Bobby says. “Looking for you.”

Buck goes numb. “Wh-what?”

“One of them says she’s your sister.”

“M-Maddie?” Buck asks, not really believing it. Didn’t everyone imply it was never going to happen?

---

24 for 🔼 (Thank you!):

---

 “But you don’t live in our house.”

Shannon winces a little. “No, Chris. I don’t.”

“So where will the baby live?”

“We still have a while to figure that out.” Eddie tries to move away from this topic. 

“Are you going to live in our house?” Chris asks. 

“I don’t think so, Christopher,” Shannon says quietly. 

Christopher’s face starts to go a little red. 

“Chris,” Eddie says. “I know you have a lot of questions-”

“No, I don’t want it.” Chris interrupts.

“What?” Shannon asks. 

“I don’t want the baby.” Chris says. “I don’t want a brother or sister.”

Eddie sighs. Fuck. He’d been too young to feel this way about Sophia, but he certainly had his reservations about Adriana. He was just a little younger than Chris when his mom told him about her third pregnancy.

[echoghost1]

Phantsy Phest 2023 - Day 03 Wings & Scales

Title: The Light Draws You In

Summary: Danny only meant to take a quick look at his parent's latest project.

He probably shouldn't have gone down there alone.

Word Count: 2,117

feel free to read on ao3 or down below the cut

The weight on his back felt like he was carrying his backpack with every single one of his textbooks.

He knew he wasn’t.

And even if he was, his backpack wasn’t even all that heavy. Not since he’d gotten stronger from his powers.

So maybe that was a bad comparison.

It wasn’t a backpack full of books; it was more like two backpacks full. Maybe three?

Or maybe they weren’t full of books.

Maybe they were full of bricks.

Or lead.

He should really stop focusing on this analogy.

There were many more important things to worry about.

Like the fact that he was stuck.

He was stuck and it was all his fault.

He shouldn’t have been messing with things.

He knew his parents were working on something new, and yet here he was.

He went poking around while they were out and got stuck. Like an idiot.

It was just so hard to look away.

He didn’t even realize he had been getting closer to it. Or that it moved?

He actually wasn’t sure which.

He had been distracted.

And now he was stuck.

He wasn’t sure if it was better or worse that he got stuck in his human form.

It was better because they would let him out as soon as they saw him.

But also worse because he was 100 percent sure this wasn’t supposed to work on humans.

At least he had a history of making their inventions go off. So it wouldn’t be too weird.

He sighed and tried to reposition. Or even stretch a little.

It didn’t work.

He could barely move.

Why did they make this thing so tight anyway?

And why did it only cover his body and not his head?

He felt something shift and the next thing he knew was total darkness.

He was still awake.

He sighed in annoyance. 

Of course, it waited until he noticed to cover his head.

Stupid trap.

Although, now that he was completely covered, was anyone going to notice he was in there?

How long had he been down here anyway?

How long before anyone came home?

How long before they checked the basement?

How long could he be sealed inside before he ran out of air?

Okay, that was not something he wanted to think about. At all.

Time to think of something else.

Anything else.

Jazz would get home first.

She was just at the library.

She’d get home and check on him.

She wouldn’t find him in his room and she’d look around. Maybe call for him. Maybe call his phone.

If he didn’t answer she might come down here.

Then she’d see him, or the lump of a trap with him in it. And maybe he’d be able to hear her?

Maybe if he heard someone come down the stairs he’d call out to them.

Yeah, he just had to listen for footsteps. Maybe even the door.

Yeah, he’d listen and then call out.

He could do that.

He could wait.

It was so quiet.

How long had it been?

It was hard to tell.

It was getting hard to breathe.

It was also warm.

Really warm.

This just kept getting worse.

Everything felt tingly.

Was his body falling asleep?

His eyelids were starting to feel heavy.

Was there any need to keep them open? It was too dark to see anything anyway.

It wouldn't matter if they were open or closed.

He'd just rest his eyes for a minute. 

Just a little bit. 

He'd be able to hear when someone came down.

Even if he took a nap.

If he slept he wouldn't have to wait as long.

Sleep sounded better and better. 

It was so warm and dark.

================================================

The sound of something tapping woke him up.

He grumbled in annoyance. He wasn’t ready to wake up yet.

Then he heard a voice.

It was muffled and too distorted to make out.

It was like trying to hear someone who was far away while also being underwater.

He couldn’t make it out or tell who it was.

Or maybe it was more than one person?

He opened his eyes and found only darkness.

Although it wasn’t too dark.

There was an edge to it, a place that was lighter. 

He tried to reach for it.

He could just barely get his arm out from under himself. 

He reached for the lighter spot and found something hard.

It didn’t feel very thick though. If he pushed hard enough, he might be able to push through.

So he did.

He pushed and he pushed. He pulled his other arm up and pushed harder.

It started to bend under the pressure.

And then it cracked.

Light came pouring in. 

So bright it hurt.

He recoiled back and almost wished he hadn’t broken it open.

“Oh right, It’s going to be too bright for you. I’ll turn off the lights. ”

He knew that voice.

Then it hit him all at once.

He hadn’t just been taking a nice little nap in the dark.

He had been trapped.

He had been waiting for someone to rescue him.

How had he forgotten that?

How had he been able to just push the trap apart?

It had been too tight to move before.

“Sweetie?”

He slowly opened his eyes and saw his mom. She looked so worried.

“Do you need help getting free?”

He shook his head and started to pull himself forward out of the trap. 

He was glad it wasn’t completely dark. There were still the auxiliary lights that lined the bottom of the walls.

He wasn’t sure he would have liked it very much if it was totally dark in the lab too.

He didn’t get far when he got stuck again.

“Oh, hold on,” his mom said as she reached over him.

She grabbed something on his back and pulled.

“Ow!”

He couldn’t see what she was doing but whatever it was hurt.

“That hurt?”

“Yeah?”

Did she not expect it too?

“Can you feel this?” She asked before touching him again.

“Yeah.” 

“What about this?” she touched a different spot a little higher up, close to his neck.

“Yes.”

“This?”

He didn’t feel anything this time.

“No.”

She let out a sigh of relief. “Okay good.”

“Should I try to crawl out again?” he asked as he tried not to think about how vague she was being.

And how he couldn’t quite identify the places she had just touched him despite how it was his body.

“Hold on, okay now.”

He dragged himself forward once he felt the pressure on his back lessen.

She must have been able to pry apart the trap a little more. 

With his mom holding the trap steady it was much easier to get out. 

And then he was free.

He took a huge breath and just enjoyed the cool flooring underneath him.

Being stuck for so long had left him overheated and a little sweaty.

He stretched out as far as he could, glad to finally be able to have the ability to do so.

He was not expecting his mom to gasp.

She knelt down in front of him and hesitated as she reached out to him. Her hand held out awkwardly in the air between them.

“I’m so sorry. I promise your father and I will do everything we can to fix this.”

He cocked his head to the side, “fix what?”

“Don’t you feel it?”

“Feel what?”

“Baby, I’m sorry.”

“Mom, you’re starting to scare me.”

She looked like she was about to cry.

Why was she going to cry?

What was wrong with him?

He wasn’t hurt. He wasn’t trapped anymore.

What could possibly be wrong?

“Hold on. I’ll go get a mirror,” she stood up and looked around. “or something.”

It didn’t take long for her to spot something and bring it back. She held a small metal tray, just shiny enough to see yourself in.

She held it for him.

He looked at his face.

He looked the same.

Then she slowly lifted it up, while also tilting it down towards him. The first thing he noticed, was a pair of strange tuffs on his head. It looked like two odd strands of hair but also not like hair at all.

Much too long and going upward. Much higher than hair at that length would go.

He didn’t get a chance to comment on it because she kept moving the tray.

It looked like there was a blanket on his back. Or a cape.

There was a fluffy collar and it draped over his back and shoulders going all the way past his feet.

It was spread open and took up a lot of the floor space behind him.

He wasn’t wearing a cape or a blanket when he got trapped.

There definitely wasn’t one in the trap.

His mom didn’t put this on him.

The edge of the cape fluttered.

He felt it move.

It wasn’t because it was on him.

It was him.

It wasn’t a cape.

He wanted to get up.

To run out of the basement and never look back.

He wanted to go outside and feel the wind on his-

Oh.

That’s what that was.

Not a cape at all.

Not one thing.

But two.

A pair.

A set.

“Wings?”

His mom lowered the tray and held it to her chest.

He understood why she was so worried.

Why she wanted to cry.

He was a freak.

Even more of a freak than he was before.

People don’t have wings.

They aren’t supposed to.

“What am I?”

The harsh clanking of the tray against the floor startled him so much that the tips of his wings lifted off the ground. His fur collar bristled too.

It felt so weird.

“You are still my little boy.” His mom reassured him. “I still love you so much.” she held his face in her hands as she spoke, her thumb gently stroking his cheek.

“But I’m not human anymore.”

Not that he could say he had fully been one before this.

“Don’t worry baby, we’ll fix this,” she promised with a kiss on his forehead.

He really hoped she could.

“Why don’t we go upstairs? I think the couch is more comfortable than the lab floor.”

While he did agree with her, he didn’t think getting up right now was a good idea.

Or possible.

“I can’t.”

“You can’t?”

“Wings are too heavy. I need to let them air out.”

He had no idea how he knew this but he did.

He wouldn’t be able to move them and it would be a bad idea to try.

“Air out?”

“Yeah.” he sighed, “they’re wet.”

He did not want to think about why they were wet.

Or how.

He could just pretend it was sweat.

Or even some weird slime from inside the trap.

He could just pretend that it was slime.

Even if the trap wasn’t slimy at all when he first realized he was trapped.

It could have just spontaneously made slime after he was fully encased.

He blinked.

Encased.

He had wings.

What else got encased and then came out with wings?

“A cacoon.”

He could feel his mom just staring at him.

“It was like a cacoon and I came out with wings.”

“Are you saying you’re a butterfly?”

“No. I think I’m the other one.”

It would be better if he was a butterfly.

People liked butterflies.

Then his mom realized where he was going with this.

“That device uses light to draw in the ghosts.”

“And also me apparently.” he pressed his forehead into the floor. “The stupid little moth boy.”

“You aren’t stupid.”

“I got tricked by a lightbulb!”

“It wasn’t just a lightbulb,” his mom started.

She stopped when she saw his face.

“Although I do see you’re point.”

There wasn’t much else to say and Danny wasn’t sure he felt much like talking anymore anyway.

Was there really any way to undo this?

Was he going to have to be like this forever?

Was he going to be stuck in the house or was he going to have to live in the woods?

Mothman real. More at eleven.

He didn’t want to be Mothman.

This sucked.

This whole thing sucked so much.

There was absolutely nothing good that was going to come out of this.

Then he remembered his wings.

They were very big.

They might be big enough to support his weight.

Sure he could fly with his ghost powers but this would be different.

Ghost flight was more like floating with direction, sometimes speed.

But with wings.

Maybe it wasn’t all bad.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Don’t Go Blindly Into The Dark

Summary:

To hide that he can't read, Jan Van Eck has been forcing his son to pretend he's blind since he was eight years old. Wylan is now attending Ketterdam University, and meeting Jesper Fahey may very well be about to change his life. But is he safe to tell Jesper the truth? And what will Jesper say if he does?

Jesper is struggling to weigh up his life in the Barrel and his life at the University of Ketterdam, and there's a good chance that his growing debt is about to make the decision for him. He hasn't attended class consecutively for months, but maybe that will change when his newest project includes partnering up with Wylan Van Eck. But can he really leave the Barrel behind him? And how long can he keep up the pretence of who he thinks Wylan wants him to be?

Meanwhile there is a darkness growing in Ketterdam, and it seems a killer may be stalking the streets of West Stave. An unknown evil is closing its jaws over the city, and it’s starting to feel like nowhere is safe.

Tags: @justalunaticfangirl @lunarthecorvus @i-need-help-this-is-my-obsession @devoted-people-hater

If anyone else would like to be tagged let me know :)

Content warnings for this chapter: death references, grief, loss of parents, loss of friends, implied abuse references, implied child abuse references

AO3 link

Chapter 61 - Jesper

“I’m starting to think we aren’t destined to get coffee,” Jesper smiled, trying to keep his voice light, as he led Wylan up the stairs. 

The staircase was narrow enough that Jesper had to stand on the edge of the step above Wylan for them to be able to keep their hands intertwined, and he tried to keep half an eye on Wylan’s footing as they climbed. He remembered that Wylan had taken the steps outside the library slowly even with his cane, his free hand tight on the railing, and without it the motion would be harder - especially since the stairs at the Slat probably wouldn’t be considered very even. 

Wylan had one hand around Jesper’s, the other of the wooden rail, and although he knew that, understandably, stairs weren’t easy for Wylan, Jesper still thought they might be moving noticeably slower than usual. He lingered on his step for a moment as Wylan moved to follow, feeling the warmth of the boy’s hand in his, unsure of what to say or what to do. They walked the rest of the way to Jesper’s room in silence, and Jesper quickly shoved some of his stuff out of the way so Wylan could sit down on the bed. 

“Do you want a drink, or anything?”

Wylan shook his head, but Jesper poured him a glass of water anyway and told him where it was on the side in case he wanted it. He sat down a little tentatively next to Wylan, but was saved from trying to figure out what he should say next by the sound of a broken sob escaping from between Wylan’s lips. 

“I’m sorry,” Wylan whispered, as Jesper looped his arm around the boy’s shoulders and pulled him close. 

Jesper hushed him gently, letting his hand find loose purchase against Wylan’s as he buried his head into Jesper’s shoulder. Jesper rocked slowly, ever so slightly, from side to side as they sat, and after a minute Wylan lifted his legs up onto the bed to tuck his feet beneath him. He still took the time to haphazardly kick his shoes off, which Jesper couldn’t help but smile at. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, softly, as Wylan shuffled and lifted his head. 

For a moment there was quiet and Jesper thought Wylan might not be ready to answer, but then he ventured into the still air: 

“I just… I really thought for a minute that she might be okay. I thought… maybe I could finally help her,”

There was something, maybe, more to that that Wylan wasn’t saying, but Jesper didn’t push. 

“I never helped her,” he whispered, “I did nothing and now- and now-”

Wylan’s breathing began to speed up, audible and erratic. Jesper grabbed his hand, his palm pressed against its back as he laced his fingers between Wylan’s. 

“Breathe with me,” he murmured, “Count three in, out for four,”

“Jes-”

“In for three, out for four,”

Wylan obliged, perhaps slightly begrudgingly, as Jesper counted out loud. They did the same twice more, then breathed in for four and out for five. By the time they’d reached six counts in, Jesper could feel Wylan’s pulse relaxing where he’d gently pressed his thumb into his wrist. He squeezed his hand. 

“I promise you,” he said, “this is not your fault,”

“I should’ve… I could’ve-could’ve…”

“Could have done what?” Jesper asked, half surprising himself with the feeling of intensity that had begun to burn in the back of his throat. He adjusted to take both of Wylan’s hands, twisting so they were face to face kneeling on the bed, “Wy, I don’t know what happened in that house and I don’t expect you tell me any of it, but I know you were not in any kind of position to-”

“Don’t,” said Wylan, tears sliding down his cheeks now. His hands tensed beneath Jesper’s, but he didn’t pull away, “Please,”

“Wylan-”

“You can’t justify this,” he shook his head, “Nothing can fix… She was five houses away. We were on the same street,”

Jesper wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, not knowing the full story of what happened to Anya, but he would ask Nina for the details if he needed them. He wouldn’t make Wylan say anything. 

“I never even looked for her,”

“Alright,” Jesper pulled his feet round to sit cross-legged, vaguely regarding his boots on the bedspread and thinking he probably should’ve kicked them off like Wylan did, “How would you have looked for her?”

“I could have-” Wylan hesitated, briefly, “I could have asked around, or spoken to Joras-”

“Joras, being…?”

“A Squaller at my father’s house,”

“You think there’s a chance Joras knew where she was?”

Wylan looked down, then very lightly shook his head. 

“Who else could you have asked?”

Silence, for a moment. 

“I could have asked someone when I first moved to the Barrel. Nina, someone else. If I’d tried sooner-”

“Alright,” said Jesper, again, “Let’s say you found out where she was, another house on the Geldstraat, yeah?”

Wylan nodded. 

“What could you have done? Once you knew?”

“I… I don’t know, but I could have done something, I-”

“Maybe,” Jesper shrugged, “But that’s a lot of maybes, Wylan. There isn’t any way of getting rid of that feeling, okay? That guilt? It isn’t an easy thing to live with,”

Curiosity might have briefly passed through Wylan’s features, but if Jesper hadn’t imagined it then the boy had noticed and controlled it well. He released Wylan’s hands, moving to drop his legs back over the side of the bed, then tucked one arm gently round him. 

“But you do have to find a way, in time. It’s going to fucking suck,” Jesper smiled as Wylan laughed very, very softly, “And some days are worse than others, I know. But this was not your fault, Wylan. Grief is something you carry with you forever; sometimes it’s the heaviest thing you’ve ever held and other days you can just slip it in your pocket, but it’s always there - and that’s good, that’s normal. That’s love. Guilt isn’t like that; guilt is like trying to handle a deadly snake with no experience. You might get lucky for a while, but if you aren’t sensible - and you don’t figure out what you’re doing - it might swallow you whole,”

Wylan shuddered, another tear tracing down his face as he turned to rest the side of his head against Jesper’s shoulder. 

“How?” 

“Oh, I wish I could tell you,” Jesper smiled, “I’m afraid that’s something everyone has to figure out for themself. It makes it easier, though, if you have people to help you. Someone who cares about you, and who you can talk to freely. No-one can really teach you how to carry it though, or how to charm the snake. Not in my experience, anyway,”

They sank into the silence for a time. Jesper focused on the feeling of Wylan’s hand in his, the weight of his head pressed against his shoulder. He moved his free hand in slow, silent patterns against the bedsheet, studying the wall ahead. 

“What was your mother like?”

Wylan’s voice was so quiet that Jesper wasn’t immediately convinced he’d spoken. He glanced down at the top of Wylan’s head. 

“You don’t have to answer,” Wylan filled the pause, “Sorry, I shouldn't have-”

“She was the best,” Jesper smiled, “She taught me to shoot,”

She taught him lots of other things, too. Jesper’s mother had been Grisha, like him, and the only person who’d truly understood his restless energy. He remembered her making bread rise just by looking at, then making him promise not to tell his Da.

“This is our little secret,” she’d say, “Okay?”

Jesper only remembered asking her why once, when he was very small, and all she’d said was that she didn’t want to make Colm worry. 

“I don’t really remember mine,” Wylan whispered, “Not properly. I miss her, though. Sometimes… Sometimes I think I shouldn’t. It’s not my pain, if I don’t even remember her,”

Jesper shook his head. 

“That’s not how it works,” he promised, “Of course you miss her,”

Jesper could admit, to himself though not, of course, out loud in front of Wylan, that he wondered about Wylan’s mother sometimes. He wondered what she’d been like, and whether… well, it felt awful to think it, but whether she had loved her son. In all the ways her husband clearly hadn’t. He wondered if she’d been safe, all those years ago. He wondered how she’d died. 

Wylan lifted his head, as though he were looking at the wall opposite them, and clutched Jesper’s hand like he was afraid he would melt away. 

“Why are you so nice to me?”

“Would you prefer it if I made fun of you once in a while? We could start with your dress sense,”

“I dress well,”

“You don’t dress too badly - for a blind person,”

Wylan laughed, which relieved Jesper slightly. 

“Oh, don’t worry,” he smiled, “Nina already told me how bad your dress sense is,”

Jesper gave a fake, melodramatic gasp as he announced:

“I dress impeccably,”

“Well, I suppose I’ll have to take your word on that,”

A short quiet settled over them once again. Wylan began to cry again, after a minute or so; silent tears falling over his cheeks and dripping into his lap whilst he refused to wipe them away. 

“Remind me when it gets easier?” he whispered, a half-hearted attempt at teasing creeping into his voice. 

Jesper squeezed his hand. 

“A little while yet, I’m afraid,”

Wylan turned his face towards Jesper’s, his chin tilted up, his eyes still reddened and his cheeks still damp. He leaned forwards, and then upwards, and then before Jesper even had time to think Wylan’s lips were brushing against his. 

Jesper had wanted to kiss Wylan since… well, he couldn’t remember knowing Wylan and not wanting to kiss him. He’d felt some curiosity towards the boy since the day he’d walked into that business class, and spent more time in the few lectures he’d attended staring at the boy from across the room than he had paying much attention to the session. The desire to flirt the merchling into a corner, just to see what might happen, had crossed his mind more than once when he passed him in hallways or happened to hear him talking about some rich-sounding nonsense or other. But knowing Wylan, in the library, in front of the sunset, on the side of the canal and giving him a bunch of flowers outside the Slat – that was very different. That brought a change in it, for Jesper. He wanted to make Wylan laugh, he wanted to feel that little hitch in his chest when their fingers intertwined, he wanted to lounge in a chair and listen to Wylan talk to him about mathematics he couldn’t understand just so he got to see that shimmer in his eyes, the smile that had a different edge to it than other smiles. He wanted to lie on top of his bed and stare at the ceiling holding Wylan’s hand, talking about nothing and everything. He wanted to listen to him play the flute, he wanted to tell him stories. And, Saints, he knew that he wanted to kiss him.

But not like this. 

Jesper pulled away. 

“Wylan…” 

Wylan’s cheeks turned crimson as his face flooded with horror, panic spiralling in his eyes as he shook his head, leaning backward. 

“I’m sorry-” he managed, “I shouldn’t- I’m sorry, I-”

He stood up. 

“I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry, I’ll go, I-”

Wylan took a pace away but Jesper grabbed his wrist, immediately regretting it when Wylan flinched but all the same not letting go; he needed to hold him there. He needed him. 

“Wylan,” Jesper gave his arm a gentle tug and Wylan relented, moving back to sit down on the side of the mattress. He didn’t look at Jesper, “It shouldn’t be like this,”

There was a pause. Jesper let his hand slip away from Wylan’s fist and down towards his palm, his thumb resting against Wylan’s knuckles, his fingers still just high enough to feel Wylan’s pulse beneath them. 

“I’m not stopping you because I don’t… because we don’t both want the same things,” he breathed, his voice barely feeling like it existed in the cold air between them, “I’m stopping you because you don’t want to do this,”

A beat passed before Wylan tilted his head towards Jesper’s, just slightly, his eyes roving upwards even though they couldn’t see him. Jesper couldn’t really explain why he lifted his free hand towards Wylan’s face and slowly ran his thumb over the lowest ridge of scar tissue that crossed through those beautiful, piercing blue eyes, he only knew that he did it and it felt like he never should have done anything else. 

“You’re grieving,” he murmured, “And you want to be distracted,”

“I-”

“I don’t want to kiss you just because you’re hurting, and you don’t really either. Not right now. It would be unfair to let you,”

Wylan closed his eyes for a moment, and another tear leaked through his lashes and onto Jesper’s thumb. He nodded.

“Besides,” Jesper’s voice lilted, ever so slightly, “I have selfish reasons too,”

Wylan’s eyelids fluttered as he tilted his face back upwards, and Jesper felt the rush of their eyes meeting even though Wylan could see his. 

“I want to be something to you, Wylan Hendriks. But I don’t ever want to be something you regret,”

[blackbat05]

Imperfect

College! Adam Warlock x Reader

Plot: You have a much needed heart-to-heart conversation with Adam on the woes of life.

Genre: PG-13

A/N: Totally did not write this at the service desk (lmao). Yet again, based on experience. Thought about who might be the best current character that I have written to write this and a college Adam came to mind? Anyways, hope you enjoy!

“Hey!” Adam waves at me from afar. He certainly looks the part of a college student. I close the latest book that I’m currently engrossed with, smiling at his enthusiasm despite going through back-to-back three hour classes.

“Classes went well?”

“Oh yes,” he responds excitedly and proceeds to share about his classes on Introduction to History and Ancient Civilization. “Humans are most interesting. Imagine getting by with the lack of technology back then!”

“You are probably the only one whose so excited about classes.” I tease. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself on Earth.”

We lounge under the big tree that provided us with a cool breeze. Other students seemed to have the same idea as you as they lazily chomped on food while enjoying the serenity of the lake on a weekday afternoon. You retrieved two boxes of pepperoni pizza from your bag and pass one to Adam who does not hesitate to sink into the pepperoni with relish. “Mmmh…” Adam swallows a bite of the pizza, earning a giggle from me. “This is delicious.”

“You mean you’ve never had it before?”

Adam shakes his head. “Nope. Mother wanted me to be perfect. I was strictly monitored over everything the moment I was born.” He says it with such nonchalance that I almost miss a hint of bitterness in his tone. “But that’s okay,” Adam sees my expression. “I met Quill, Rocket and everyone else. They showed me what I was missing and I’ve caught up. Mostly.” He adds proudly.

I nod, mulling over his words. “How did you feel though? The need to be perfect and meet everyone’s expectations.”

Adam frowns, giving a thoughtful sigh. “I’ve never really thought about it actually. I thought it was… normal. Working and striving to be the best. But I felt that it wasn’t what I wanted.” He tears another chunk of pizza. “I wanted to do what I truly wanted, to be happy. I remember when I was younger, I tagged along with Mother to visit one of the Alien colonies. I ran off to explore the city on my own even though Mother told me not to. But I knew I could and I wanted too. Although I was punished rather harshly, I felt a sense of joy and elation. Do humans feel this way too?”

“They do. I do.” I bring my knees to my chest, watching a pair of students jog past us. Adam looks at me inquisitively. “I never really elaborated to you why I’m working at the student library, right?”

Adam nods, waiting for me patiently.

“I was working at a Community Resource Centre. I was so excited because it was basically what I was working towards for almost a decade. To your people, it may feel like a second but to me, it was everything. I started work and needless to say, I was in for a very rude shock.” I laugh at the memories that was enough to create my own horror film. “It got so bad that I had to take a step back and reevaluate everything that I’ve done. It came to a point where I even questioned myself that I was doing things simply because I felt the need to conform and to live up to the expectations.”

I notice that Adam hasn’t said a single word as I share my story. “I’m sorry, I know I must be such a downer. I try not to repeat myself even with my family or friends. They’ve a lot on their plates and this is simply just a minor setback in my life.”

“Don’t say that.” Adam admonishes. “You’ve experienced something bad and you shouldn’t make it any less. I’m sorry that you went through this and you should have gotten better.”

It wasn’t sympathy but Adam’s words felt like a much needed warm embrace. “Thanks. It’s hard to share my experiences when people would just tell you to ‘suck it up’ or ‘that’s life’. I don’t want to make this sound like a pity party but sharing does make me accept that this happened to me.”

“I agree. It was how I got by with the loss of Mother and the rest of my community. Everything I knew, blown into bits. I was the last one remaining and that pressure to carry the name of my people got even stronger, until Rocket told me to let it all go because at the end of the day, we’re just living for ourselves.”

“Living for ourselves…” I let it roll off my tongue. “I like it.”

As we finish the rest of our lunch, the azure skies gave the campus a homely feeling.

“Thanks. For the conversation. I needed that.” I say as we walked back to the campus.

“Happy to be a good listening ear.” Adam grins. “To being imperfect!”

I laugh at his sudden exclamation that results in stares from a couple of students and faculty alike.

“To being imperfect.”

[ironwitchau]

So, hello. I'm alive. Before I get started, this is a minor project I've been working on because the brain rot has been... intense. I'll probably also post this to ao3 at some point with some more edits, so if you see it here first and then on ao3 it might be worth a re-read. Idk. Anyway, here's a one shot of an AU that immediately took over my brain and refused to let go. If you see any typos, no you didn't.

The Beast in the Woods:

It was the closest thing to a normal morning as one could get on the TARDIS. Mostly because things like ‘normal’ and ‘morning’ weren't relevant on the TARDIS. But things were calm in the alien ship, and Rose Tyler had just finished a human’s average sleep cycle and stepped into the control room where the Doctor fiddled with the panel, readying the TARDIS to leave the vortex.

They went about their usual banter for the day, if not a little more strained than in days past. The Doctor couldn't really blame the human though. She had been more… restrained after their visit to 1987 London. But anyone would be if they had just watched a member of their family die, even though they tried so hard to save them. So he tried not to think too much about Rose being quieter than he was used to. There was a moment of silence between them as the Doctor debated on where to take them. He was pondering taking her to the universe’s largest library when Rose gave a suggestion.

“We should go on vacation.” She said, leaning against the railing.

“Vacation?” He repeated. Because, was she not already on vacation? A break from her mundane little life in the estates?

“Yeah,” she smiled that one smile, the one where her tongue stuck out just a little, “take a break from all the danger.”

The Doctor hummed. He quite liked the danger. Danger made life interesting, danger meant he could help others. Danger meant he could fix his broken promise. But humans were different, he had reminded himself. No matter what, humans couldn't run forever the same way he could, couldn't keep going head first into the life threatening situations with the same ease he did.

“There’s this great spa planet in the 31st century.” He told her, already moving around the console. “I’ll set course for a few years before it gets popular, avoid the crowd-”

“No. I don't want any aliens.” He tried not to take offense at that. “No distant futures either.”

“What do you want, then?” The Doctor huffed.

Rose moved closer to him. “Someplace where nothing happens. No alien threats, no experiencing a historical moment. Just a place to relax.”

“Sounds boring.”

“Exactly.”

Fine, if Rose wanted boring, he’ll give her boring. Although, as he thought over the given criteria, she never said anything about the place having history. A grin found its way onto his face as the Doctor danced around the control panel.

---

Luz Noceda decided that she hated Gravesfield, Connecticut. For one, it was a small town and incredibly boring. Even worse, it was a small town where everyone knew everyone and everything. People stared at the Nocedas, whenever the family went anywhere, like they were about to commit a crime or something.

Then, there was how Grandpa couldn't move with them. Back home, Grandpa would come over for family dinners every Friday night, where he would put Luz to bed and tell her stories about when he was young. Now, he lived 3 hours away and, even though her parents promised they would still visit, Luz hadn't seen Grandpa at all in the month since they moved there.

Although, Gravesfield’s biggest offense against her was it took her Papi from her. Sure, he was busy back home as an ambulance driver, but he still had time for her and Mami. He would spend his weekends with them, doing whatever they wanted. Now, days he weren't working were spent at the big fancy hospital that was nearby. Luz really did try not to be bitter about it, the hospital was supposed to help Papi get better, but she missed how her family was before they moved.

Luz was contemplating calling Grandpa as she walked down the empty streets. It was still summer, maybe she could convince him to come pick her up and take her home. Mami would probably be mad but Grandpa said it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Besides, Mami and Papi had talked about having her live with Grandpa before the move. They didn't know Luz was listening in on them at the time and they ultimately decided not to, but maybe it was still an option.

She took out her phone, a flip phone because Mami and Papi said she wasn't ready for a phone phone, and had gotten to her contacts when she heard it. The sound was hard to describe, a mix between a ‘whoosh’ing sound and a ‘vroom’ was the best she could think of. The curiosity she felt was overwhelming, so she really couldn't be blamed.

She ran up the street, just barely putting her phone away safely, to find the sound’s source. It had ended when she rounded the corner and all she found was a blue box, a few feet away. Luz was about to keep moving, when two people stepped out of the box.

The first person was a man with dark brown hair and blue eyes. He had large ears that seemed to stand out more thanks to his buzz cut. He wore a battered black leather jacket, a dark colored V-neck, dark pants, and boots.

The second was a blonde woman, who seemed much younger than the man, with brown eyes. She wore a plain white shirt, a pink jacket with a hood, faded jeans and sneakers. Luz wasn't sure how the two could be wearing jackets, considering it was on the warmer side today. She pushed those thoughts aside as the two began talking.

“Gravesfield, Connecticut, 2015.” The man said, stressing the year the same way Mami did when Luz got the date wrong. Then there was his accent, while similar to some she had heard, it didn't sound quite American to her. British, maybe?

“And what happens?” The woman asked with a similar accent.

“Absolutely nothin’.” He told her. “Gravesfield’s ‘bout as borin’ as it gets.”

“Fantastic!’

Luz frowned. She didn't understand why someone would want boring. Boring was the worst. It was just so… boring! No, Luz would much rather adventure.

She was going to listen in more, maybe even go up and ask them questions (like who on Earth would want boring), when her phone rang. She took out her phone to find ‘Mami Calling’ in bold blocky words staring up at her. She slid back around the corner and answered.

“Mija, where are you?” Mami asked as soon as the call connected. “It’s almost dinner time.”

Shoot. She hadn't realized it was that late. Although, in her defense, it was hard to see the phone’s clock with the numbers so small. “Sorry, Mami, I got distracted.”

She heard Mami’s exasperated sigh. “Just hurry back, ok?”

“Ok!”

With the blue box and strange people forgotten, Luz made her way back to the house.

---

In the dead of night, a loud roar echoed through the quiet town of Gravesfield. Most people ignored it, slept right through the disturbance, but three people tensed. One was a little human girl that had woken up to get water. The other two were time travelers, an alien and his human companion, who were on their way back to their spaceship.

“Maybe it's a bear?” The girl from 2005 suggested.

The Time Lord shook his head. “That was no bear.”

---

Luz stood just outside the forest near the house. The sound from last night sounded like it came from here and it terrified her. Because what the heck could make that noise? No animal that Luz knew of, and Grandpa made sure to teach Luz about all kinds of wild animals while Mami did the same for pets.

She could still run, get back to the house and pretend nothing was wrong. What could she do anyways? She was just a little kid.

“Sometimes you've got to do the scary things, because it means protecting your family.” Grandpa’s words echoed in her head.

If she left this alone, whatever it was, there was the chance it could leave the forest and enter the town. What would it do to the people? Would it leave them alone or attack? Would Mami and Papi be in danger?

That thought alone spurred Luz to grab the largest stick she could find, giving it a swing. She wouldn't let anything hurt her family. She would be like Grandpa and protect them. She marched into the woods. Thunder rumbled over head as storm clouds seemed to swirl and a cold breeze tried to make her shiver.

Luz came to a stop as she came across an old house. It was a, clearly abandoned, two story house with white walls and a brown roof that had a large hole in it. The door was in the middle of two broken windows to either side of it. There were four pillars at the front of the porch, acting as support. The stairs up to the porch were worn from years exposed to the elements.

Luz had never seen this place before. Then again, Luz hadn't gone this deep into the woods before. She turned to keep moving, when she saw it. The creature.

It was big, maybe the size of a bear or car, and had an animal body with a horrifyingly human face. It had completely black eyes, grayish yellow sharp teeth and long orange fur protruding from equally long, pointed ears. Its body was covered in burnt orange fur, or maybe those were feathers, and it had two dark brown wings and black feet that resembled a bird of prey’s.

Luz yelped and stumbled back, to put more space between the two of them, as she raised her stick. Ok, so maybe this wasn't her best idea.

---

The Doctor was a bit too confused to really listen to whatever Rose was going on about. He just didn't understand why something was happening now and here. The only truly eventful thing that was supposed to happen in Gravesfield should have already happened in the decades following the town’s founding. The town takes part in the witch trials and two brothers go missing, that was it.

But now, they had some strange creature making a ruckus, which led the two time travelers to the edge of a forest.

“There’s a residential area nearby.” Rose pointed out.

“The Wittebane cabin should be in there.” The Doctor said in response.

“Why are we checking a cabin?” She asked.

“‘Cause it’s thought to be a hot spot of weird things.” There and the old graveyard but that place was flooded so it was easier to check the cabin first. Honestly, he was doing Rose a favor.

“Do we really need to do this? Might not be anythin’ at all.”

As if to prove her wrong, a shriek emanated from the forest. It sounded young, and that was all the Doctor needed to know to start running. He didn't even bother to look if Rose was following him, he just ran.

The shriek led them to, what the Doctor was sure was, the Wittebane cabin. A large creature had cornered a child on the cabin steps. The child held a jagged stick in one hand and looked terrified.

“Rose!” The Doctor turned to his companion to see her bent down and picking up a rock.

“On it!” she told him.

The Doctor was on the move again. He was about halfway there when the rock flew by him and hit the creature. Rose must have a good arm because there was an audible thud and the creature reared back. The Doctor took his chance to scoop up the child and kept running. Rose would catch up to him, he was sure. He held the child to his chest, their chin resting on his shoulder.

He didn't know how long they ran for, only that he stopped when he came across another clearing near a small stream of water.

“Are you ok?” He asked as he put the kid down.

“Mhm.” The kid looked up at him in awe before seeming to analyze him. He took a chance to do the same to them.

He didn't trust his knowledge of human ages enough to guess but they were definitely young. They were tan-skinned with brown eyes and dark brown hair that went down to her shoulders. They wore a pink short-sleeved collared shirt with a blue overall skirt on top and a pair of muddy yellow rain boots. The child seemed fine with the exception of a small scrape on their right knee.

“Good. That’s good.” He sighed. The scrape might not have anything to do with the creature, could just be a consequence of them being young. The child stared into his eyes intensely.

“You looked like my Grandpa.” They said suddenly.

They said it so suddenly all the Doctor could do was let out a meek, “What?”

Because what? What did they mean he looked like their grandpa? That shouldn't have been possible, he hadn't even been thinking about the earth or a person when he regenerated into this face. No, he had been thinking of war, regrets, and how badly he never wanted another travesty on par with the Time War.

Sure, there was always that small possibility that there was a human out there that looked like any of his faces but running into their family was less likely. And the possibility percentage just kept lowering as he narrowed it down in time.

There was only one person out there who could recognize him as a grandfather, someone who’s mere mention of a thought of them could cheer him up, no matter how grumpy his face was. Susan, his actual granddaughter. Susan, who always seemed to recognize him.

But the Doctor wasn't even sure if Susan was still out there. Much like himself, Susan got called back to Gallifrey at the start of the Time War, and, even though he had tried his best to keep them away from her, she answered them. The last time he had seen her, in his 8th face, where she had been running from Daleks and he dropped her off on Kasterborous, was still during the war, before The Moment. He didn't know if she was still on Gallifrey, fighting in the front lines like himself, when he ended it all. By the end of the war, he was too scared to go look for her. If she had, could this young child be her? It wouldn't be surprising if she regenerated. They all did, eventually. But would she really have regenerated so young?

“Yeah,” the child continued as if she wasn't causing him an internal crisis, “you have the same look in your eyes that Grandpa has.”

“Oh.” The Doctor wasn't sure if he should be excited or disappointed. On one hand, they weren't Susan but on the other, they weren't Susan.

“I’m Luz.”

“I’m the Doctor.”

“Doctor who?”

The Doctor couldn't help but smile at that. Such a response never got old.

“Doctor!” Rose ran up to them and had to take a moment to catch her breath. “We need to get out of here, that thing wasn't too far behind me.”

The Doctor and Luz looked in the direction Rose came from and, sure enough, there was the creature. It stood at the edge of the clearing, glaring at them, but not moving.

“Why isn't it attacking?” He thought out loud.

“What?” Rose turned to look at the creature. “It's just standing there.”

“But why?” There was no reason as to why it wouldn't attack. The three were just standing there.

“Could we maybe figure that out somewhere away from the giant thing that wants to kill us?” Rose tried.

“I suppose.” No matter how much the Doctor wanted answers, there was a child with them. He couldn't put them at risk like that. He turned to Luz. “Let’s get you out of here.”

“But what about the monster?” Their voice wavered enough that he knew they were scared.

“Me ‘n’ Rose’ll take care of it. No need to worry.” The Doctor picked Luz up and help them to his hip.

“Yeah,” Rose chimed in, “we do this kind of stuff all the time.”

“Really?” Luz looked at them with child-like wonder.

“Yup! So you can go home, watch some telly and leave this to us!”

It was rather easy to get Luz back home after that.

---

It was when they had made it to her house that the thought occurred to Luz.

“What if it was protecting its home?” She asked, her keys left in the lock.

“What?” The blonde, Rose, looked confused.

“Yeah! Mami says that some animals react poorly to people in their home.” Luz snapped her fingers together. “She said they were terri- terr- terre-”

“Territorial?” The Doctor suggested as she struggled with the word.

She pointed at him. “Yeah, that!”

“That is a possibility.” The Doctor agreed.

“But then, what is it?” Rose crossed her arms.

“It definitely doesn't originate from Earth.” The Doctor said instead of answering.

“Like an alien?” Papi would be so jealous if it was and she saw it before him. He loved anything to do with space.

“Most likely.”

“Pretty mindless for an alien.” Rose quickly added, “Compared to the ones we’ve seen.”

“You've met aliens?!” Now she was a little jealous. Meeting aliens sounded so cool.

The Doctor chuckled at Luz and patted her head. “And you have too.”

“Oh, yeah.” She guessed if the creature was an alien, she technically had met an alien.

“As for the creature, it's likely around the same level as Earth’s wildlife.” The Doctor told Rose.

“Does that mean those animal cop people can take care of it?” Of course Luz didn't know if Gravesfield had those but they should, right?

“Ya mean Animal Control?” The Doctor asked and Luz nodded. “I doubt it. They dunno what it is.”

“Do you, Doctor?” Rose repeated.

He shook his head. “I've never seen a species like that.”

“Wouldn't be the first time.” The blonde sighed. “Can you figure out where its from? Like with the Slitheen?”

“Slitheen? Is that a kind of alien?”

“Maybe if we went over what we knew.” The Doctor shoved his hands into his pockets.

“If you're gonna do that now,” Luz turned the keys in the lock and opened the door, “would you like some chips?”

“God, I would love chips.” Rose gave a toothy smile.

---

Turned out Rose did not love chips, Luz found out as she dumped a few of the small chip bags Mami sometimes gave her for snacks.

“What are these?” Rose asked, sounding a little offended.

“Chips.” Luz took one of the bags for herself. She halfheartedly hoped that Mami wouldn't notice the two extra missing chip bags. She, also, really wasn't supposed to have people over without a family member there.

“These aren't chips.” She said, taking a bag and holding it out, as if Luz didn't know what was in her own house. “These are crisps.”

“What are crisps?” Luz asked genuinely.

"These!"

"But those are chips."

Rose was about to say something when the Doctor raised a hand.

“Rose, remember, this is America. Crisps are chips here and chips are fries.” He took a bag as a light bulb turned on in Luz’s mind.

“Oh! You wanted fries? I’m pretty sure there’s some in the freezer I could make.” She then added after a moment. “But someone will have to turn on the oven. And put them in. and take them out. And turn the-”

“It's fine, Luz.” The Doctor patted her head. “The crisps work. Right, Rose?”

“Yeah, was just a bit confused.” The blonde gave an apologetic smile.

“Ok!” Luz opened her bag.

“So,” The Doctor put his bag back down, “what do we know?”

“It walks on all fours?” Luz tentatively offered, a chip in hand.

“Right, that narrows it down some.” The Doctor nodded. “What else?”

“It’s big.” Rose said. “Maybe the size of a bear?”

“Narrows it down. What else?”

“It's that terri-thingie.”

“Territorial.” The Doctor corrected. “Narrows it down. What else?”

“It's got wings.”

“Narrows it down.”

Luz looked into her chip bag. Only crumbs were left. She shrugged, lifted the bag to her mouth, and shook it.

“The face looks human.” Rose added.

“Narrows it down.”

“It’s light sensitive.” Luz flattened her now empty bag.

“What?” The Doctor straightened.

“How do you know that?” Rose asked.

“It’s eyes.” Luz grabbed some stray papers and a pencil that were used to make grocery lists. She made a quick drawing of the creature’s face the best she could. She filled in the eyes completely. “They're all black. Grandpa told me that animals with these kind of eyes are sensitive to lights, so they only come out at night or on really cloudy days.”

“Why does your grandpa know that?” Rose asked.

Luz shrugged. Neither Papi or Grandpa really ever explained how Grandpa came to know such things. Luz asked once about it and then didn't ever again when Grandpa got a far away look in his eyes.

“That’s really helpful, Luz.” The Doctor told her. “Maybe this way, we can deal with the creature without causing too much injury.”

They kept talking, trying to figure out where the creature came from, with varying success. They didn't have too much to work on, which according to the Doctor made it hard to really figure out where the creature came from. That being said, the Doctor was confident he had enough information to try and deal with the creature.

“So, what are we going to do now?” Luz dusted her hands after throwing away three empty chip bags.

“Me ‘n’ Rose are gonna deal with the creature and you stay here to watch some telly until your mum and dad come home.” The Doctor said firmly.

“But I can help!” Luz argued.

Rose bent down, so that she was eye level with Luz, and put a hand on her shoulder. “Look, Luz, what we do can get dangerous. And the Doctor just doesn't want you to get hurt.”

Luz huffed and crossed her arms. “I found it! I should be able to help you.”

“And you have!” Rose looked to the Doctor.

“If not for you, we wouldn't know about the eyes.” He told her. “And that alone is a massive detail that changed things.”

She pouted at them but stayed quiet.  Rose pulled her into a hug, which Luz returned despite her annoyance. It was nice. The blonde pulled away and gave her a smile. “Everything’ll be ok.”

“I know.” Luz tried to hide her resentment at that phrase. She had heard it a little too much recently.

The Doctor gave her shoulder a squeeze and then the two left. Luz watched as they made their way back into the woods and wished she could join them on their adventures. It would be a nice break from dull, boring Gravesfield. Then Luz remembered the blue box that was too small to comfortably hold two grown people. She barely waited before running out the door to act out her impulsive thoughts.

---

Luz made it to the box and took it in. It was a dark blue wooden box with dirty yellow windows. Near the top of the box was a black sign with ‘Police Public Call Box’ in white. The worn white sign on the left door with a bunch of stuff Luz really didn't care about. The most important thing was the ‘Pull to Open’ at the bottom of the sign.

She pulled the door open and had to blink. Luz stepped into the box and stopped about where the box would have ended. Unsure, she took another step, expecting to run into a wall or something. That didn't happen. Nothing stopped her.

“Magic box!” Luz gasped and ran around the room.

The best way Luz could describe the inside was, having a coral theme, with coral support beams. The walls were colored gold and had small hexagonal impressions. There was a raised platform in the room’s center with some kind of six-sided console filled with so many random devices Luz wasn't sure what to mess with first.

Luz had to smack her cheeks to bring herself back into focus. She came here because she wanted the Doctor and Rose to take her on an adventure, like what they denied her. She was sure the box belonged to them and so she’d use it to ambush them into taking her. To do that, she needed to hide.

Too bad Rose and the Doctor took longer than Luz originally thought. By the time they got back, Luz had fallen asleep in her hiding spot.

[ahmedmootaz]

This is kinda impossible, but what if Enoch/Tiphereth B survived into Library of Ruina/brought back to life after the good ending somehow and also got turned into a child along with Tiphereth A?

Would lil Lisa end up becoming bolder and have a sharper tongue than she does in AIP without him?

What would a younger than ever before Enoch/Tiphereth B act since Tiphy also had a personality change in AIP?

How would Ayin react to seeing his first-to-die adoptive son again?

How would X react to seeing the person whose first death was what kickstarted the whole spiral of suffeeing that lead to the Script and X existence?

How would Roland react to seeing someone that he cringely called Tiphereth's boyfriend before she corrected him with a punch?

Which dad would end up taking him in? Ayin because he wants to be a dad to Enoch again and Lisa insists she and Enoch are siblings? Roland because he seems to have the most calm/thoughtful kids and Enoch is one philosophical child? X because Garion wants someone to have debates with and because he needs someone calm amongst his kids?

Most importantly, what more cute and sad interactions would we have had if Enoch was present in AIP?

Dear Anonymous,

Ah, such a poignant question, eh? I suppose it's only natural considering how important Enoch is to Tiphy, and how it's inevitable that he will have to be addressed at some point, so I'm quite glad that we'll touch on that in this ask, ehehe.

Well, to start things off, I think that bringing Enoch into the Library cannot be done without some good angst. After all, the poor boy's story is just chock-full of it, and who am I to not add onto a good angsty story?

I think, as a start, that if Enoch was transported to the Library as Tiphereth B, then he would have severe memory loss issues as a side-effect of his constant reconstruction in the Corporation and the fact that he was turned into a Sephirah long after he died (since it's implied he died at least a few weeks before Carmen's suicide, and definitely a month or two before everything went down the drain and the Head attacked), so his brain was certainly not in prime condition. I think his personality and intelligence would remain unchanged, but he would definitely have difficulty remembering faces and names, and perhaps even people. Maybe he'd only really remember Tiphy/Lisa and perhaps some deeply-implanted memories of Carmen and Ayin, since he was quite attached to the two of them during his lifetime (from what little we hear about him, anyway), so I think his presence in the Library would be a constant source of joy and torment for Tiphy/Lisa, since she'd be overjoyed he could actually join her again and she didn't have to mourn him anymore, but at the same time, seeing his state sometimes makes her wish that he was actually resting.

Should he be de-aged alongside the rest of the Librarians, I think he would definitely get Lisa to open up a little, if only to speak up on his behalf because he would be quite quiet and calm. I think that, although she would be shy as well, she would grow a little bolder to voice his demands and opinions, at least with Ayin. Of course, it's only logical that Ayin would take him in as well, seeing how he'd be inseparable from Lisa. In LC, it seemed as if they knew each other ever since they were little kids, so I assume that Lisa would definitely recognise him, although she wouldn't really be overprotective of him seeing how she'd remember nothing of the Old Laboratory, but she'd definitely have a nagging sensation in her mind that demands she doesn't separate from him at all costs and to always keep him under her gaze, though she would probably be lax on that sensation from time to time.

As for differences in character...Perhaps Enoch wouldn't be as...resigned as he was shown to be in LC. That was one of his most defining features, considering it was what led him to he okay with the Cogito experiment and threw the whole LC cast down the rabbit hole it's known for, so perhaps he would still be calm, intelligent and eccentric, though not necessarily as much of a death-seeker or as resigned as he was, showing some determination of his own when he'd be given a warm house and a warm family without the Outskirts' memories.

How would Ayin react...I think he'd be very scared, all things considered, in the same way someone would be scared of breaking a million-dollar vase. After all, it'd be like seeing a ghost, and considering the circumstances surrounding Enoch, it would a ghost that haunted Ayin for his entire life. I think that describing their relationship in a single word would be: Guilt. It's not similar to any of the guilt that Ayin has to grapple with on a regular basis, however; it is a crushing, all-encompassing guilt that encompasses everything that was caused by the experiment with Enoch, from Carmen's death to the Library's creation, and it would also be the type of guilt that flinches at how unassuming Enoch would be. Whenever he'd innocently thank or hug or shake Ayin's hand, it would cause tremendous amounts of guilt to the older man simply because he knows how this story ended, even though Enoch would harbour no ill-will whether de-aged or as a theoretical Patron Librarian.

When it comes to X, I don't think he'd harbour any anger or resentment to Enoch, although it'd certainly be a fascinating thought experiment for him to go: "I wouldn't have been here without him, huh?", and he would likely give him a few stares from time to time for no reason other than that he's simply fascinated by his presence considering he only ever saw him under the Script's influence. He would see what Carmen regretted so much following the Cogito experiment, and if anything I think he would pity him for what he had to endure during the Script.

As for Roland, I think this is the most interesting of the dads not when it comes to the reaction to Enoch and his interactions with him, but with how Enoch forms Roland's perception of Ayin; he knew that Enoch was sacrificed for the Cogito experiment, but seeing how calm and friendly he is would definitely increase the resentment for the experiment (and subsequently Ayin) tenfold...at least at the start of the Incident. When he and Ayin grow closer, I think Roland might start asking if there were other ways to progress the Cogito research without resorting to experimenting on Enoch, and he would definitely understand the plight of the Old Laboratory more, not being too judgemental although not letting off the Old Lab off the hook for using Enoch so readily, even if there was a lot of hesitation with the decision. Eventually, I think Roland sees Enoch as a turning point for Ayin, in a way, with the latter's immense guilt and pain would drive him towards being a better person to try taking care of him not just as Enoch, but as Tiphy B whenever they do manage to turn the kids back.

Although all of the possibilities with other parents work precisely for the reasons you mentioned, I think that it's simply long overdue for us to give Ayin a second chance at this parenting business, especially when he's the one with such an emotional connection to Enoch both before and after the Old Lab's fall.

As for cute and sad interactions...Hmm, well, I think Enoch would mellow out a little with Angela, cooing at her and playing with her as his real little sister, which would definitely inflame the flames of jealousy between her and Lisa, with Lisa vying for Ayin's affection as a way to get back at Angela for hogging 'her' Enoch. It would be one of the more unique 'battles' out there, eheh.

But as for sad interactions...perhaps the saddest of them all would be Ayin realising that he has to re-age Enoch back into Tiphy B and endure the loss and separation again after just 15 days together as the father and son they always should've been. It definitely makes the decision to re-age the Librarians far harder, especially considering the difficulties Enoch would contend with as Tiphereth B...Of course, without mentioning the copious sad interactions where Ayin shrivels a little on himself whenever he'd see Enoch appreciating him, knowing deep down that he failed him long, long ago...

Of course, there are many more possible interactions, but this ask is getting quite a bit long now, so hey, if you're curious about them you can always send a separate ask and I'll try to answer semi-soonish. Until next time, Anon, be well, stay safe, and see ya'!

[another-clive-blog]

I know that I already sent an ask earlier but I haven't decided on a request then. I have an request of a fanfic being about Clive and co hanging out at the bookstore. Like maybe Clive and Luke are looking at some puzzle books together as a way to see who could solve the most.

Thank you so much !! That's such a great idea too !!! The siblings ever ;^;

Alright so this one is longer than usual ! It starts with light-hearted fun, then gets a bit angsty, and then a bit fluffy at the very end. Featuring Clive, Luke and Flora having a puzzle competition and talking a bit about emotions !! (Yes Clive does try. He's less mean here than I usually write him ahah)

It takes place at the library in Chinatown. Layton, Clive, Flora and Luke take a break there before heading to the towering pagoda =)

"This has been nice, but we should go back to our investigation now," Big Luke said politely, although these distractions were starting to be quite the bother. Could you blame him ? All of them were wasting precious time with people and activities that didn't matter, unlike his plan- which was exactly why they should focus on the investigation and quit running around in that stupid library.

"Stop being such a partypooper," Little Luke pouted, "you're giving me a bad name."

Big Luke almost choked. A partypooper ? Him ?? "I beg your pardon ?"

"Well, you're me." Little Luke explained, as if this was somehow the concept Big Luke was failing to grasp.

"That's not-"

"Which means," Little Luke added with a smile, "that I know you love libraries. Because I do ! And the professor said that we could stay here for a few more minutes, so we should take a look and have fun !"

Of course the professor had said so. He was probably busy borrowing hundreds of books he would never be able to return.

Apparently, Little Luke had decided to be annoying today. "Well, that's what I'm gonna do anyway. If you want to stop looking so miserable, you can always join me." He didn't wait for an answer, quickly leaving with a wide grin.

"Wh- miserable ?!" Big Luke- scratch that, Clive was offended. He was not miserable : he was just... standing right outside the store. With his arms crossed. And a frown on his face.

Because they were all annoying !! Not because he was a partypooper. And he would prove it to that brat ! "Alright, you asked for it. Hey Little Luke, I have a fun idea !"

Luke's face brightened with joy when he saw his future self join him among the rows of books. "Yeah ? What is it !"

Oh, Clive would absolutely wipe that excited smile off his face. "Let's see if we can find a book about puzzles. Maybe we could have a competition !"

Luke was practically jumping up and down now. "I'll look in this pile of books !!" He said before immediately diving in.

Wow, the kid was... really into puzzles, uh ? And here Clive thought that he was following the professor around solely for the title of apprentice : maybe there was more to it than a kid trying to feel important.

It- eh, it didn't matter. He was absolutely going to beat the brat at his own game.

Big Luke started looking among the books right in front of him. He didn't know any of these books- he didn't even know if there was a book about puzzles here. He had only supervised the city's construction : he had asked for a library, not what was inside. Who had decided on that ? Dimitri ? The books were mostly about science, so Dimitri probably had-

"What are you looking for ?"

Big Luke almost screamed, but he didn't. He was a twenty three-year-old man, a criminal, a gentleman, and most importantly- he was in a library. "Can't you keep your voice down and behave a little ?!"

Flora giggled. "Oh, I'm sorry. It was just too tempting, but you're right. I shouldn't have surprised you like that."

Clive took a deep breath and pushed away the seven first replies that came to mind. "No, it's quite alright. I'm sorry too. What was your question ?" Big Luke asked with a barely strained smile. Why were they all testing his patience today ? They -purposefully ?- made it incredibly hard to keep up the act.

"It's fine !" Flora smiled. "I was wondering what you were doing. Little Luke seemed very excited, and he only ever acts like this when the professor gives him an especially difficult puzzle."

He... did ? "Uh. We were- we were looking for a book about puzzles. To have a puzzle competition." Big Luke stammered like an idiot. Very uncharacteristic, she was definitely about to call out his bluff now.

"Really ?! Can I join you two ?" Flora's voice was maybe a bit loud, but Clive decided to let it go.

Big Luke smiled serenely. "Sure, why not ! But we have to find that book first."

Flora enthusiastically nodded, a delighted smile on her lips. "I'll go look this way !!" And with that, she left a confused Big Luke behind.

Alright, that was... weird. Either these kids loved puzzles to a concerning amount, or... or what ?

Maybe this was a trap. They were trying to get him to slip up, reveal too much by acting so weird around him. Maybe they were glad he gave them a way to figure out if he really was Luke, because there was no way these kids weren't going to beat him- they were basically fed puzzles since birth. He was going to get absolutely destroyed.

Well, it was too late to back down now. All he could do was try his best at the puzzles and not act suspicious : and if this whole thing turned sour, he could always escape and get to the mecha first. He knew this town better than they did, knew all of its secrets.

Alright, alright, get it together. It didn't have to come to that. Maybe they wouldn't find the book before the break was over. Maybe there wasn't even a book to start with-

"I found it !" Luke yelled from the other side of the story and quickly apologized when gently hushed by Layton, busy reading a huge encyclopedia.

Oh, great.

-_-_-_-

"Yes ! Another win for me !!" Flora celebrated, and Luke shot her a nasty look, trying his hardest not to pout. With this victory, Flora and Little Luke were back to a tie.

And Big Luke was one puzzle behind.

It wasn't catastrophic. His opponents had far more experience and the greatest mentor anyone could have asked for, while Clive had none of that. He was doing pretty well, given the context.

But he needed to do better.

"Alright, that was well played," Little Luke finally smiled. Flora's joy was contagious, and he was having fun anyway. This puzzle competition was a great idea !

"Thank you," Flora said before turning to Big Luke with a grin. "Your turn !! Here is your puzzle, Big Luke..."

Clive frowned, staring at the page. It wasn't an easy one- of course it wasn't. They had deliberately chosen the hardest section of the book, these little brats. 'So that we get a bit of a challenge,' according to them.

Clive was already dealing with far too many challenges- for example, him pretending to be Big Luke. That one was going just great. What were they going to think, if he couldn't solve that puzzle ?

Because he couldn't, despite how much he tried. None of his attempts worked, none of the hints helped. He was going to fail. What should he do now ? Maybe-

Little Luke and Flora shared a concerned glance, before Luke suddenly closed the book.

Big Luke startled, looking at him in confusion. "I wasn't done," he pointed out.

Little Luke didn't say anything, only avoiding his gaze, so Flora did. "You're not having fun," she simply explained.

"What ?" Oh, he was done for. Luke loved puzzles, Luke wouldn't stop a puzzle competition because he wasn't having fun. "Of course I am. I-"

Flora held her hands up, interrupting him. "It's fine ! With Luke, we thought that... erm..."

"You're really struggling," Luke finished. "...It's because of the Professor of the future, isn't it ? You don't like puzzles anymore."

Clive just stared.

"It's hard not to notice differences between you and Little Luke," Flora gently explained. "But you seem... less enthusiastic. About puzzles. And... us, too. So we thought..." She got quieter and quieter, before she stopped speaking entirely.

Something finally clicked in Clive's mind. "Oh no- no no no ! It's not- I'm not- It's okay."

"Is it ?" Little Luke asked in a small voice. "You don't look okay."

"Things have been-"

"Are you okay ?"

Clive fell silent. Why were they asking him that ? They truly believed he was Big Luke, which meant that he didn't matter to them. The narrative here was that they were trying to keep this future from worsening and then they would go back to their own time. Big Luke was supposed to disappear, one way or another.

Maybe... maybe that's what scared them. The idea that things would disappear, that change was unavoidable- that familiar and pleasant things would become a source of pain. It was- it was a lot for a child, Clive realized.

He remembered things being a lot as a child.

"You will be," Clive gently told him.

"You didn't answer," Flora pointed out. Now that he really looked for it, Clive noticed that she sounded quite unhappy too.

They really were worried and scared.

Clive didn't know how to handle this. He wasn't really big on emotions and feelings or whatever, and why would he be ? It's not like stupid Dimitri and him would talk about their lives around a nice cup of tea.

But he couldn't just brush them off. "Listen," he sighed, "I don't know. Things are a bit crazy right now, so it's hard to say. We'll know in a few hours, I guess."

The kids still looked sad, but nodded nonetheless. Great, so his job was done. "How are you two doing ?" Clive asked, for some reason, although he had decided he was done.

Probably to make his whole Big Luke lie more believable.

"I'm... a bit scared," Flora admitted. "Well, not scared- I know the professor will fix everything. But things here are still... concerning. And sad."

Clive nodded before staring at Little Luke : the latter kept his head down. "I'm not scared. We're going to fix everything here."

Well, that sure sounded familiar.

He was supposed to answer, wasn't he ? What would someone who wasn't him say ? "It's... okay to be scared. It's a lot to deal with, and no one expects you to fix it all on your own," Clive said. Constance... used to tell him that. Why was he only remembering these words now ? "But whatever happens, you'll be okay. My life kinda sucks, but yours don't have to. Change the things you can change, learn from people's mistakes, talk to others, I don't know. Just don't let it end that way." Well, that part was not Constance's.

Flora laughed. "You're still very bad at comforting people."

"Hey !"

Clive smiled. "Some things never change."

"I'm very good at comforting people !" Little Luke protested. "I can prove it ! Bring me someone who's feeling bad !!"

"I'm good," Flora said, and she sounded genuinely happier.

"Well, Big Luke ?" Little Luke stared at him. "You did say that your life... uh..."

Clive scoffed. "I'm not asking a 13 years old for advice."

"You're just scared I'll be better than you, again," Little Luke smirked.

Clive crossed his arms, mocking his friend. "No, I'm not. And you know what ? Let's redo this puzzle competition. I'm going to beat you this time."

Flora hesitated. "Are you sure ? The professor-"

"The professor is busy," Clive replied. "What, are you two scared of losing ? That's pathetic, truly-"

Little Luke was already opening the book, looking for a new puzzle. "Alright, but you asked for it. If the professor wants to ground someone, I'm not the one who started this thing." He seemed even more excited than the first time.

"This is so much fun !!" Flora clapped her hands, waiting for the first puzzle.

Surprisingly, Clive found himself agreeing with her.

[mydarllinglover]

SafeHouse || Eight

Previous

I had spent most of the Easter Holiday's helping Ron with Buckbeaks appeal, the both of us had taken on Responsibility, Him due to Harry and Hermione's filled schedules and me to get away from the Slytherins.

I was trying my best to avoid Malfoy at all costs, as a result it meant I had spent a lot less time with Theo and Blaise.

Putting their differences with Ron aside, (although it didn't stop the bickering and constant insults) sometimes they would come in the Library to help, until they got bored or thrown out by madam Pince for being too noisy.

Ron and I had the task of juggling our heavy homework load and the appeal, but we managed it the best we could.

The both of us pouring over enormously thick volumes such as; The Handbook of Hippogriff Psychology and Fowl or Foul? A Study of Hippogriff Brutality.

I was actually proud of Ron, this was probably the most he has ever read, and for the longest amount of time, willingly.

The night before the Slytherin VS Gryffindor Match, everyone was way to hyped and causing Chaos.

I could never say this aloud, out of fear that my whole house would set the most horrendous curses on me, but I had secretly hoped that Gryffindor will win tomorrow, just because I know It will piss off Malfoy, but obviously also because my brothers are playing and Harry.

I wasn't even thinking about going, and instead work more on the appeal.

I had escaped to the library, barely anyone were here due to the excitement of the match tomorrow.

Ron had also ditched helping for the night for the match tomorrow.

Perfect.

I had all the Different books open on important pages scattered around the table, notes all over and I was currently attempting to write out all the important key points in my neatest handwriting for Hagrid, constantly looking back between mine and Ron's notes.

"What are you doing here?" I felt their presence before they could say anything. "The both of you should be preparing for the match tomorrow, and as their mate you should of made sure they were doing that" I told the three of them

"wow, She didn't shout at you" Theo sounded impressed

"Shut up- The reason we are here, is because He- is blubbering about you-

"I have never "Blubbered" in my life you prick" Malfoy glared at Blaise

"Anyway! Draco is not in the head space to play tomorrow, he's been shit at practise and its keeping us up with his tossing and turning-"

"Yeah, some people call that guilt" I rolled my eyes.

"And dont get me started on his bloody pacing!" Theo burst

"So, I think its best if you can sort this out and let him say what it is he so desperately wants you to hear" Blaise said "Its dangerous"

"awe Pity, make sure you memorise a spell to catch your fall then" I said, not bothering to look up from my notes "Now if you don't mind, I'm quite busy"

"I told you! She's too stubborn for anyone's good" Malfoy muttered, I could practically hear the eye roll

"Yknow- you're really not helping your case" Theo said

"there is no case if she won't listen! what else am I supposed to do? lets just go"

"could quit with the comments" Theo suggested

"like you've ever listened to that, lets just leave her alone"

"No, because not only could you hurt yourself, but you could end up hurting Blaise, everyone else, and her friend Potter and her brothers!" Theo said "So even if she wont accept your stupid apology, you're going to say it"

The thought didn't occur to me that he could potentially put other people at risk if his head wasn't in it, And if anyone got hurt, that would be on me.

"Fine." I sighed. All three of them stopped their childish bickering and stared at me "I haven't got long to waste, Malfoy, so hurry up and get on with it" I rolled my eyes.

The three of them pulled out chairs, Malfoy sitting opposite me, Theo and Blaise opting to create a distance and sitting near the corners of the table.

"Firstly, I'm sorry, about what I said about your family, I never meant to insult you, I swear-

"So why did you say it, to my brother, when you didn't know I was there?"

"I- uh, Its because- Its because, you know Wea- Your brother and I don't like each other, and that we argue, so I just say things that I know will affect him I guess, whatever will get a reaction out o-"

"that is the most pathetic thing I have ever heard" I blinked

"Secondly, About the Hippogriff, I didn't mean for all this to happen, I didn't plan for him to be executed, all I thought would happen was that he would get taken to some place for animals to live, It was my father who had dealt with it, and the trial, I promise, it was not my intention. I am so sorry, Keira, Please, I am so sorry, I just want us to be alright again"

"Wow, you must really care about having me around, I dont know whether to feel adored or creeped out, do you swear on your life you didn't mean to have Buckbeak end up in this predicament?"

"Yes"

"I guess I could think about forgiving you, If you promise to stop taunting my Brother and his friends"

"I- I cant do that, but anything else and you've got it"

I pondered for a moment.

"I know, you owe me Florean Fortescue's ice cream whenever I want"

"done!"

"fine then, we're good, Now, all of you to bed-

"Why me? I'm not bloody playing!"

"Because, I'm busy and your just going to bug me, and I don't want you disturbing them going back to bed" God, I sounded like mum.

"Do remember to sleep" Blaise told me "Are you coming tomorrow?"

"I dont know, I haven't decided yet" I told him honestly.

"Bye K" Theo bid me goodbye then walked out of the library

"Yeah, goodnight" Blaise said, then retreating to follow his friend.

"And you're still here because?" I dropped my quill to see Draco still sat there

He didn't say anything, just dropped my necklace on the parchment I was writing on and left.

I picked it up, running my hands over the snake, before putting the chain around my neck and picked up my quill to continue writing.

•

"Wake up" A voice kept repeating, I felt a constant poking in my ribs and my eyes started fluttering open.

"Go away" I mumbled to the person disturbing me.

"No, the game's about to start and I dont want to go by myself" Theo moaned "I thought you said you were going to actually go to bed"

"Yeah and then I got too caught up and just fell asleep here" I lifted my head and pushed my red hair out of my face

"You finished it?" He asked me, reaching over to pull the parchment off my face.

"I just hope its enough" I bit my lip

"Lets go then" He said

"what? I can't, I'm not even ready"

"sure you are, come on".

"You are so annoying" I rolled my eyes

"I've been spending too much time around you" he replied.

•

"I think Fred Like's Angelina" I told Theo as we watched him get told off by Madam Hooch.

"What, like it wasn't obvious, did you see that throw" Theo laughed. "Imagine if they go out and she mixes him up with the other one"

"George-

"Has that ever happened to you and Weasley?"

"You mean has anyone ever confused me and Ron? do I look like a bloke?" I stared at him

"Good point, didn't think about that"

"Its not looking too good for us" I grimaced when Wood blocked the goal

"Draco better catch that snitch or this is going to be so embarrassing"

"The only thing that I enjoy about these quidditch matches is Lee Jordan and McGonagalls bickering" I laughed after McGonagall tried to wrestle Lee for the mic after he swore when Flint scored

"He's friends with The brother twins isn't he?"

"Yeah, he's probably the only person that The twins hang out with that isn't each other" I laughed

"So the school years nearly over, before the summer holidays" Theo started "Got any plans?"

"Um no not really, Probably just be at the Burrow mostly" I said

"Whats a Burrow?"

"Its where I live"

"Oh, yeah I knew that...but I was wondering, The three of us normally spend holidays together, either at Malfoy Manor or Blaise's when his mums not home, maybe we can all meet up and do someth-"

"WE'VE WON THE CUP! WE'VE WON THE CUP!" The Gryffindors cheered.

Harry had caught the Snitch and I had completely missed it.

On one hand I was proud that my brothers and my friend had won but on the other, I wasn't sad that we had lost, because I don't care, doesn't affect me, but I felt bad that Blaise and Draco had lost and I knew that they would be in bad moods, the whole house would be in a bad mood, and they were already a gloomy lot.

Great.

•

Exams coming very soon, all of Hogwarts was unpleasant, especially Slytherin house, with spirits already low from the match, it didn't help that everyone was antsy and snappy with preparing and studying.

"Why in Merlin's name are you crying?!" Draco barked at me.

The four of us were in the boys dorm studying, the three of them on their beds and I was lying on the floor buried under all my books and loose parchment

"I cry when I'm nervous, or stressed, or angry, or upset" I sobbed "And I am really stressed out"

"Just breathe" Blaise told me

"Scream into this" Theo said before chucking a pillow at my face, I grabbed it and pushed it so it could muffle my sobs and crying

"Okay, Im over it now. Thats Charms, Care of Magical Creatures, Astronomy, Divination, Hermione is so lucky she dropped it-

"Wait, Granger dropped a class?" Blaise asked, looking amused

"Yeah, Merlin, Ron said that Trelawney said a bunch of weird crap about having the inner eye so Hermione just said she was done and left" I laughed "I hate that bug eyed hag"

"Whats the spell that scares away Boggarts?" Theo asked aloud

"Riddikulus" Draco told him, not looking up from his own books

"Hang on, I need to clear this" I said gesturing to the books and parchments "its reflecting my mind"

"Yeah, thanks, your trashing our room" Theo rolled our eyes

"So I'm guessing you don't want my Care of Magical Creatures notes, let me just go put them in my Dorm" I said

"Wait no, K please, I love that you make yourself at home" He grinned

"Yeah thought so" I rolled my eyes and dropped the notes he would be needing on his bed than gathered all the stuff I wouldn't need to put on my bed in my own dorm, into my arms, humming one of my favourite songs by this muggle band, Fleetwood Mac.

Walking out the door I bumped into Pansy Parkinson who was hovering by the door

"Oh Drakeypoo, Your girlfriends waiting for you!" I popped my head back in to call for Draco

"Hey! dont call him that, only I can" she glared daggers at me

"You say it like I care"

"She's not my girlfriend" I heard Draco shout before I left for my dorm.

Dropping the books on my bed, before quickly leaving the room I barely occupied.

I walked back into the boys dorm, the three of them looking uncomfortable with Pansy stood there saying some bollocks to Draco.

"Get out." I told the girl casually, pointing at the door

"Excuse me, blood traitor"

"I said get out, now! It means, you leave where you are not wanted" I blinked

"No one asked you, you know, they dont even like you anyway, freak" She spat at me "muggle lover weirdo"

"Get the hell out Pansy." Draco told her. She jumped and span around to face him again

"What? I- what about her?" she pouted

"Did I say her name?" He asked her in a patronising tone "Now get out my room before I tell everyone that thing!" He told her, eyebrows narrowed.

Eyes wide, she scampered out the room, making sure to barge through me on her way out.

"Wow, that must be some thing she did to make her leave that quickly, was it with you" I smirked

"Quiet Weasley" He snapped, making me burst with laughter.

"It was!" I exclaimed "Draco middle-name Malfoy, tell me!"

•

The suspense turned out to be more stressful than the actual exams

I successfully transformed a teapot into a tortoise with out any extra stuff attached to it. Unlike some.

I managed to perform an excellent cheering charm on Theo for Charms class, although I am pretty sure he egged it on just to get me a higher grade.

Luckily my flobberworm stayed alive in Care of Magical Creatures. Although that was pretty simple and not much was required to take care of it.

The exam I was dreading the most, Potions, because of Snape being a biased, annoying and rude git was ruthless when it came to grading.

But luckily, Draco being the second best in the class helped me study and gave the easy basics to get a pass. My confusing concoction turned out well.

The worst exam was Astronomy, waking up and taking an exam in the middle of the night was horrible, most of it was spent leaning on Theo's shoulder, trying to keep each other awake.

I wasn't confident in my Defence Against the Dark Arts exam as I don't do well at physical activity, and obstacle courses are not my forte.

"That stupid old bat" I muffled a scream on The Slytherin table "No one has bloody seen anything in a glass sphere, stupid fraud" I growled "we should just drop Divination.

"Weasley chill out, I'm sure you will be fine" Blaise patted my back

"I'm going to drop it, can I drop it?"

"I dont bloody know" He told me.

"Wait there's Ron, I'm going to ask him about the appeal, be back in a bit." I said before leaping from the table to see me brother.

"Hey Ron, How'd it go?" I asked him

"The appeal or my exams, cause the answer to both is horrible" He said, looking glum

"What?! He lost, does that mean- They can't!"  i gasped

"Here" He sighed before handing me a slip of parchment in Hagrids scratchy handwriting

Lost appeal. They're going to execute at sunset. Nothing you can do. Don't come down. Idon't want you to see it.

Hagrid

"I'm so sorry Ron" I whispered as I dropped the parchment onto the table, everything becoming blurry as my eyes filled with tears

"We did all we could" He said lowly.

I sped walked out of the Great Hall before my tears dropped, but trying to not gain any unwanted attention.

I managed to make it to the Common room before I dropped to my knees and the tears came flooding, not long before I was surrounded by my friends, One of them scooping me up in their arms and just holding me whilst I cried about everything I could of done and the guilt of not being there from the start. I hated that I was so emotional. And I hated that I was crying, It's so annoying and inconvenient.

"Its okay, K, It's not your fault" Theo told me, releasing his hold only partly so he could look at me

"Its my fathers, I'm so sorry" Draco told me earnestly.

"We know how much you worked for it, please dont blame yourself" Blaise had said.

We had spent the rest of the evening in their dorm, talking about nonsense and our predictions for our grades. Obviously Draco would do the best out of the three of us, He had the second best grades in our year, Hermione being number one a constant annoyance for him.

When the sun set I had known what had went down.

I didn't cry this time, but my heart was heavy. I didn't blame Draco, I believed how his father had took over and he didn't wish for this to happen, I know that deep down he has a good heart, even if it is very very very very deep down and buried in coal.

Later in the evening when the Full Moon and Stars were out, There was a pecking at the window.

"Keira, Its for you" Theo said as he had passed me the envelope the owl had delivered.

"Thats strange, must be important if it's being delivered now" I narrowed my eyebrows as I flicked up the lid?

"Merlin" I gasped, putting a hand to my mouth

"What is it?" Draco asked me

"Ron's in the hospital wing! I gotta go see him" I sprang to my feet and rushed out the room. On my way through the common room I bumped into someone. It was a Forth year, I recognised him from the quidditch team, a chaser.

Adrian pucey.

Who was Extremely nice to look at.

"Oh Merlin, I am so sorry" I mumbled out apologies

"Don't worry about it, I was the one in the way, Weasley, Isn't it?" He asked me

"Y-yeah, It is. Anyways, I should get going" I blushed

"Nice meeting you, officially, make sure to not make it the last" He smiled sincerely.

"y-yeah, definitely, for sure" I said

I grinned like an idiot, bumping into a wall as I walked backwards until I got to the exit and out of the common room, gathering my senses I ran to the hospital wing to find my brother.

"Ron! what the bloody hell happened?" My eyes bugged out as I caught sight of his broken leg slung up, him resting in a bed. He looked confused looking around the room "What is it?"

"H-Har-, Harry and Hermione were stood right there" He pointed at an empty space in the middle of the ward

Walking up to him, I placed a hand on his forehead "Did you hit your head?" I asked

"No! You wouldn't even begin to believe the night I've just had" He pushed my hand away.

At that moment, Harry and Hermione had ran back in.

They froze before seeing me by Ron's bed before jumping back into theirs.

Ron was about to question them until Madam Pomfrey came bustling out "Did I hear the headmaster leave? Am I allowed to look after my patients now?" She was in a bad mood. "Oh, Miss Weasley, say goodbye and off to bed, you will be able to see them tomorrow, they need to rest!" She told me, I waved bye to my brother and friends before rushing out of the ward, not wanting to get on Madam Pomfreys bad side.

•

I never found out what had actually happened that night, just that Ron had got attacked by the whomping willow apparently, and had broke his leg.

Every time I asked them about it, they would just give each other suspicious looks and change the subject until I stopped asking.

Unlike Draco, I was sad to hear the news of Lupin resigning, he was by far one of my favourite teachers.

I was Actually shocked at myself for not realising that he was a Werewolf, the signs were all there but I wasn't paying enough attention. Note to self, stop being so self absorbed.

It was the Last day of the school year, In the Great Hall at the feast.

The room was covered in Red and Gold.

I looked around the room at all the new friends I had made, a little montage of the year playing in my mind.

I had ups and Downs but at the end of it, I was glad that I had made a good group of people I had grown to care about, a lot. Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini, Even though they do may head in and the biggest arseholes I have ever met. It also doesn't help that the people I care about all hate each other.

We were planning on spending most of the summer together, the four of us, and arranging the best times to stay at either Draco's or Blaises.

Draco was telling (more like gloating) us about the Quidditch world cup and how his father could get us all the best seats.

"I don't care that you don't like Quidditch, you're coming with us, I don't want to be bored by myself" Theo told me.

"I'll most likely come, but my dad might get tickets so I don't know if they want me to go with them" I explained

"Come with us, Our seats will be better, and no doubt Granger and Potter will be invited by your brother" Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"I'll think about it, wait can I even stay round your guys house's, will your parents be okay with that, one, because I'm a girl and two because my family aren't that popular in your families social circle"

"You spend most of your time in our dorm than your own" Theo said.

"Doesn't matter round mine, we will only go round when Mother and one of her many husbands aren't" Blaise said "no doubt they'll be travelling around the world on holiday".

"Just be quiet and dont say anything stupid and it'll be fine" Draco shrugged "Just watch out for my Father, he doesn't favour gingers"

"I'm going to miss this" I smiled, taking one more look around the room.

"It's only until September" Theo laughed "We will back before you know it"

"Sadly" Draco rolled his eyes, making me budge my shoulder with him.

"Weasley" I turned around to see the person who had called my name, Adrian Pucey.

"Adrian, hey" I smiled up at him

"Hey, I was just wondering if I could get your address, I want to write to you during the summer holidays" He grinned.

I could feel my cheeks blushing.

Since the day I had bumped into him, We had exchanged a lot of greetings and small talk, always smiling at each other in the halls, and he would sometimes talk to me when I was alone in the common room.

"Sure thing, that would be cool" I took out a piece of spare parchment and a quill from my robes, for emergency's, and scribbled down my address with an x then passed it to him, our hands touching for a milisecond.

"have a nice summer, Keira" He said before leaving to join his friends.

I turned back around to see my friends glaring at me "What?"

"HAve a nIce sUmMer kEira" Theo mocked

"Shut up" I shoved his shoulder

He's a prick" Draco said

"and your not?" I said

"You Know he's a year older than you, right?" Blaise said

"And? It doesn't matter, Anyways, we're just friends, nothing is even going on between us, and if it were, It is none of your Business" I booped all Three of their noses and all three of them scrunching up their faces.

Next

[dia-souls]

🥀 Subayui fanfic 🥀

Pairing: Subaru🗡️ and Yui 🌸

Author: Admin Ava

Genre: Funny, Sweet themes, Happy ending

Chapter: 3

Admin's note: ⚠️ This Chapter includes violence themes, Choking, humiliate ⚠️

“Ok, class, I need to step out for a minute. Finish chapter 8 on your own. I’ll be back” As the door closed the students started to chat amongst themselves. Mainly about mundane topics, but the main thing on everyone’s minds was the dance on Friday. It was anyone could talk about. From girls talking about what they’ll wear to the guys discussing who they‘ll as out. Amid all these conversations, one thing on Yui's mind was,” Should I ask someone?’’

All day she has been hearing about the dance from all the second years, they told her how fun the dance is. Everybody dressed in the most exquisite ensembles from designer brands that cost more than the house she lived in. Some people talked about how heavenly the food was. Prepared by the most renowned chefs in the world. Drinks are brewed from the highest quality fruits and alcohol. For the adults of course. Then the music would be played by talented musicians from all over Japan. It sounded like a dream.

Yui only got more and more excited as she heard amazing things about the dance. She was apprehensive before but now, she couldn’t wait for Friday. Be that as it may, there was one thing she wasn’t so sure of yet. She had been hearing from some of the girls about who they were going to ask to go with them. That was something she hadn’t thought about.

“We need to ask someone to go with us? I wonder if anyone would ask me. Probably not, especially with all these beautiful girls here. Who’d ask me? Besides, I’ll be going with the brothers anyway. I bet it would be awkward if I had someone going with me. Although…it would be nice.’’ She had never been asked out before, therefore her father being her partner at a church event didn’t count.

After the bell rang for lunch she decided to head to the library to eat. Even after being at this school for a year now, she still wasn’t used to all those children who were raised so differently from her. She didn’t mind, however, in fact, she did enjoy the time for the small amount of time she got. Gave her time to relax and study without interruptions.

Once she reached the library and found a quiet place to sit. She was finally in her element. Putting her nose in a book, blocking out the world, herself the only one around for miles. It was calming, peaceful, and well worth the bullying she received every time she went home.

That as it may be, the illusion was shattered once Kou decide that she could lose a couple of seconds of what she most desperately needed. “Hey, M-Neko-Chan~ What's up?” “Oh hello, Kou-kun. Not much, just trying to get some quiet.” “Yeah, yeah, that’s nice and all. Anyway, I said something I wanted to ask you.” Yui raised a confused eyebrow at the idol. Did he want to ask her something? Her conscience told her to be weary of his question, while her more optimistic side encourage her to at least consider his request. In the end her optimism over her rationality. Only by a margin though.

“Uh, sure. What is it.” Kou's smile was very big and very unsettling. “ Well, I’m pretty sure your ears have been ringing with everyone talking about the dance on Friday I just wanted to ask..” Kou walked towards her, his face a little close for comfort. “Has anyone asked you to the dance yet or have you asked anyone?” Huh? That’s all? Yui was a bit taken aback by Kou's question. She had thought it would’ve been more….eerie “Uh, no. No one has asked me or I haven’t asked anyone.” Kou's face twisted into an annoyance for a second. Then, into mischievous. ‘’Oh is that so~ Well then I don’t suppose you fancy going with……me!”

What! HIM!? Yui was so taken aback by his statement that she fell out of her chair. Kou roar with laughter as Yui rubbed her bruise backside as she watched Kou lose himself in a loud cackle. She hastily picked herself off the floor while brushing the dirt off her skirt. Looks like her quiet time was completely ruined. Not wanting to waste her time being the butt of Kou's joke, she swiftly grabbed her things and stuff them in her bag. Yui let out a huff as she walked past Kou to the exit of the library. Nonetheless, Kou wouldn’t let her just leave. Instantly he was in front of her. Due to their height difference, there wasn’t any room for escape. “Hey now M-Neko-Chan, I wasn’t done talking to you yet.’’ The once smiley vampire aura turns cold and distant. Yet, possessive.

“You haven’t given me an answer yet. Don’t you think that is kind of rude? Not to mention the fact that you’re trying to leave without even saying a word, I’m disappointed. Honestly who the hell do you think you are huh!?” Despite Kou’s abrasive behavior. Yui stood her ground, albeit anxiously.

“ Kou-kun you were the one who abruptly asked me the question in the first place, so forgive me for being shocked. Also instead of at least helping me off the ground, you just laughed at me the entire time. I thought you were here just to make fun of me, if you have nothing better to do than laugh at me I’ll decide to leave. I’m sorry but my answer is n-“

In a fit of frustration Kou grabbed Yui by the throat and slammed her back to the door with a loud thud. The shock was so great that it knocked the wind out of her. Kou grasped her throat so tightly that air barely was able to enter. Tears floated down her face as she struggled to breathe. With her eyes glazed over with tears, she could hardly see Kou. His face which was normally so handsome and charming was contorted into a violent scowl. His bright were clouded with hatred, those idol-worthy, perfect white teeth gritted against each other in an unbearable ear-piercing screech. The muscles in his hand cracked and popped as his fist squeezed so tingly that blood started to trickle onto the floor.

“ Do you know how hard is to be nice to an oblivious twit like you? You’re so fucking stupid that it’s pain to even talk to you. Millions of girls would love to even get the chance to even breathe the same air as I do. Yet here you are being ungrateful for the gift you’ve been giving. The opportunity to be seen with a start like me, but all you can think about is leaving?! Are you sick in the hand or are you naturally born with no common sense? You’re so lucky right now….but, YOUR DUMBASS CAN’T EVEN SEE IT!!!

Kou squeezed tighter on Yui's neck as he continued to snarl insult after insult at her face without even thinking. Yui struggled to remove his hand from his hands from her neck but was unable to do so. With air becoming more and more scarce, and dark splotches blinding her vision. She has to think fast.

So, with the last bit of strength, she could muster. Yui opened her mouth which was covered in drool from struggling to break free, and bit down on Kou's hand as hard as she could! He howled in pain as blood spurted from his hand! Yui fell to the ground while coughing up a storm as air slowly enter its way back into her lungs. Kou grasped his hand as he glared at Yui with a look of murder in his eyes. “ YOU BITCH! LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE! YOU BIT MY HAND!!” Kou walked towards the blonde ready to intact vengeance for causing him pain. But she was ready. Before Kou could lay a hand on her, Yui grabbed a fountain pen from her pocket and as Kou was nearer, she stabbed the point of the pen in Kou’s wounded hand!

Kou fell back in pain, clutching his hand, giving Yui time to get up and run out of the library. She ran faster than she has ever before! Her body needed time to rest from being near seconds away from deatmh but the adrenaline kept her going. Her only objective was to get away from the vampire that would surely main her if he caught her.

As Yui turned the corner, almost falling in the process, she spotted a tuft of white hair in the distance.

“SUBARU!”

chapter 3 ended.

To be continued…