#he is kinda proud of himself

[nelkcats]

Hood Assistant

Prompt Part 1 Part 4 Part 5 Ao3 Next

Part 6

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The wounded know better how to treat other wounded

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"You guys are really annoying" Crane complained from his Arkham cell, ever since the daybat left him there he had been put in solitary confinement for escaping.

Which he usually wouldn't mind, it was much better to be alone than to hear the Joker's laughs or Waylon's complaints, but the damn cell had a window.

And what was watching him from the window? crows, many of them, after his lamentable defeat he tried to ignore them upon their arrival but it wasn't working.

"Why are you here? Are you making fun of me?" Scarecrow complained with a frown, he really hated birds.

"Kar, Kar, Kar" one of the crows flapped its wings, though it looked a bit apologetic, if birds could show emotions.

"What? Are you trying to apologize or something?" Crane scoffed, not buying the act the crow was showing.

"Kar, Kar" the crow nodded, it almost seemed like they were really sorry for leaving him in such bad shape.

"As if I would believe you" Scarecrow snorted "if you really want to apologize get out of my sight"

Surprisingly that seemed to work because the crows began to disperse. Crane looked at the situation with curiosity, he had spent hours arguing with the creatures and asking them to leave, what was different this time?

And then he saw it, a cat had crashed through the bars of his cell window, it looked pretty small, probably a bit adventurous considering he had pounced on three adult crows at the same time.

"Oh" Scarecrow fixed his gaze on the little cat, he looked quite malnourished, and he was sure he had an infection or two, but technically he had driven the crows away right? He really couldn't be mad about it.

"You're a long way from home, aren't you buddy?" He questioned, the cat looked at him curiously, probably wondering if he should jump at him or not.

It was quite easy to determine the winning option because before he knew it the little kitten had jumped onto the mask on his head.

"What are you doing over there?" Asked the villain, more amused than angry, it was a little worrying that he couldn't feel the weight of the cat on his head.

"The guards are going to be mad if they find you here, you know?" Crane continued speaking, finally reaching the kitten and tucking it into his arms, "you must be an adventurer."

"Meow" the cat meowed, reaching into the seams of the mask and nibbling, it looked like he had found something to play with.

"You're also lonely aren't you?" Scarecrow said, you could hear some fondness in his tone; he glanced around his confinement cell but there didn't seem to be anyone near him, the guards wouldn't be passing by for hours either. In the end, he made up his mind to stroke the cat's fur.

"You need a bath, and probably a vet" he stated checking the little boy, he had a scar over his eye and was obviously neglected, it wasn't a surprise considering he lived in Gotham.

"Do you hate crows too?" He questioned curiously as he watched the cat wagging its tail as it stared out the window, he took the meow as confirmation.

"I guess we have some things in common" Scarecrow allowed himself a smile "I should help find you an owner, you're too young to be here alone."

The cat looked away from the window and fixed on him at the mention of a new caretaker, meowed with determination and placed one of his paws on Crane's mask.

"Me?" The confused villain questioned "I don't think that's a good idea, I work a lot with chemicals and I'm currently stuck here, surely we can find someone better qualified"

The cat didn't seem to like the answer because it meowed again and placed both paws on the man.

"Okay, okay, you're stubborn, if you want me to take care of you I guess we can work something out." Crane sighed, he didn't know if sneaking a kitten into his cell was a good idea, but it can't be helped "I guess strays stick together, don't we?"

Well, he supposed there was nothing he could do, he had acquired a cat.

"We're gonna be great friends, Cannon"

—--------

Amazingly Danny managed to make it through the whole night without waking up from a nightmare. That could have something to do with the warm weight around his waist, or with Nocturn, he wasn't quite sure which.

Though to be completely honest, he refused to thank the pesky dream ghost for anything, their differences might have been sorted out, more or less, but he had the right to continue pissed off for all damn eternity. Who decides that putting an entire city to sleep was a good bonding exercise to meet the new ghost? Literally no one!

"Five more minutes" the halfa muttered when he felt his pillow move. That was weird, Johnny must be bothering him again.

"Ugh, stop," he groaned, touching the bed aggressively in an attempt to stop the annoying ghost, but he frowned when he felt the surface.

"How strange, I don't remember buying such a square pillow, but it is quite comfortable" Danny yawned as he began to open his eyes a little.

"Did I just got demoted to a pillow?" Jason asked with amusement watching as the boy kept touching his chest, probably to settle him on the bed or something. 

"Pillows don't usually complain that much" the halfa complained before opening his eyes fully and noticing the person next to him "WAIT, JAY? WHAT ARE YOU DOING ON MY PILLOW?"

"Take a closer look," Jason told him with a chuckle.

"What am I going to look-" the halfa stopped talking and blushed when he noticed how he was lying on the other's chest "Damn, you're comfortable"

"Is that all you're going to say?" Jason asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I'm not the pillow-shaped one between the two of us," Danny smirked. Although he was having an internal panic; he decided that was going to be a problem for future Danny, one more awake than the current one.

Jason just shook his head feeling amused by the situation, that wasn't what he expected to hear when he woke up.

"So...have you considered working as a professional pillow?" Danny asked, leaning back into Jason's chest.

Honestly Jason was quite surprised by the nerve "I don't think that's a real job, Doll"

"I could make it real, you know." Danny wiggled his eyebrows suggestively with a smile, apparently being half asleep gave him courage to flirt.

"Danny, I'm the one who gives your paycheck" Jason couldn't help but laugh at the face the boy was making "just shut up and let me go, I need to make breakfast"

"But you're sooo soft and waaarm" the halfa complained sadly, actually he just didn't want to let him go, he was sure that the only reason he was calm at that moment was the other's presence.

"Doll, as much as I want to lay here all day you really need a good breakfast" Jason reminded him "don't think I forget about the comment you made to the kids, you're going to leave this house well fed"

“You really don't have to do that" the halfa muttered embarrassed, he really hoped the other would forget that comment quickly.

"No, I will, and since your roommate isn't here to reason with you I feel responsible for doing so," Jason stared at him, daring him to argue, "So you're going to sit here and have the best breakfast of your life, okay?"

"Okay" Danny agreed, he felt a chill down his spine but refused to participate in the strange power play, he could feel the intensity in the other gaze and taking into account his own experiences with Jazz he knew better than to argue with the person preparing his food. Besides, Jason reminded him too much of an Italian matriarch at the moment to argue.

"Still, I really don't feel good enough to let you go right now" the boy muttered worriedly.

"What do you mean by that? You look pretty good to me" He asked curiously, actually he looked too good to have recently come out of a fear gas attack, he was suspicious for a moment but no one could fake such an intense reaction like the day before.

"It's embarrassing" Danny muttered, fixing his gaze on the bedroom window, Gotham had a strangely picturesque architecture "you're going to laugh at me"

"I will laugh at you for many things, but your trauma is not one of them" Jason clarified seriously "you can trust me, Doll"

"Okay then" Danny sucked in as much air as he could and let it out all at once, it was a clear attempt to give himself courage "You are my anchor"

"Your anchor? I don't remember you having a boat," Jason teased as he tried to make sense of the sentence in his head, all he could think of were Percy Jackson lines. He shouldn't have let his brother convince him to read the whole saga, his expectations for romance were too high because of it.

The lines when Percy gets Achilles' curse were really romantic, weren't they? He is certainly not referring to that.

Though something inside him screamed that this was definitely a literature reference he should pay attention to, Jason doubted it, no one had ever said or referenced cute lines to him before and he doubted a pretty boy would start.

"Not that kind of anchor" the halfa turned to see him and smacked his arm annoyed "You are my anchor to reality, when you're around fear fades, like a lucky charm"

"A pillow, an anchor, and now an amulet, you assign me only good things, don't you?" The vigilante sneered, "So, the reason you're so well is…?"

"Yeah, it's because you're close" Danny decided to ignore Jason's comment about how he kept associating him with objects, it wasn't his fault it fit "The gas makes me see a lot of things but when I feel your heartbeat I just- I don't know "

"Relax?" Jason asked softening the expression on his face, he understood the need to want to know that the people you cared about were safe, it was a feeling he related to.

Like the need to know that his family was safe away from him, that the pits hadn't hurt them yet, and wouldn't.

"Quite a lot" Danny nodded "I think my heartbeat is imitating yours or something" he tried to joke.

"My heartbeat?" Jason asked curiously, that's when he noticed Danny's grip on his right arm, one of his fingers resting lightly on his carotid artery.

The place where doctors usually checked the pulse of their patients.

"How long have you been checking?" He asked again with his renewed curiosity, he found it interesting that he hadn't noticed the boy's hand obviously clinging to him when it was obvious that he had been like this for more than a while. Jason was supposed to have been trained by ninjas and Batman himself, how the hell did he miss that?

"Since I woke up, it probably started a bit after that" the halfa admitted sheepishly "I was checking your heartbeat when I lay on your chest, but after pulling away I really needed to be sure, I know it's a little weird, but I really don't want to go back to the world of fear Jay"

The world of fear was much worse than Frighty's dimension because it kept playing with his head, replaying and distorting his own memories until they were destroyed. The fact that Dan didn't appear even once during the flashbacks was worrying. It meant that the fear to his own city and the despair born of how much he had failed far outweighed the fear of himself.

Although he didn't want to cause Jason any unnecessary discomfort, his half-asleep state had taken over his morning actions, the ghost side of him became extremely possessive of the person who had "saved" him, and he needed to make sure that he was fine, alive, breathing.

"So, to clarify: the reason you're so calm right now is because of me? Somehow I make you feel better?" Jason would be lying if he said he wasn't moved by the thought.

"Or at least that's my theory" he said "My head was in a horrible place, I kept reminiscing and trying to suppress things I don't want to think about, until I found you, you became my light Jay"

"You make it sound like a romance novel," Jay tried to tease, he hoped Danny didn't notice his heartbeat rising at the words. It was strange that such a cheesy phrase was out of a book and coming out of the mouth of the cutest boy he had ever seen.

Focus Jason, you're not in a romance novel, this is real life.

Of course, Jason wouldn't deny how warm the thought felt, him, Jason Tood, being a knight in shining armor in a romance novel? It was a scenario he had thought of multiple times when he was a child.

"I would say it's a fantasy novel, although maybe it has multiple genres" the halfa smiled "it's the story of a knight who rescues a person in distress and becomes his safe place"

"I've never been anyone's safe place, I don't know if you're making a good decision with it" Jay said doubtfully.

But how are you supposed to react when the person who is slowly stealing your heart starts talking about you in such a dreamy way? When you can see the stars in his eyes and the blush on his cheeks? And you know that's not for anyone but you?

To a certain extent, it was too much; Red Hood was the protector of Crime Alley, Robin was the protector of Gotham, but Jason? Jason had never been anyone's protector, no one had seen him as if he hung the moon in the sky, no one had trusted him so sincerely.

No one had looked upon him with such affection since his mother's death, not even Bruce. Although, that could be due to how constipated his father was with emotions.

And this guy just decided to go for it? For no reason?

Could the trust be because he was Danny's only choice? A treacherous part of his head wondered. But Danny had trusted him before that, and the reaction looked real.

That worried him, how far was this pretty boy willing to go before he regretted it? What would happen when he realized that trusting Jason Todd wasn't worth it? After all he wasn't just Jason anymore, as much as he sometimes wished he was. Would he run? Will he fear him like everyone else in his life? Dreading the moment when he goes berserk and goes for blood? Or will he choose to stay against all odds?

And the worst part, will Jason be able to bear his decision?

For some reason, Jason hated to think about it. He didn't want to be the one to change the boy's perspective. He didn't want to be the one to turn out the stars in the sky. He didn't want to be the villain.

He was so tired of being cast as the bad guy, the person to blame, he was trying his best, dammit! Why couldn't anyone see it? Why when they saw Red Hood they didn't see little Robin who was his shadow?

"Jason, are you alright?" Danny asked with concern "I know it might be uncomfortable, I can try to fight the toxin on my own if you'd rather I stop touching you"

"No!" Jason's scream startled both of them, neither of them willing to admit how desperate it sounded to both of their ears. One because he did not want to bother and the other because he tried to ignore the event.

"No, it's not necessary" Jason cleared his throat, trying not to think about how bad it felt to tell the boy to go away "You don't make me feel uncomfortable, that's fine, and if it's helping I won't take that away from you."

"If you say so," Danny looked at him doubtfully, but if Jay wasn't willing to admit it then there was nothing he could do.

And that's when Jason realized how desperate he was for affection, how badly he needed someone just brushing his arm. It was surreal how soothing Danny's touch felt in his hand, like putting balm on an old scar.

As much as Dick had tried to fill that void of affection, Jason had sorely refused, the contact feeling strange, uncomfortable, yet welcome. And it wasn't his older brother's fault, the family situation was just awkward since he introduced himself as Red Hood, the pits didn't help either. Now that he technically had an excuse he couldn't bear not to take it and take advantage of the situation a bit.

I'm really touch starved, aren't I?

The vigilante questioned ironically, although without knowing it, Danny was thinking the same thing. Both of them had been deprived of such a basic right that the mere touch of another person felt like a roller coaster ride, better than the mystical "electrical connection" spoken of in romance books. Or the love at first sight that was mentioned in the songs.

Touching and hugging, along with the affection that comes from such actions were basic things that both had been deprived of for so long that their bodies actively sought them out, and now that they both had a valid excuse to initiate contact they had no plans to let go.

"Don't you feel uncomfortable?" Jason asked, in an attempt to return the favor "if you're just doing it to keep yourself away from the effects of the toxin that's fine."

"It's not that, it just feels right, you know?" Danny smiled.

For a few moments they were not Red Hood, nor Phantom, they were simply Jason and Danny, two normal people who sought affection from those around them like dehydrated people finding a spring in the middle of the desert.

"Yeah, I get it," he said, because he really did, though he didn't know if they were talking about the same thing.

"Love, love" sang the little bird in the window while he watched the scene, it seemed that he had liked the word so much that he just repeated it randomly.

"Well, I should go make breakfast for you, shouldn't I, little prince?" The vigilante quipped, if he was the knight then Danny would be the closest thing to a prince in a tower.

"Lead the way, my dear knight" Danny said happily, "we'll finally see your fabulous culinary skills in action."

"You've seen them before, with the soup," Jason scoffed.

"I thought that was more of a community job, but it's true that you were guiding the whole process," Danny hummed.

"Yeah, so ready to try a meal prepared entirely by me? There will be no slicing carrots this time," Jason assured him.

"Excuse me, my carrots had personality, okay?" Danny teased, remembering the moment he showed off his creation.

"I think you murdered their personality after cutting them, it looked like a massacre" the vigilante admitted.

"We can't all be Gordon Ramsay, and you said that they were fine!" The halfa protested offended.

"They were, for a newbie." Jason looked away, pretending he hadn't heard the offended gasp that came from the pretty boy.

"Oh, so this is how we're going to play? Okay, but I'm warning you that I'll check your chef's hat looking for a rat in it" Danny threatened him, if Jason had help ratatouille style he would know it.

"Are you accusing me of cheating? I don't need a chef's hat" Jason replied, a little offended.

"We'll get you one, every professional needs a chef's hat, and a 'kiss the chef' apron" Danny was quick to point out, those were basic elements for a kitchen. 

"That's quite a strong statement you know?" Jason asked, amused.

"It's not that I want to kiss you!" the halfa quickly denied, ignoring the laughter of his boss.

"So I'm not kissable enough huh? too ugly for you?" Jason teased moving closer to him.

"¡No! I'm not saying that either, you're cute, comfortable, you have perfect abs, and I'm absolutely sure you're also an excellent kisser- hell, I wouldn't object to kiss you" the halfa stammered.

"I'm just kidding, Danny." Jason raised his eyebrows with a smirk on his face.

"I completely knew that," Danny tried to assure, sounding as uncertain as he felt.

—-----------

"That class almost killed me" Amorpho complained under his breath as he left advanced physics, he was really going to kill Johnny, he hadn't entered an educational center in years, not counting the time he impersonated Danny.

"I know man, all the theory is too much" one of his classmates commented as he left the room next to him "although I'm surprised you asked so many questions, you're usually more quiet"

"Ah, I needed some guidance this time" Amorpho looked away, it was obvious that Danny was much better than him in that class, considering who his parents were.

"It's ok, we all have bad days" the student shrugged "you can join our study group if you want"

"Really? That would be nice." Even though he wasn't planning on impersonating Danny for so long, he could at least not mess up his grades in the meantime. And well, learning a little more about what was happening right now sounded interesting, even if it was math.

"Sure, by the way, those contacts are totally cool" stated the guy next to him "Where did you buy them?"

"Uh, I ordered them from a place quite far away" Amorpho said uncertainly, he had forgotten that his red eyes didn't fit Danny, that most of his classmates would have taken them as contact lenses was a relief "I don't know if they're still for sale "

"Gezz, that's really bad" the boy sighed "well, our group meets in the evenings, don't get caught by a villain in the meantime! It would be nice to have more people joining"

"I'll be there" Amorpho stated with a smile, if he was going to play student he might make some semblance of friends in the process, or at least entertain himself.

"Speaking of which, do you know where the drama club meets?" The ghost asked curiously after passing by a poster with large colored letters and a 'we are waiting for you!' written in glitter

"Sure, a friend of mine is inside, and you're lucky, our meetings don't really clash with each other, would you like me to guide you?" The boy questioned.

"That would be lovely" the ghost stated, Johnny had technically said that he could do anything, joining two college clubs was on the list.

"Great, I really didn't see you as a theater kid you know?" The boy perked up, apparently interested in the conversation "you always looked a bit sad back there, I thought you didn't like to socialize and that kind of thing"

"Yeah, a few things happened" Amorpho decided to avoid the topic "but I feel better now and I'm ready for some drama"

"That's amazing, dude" the boy smiled offering his hand "I'm Michael by the way, is nice to finally meet you"

"Nice to meet you Michael" Amorpho shook the offered hand "my name is A-Danny"

"A-Danny?" Michael raised an eyebrow.

"I had a change recently" Amorpho shrugged “I'm still trying to get used to it”

"Oh, I understand mate" Michael nodded "that's great and completely understandable, some things need to be changed"

"Well said, I like to morph if it makes me feel better." Amorpho smiled, Michael seemed genuinely nice.

"I couldn't have put it better" Michael stated "now come on, I think drama club sign-ups start in a few minutes"

With that said, the boy and the ghost headed towards the club, one completely excited to finally do what he loved, and the other quite happy with what seemed to be a new friend.

And well, at the end of the day it looked like Danny had joined two new clubs and was fast becoming what seemed to be the best drama student the recruiters had ever found, on his way to being a protagonist; too bad the real Danny had no idea the attention his supposed counterpart was gaining.

—----------

Danny followed Jason into the kitchen, it's not like he could leave him alone while the effects of the gas were in his system anyway. Although he was worried that Jason would notice his fangs, hiding them quickly became uncomfortable and he felt the sudden urge to bite down on something.

"Danny, are you alright?" Jay asked a little worried when he saw the boy distracted again, he gently caressed the hand located on his wrist in an attempt to get the other's attention.

"Yeah, sorry" Danny decided he was going to let things happen naturally "weren't we about to rate your excellent five stars food?"

"I'm surprised you remember," Jason sneered, though he was distracted when he noticed Dog watching him from the living room "I didn't forget about you, girl."

Dog simply barked, debating whether to approach her owner and the stranger who currently seems to be holding his hand. He didn't feel aggressive towards her but something wasn't exactly right either.

"She's so cute" Danny smiled looking at the pitbull peeking out from the living room "Am I scaring her?"

"Something like that, it's a bit weird actually, but I'm not surprised she's hiding" Jason stated, Dog was rescued from a center that organized illegal fights so it wasn't surprising that she was suspicious of strangers, what was strange was that she approached more quickly than expected.

"Oh, maybe she sensed Cujo" the halfa commented nonchalantly.

"Cujo?" Jason raised an eyebrow at the boy.

"Yeah, he's my puppy," Danny smiled, happy to be able to talk about his puppy with someone else. Although calling Cujo a cub was still in doubt, considering that he could change the size of him to suit him.

So, technically Cujo wasn't a cub anymore, given his giant form which made him look much older, but at the time of death he was, and as far as Danny could assume he had never really given up his attitude as a cub. 

Whatever the case, he would always be Danny's pup, and Danny was fine with that. The day Cujo randomly decided to adopt him was one of the best memories he had.

"Oh, I wouldn't have guessed," the vigilante hummed.

"Yeah, I don't usually talk about him much because it's a bit of a reverse adoption case, you know?" Danny smiled "I didn't adopt Cujo, he adopted me and then he wouldn't let me go, he was actually a bit of a stray, I'm not sure why he decided to stay with me"

"You're interesting enough," Jason said happily, he could see why Danny would attract a dog, considering the crow he'd seen last night.

"By the way, where's your crow?" Jason questioned as he went over to give Dog some food, she was wagging her tail excitedly, completely ignoring Danny who had stuck to him like a barnacle.

"Poe? He is not technically my crow" Danny sighed "My roommate found him yesterday and he just started following me."

"That's amazing, he seemed pretty attached to you." Jason raised an eyebrow doubtfully.

"But he is not mine, I'm sure he decided I'm not interesting enough anymore or something, you won't see him anytime soon" the halfa shrugged.

At that precise moment, a small crow flew into the room and happily landed on Danny's head, the halfa in question looked at him with a blank expression.

"You really love to contradict me" he affirmed seeing the small bird singing on his head.

"Oh look, looks like it wasn't such a long time after all" Jason snorted, Dog seemed to have decided to ignore the situation in question as she quickly ate what her handler had given her.

"Love! Love!" The crow affirmed moving his wings, he really loved the sound of the word.

"No, Poe, Danny, my name is Danny," the halfa tried to correct him, ignoring the stare Jason was giving him.

"Twinkcito!"  Poe corrected his supposed mistake, although it was obvious that he was making fun of the boy, he was smart enough to understand the reactions that his words caused and repeat them based on it.

"I give up" Danny muttered in frustration.

"He's not wrong" Jason said considering, "you really do have the complexion for it"

"Please don't encourage him" Danny begged.

"I'm not encouraging him, I'm just saying that if we take into account your complexion and the definition of the word, it just fits." Jason shrugged.

"Just go make the food already" Danny gave up on trying to reason with him, it was better to remind him of what he was supposed to be doing to distract him from the subject.

"Fine, fine, but since my hands are still trapped you're going to have to be my helper," Jason stated, heading into the kitchen.

"I don't know if you remember correctly Jay, but I made a massacre with the potatoes and carrots last time" the halfa said, a bit embarrassed.

"Of course I remember" that had been one of the most adorable expressions he had ever seen "But at that moment I had to guide everyone, now all my attention is on you"

Danny was suddenly nervous about having Jason's attention on him, he'd been tremendously proud to pull off an edible meal last time but he was afraid he wouldn't be able to pull it off again.

"There's no need to be nervous, Doll" Jason assured him "I'll walk you through every step of the way, okay?"

"Okay, I can do it" Danny said out loud, in an attempt to give himself courage, it seemed that he really needed it that day.

"Kar, Kar!" Poe flapped his wings happily from his place on the boy's head.

"Thanks, Buddy." Danny smiled at the crow who had apparently decided to stick to him like a duckling.

"Well, I guess we also have to make sure your partner doesn't eat the ingredients" Jason muttered, looking at the crow.

Poe for his part yelled "Kar" at him, sounding completely offended, Jason simply conceded defeat, doubting they'd be able to get rid of him anytime soon.

"Well, are you ready to try the best meal of your life that definitely isn't made by a french rat?" Jason asked smiling.

"Yes, although I'm still doubting that you don't have one hidden in your hair, I think you have enough space" The halfa shrugged.

"Oh shut up and combine the ingredients I'm going to tell you, you're on duty to mix the batter and I'm going to make sure you taste some good pancakes today" Jason said.

"Mix? Aren't you going to use the batter on the box?" Danny asked curiously, the times Jazz had cooked for him she had used pre-made things, probably because it was easier.

"Of course not, you're going to have a real pancake experience, not whatever you've been eating up until now," Jason stated, although the boxed food tasted ok it was nowhere near the real thing made from scratch.

Jason didn't know it when he was a kid because Catherine didn't have the money for it, but most of his meals were simple, quick, or easy to prepare, he was mostly grateful to have something to eat if he was being honest.

But when Alfred patiently showed him how to cook, he began to enjoy it, to understand the difference between the two types of food and to enjoy the feeling of others tasting his creations, to the point that he ended up becoming an expert at it. He was tremendously proud to be one of the few who wasn't banned from the kitchen in the mansion.

He was glad to be the person to teach Danny that difference, when he saw the proud expression the boy was making for preparing something fairly edible he didn't think much of it at first sight, considering it mostly adorable.

But after thinking about it for a while he realized that maybe Danny just didn't know what it was like to cook your own food, that he'd had a time only eating fast or easy food, that no one had ever given him a full meal.

Jazz tried, but she didn't really know how to cook either, Maddie hadn't taught her. She tried with online tutorials but in the end she ended up mostly with fast or simple food for both of them.

Honestly, the conversation with the Alley Kids just confirmed his suspicions, usually people who eat well don't forget from one moment to another that they should eat, unless they're not really used to it.

So he was quite happy to say that Danny was a good helper in the kitchen, checking him every five minutes for a sign if he was doing it right or wrong, asking if he had any questions about anything in the process, and not afraid to ask for help.

"Jay, I don't know if I can do this" the boy in question complained looking at some strawberries that Jason had asked him to cut a few minutes ago.

"Do you want me to guide you on it?" Jason questioned happily, he always felt better while cooking.

"Can you do that? Wouldn't that be too much of a problem, all things considered?" Danny asked curiously, pointing to their hands that were still clasped.

"Not really" he said "but it can be a bit uncomfortable in this position"

Since Jason had managed to switch the "affected hand" from right to left when starting to cook (checking that Danny hadn't had any problems, of course) the process had been much easier.

Well, thankfully neither of them was doing badly working with their hands trapped, so he was easily able to point Danny to the correct method of cutting through the fruit without massacring it. Although the boy seemed very distracted during the process.

"The pancakes will be ready in a few minutes, I'd tell you to go sit in the dining room but, you know," Jason vaguely gestured at their connected hands.

"Don't worry, I don't mind waiting" the halfa told him nonchalantly, watching Jason cook was becoming one of his favorite activities after all. He gave off a completely different feeling than usual, he looked more relaxed and happy in general.

When they were finally able to move to the dining room table, each one of them had a plate of pancakes, Danny decorated them with strawberries and whipped cream while Jason settled with a simpler version of fruit and honey.

"Well? Are you going to try it?" Jason asked curiously and somewhat expectantly as he noticed Danny staring at his plate.

"It's just that they look so cute, I don't want to destroy them" Danny looked at Jason sadly, eating them felt like a crime.

"I'll make you others later" Jason shook his head in amusement "but you have to eat those first"

Eventually Danny worked up the courage to eat his pancakes. Jason freaked out the moment he saw his eyes watering.

"They're good" Danny made sure to affirm quickly wiping away the tears that were forming in his eyes after he saw how much he was worrying Jason, who seemed torn between paying attention and looking for ways to comfort him "very, very good"

It reminded him of the time Jazz made him his first meal, or when Lunch Lady scolded him and gave him a homemade sandwich, but somehow this felt better than both times.

How was it possible?

"It's okay, Danny," Jason gently stroked the hand that had returned to hold his arm as soon as they left the kitchen, "you're okay now."

Whether he was referring to the food or something completely different, no one could tell.

—------------

By the time they both finished their food, Danny was happily satisfied and strangely full. The moment he looked away from his plate he noticed something peculiar inside one of the rooms.

He approached the object curiously, practically dragging Jason with him into the room in question.

"Isn't that Red Hood's jacket?" Danny asked curiously looking at the clothes organized on the walls.

Jason cursed himself as he thought of something to say, maybe if he chose not to answer Danny would ignore it. He had been distracted by the matter of food and completely forgot that many of his things were in the house.

"And those are his combat boots" the halfa said excitedly, Danny perked up as he started pointing to different objects in the room. The weapons were obviously Hood's "There's only one explanation for this"

Jason tried to think of an excuse but he couldn't think of one, he assumed that was it, that was the end of his secret identity "Danny, the truth is that I am-"

"You live with Red Hood right?" Danny looked at him, trying to confirm his suspicions and the rumors of the Alley kids. 

"-living with Hood, certainly," Jason agreed. Not knowing the trouble he was getting himself into with those four words.

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

Annd tag time, I'm not going to lie it feels pretty weird to have this chapter so early but the sprints are really magical. This chapter was going to be even longer but I preferred to shorten it and include the rest as ideas for the next one. I hope you liked it!

In this case I have to clarify that Danny never broke contact with Jason during the whole chapter, when he said that he was his anchor he was being both figurative and literal. In general, being able to feel his heartbeat was calming him down a lot.

And the reason why Jason's food felt different is because it was 100% human, what Lunch Lady gives is usually fine, but the ectoplasm adds something weird to it as an extra, so yes, Jason was technically the first to cook him food from scratch

Sorry if you saw the first one, I kinda uploaded by accident haha

@skulld3mort-1fan@sorryiwonnoob@idfk-man10@avelnfear@criticaloverthinker@confusedandghostly @lunadoll36 @spidey29phangirl @suppengott @yjfk@apointlessbox@mimilikey@thegatorsgoose@jaggedheart11@dyinggirldied@pyramaniac@akikkobara@thedragonqueen1998@lostlightandfoundcrazy@xye-chan@saltyladynightmare @ashleysmshly @thewondersoflebanon@illusionwolfwriter24r8@littlefeather345@asphyxia778@amercurio@leftmiraclechaos @dixiwoods @satoshy12@lyra689@meira-3919@quietlyscared@plotwholls @kyrianclawraith @blacksea21090@basilf1res @flowers-n-fauna @8-29pm@phantom-dc@luer-mirin@taniaundertaleau@cloriform@readerkayden@oddlydrawnpuppets@basementloser@little-green-asparagus@echoednonny@yummy-yummy-mmmbones@confusionchaos@ectoplasm024@autumnwulf@666deaddash999@redhoneysugarorange@blue-avis@sailor-goddess@satanicrutialspecialist

[m4g0hun]

lost child

[demaparbat-hp]

On your most recent From the Couch post... is that a dragon tattoo I see poking out of Zuko's collar? ...................may we see more of it?

You may see all of it.

[98chao]

me: im gonna take a break from drawing today!

also me: DRAW THESE BITCHES AS PONIES

ive literally never drawn mlp art a day in my life. What is wrong with me

[starry-bi-sky]

my body's aching like a knock-down drag-out

and my poor heart is an open wound A Childhood Friends Au snippet that very briefly delves into Danny's life post-accident. CW: Mild Mentions of Blood, Violence, VERY mild gore ig. Danny briefly recalls getting impaled during a fight.

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

What they don't tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it can hurt. That it can hurt more than when you were alive. That when you die, the emotions you die with stick with you like a leech that just won't let go. That emotions are ugly little thorns that stick their barbs into you and grow beneath your skin; or, at least, whatever’s left of it. 

Danny is familiar with anger. It kept him warm in Gotham, when his parents weren't home from work and he and Jason were crowding Crime Alley with their presence. It kept him warm in Amity, when the fresh sting of moving was still needling into his heart and he wanted nothing more than to rip and tear into the closest person next to him.

He's familiar with violence. With fights. With death. He's seen people die in Crime Alley probably every day. From overdose, from gunshots, from stab wounds; anything that can kill, rest assured he's seen it. He's familiar with getting his own knuckles rough and bloody when other kids turn and bare their teeth at him and Jason; they're all just starving dogs stuck in a fighting pit, primed and ready to rip out each other's throats. 

Black eyes, stomped hands, bloody noses. You name it; he’s had it. Gotham is paved with the blood of her children, and Danny likes to imagine that when he was born, the doctors handed his mother a file and told her; “Take it. He’s going to need it for his teeth.” 

Danny’s mom (and dad, for that matter) was too busy trying to keep him and Jazz fed, so Danny stole the file from her drawer with Jazz’s help, and did it himself.  

He’s familiar with anger, he thought he was getting better at it these days. It doesn’t come to him as easily as it did before. Of course, that was before Jason died. 

Danny is less familiar with grief. Caring kills and Gotham kills the caring, so Danny cares very little about other people. Or he tries to. But grief hurts. His grief hurts. It hurts too much. It hurts like a bug trying to crawl out of his chest; like a rat chewing a hole through his heart. Some days he wants to dig his hands into his hair and split himself down the middle. Some days he just wants to scream. 

He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead. 

He wants the whole city to hear him wailing, some days. It sticks itself in the back of his throat like bile, and Danny is one wrong retch away from letting it loose. It sticks in his lungs like all the tar he’s smoked in since he was nine. It pushes and aches at his temples, in his head, like his brain is trying to swell out of his skull. His thoughts becoming so loud they threaten to commandeer his tongue.  

He has no mouth, but he must scream. 

Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it hurts more than when you were alive. Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it’s violent. That it’s bloody. Or as bloody as it can be when everyone has no blood. 

Another thing they don’t tell you about being dead, is that it’s a lot like Gotham that way.

With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies forget death itself. Blood comes easy, like water, and teeth are encouraged. Bring your own fangs to the fight. Dying is something you can just walk off. 

Danny’s been dead for three months. He can’t say he’s been walking it off easy. He’s perfected the art of turning his nails into claws since his heart was still beating, but he can’t say he’s perfected fighting other ghosts. 

Scrappy is just not enough. 

He feels like he’s back in Gotham again. Back in her death-shroud alleyways, fighting someone bigger than him. But there’s no Jason to watch his back, and Danny has to get himself out of there alone. Or he might just not get up at all. 

Black eyes, busted lips. It’s familiar to him like an old scent, Danny isn’t quite sure that he’s missed it. It’s more familiar than his fights with Dash. 

But there’s no one else who can do it but him. Not Sam, not Tucker. He can’t lose them too. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. His heart can’t take another break, he already feels like he’s going insane. 

With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies fight like death themself. He learns why when Technus puts a street sign through his stomach one day. It pins him to the asphalt like a moth pinned by its wings. 

Danny claws at the metal like how an animal caught in a trap chews off its leg, and every move is blinding pain. He thinks he was howling, but it’s hard to tell. He couldn’t recognize the sound of his voice. 

He bleeds green. It mixes in black with the pitch blackhole in his heart, which throbs and twists and cries in time with his reckless panic. The finger-choking terror of dying again strangles out the air he doesn’t need. His blood evaporates, only to reabsorb into him. It just bleeds out again, cycling like a snake eating its own tail. 

Danny breaks his nails clawing at the metal, and eventually gets it in his mind to pull it out. So he does, and the end drips ectoplasm green as he gets to his feet. In red-vision, Danny sends the sign back with snarling, vicious fervor. The pain is irrelevant in his rage.

Only after the fight does the hole the pole left start to close. Danny doesn’t shift human until it’s gone. Unlike other injuries, a scar stays behind. Ugly; mottled, it aches for a week with every twist and stretch his body makes. He hates it. 

Being dead is agony. 

Every part of him is in pain. Every step, every word he speaks, everything he does, it is prerequisite with pain. The body is temporary, but the soul is forever, and death has carved into it with its freezing green hands and left him with never-ending heartache. It has torn from him and stolen what of him it could, and in return it’s left him with sorrow. 

His pain is his grief, and he’s sobbed in the safety of his room more times than he can count. It’s still as fresh as the day he heard the news of Jason’s death. He knows, instinctively, that it will stay fresh forever. 

In his room, Danny shoves his hands over his mouth and shrieks in whatever, muffled way he can into his pillow. It’s not enough. It’s never enough. He needs to be louder. He needs to be heard. He refuses to be. 

Being dead hurts. 

[ryllen]

heated machine whirring noise

[sleepy-edits]

[somegrumpynerd]

Killer goes stage 3 when Nightmare isn't around, so the boys have to contain and calm him down themselves. Luckily they know what they're doing and make a good team, so nobody gets hurt.

And, because I can't make anything serious, bonus from the next day:

[insertsomthinawesome]

@priellan COME GET THE BOY!!! ✨

Some different ideas for how that could go down >:D And me picking something personally self indulgent again asdlfjsdLJSDGLDSJG I wanna see him with a Tangled rapunzel length hair braid... it would be so pretty...

[ruvviks]

club bodytalk's latest addition! his name is ulysses and he used to (unwillingly) work for maxtac with reid for many many years but now he's free and on a path of self discovery (figuring out he's bisexual as fuck)

taglist (opt in/out)

@velocitic, @deadrlngers, @euryalex, @ordinarymaine, @gurathins;

@mojaves, @shellibisshe, @dickytwister, @mnwlk, @rindemption;

@ncytiri, @calenhads, @noirapocalypto, @florbelles, @radioactiveshitstorm;

@strafethesesinners, @fashionablyfyrdraaca, @aemondtargeryen, @radioactive-synth, @katsigian;

@estevnys, @elgaravel, @aezyrraeshh, @carlosoliveiraa

[butchsophiewalten]

Thought I had posted about this already whups. Martin made a really important twitter thread earlier:

[emry-stars-art]

Hello! I just wanted to say your art is gorgeous and I love the attention to detail you give to your work! This royal au is scrumptious and I'm so grateful you shared it with us! Second, for Jean's role, I was wondering what you thought about making him a blacksmith? It would make him useful for Riko without having any power (not a guard, etc.)but also give a reason for Jeremy to seek him out (and get swept off his feet), perhaps once he's escaped and is in Palmetto. Feel free to ignore tho!😊

IGNORE THE MENTAL IMAGE OF BIG POWERFUL BLACKSMITH JEAN MOREAU? SAFE IN THE UNNAMED TROJAN KINGDOM, BULKING UP AND FEELING ACCOMPLISHED WITH THE WORK OF HIS HANDS??? I WILL NOT

I’ve been really invested in the idea of the “perfect court” now that we’re in a royal au, and since Kevin and Riko were both technically royalty, Nathaniel was/had the potential to be a noble, I think Jean should also be high end?? Like while at Evermore they all have different duties right, maybe Jean was an attendant to Riko or something. Whatever he was there, we know he wasn’t treated well. Probably not allowed to pursue his own interests, just like everyone else.

But Kevin and Nathaniel both escape, and they find new jobs that fulfill them. So Jean should as well!! He gets to the Trojan kingdom, probably with the help of Renee still (which is. A whole thing about politics and family lines in this au strangely enough) and he doesn’t have to be a noble anymore if he doesn’t want to. He’s probably already renounced his nobility in the way he left Evermore. I don’t doubt Jeremy, who I’m imagining as another prince because that’s the image my brain gave me, would hesitate to reinstate him as Trojan nobility if Jean asked (as long as it’s far enough down the timeline obviously). Instead, Jean kind of slides under the radar, and once he’s all settled he finds work in the smithy. And he really enjoys it! He feels stronger and healthier and he gets to make such amazing things, he doesn’t even have to make weapons if he doesn’t want to. The workers all choose their own specialties and jobs, filling in gaps as needed

Then one day the royal family or the prince is making rounds, coming to see how things are running, and Jeremy is kind of wondering if he’s seen this blacksmith before? Like he’s pretty sure that’s a familiar face, but he definitely would have remembered seeing someone like him around the kingdom before now, so he brushes it off.

(Really he’s seen Jean Moreau at summits and other large gatherings, only once or twice. Back when Jean was much less healthy and when he still tried to make himself smaller to fit into Riko’s shadow. So yes he recognizes the face; but this is a much different man than the person he saw across grand halls.)

And for my lovely jerejean enjoyers: if Jean ends up talking to or in close proximity of the prince, for whatever reason? Jeremy can definitely blame his red cheeks on the heat of the forges 💫

Sliding a couple process pics under the cut

(Find the royal au writing masterpost here ��)

[holey-sweater15]

How do you think Oscar Wilde would feel knowing people have made explicit fanfiction of the story that he got put in jail for aren't getting arrested?

[ossy-serenity]

Strings of Fate

"It amused her to bind him with the same spell she uses to control her rock creatures."

In a charmed, twisted way, Hope seemingly made him forget all the suffering he had endured for so many years.

His incapacity to be strong enough to protect those he loved, all the mental struggles he's gone through,

himself all together

[nicoscheer]

01/03/2024

Lisbon, Portugal

Lisboa Ao Vivo

He just had to 😭😭 standing next to me

X

X

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Oh his joy during come closer

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[sluckythewizard]

BUT IM NOT A WRITER. something strange possessed me to write my first proper fanfic in maybe a decade. be niceys to me but also grill me so i can get stronger. this one is a stupidly self indulgent bit between Soda and Emizel, a day or so after emizel was sired. CW for gore descriptions, but thats about it i think. image below is a snippet of the start. the rest of the whole dang thing will be under the cut. ive never posted fanfic ever in my life. read my tags for secret behind da scenes commentary

"Oh shit… I think hes dead…" It was another night, another patrol, another fight, and another win, for Emizel and Soda.

Under moonlight, under street light, under interwoven wires above, the two stood here in a quiet and damp alleyway. The air was drenched with the smell of a previous rain, and the puddles of said storm remain huddled in corners and pot holes.

One splashed as soda found himself stepping forwards into one. The residual adrenaline of the fight had left his body shaking, his heart still pounding, his wounds still throbbing. They had still won; or more-so, Emizel had won. A particularly nasty blow to the side had Soda reduced to the side lines for most of the fight, left to watch as his newly vampiric comrade had absolutely eviscerated the competition.

Emizel had only been turned a day ago, but it was impossible not to notice how it had changed him. He already acted so goddamn confident, so on top of the world, and this newfound power, newfound speed and strength, only built upon his insane ego.

The Fangs that they encountered here on this night stood no fucking chance. Emizel was too quick, too strong, and he easily chased off the rivals. It was only now, as the final unfortunate opponent had turned to flee, a clean clock in the jaw sent the human tumbling to the ground with a dull thump, and it did not move afterward.

Soda shifts his shoe out of the puddle, the cold seeping into his sock being one of the few things keeping his mind in his body in the moment. Is the guy breathing?

A low laugh bleeds from Emizel as he stretches his arms, licking his sharpened teeth as he stares off in the direction the remaining Fangs went. Soda knew that look on his face, the look of a tiger pondering on its next kill, he knew well that Emizel wanted to chase them.

But the guy on the ground.. It was one punch to the face, and the wicked crack sound that came from it had planted a seeding dread within Sodas chest.

As he steps forward, around the puddle, the resulting sound made Emizels attention click back over to Soda, the snap of his gaze making Soda flinch.

The two lock eyes, and Soda weakly gestures to the limp body on the floor. "The uh.. I think.. Is that guy dead?" He finally asks, having a hard time keeping contact with Emizels intensely red eyes.

Emizel turns his attention to said body, tilting his head as he goes to kick at the thing, turning it over. "Man no way hes dead, I punched him once." He mutters.

"Well, yeah, but his head almost twisted all the way around when you did.." Soda steps up to stand beside Emizel, the two boys standing with their hands in their pockets, down at this unfortunate, limp body.

"Should we hide it?" Soda asks, glancing back over at Emizel, who had.. An odd look on his face. He was clearly pondering something, but Soda could only guess whatever was going on in that brilliant head of his. He knew and trusted that Emizel was smart. If anyone could figure out what to do about this, it would be him.

But the lack of an answer had anxiety chewing at the back of Sodas rib cage, and after a second, he speaks up again, compelled to fill what he perceived as a tense silence. "Like.. I dunno, I've never uh... killed a guy..." He shrugs, prompting Emizel to let out a big sigh.

"He's not dead man, just out fuckin cold." Emizel kneels down next to the body, putting an ear up to its chest, and pondering on that for a moment. An uncertainty twists his expression, as he decides to instead place a hand on the victims throat, checking for a pulse. A moment passes, and seemingly finding nothing, he pulls back.

"Uh... Okay, so he might be dead."

Something about the confirmation from Emizel made a shiver run up Sodas spine. That, or maybe it was just the breeze agitating the cold water in his shoe.

"Huh… Damn.." Was all that Soda could really get to leave his mouth. Which was hardly a splash compared to the torrent that was slowly churning in his head. They just killed a guy. Or, Emizel just killed a guy. And it was so easy. They had to hide the body now, right? That was the usual progression here? Getting caught for murder was way more extreme than getting caught for breaking mailboxes with soda cans. It was so, so disturbingly easy. It really was just one punch. It's not like the Fangs are weak by any means, so just one punch? And this guy is dead? Forever?

Or, perhaps by human means, their rivals were fairly tough. But Emizel was on a whole other level. No mortal could stand up to him now...

"Hey, are you okay?"

The question had pulled Soda back from his head, his gaze flicking back over to Emizel, who was looking up at him with those eerie, piercing red eyes. Soda felt another shiver.

"Uh, ieah man, I'm all good." Soda nods, swallowing down whatever anxiety was bubbling up in his throat.

But Emizel didn't seem satisfied by his answer, standing back up and staring down his human comrade. Soda couldn't meet his eyes, his gaze instead traveling downward, and pausing on Emizels red, cut-up shirt. There was something off about the color, the way it seemed darker in some spots, brighter in others.. Wait, wasn't Emizel wearing a white shirt before all this?

The vampire boy seems to pick up on Sodas expression, following his eyes down to his shirt. "Oh, yeah! While you were on the floor, the knife guy got me a little" He says, a stupidly simple smile on his face. Soda was about to let out a laugh at how unbothered his friend seemed by it, but it gets caught in his throat when Emizel goes to pull his shirt up.

The sound of the bloodied fabric peeling away from skin made Sodas own skin crawl, but that wasn't nearly as bad as the sight of the intense gash running from his collar bone, down to his stomach.

"Oh, fuck dude!" Soda gasps, but Emizel laughs it off. Even despite knowing Emizel well, Soda was still surprised by just how much Emizel could shrug off. "Shit, doesn't that hurt, dude?"

"Oh yeah this fucking hurts!" he says with a laugh, his smile big and toothy and proud as he presents this egregious wound. Swollen and angry, pulsing with a slow heartbeat, and still oozing with thick, dark blood.

The sight of the split flesh, and the glints of bone beneath the dark, dark red all tugged at Sodas gag reflex, and yet he couldn't pull his eyes away. So Emizel's just been walking and talking so normally this whole time with his chest just cleaved wide open? Soda felt just as impressed as he felt horrified.

It wasn't until Emizel reaches down to poke at the abhorrent wound that Soda snaps out of it. Watching his friend press his fingers into the bloodied flesh, and slowly pulling it apart, allowing more ichor to seep from the gash, it was too much to watch at this point.

Soda reaches up to put a hand on Emizels wrist, the vampire boy stopping, and looking up at his friend.

Soda found himself freezing again when he locks eyes with Emizel. He was going to say something now, right? "U-uhm.." Is all he really chokes out, giving Emizels wrist a gentle tug. "D-do you. Uh. I suppose a hospital Isn't a place you can go anymore..?"

Emizel just smirks at that, letting Soda pull his hand away from the wound. "Oh, yeah no, but it's fine. I mean, I don't think it's gonna kill me" He shrugs. It was so, so impressive just how unphased Emizel was by all this. Fuck he's actually so cool.

"Well yeah man but it's like, still a bleeding hole. Like you're soaked in blood dude, I'm pretty sure that even a vampire needs that stuff on like, the inside." Soda rubs the back of his head, still unnerved by the sight of it all. "Vampires have like, super healing, don't they?"

"Oh yeah like, regeneration powers. I know I heal faster sometimes but I dunno how to just, activate it on command.." Emizel hums, his eyes narrowing down at his own injury, as if trying to will it into mending. Soda looks away, unable to watch that vile gash ooze any longer.

"I dunno man, how do they do it in like, video games?" Soda tosses the question out, trying to click together some sort of solution in his own head.

"Uhhh.. Huh, video games.." Emizel repeats to himself, chewing on the thought while idly poking at the laceration; until an idea audibly flickers to life in his head. "Oh, I just gotta refill my blood meter. Or whatever."

"Oooh yeah, blood meter!" Soda perks up, "Of course, see this is why you're the brains, man" Soda smiles, glancing back over to his cool friend, but immediately needing to look away again when the sight of that egregious gash tugs bile back into his throat.

While Soda averts his eyes, Emizels eyes wander back over to the body, and that classic 'Emizel has a bad idea' smile creeps across his face.

"Well, if this guys dead, I'm sure he's not gonna need all that blood.." He grins, kneeling down next to the body again.

The word 'wait' had hardly gotten the chance to crawl from Sodas mouth, before Emizel lifts up the arm of the unfortunate body, pulling the sleeve back, and immediately sinking his teeth into the exposed wrist.

The sound and the sight of blood gushing around Emizels teeth made Soda cringe, his hand impulsively coming up to aide his own wrist. An empathetic phantom pain made his wrist ache, his imagination simulating the feeling of shark teeth cutting into skin, sinking deep into the flesh, and clacking against bone. That was a lot of blood, that was streaming down the arm of this fodder.

A low growl bleeds from Emizel as he adjusts his teeth, cutting into more flesh, opening the wound further, and allowing a pulsing torrent of red to stream down his chin, onto his coat. It was an annoying thing, to clean blood out of clothing. Most of the Demons deemed it easier to just let the stains remain. But the night that Emizels throat was torn open, and liters upon liters were granted freedom from his human form, the unbelievable mess had practically changed half the color of Emizels iconic coat.

That was the first time Soda had ever seen that much blood from one person. And well. This would probably be the second.

The sight was unnerving, but it was impossible to look away. The alley was quiet, save for the distant bustle of a distant city, which made the noisy squish and squelch of teeth gnawing on flesh all the more apparent and nauseating.

Emizel had become a monster for sure, and watching it feed on something was… thrilling, in a way. It reminded Soda of feeding a pet spider, or lizard. A mouse for a snake.

It's a heavy thing to witness, the end of a human life. The fear of death is a primal thing, and Soda was no different from any other living thing. He figured everyone else feared death just as much as he does. Well, maybe except for Emizel, of course.

It made sense. Emizel was such a cocky and noisy kind of guy, but hes always had the power to back it up. Even when he lost, or seemed at his lowest, Soda still saw this sort of fire in him, one that Soda admired.

Of course Emizel would be the one to become something like a vampire. Something that Soda had always figured was just a fantasy creature thing. He wondered; if vampires were real, what else was real? Werewolves? Zombies? Unicorns? Are there real demons? Like from hell? Is hell real? Is he going to hell?

The sudden ttteeeeaaaaarrrr of flesh rips soda from his wandering thoughts. Emizel was tugging his head away from the arm of his kill, his teeth clamped down into the chewed meat, and pulling it apart. Soda had seldom seen so much of the inside of a human arm, and the sight of spilling threads and squirming veins was hardly something he ever wanted to stomach again.

"Oh fuck, dude, hey-" Soda steps forward, raising a hand, but the way Emizel snaps his head back over to him, twisting to an unnatural degree, Soda cant help jolting back.

Reddened teeth glint menacingly in the low light, a threatening growl thundering from its clenched, dripping jaws. Emizels eyes were focused, yet wild, glowing with whatever light they could reflect.

Sodas eyes were wide, and his body was frozen in the thick, electric tension within the air. It was like staring down an angry dog.. Suddenly a light bulb in his head flickers to life. It was kind of like an angry dog, right? One hunched over a meal it didn't want to give up. Memories of old encounters and unfortunate dog bites resurface in Sodas head, and with that experience, and with those lessons learned, he gathers the courage to react.

He shuts his eyes, keeping them closed for a few seconds, as he slowly pulls back his arm, and slowly steps back. It was an eye contact thing, wasn't it? Eye contact makes dogs angry, right? That was how you dealt with an angry dog? As he pulls back, and takes in a breath for composure, he finally dares to peek at the angry vampire before him again.

Its snarling had died down, but its eyes were still trained intently on Soda. After a tense, and agonizingly, slow pause... It blinks back, lowering its head back down to its meal, but keeping its anxious stare on this potential threat.

A relieved sigh falls from soda as the tension finally melts. He didnt realize he was holding in so much of his breath. "O-okay, man.. It's yours, you uh.. Earned it.." Soda mutters, stepping back further, until he was standing in a sufficiently dry enough space to sit down in. Now that he wasn't standing, he was finally taking into mind just how much his hands were shaking.

It's odd. Soda couldn't really describe this feeling thrumming in his chest as something like fear.. Nausea? For sure. Disturbed and rattled? Oh absolutely. This was certainly a sight he would have a hard time scrubbing from his eyelids when he sleeps tonight. But he wasn't scared. The memory of the night that Emizel was sired still coated the inside of his mind like an unwashable film. Even in that moment, when the unnatural teeth from the unnatural maw of an unnatural thing hovered over his throat, he couldn't say with confidence that he was scared.

Emizel really is his best friend in the world. And he knows with his whole heart that Emizel feels the same. He knew and trusted that his best friend would never hurt him. Not too badly at least. He loves Emizel, and would give anything to support him.

Like a mouse to a snake.

This really is an incredible power that his comrade had come across, and Soda especially felt a sort of pride in his friend. He felt it was worth it to help him feed it.

The bile in his throat had made its point, and Soda agreed, that watching someone die, and get torn apart and drained might be too much for him. Despite how much he hated the Fangs, the end of any human life seemed like such a jarring thing. To have such an intense fear finally get confronted. Would he go to hell?

Maybe he couldn't just feed people to his friend. So an alternative could be donated blood, right? Soda wouldn't mind giving up something like blood. His body makes it for free, after all. Maybe some other Demons would agree to give up some blood too. But they shouldn't have to take on such a burden. Soda wouldn't mind being the only one. The only one. The only one.

His hand comes up to rub at his neck, as his imagination conjures up what it might feel like to have teeth sink into his flesh. He's been stabbed before, is that sort of what it would feel like? Would he have to get stitches? He didn't really want to get stitches, so maybe there could be a more effective way to get the blood out of him. And there was so much vital stuff in his neck too. There's' a vein that's safe to cut into somewhere, right? He would have to look that up later.

A STARTLING RINGING;

Splits the moment,

Prompting both Soda and Emizel to jolt in shock,

As the phone in Emizels pocket rings away.

Acting as if nothing abnormal had taken place, Emizel pulls out his phone, and answers it.

"Heyy, Johnny! Yeah we chased em off, I don't think those bastards will be infesting this street again anytime soon. Yeah, ieah we'll be heading back soon. Oh fuck yeah dude, save us some!"

Emizel covers the speaker of his Nokia, turning back to Soda with a big smile on his violently bloodied face. "They got some pizza waiting for us back home, dude!" he whispers out to him.

Soda does his best to crack a smile, and to suppress the look of unease that probably stained his face, as he stares at the literal murder scene that's been splattered about in front of him.

"Oh, yeah, hell yeah man.." He swallows down the bile again. "What kind of uh.. Soda did they get?"

Emizel ponders that, before turning back to the phone to ask Sodas question.

"Sprite and a big pack of that one strawberry mountain dew" Emizel tosses the answer back over to Soda, who gives a nod, and thumbs up.

Mountain dew is so neat, Soda really liked all the wacky flavors those guys come up with. The thought of going home and opening a can of soda was certainly a comfort. After witnessing all this blood and gore and viscera, Soda absolutely needed to get back home and get a nice cold glass of something bright red .

As Sodas mind wanders off to soda, Emizel wraps up the conversation on the phone, before hanging up, and standing up.

The movement had pulled Sodas mind back into the moment, enough for him to timidly voice a concern he's had since the start of this debacle.

"Uh, hey, so.. The body, should we… Uh.." He gestures vaguely to it, and Emizel grants it a nonchalant glance.

"Eh, I can toss it into a dumpster or something, I dunno. I'm sure its fine. I'll handle it."

The vampire boy goes to pick up the corpse, the wound in its mangled arm no longer even dripping with blood, the flesh pale from the absolute absence of red in its veins.

"Go ahead and meet me by that one mailbox, the one with the bullet hole in it." Emizel casually instructs, tossing the drained body over his shoulder. "I'll catch up."

"Uh, yeah, okay.." Soda musters up a nod, and the strength to rise back up to his feet, wincing as that bruise on his side makes itself loudly known again. He still felt anxious, but even despite it all, he knew he could trust Emizel to take care of things. He always does. "Just stay safe man, I'll see you there." Soda assures with a smile, and Emizel matches it, tossing him a wink. And then suddenly- -He's gone! If Soda had blinked he would've missed it, but he was fortunate enough to just barely catch the glimpse of Emizel darting off at an inhuman speed, probably looking for a place to dump the body. Right, he would take care of it. Emizel always makes sure his crew is taken care of. Well... Guess all that's left for Soda is for him to walk back to that meeting spot. He looks around the alley for a moment, taking in the sight of that enormous pool of blood in the middle of the concrete. Or whatever the floor of this alley is made from. He ponders on the present moment a little longer than he meant to, the shock of it all leaving him aimless for just a few, soothing moments of just, decompression. The night is quiet, vast, and cold, but the stresses of just the past 5 hours had left his body radiating with fiery aches and pains, so the chill of the occasional clawing breeze was welcomed. Except for when said breeze agitated the cold water still soaked into his sock. He should step in another puddle on his way back to even it out. The smell of rain still rested heavy in the air, heralding another storm on the horizon. There was that, and then, well, there was also the blood. The stench of it felt far too intense to just ignore it, the metallic miasma making itself maliciously unmistakable. Maybe the impending storm will wash this mess away... He looked forward to putting this unfortunate night behind him. With one last rattled, but deep breath, he stuffs his hands in his pockets, and turns away, strolling back over to the mailbox that Emizel had described.

He couldn't wait to get home and drink some soda with his friends.