#hey guys!!! guess what!!!! ao3 is an ARCHIVE!!!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

serenelystrange · 1 month ago

Text

Rated G

At AO3, or under the cut!

“Oh, I am going to murder the new guy,” Buck hisses under his breath.

Taylor looks up from the paperwork on her newest sale with an arched eyebrow and sighs.

“He’s literally just doing his job, Buckley. Like I’m trying to and like you should be.”

“He stole her right from under me!”

“You mean he smiled at her when she walked in, and she made a beeline to him?” Taylor asks, smirking.

“Oh, Eddie, what a handsome boy you are! My granddaughter would love you!” Buck mocks in an irritated whisper.

“Buck,” Taylor sighs. “I know you have an appointment in ten minutes that you haven’t printed anything for. And I also know that you’re just jealous you aren’t the only pretty boy on the block anymore.”

“I’m not a pretty boy,” Buck says, pouting prettily.

“Go away and let me finish this,” Taylor says. “You’re never going to win that contest if you spend all your time whining about how Eddie is better at his job than you.”

“Oh, I’m winning that SUV,” Buck says darkly. “It’ll be the best wedding gift for Maddie and Chim, especially with the baby coming.”

“You know,” Taylor muses dryly, “If you’d been even half this determined in our relationship, we probably would have dated more than two months.”

“Low blow, Tay,” Buck scoffs. “Low blow.”

Taylor just glares.

“Ok, ok, I’m going!”

He hurries off to the back to print the welcome packet for his next appointment, the image of Eddie’s annoyingly charming smile burned into his brain.

“What’s that for you, Diaz?” Buck asks as they’re all headed out for the night. “Two today?”

Taylor looks between them for a moment before rolling her eyes and striding for the door, leaving Buck to his weird one-sided pissing contest.

“I’ve told you to call me Eddie,” Eddie says calmly, ignoring the baiting tone. “You know that. And it was three, actually. Mrs. Allen bought that little red Nissan for her husband’s birthday.”

“I hope they get full coverage,” Buck says, frowning at the memory of Mr. Allen test-driving a few of their cars previously.

Eddie laughs and shakes his head, remembering the same day. “I hope she makes him go to the optometrist.”

Buck smiles for a moment before remembering he’s annoyed at the man, and scowls again.

“I’m still going to win that contest,” he says. “You’re good, but I’m in the lead.”

Eddie just gives him an unphased look and shrugs easily.

“There’s still two weeks left, Evan,” he drawls. “I guess we’ll see who comes out on top.”

He holds the door open for Buck as they leave, biting back the amused grin that wants to spread onto his face as Buck stomps out the door like he has his own personal raincloud hovering above his head.

“Drive safe,” he calls out to Buck’s retreating form, just like he does every other night.

And just like every other night, Buck ignores him.

Buck spots them coming in a few days later, an easy sale if he’s ever seen one, and speedwalks as inconspicuously as possible to the door. An older but stunning Hispanic woman looks around as she enters, a young boy moving along with the aid of arm-crutches by her side.

“Welcome!” Buck says as he approaches, giving her his sunniest smile. He waves down at the boy. “Hey, buddy. You look a little young to be buying a car already!”

The boy giggles, looking up at Buck with bright blue eyes beneath his red plastic eyeglasses.

“I’m not buying a car,” he says, somewhat stiltedly but clear. “I’m here for my dad.”

“Oh?” Buck asks, straightening back up and looking at the woman. “Who’s dad? I can track him down for you.”

“I think we’ll be ok,” the woman says warmly, looking over Buck’s shoulder at someone. “He found us.”

Buck turns, and just barely stops himself from scoffing. Because of course it’s Eddie.

“Tia?” Eddie asks, with a concerned look. “Is everything ok?” He holds his arms out for his son and scoops the boy up, swinging him around until he shrieks before holding him against his side with one arm.

Buck narrowly dodges one of the swinging crutches, but finds he can’t be mad when the kid looks so happy.

Tia relays something to Eddie in rapid Spanish that Buck can’t really keep up with, his limited Spanish language skills stalling out after basic bar talk. But he knows the words for both hospital and grandmother, and he’s frozen in place awkwardly as Eddie’s face darkens with worry.

They seem to be arguing about something now, and Buck still doesn’t understand most of it, so he busies himself by making silly faces at the boy, who also doesn’t seem to be getting most of the conversation. The boy is too old to play peekaboo, but he still makes silly faces back, laughing as Buck pulls out his old party trick of wiggling his ears.

“Buck,” Eddie says, and Buck startles, looking over at him sheepishly.

“Sorry,” he says. “I was just goofing around.”

“No, it’s fine,” Eddie says, looking harried. “My abuela fell off her porch, and I need to get to the hospital. Do you think you could take my last two appointments for the day?”

“Don’t you want to reschedule?” Buck asks before he can help himself. “You’ll lose the commission.”

“I don’t have time to call them right now,” Eddie sighs, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. “I need to tell Bobby I have to leave, and might need a few days off, too.”

Buck wavers, looking at the clock on the wall, knowing he has nearly a full hour until his next appointment is even there, and knowing Taylor will be more than happy to snag any walk-ins that come their way.

“Get me the names,” Buck says, finally. “I’ll call them and reschedule for a week out if they’re up for it. You talk to Bobby and then go take care of your family, man.”

“Wait, really?” Eddie asks, stunned. “I’m basically handing you two sales here.”

“Are you complaining?” Buck asks, only a little testily.

Eddie shakes his head and hands his son off to his aunt before clapping Buck on the shoulder.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely. “I’ll grab the sheets when I’m in the back office.” “I’ll be right back,” he says to his aunt, leaving her and his son standing with Buck.

“I’m Buck,” he says, giving them a little wave.

“Pepa,” the woman introduces herself, before jiggling the little boy. “And this little man is Christopher.”

“Nice to meet you,” Buck says. “I, uh, I didn’t know Eddie had a kid.”

“My nephew can be private,” Pepa says. “Annoyingly so, sometimes,” she adds with a resigned sigh. “But Christopher is his world.”

“I’m sure,” Buck says, smiling at the adorable boy. “I bet you’re what, twelve years old?” he asks with a completely straight face.

That sets the boy off into giggles as he shakes his head. “I’m seven!” he says.

“Well, you fooled me!” Buck says, grinning.

“Come on, Mijo,” Eddie says as he gets back to them, taking him from Pepa and giving Buck another appreciated nod along with his contact sheet as they head off.

“Thanks again, Buck,” he says, and Buck just waves them off, feeling suddenly wrong-footed and not sure why.

Buck is surprised when Eddie is back the next day, and even more surprised when he spots Christopher beside him. He watches from the break room counter as Eddie gets the kid set up at one of the tables with assorted snacks and an ipad, before speaking to him quietly and kissing him on the head as he straightens up and meets Buck’s eyes.

Buck, caught staring, manages a strained smile and takes a long and very hot sip of his coffee to avoid having to speak. Unfortunately, Eddie heads for him anyway, facing the counter as he pours himself a cup of coffee. Buck suddenly regrets standing so close to the damn thing, as he can practically touch Eddie’s arm with his own.

“Thanks again for yesterday,” Eddie says quietly. “Bobby said Chris could hang out here until I get a better babysitter situation for the rest of the summer.”

“No problem,” Buck says. “It’s good that you’re back. I’d hate to win the sales contest by default.”

“Liar,” Eddie says with an amused scoff. “You’d still love it.”

“Yeah, well,” Buck says, fighting off a grin. “It wouldn’t be as fun as winning fair and square.”

“You know,” Eddie says with a growing grin. “I bet the soccer moms would love to see how well their Chris-sized kids fit in the minivans…”

“Cheater!” Buck gasps. “You can’t use an adorable face to sell cars for you!”

“Why?’ Eddie laughs, “you do it all the time. I’ve seen those little old ladies literally pinch your cheeks.”

“Better than my ass,” Buck says, cringing as he thinks about the hassling Taylor has dealt with since she joined up. “Tay kicked a guy right in the balls once though, before you were here. It was great. He threatened to sue.”

“How’d that go?” Eddie asks, delighted.

“Bobby dragged him over by his ear to watch the security footage of him grabbing Tay, and told him if he ever stepped foot in the building again, he’d have his wife arrest him.”

“Damn,” Eddie says with appreciation. “Nice.”

One week before the contest ends, Buck checks the board in Bobby’s office, finding that Eddie is just one sale away from tying his lead. He glares at the board for a long moment, as if the smudged white plastic somehow made the numbers up instead of just recording them. Shaking his head, he decides he needs more coffee before he can deal with the day.

“Hi Buck!” Chris calls out from his usual place in the breakroom as Buck walks in, waving at him excitedly.

“Hey, buddy,” Buck says, heading over to the table and sitting down across from Chris. “What are you working on?”

“Paint-by-numbers,” Chris says, frowning down at his ipad, stylus in hand. “It’s to try and help my motors.”

Buck watches him fondly as he swipes with the stylus with determination, worrying his lip in concentration.

“You mean your fine-motor skills, maybe?” Buck asks.

“Yeah,” Chris nods, “that was it.”

“Your dad with a customer?” Buck asks, realizing the room is empty besides the two of them and wondering where Eddie had vanished off to.

Chris shakes his head, still looking down at his ipad.

“He’s on the phone outside,” he says, looking up briefly to give Buck a sad look. “He doesn’t want me to hear him yell at the army people again.”

“Army people?” Buck asks.

“He got hurt in a war,” Chris says. “So they made him come home, and now he’s angry at them all the time.”

“Oh,” Buck says, quietly. He doesn’t know the whole story, sure that Eddie will have given Chris only the abridged, child-friendly version, but it’s enough to make him frown in thought. “Well, I know he’s happy to be back with you, even if he’s angry at the army.”

“Maybe,” Chris says, shrugging without looking up, and Buck feels his heart breaking for the kid.

Eddie reappears in the break room before Buck can say anything else, face flushed red with irritation that he’s trying to smother as he heads towards his son.

“How’s it going, baby?” he asks Chris, a forced lightness to his voice as he peers down at the ipad painting.

“The leaves are tricky,” Chris frowns. “They’re really small.”

“Just do your best,” Eddie says, ruffling his hair. “It’s ok if you can’t do everything all at once.”

“That’s a good lesson,” Buck says, ostensibly to Chris, but starting right up into Eddie’s surprised brown eyes.

Eddie drops his gaze, avoiding Buck’s eyes, and pretends to watch Chris painting until Buck finally looks away.

“No Chris today?” Buck asks the next day when Eddie shows up alone.

“Pepa has the day off,” Eddie says. “So he’s hanging out in his pajamas on her couch instead of at one of our shitty lunch tables.”

“They are so wobbly,” Buck agrees.

Eddie hums, heading to the back room to grab the paperwork for his first appointment. Buck follows before he realizes what he’s doing, and leans against the wall by the printer as Eddie waits for his documents.

“Chris said something about the army yesterday,” Buck says, “you got hurt?”

Eddie sighs tiredly but nods.

“Yeah,” he says. “Fucked up my shoulder pretty bad, among other things.”

“Shit,” Buck says. “I’m sorry.”

“At least I made it home,” Eddie shrugs with forced nonchalance. “Now if only the VA would actually help me with the kid they made me leave. That would be great.”

“Is Chris ok?” Buck asks with concern. “He told me he has C.P. but he seems basically alright, all things considered.”

“He’s great,” Eddie assures him. “He just needs to find a school that will actually be able to accommodate him and still give him a decent education. And that shit is so expensive.”

“And the VA doesn’t have any resources?” Buck guesses, frowning.

“They might,” Eddie says with a sigh. “But I’m so overwhelmed with it all, between the move from Texas, and finding a place for me and Chris, and starting this job, I just now started the process.”

“You’re from Texas??” Buck asks, incredulously. “How has that never come up?”

Eddie shrugs.

“No offense,” he says, “but you’ve pretty much hated me from the day I started. I didn’t think you’d want to compare backstories.”

“Oh,” Buck says, feeling all at once like an absolute buffoon. “I don’t hate you,” he says.

“Then what was with the attitude?” Eddie laughs, as the printer finally finishes collating his papers.

“It’s dumb,” Buck says, ducking his head. “But I was just jealous you swooped in here with your stupid pretty face and stole all my customers.”

“You know,” Eddie says, “Taylor did tell me you were just jealous, but I didn’t believe her.”

“I get too caught up in competition sometimes,” Buck says, sighing.

“Little bit, maybe,” Eddie says nodding. “So, you uh, you think I’m pretty?”

“Oh, we are not having this conversation,” Buck says, pushing himself off the wall and fleeing, leaving an amused Eddie laughing after him as he goes.

“Did I ever tell you about my ex, Abby?” Buck asks the next day he finds Eddie alone at the front desk. It’s a slow day, and Chris has managed to pull Taylor and Ravi into a spirited game of Go Fish in the breakroom.

“You barely spoke to me for the first two months I worked here,” Eddie says, giving him a sassy look. “So no, you haven’t told me about your ex.”

“She was a little older than me,” Buck says. “Was taking care of her mom before she died, and it was really rough on her, you know?”

“I’m sure,” Eddie says, the question of but what does this have to do with anything clear in his tone.

“It didn’t work out,” Buck says, surprised to realize it doesn’t sting as much as it used to when he says it. “But I did meet this really great woman because of her.”

“Ok?” Eddie asks, amused but still lost.

“I think you should call her,” Buck says, handing Eddie a mint green business card.

“I’m not looking for a girlfriend, Buck,” Eddie says, glaring at the card with an inordinate amount of offense, in Buck’s opinion.

“Don’t worry,” Buck says earnestly, “she’s married.”

“What is happening here?” Eddie asks with exasperation.

“She was their home health aide,” Buck explains. “She calls herself ‘red tape’s worst enemy’”, “and I bet she can get you and Chris the help you need with his school before your head explodes.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, looking up at Buck with badly disguised wonder. “You really think she can help?”

“Definitely,” Buck says, grinning. “She’s a miracle worker.”

“I don’t even know what to say,” Eddie hesitates for a moment before pulling Buck into a brief one-armed hug. “Thank you.”

“It’s uh,” Buck stammers, face flushing, “it’s nothing.”

Eddie shakes his head and claps Buck on the shoulder, leaving his hand there as he looks at him for a long moment.

“For Chris?” Eddie says, squeezing Buck’s shoulder, “this is everything.”

The bells on the door chime as a customer walks in, breaking the moment, and Buck takes the opportunity to escape to the bathroom.

Eddie can take the sale.

“You were right,” Eddie says, as Buck opens his apartment door and looks at him with bleary eyes. “It wasn’t nearly as fun to win that SUV by default.”

Buck groans, wondering how Eddie even found out where he lives, but moves back to let him in.

“It’s not my fault I got a stupid awful cold in the middle of August,” Buck sighs. “Corporate should take sick days into account.”

“Probably,” Eddie agrees, handing Buck a round Tupperware container that’s still warm. “Tia Pepa made it, it’s chicken soup.”

“You brought me soup?” Buck asks, feeling inexplicably like he might cry at the gesture. “You don’t even like me.”

“I never didn’t like you!” Eddie says, rolling his eyes. “Your beef with me was entirely one-sided!”

“Don’t be mean to me,” Buck whines, “I’m sick.”

“Lucky for you, I’m a pro at dealing with sick babies,” Eddie teases, leading Buck towards the couch he spots. “Sit down, I’ll find you a spoon.”

Buck tries to glare at him on principle but finds he doesn’t have the strength. Instead he lets himself be guided to the couch and settles down, tucking his bare feet up under his criss-crossed legs and securing the couch blanket around his shoulders.

“Chris says thank you, by the way,” Eddie says from the kitchen where he’s opening random drawers to look for spoons. “For the new car.”

“Hmm?” Buck asks, tired brain failing to understand what Chris has to do with the contest.

“My old car is on it’s last legs,” Eddie explains, “and even with our discount, I wasn’t going to be able to get anything better or bigger anytime soon. But the SUV holds his security seat and gives him plenty of room to stretch out his legs.”

“I didn’t know that,” Buck says. “You should’ve told me before.”

“I didn’t want you to lose on purpose,” Eddie says as he walks over and hands Buck the spoon before settling down on the other end of the couch. “A pity win is even worse than a win by default.”

“I wouldn’t have lost on purpose,” Buck says, the lie obvious even to his own ears.

“Sure, bud,” Eddie says, smirking. “You keep telling yourself that.”

“I hate you,” Buck groans. He takes a careful spoonful of the soup and hums happily. “But I love this soup. I guess it evens out.”

“I can live with that,” Eddie says, grabbing the remote from the coffee table. “So, what are we watching?”

Buck shrugs and pulls the Tupperware bowl up to his mouth to sip from directly, breathing in the steamy goodness.

Eddie can figure out the rest.

“Why didn’t Taylor win, anyway?” Eddie asks when Buck is recovered and back at work. “She’s killing it out there.”

“Tay goes for the high-priced sales,” Buck says. “Luxury cars and stuff. She’s good at it, and she definitely makes more money than both of us. But the contest was for the most individual sales, not the overall sales amount.”

“Well, I’m glad,” Eddie laughs. “Chris loves the car, he wanted to camp out in it the other night.”

“Adorable,” Buck says, fondly. “But not great for anyone over five feet tall.”

“I told him I’d take him camping before school starts,” Eddie says casually. “Next weekend maybe.”

“That’s cool,” Buck says. “You’ll have to make smores! It’s tradition.”

“Is that what you did with your family?” Eddie asks, looking concerned when Buck’s expression shutters for a moment.

“My parents aren’t really the family activities type,” Buck says. “But Maddie, my older sister, she would camp out with me in the backyard, and we’d make smores and tell ghost stories.” He smiles at the memory, despite it all. “She’s really great.”

“Maybe you could come with us?” Eddie asks, almost shyly. “We can make smores and roast hot dogs. Chris is excited to build the fire.”

“Yeah?” Buck asks, “I wouldn’t be in the way?”

Eddie shakes his head, giving Buck a soft smile.

“Not at all,” he says, “you should definitely come.”

Buck smiles again, feeling the blush creeping all the way up to his hairlines, but nods in agreement.

“Can’t wait.”

“I can’t believe it’s nearly Christmas,” Buck says as they’re leaving one Friday night, he and Eddie locking up as they go. “Not that it ever gets cold enough to snow here.”

“L.A. cant even handle rain,” Eddie says as they head to the employee lot, “we don’t need them trying to drive in snow.”

“Truth,” Buck agrees, shuddering at the idea.

They make it to the cars that are parked side by side, each pulling out their keys before facing each other.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Buck asks, knowing full well that Eddie has been planning their planetarium trip for literal weeks.

“Obviously,” Eddie says, grabbing Buck’s shirt collar and tugging him in for a sweet kiss.

“Drive safe,” he says, like he has every other night.

Buck steals one last kiss for the night, laughing against Eddie’s lips as he finally says it back.

The End

Notes:

Honestly, what am I even doing with my life? ^_^

#buddie #buck x eddie #buddie fic #evan buckley x eddie diaz #911 abc #911 fic

28 notes · View notes

britcision · 1 year ago

Text

Hey guys

I have present for you

Not sure if there will be a WIP Wednesday this week since I’m con crunching and we leave on Thursday, soooo… this will tide you over I’m sure! The completed chapter 15!

Previous Chapter:

First chapter and AO3 link:

————-

I’ll Take The Highway

Time was almost slipping away too quickly in the milkshake bar, and Danny wished he didn’t have to keep an eye on it.

(Well. Seriously hoped. Even in the privacy of his head, he couldn’t make it a wish.)

He had to get Tucker back to MIT though, and back to Gotham in a reasonable time frame to get to bed before class tomorrow.

If he got to bed before midnight, there might be a chance for he and Jason to run to the Far Frozen in the morning. Or after, Danny’s classes didn’t run late. Or…

He was missing out on the fun today, trying to plan tomorrow. Much as Jazz would love him being more organised, he pushed it to the back of his mind.

They’d visit Frostbite soon. And find out how Jason’s core was, though Danny was beginning to think he knew. Here, when Jason was happy and relaxed? Not tensed, shut down, or angry?

Danny could definitely feel something he hadn’t before. Not exactly the same as another ghost, or any of the other halfas, not yet.

But it was almost like Box Lunch’s fresh core seen through a house of mirrors.

Maybe that was what had him so close to the edge today? It was taking some pretty serious effort not to react to even the mention of an old threat to Jason.

Jason, the sweet baby ghost.

And if his smile was a little sappy at that thought, well, that was no one’s business but his own. At least he had something to sit on for when his rogues started embarrassing baby stories.

Finally he couldn’t put it off anymore. Too much to do, friends to fly across country, and he still hadn’t found a good way to ask Waylon his question. He just… well.

He’d given Jason all the server info, the stuff about who his rogues were, how he beat them, the things they’d learned about the Infinite Realms. They’d even shared some stories around different bits.

That didn’t exactly explain what he wanted to ask Waylon about. And it really wasn’t something he was comfortable sharing just yet, even if he already knew it was dumb.

Jason was a good guy. Who hung out with Batman, who was apparently an asshole. He wouldn’t judge Danny for having some dark and fucked up stories in all the zany ones.

Fuck, maybe Waylon could tell him how Jason would react. It was gonna come up, it’d have to, and Danny really would feel better having someone else’s opinion.

He was reluctant to interrupt their good time, another story devolving into laughter, but it was getting into the afternoon and… well, he also had no idea how long this would take.

“Hey, uh, by the way. I’ve gotta head out in a bit, dropping Tuck back off in Massachusetts, I just wanted to talk to Waylon for a minute first? In private?” Because if Danny had learned one thing?

Direct worked best.

It worked now, Harley nodding along and hopping up, cartwheeling her way along the table and out of the booth.

“Say no more, Danno! C’mon, Jayjay, I wanted ta catch up with you on somethin’ too, so this works perfectly!” She declared cheerfully, giving Jason a fond tug to his fluffy white streak of hair.

Jason shot Danny a look that was half commiserating, half curious as he slid out of the both after her, but Danny was too busy staring into an imagined hellscape where Harley met Jack Fenton.

Fuck Dan, the world couldn’t handle that.

By the time he came back to himself, he and Waylon were alone in the booth, the big man watching him curiously.

“So, what’s on yer mind, kid?” He asked in a low voice, folding his arms on the edge of the table and leaning in.

Secret villain hideaway or not, this wasn’t something Danny wanted just anyone overhearing, so he beckoned Waylon closer to his end of the booth first, tucked into the wall.

The big guy slid his way surprisingly delicately down the seat, then leaned in again, watching Danny expectantly.

Which was when Danny realised he shoulda probably thought about a good way to put this.

Blunt it was gonna have to be.

“So… you… Harley said people called you Killer Croc before you ever hurt anyone?” He said in a rush, flinching at how bad it actually sounded said aloud.

Waylon… did not have eyebrows to raise, and it was really fucking weird that he was noticing that now, but it was definitely what he’d been doing, and Danny was distracting himself again.

“They did,” Waylon agreed a moment later, his voice low and even. Guard up, but not defensive. Not closing the topic off.

Danny huffed out a sigh, and found he couldn’t quite meet the man’s eyes. Found himself intently examining the diamond pattern on the formica tables. His own hands, twisting in front of him over that pattern.

“You… you became what they said you were. A monster.” The words caught in his throat, hard to spit out and shit he thought he was past this.

It had been years.

A scaled green hand covered his, and Danny found himself surprised by how smooth the scales were. Far from soft, but not rough. Almost smoother than the table.

“Who called you a monster, kid?” Waylon asked softly, his voice gruff with something too close to understanding.

Danny’s head snapped up and he shook it quickly, sucking in a deep breath.

“Oh, no one. Not for like, a really long time now. And they said sorry and everything, it’s not that. It’s… you gave into it. Let them make you something wrong and dangerous, and you stopped. How did you stop?” He asked quietly, finally finding it easier to look at Waylon’s face.

He looked surprised.

Finding Jason had been harder than usual. He’d never turned his phone back on after last night, and Bruce was still wrestling with one of his least favourite (and most common) side effect of a concussion; light sensitive headaches.

Even with the screen brightness all the way down, it was hard to even look at the batcomputer while he waited for Constantine to arrive.

None of his usual tricks were helping, spikes of pain jabbing behind his eyes every time he tried to scan the cameras for Jason’s presence.

It was Babs who found him in the end, taking her lunch at the library late to help him out. She had whole programs to scan the security cameras of Gotham for her, trained to recognise any bat or rogue from any angle.

False positives happened, but usually didn’t take more than a look to confirm or deny. They were extremely accurate.

Bruce would know.

He had copies of the same programs.

They just weren’t running properly.

He was probably still tired. He’d been pushing himself while injured, as usual, and as usual Alfred would be eager to tell him he’d been overtaxing himself too hard to work efficiently.

And then Constantine was late.

By the time the magician arrived, Bruce was regretting having taken a break to sleep at all. He should have sorted this out last night, before ever calling Jason.

They could have picked a time to meet, and while Bruce was fully aware Jason might have just told him to fuck off, he might not have. Especially if Bruce had promised to leave him alone.

He knew better than to ask Jason to introduce Danny to Constantine.

Barbara had generously kept an eye on Jason in the interim, and by the time Batman and Constantine were ready to go he seemed to have settled in Freeze’s place.

The Frozen Fields. Named for his wife, who Bruce’s top scientists still wouldn’t be able to save.

Along with Harley, Waylon Jones, and Danny.

Of course he was with Danny.

Half the city seemed to be intent on frustrating him today. They’d taken the Batmobile, and while he tended to only drive it in emergencies (and after dark), it still barely sped the journey through the city traffic.

It always felt wrong, sitting and waiting with the rest of the cars in the Batmobile. Didn’t match the “lurking justice in the shadows”. Which Constantine was quick to remind him.

Bruce just gripped the steering wheel tighter, sucked in a deep breath, and nearly bit his tongue when they finally edged up to an intersection only for the light to turn red.

Waylon sat back in his seat, back scraping against the wall of the booth as he surveyed the kid in front of him.

Little squirt was tougher ‘n he looked, that much was definitely true. Harley had given him the short run down on their way to the milkshake bar, all the powers she knew he had.

And that he’d been hunted by his folks for a while. Waylon knew how that kinda shit could mess ya up.

He appreciated the heads up too, cuz this kinda shit coming up outta nowhere? Also pretty damn rough. He’d wondered if the kid just wanted to come along for another fight.

If he just wanted another chance to say he’d looked Killer Croc in the eye.

But there was no real bravado there, not even when he challenged Waylon to a rematch. Shit, the kid treated him more normal than most of his henchmen had ever managed to.

Made sense, knowing he was part a ghost an’ fought ghost rogues, but it left Waylon wondering. Apparently he was getting his answer.

Same damn question he’d asked himself a thousand times, ‘specially around the kind of young vigilantes who’d taken a turn to the bad.

Didn’t mean he had a good answer.

He regarded the kid for a long minute, watching the fidgeting, the sudden shyness from a boy who’d literally tackled him from behind on a whim.

This wasn’t just an idle question. Something made him sure of that, and he’d never been involved in all that much of the really weird shit. You heard stories, especially in Arkham.

So he decided to give the kid the best answer he had.

“Cuz I was the worst version of myself. I let myself be the monster they thought I was, got pretty good at it. But it never made me happy.” He paused, mulling it over.

Chuckled softly and looked down into his half drunk milkshake. It was kinda funny how obvious it seemed, in hindsight.

“Shit, there was never even anythin’ I wanted. Not like Penguin, Freeze, or the others. People treated me like a monster so I tried to be one, cuz why the hell not? Couldn’t be worse, could it?”

His gaze shifted back to Danny’s face, watching the kid’s expression. No judgement, which was nice. But he did look confused.

“So you just… got sick of it?” Danny asked, his brows furrowed as he played with his fingers.

Waylon chuckled and shook his head.

“Kinda. Spent a while thinkin’ if people couldn’t treat me with respect, fear’d do. But it ain’t the same. An’ I never had the drive or creative cruelty to stand out in Gotham.”

Danny looked a little incredulous at that, eyebrows rising, but he caught himself before commenting. Snickered and shook his head.

“Yeah, I guess being in a city that’s used to people like Scarecrow and the Joker puts “big and green” into perspective,” he agreed dryly, and Waylon laughed.

It felt good to laugh.

“Oh yeah. City’s got more than its share of low level thugs anyway. I spent a while as extra muscle for the big boys, but I ain’t the takin’ orders sort,” he explained with a modest shrug.

Danny grinned, folding his arms on the table and leaning forward.

“What, a shy and retiring guy like you?” He asked, clearly teasing, and Waylon waved a hand dismissively.

“I’m lucky it was Gotham,” he added after a moment, reflection sobering his mood. “Got sent t’ Arkham. Met Harley. An’ the Bat’s not all that bad. He tried gettin’ me outta the life a couple times.”

Danny cocked his head, a slight frown returning to his face. Following Waylon’s lead.

“How did Batman try and get you out?” There was a little too much intensity for it to be a casual question, and Waylon noted it. Not that he’d figure it out on his own.

Just tryin’ to make sure he didn’t damage the kid.

“Oh, there were a couple ways. Got me moved down to Florida once. Out in the green, away from people. I figured bein’ a wild animal might be more my speed, but it wasn’t. An’ it got messy when I left. Like that whatever he tried, really. There’s lines you can’t uncross.”

Lines like being a cannibal.

Not that he was sobbin’ on a preacher’s shoulder about it. Most of the people he’d eaten were assholes who’d deserved it, and it’d been a preference, not a need.

For all people loved to go on about him eatin’ kids and babies, he’d never actually done it. A guy had to have standards.

Made it easy to stop, once he was in a better head space. He and Harley had talked a lotta old shit out.

Kid didn’t need to know those grisly details though, at least not from his own mouth. Watching Danny a moment longer, Waylon came to a decision.

“Look, kid. There’s a lotta reasons people go bad. Some of ‘em can’t be helped. But if they’re not gettin’ anything out of it, if there’s no goal? The appeal runs out. And sometimes all it takes is someone willin’ to reach down an’ haul yer back up to the light.”

He wouldn’t ask if that was the case with whoever the kid wanted to help. Everyone heard stories, ‘specially about heroes meeting their evil selves.

The fear looked personal, but the asking coulda been for anyone. Waylon was in no rush to judge.

Danny mulled over his words for a while, lips moving soundlessly as he frowned down at the table. This time when he looked up, there was a peace in his eyes.

He’d come to a decision. Good for him.

“Thanks, Waylon. You seem like a pretty great guy to me,” he said simply, and Waylon definitely did not feel a lump in his throat.

“This is after years o’ Harley workin’ on me,” he grumbled gruffly. Shaking his head, he slurped down the last of his milkshake quickly.

Nothing like brain freeze to explain being a little misty eyed.

Jason didn’t exactly object to being led out of the bar by Harley; Danny wanted to talk to Waylon in private.

Jason had figured Danny had something to ask the guy about. He hadn’t exactly expected not to be part of the conversation, but that was fine.

He’d know if Danny got into trouble. Fuck, Danny could handle any trouble Gotham could dish out, probably. And the rogues had some basic manners; not starting shit in Freeze’s place was one of them.

Penguin might put the squeeze on and make your life uncomfortable if you lit up the Iceberg Lounge. Dr Freeze’s cold shoulder was a lot more literal, and he didn’t do “proportional response”.

So yeah, he could be cool and give Danny some space.

It wasn’t exactly a surprise that Harley wanted to talk to him either, although he still didn’t see the point. But he let her guide him around the side of the building to a back alley anyway.

“Still fine, Harley,” he said before she could get started, both hands raised in front of him.

She gave him an all too knowing look and hopped up to sit on the dumpster. Put her about a head taller than him. Not that he cared.

“Sure, kid. You’ve been goin’ through a lot though, so I gotta ask; is there anythin’ ya wanna talk to Auntie Harley about?” She asked in her sweetest voice, interlacing her fingers under her chin and batting her lashes.

Jason snickered and leaned against the other side of the alley.

Shit, he wasn’t even annoyed with her play acting. The pit was a happy little puddle in his chest, all sunshine and roses.

A week ago he’d have walked away. Been pissed at wasting his time, getting in his way. How much of that had been because of the Lazarus pits, the problems with the ectoplasm he’d apparently been supposed to be solving?

Was that why nothing had ever been enough? Why he always had to keep pushing? Carve himself a patch of Gotham, keep going. Cut the crime out of Crime Alley, not enough.

Take up with the Outsiders, keep himself busy, rushed off his feet so that when he fell into bed for a couple hours a day he didn’t even dream?

When was the last time he’d taken a breath and just… relaxed? It all felt so long ago, but it had barely been a week.

It just. His whole life had unclenched, like it was a muscle he’d finally stopped using.

Fuck, maybe he should talk to Harley about it.

He got the feeling she knew though, those eagle eyes tracking his every move. They’d never really hung out, but he was uncomfortably aware of how well she’d known him.

How much of him was still the boy she’d known?

She was waiting for an answer, and all of a sudden Jason wasn’t sure what he’d say. Knew that if anyone in the world understood, it just might be Dr Harleen Quinzel.

He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck, unable to meet her eyes. Fuck, he was getting as bad as Bruce.

And if that thought didn’t kick him up the ass…

“You ever wake up one day and realise your whole life’s been going wrong?” He finally asked, glancing up from the corner of his eye.

She’d dropped the cutesy act, leaning forward with her arms braced on the edge of the dumpster, her face professionally calm. Open. Sympathetic.

“Think I might know just a lil about what that’s like,” she agreed softly, and Jason snorted.

“Yeah. Well. Turns out ever since I came back from the dead I’ve been haunted. Literally. And no one ever noticed.”

He hadn’t even come all the way back, but he couldn’t say that. Not yet. But maybe he could share some of the rest.

Harley nodded slowly, giving him her full attention. Just waiting for him to go on.

It kinda felt like being under a microscope, but not in the cold, analytical way Bruce did that always pissed him off. Like she really cared, and was looking for all his broken parts so she could help him fit them back together.

Fuck, if his kid self had ever known he’d one day trust Harley Quinn over the whole Justice League…

Shit, he didn’t even know how much she already knew.

“The pit rage… it’s a psychosis people get, coming out of the Lazarus pit. Makes you angry, violent, stronger, like a blind rage. For most people it goes away. Mine didn’t.”

He almost wanted to laugh, bitter and sharp.

“Because it wasn’t just the psychosis. I’m not fucking weak, I’m not fucking broken, there’s something else living inside me and it made me so fucking angry all the time…”

The frustration was building again, but this time it was his. All his, not a bubble, not a stir, and part of Jason thrilled with it. He could feel however he wanted, just him.

He cut it off though, forcing himself to relax before Danny could notice. Could worry about whatever he was projecting in his aura.

He could kinda still feel Danny’s, which was new. Not brushing against his, not touching like they were close, but he was aware in a way he hadn’t been before.

Like if he shut his eyes he could point in exactly the direction Danny was standing.

“Danny’s the only one who noticed. Well, really, he’s the only one who could. It’s a ghost thing, and he… he got me help. I feel like myself for the first time since… since I came back.”

He hadn’t even noticed how much the background rage burnt through him until it stopped. Until he could look at his family and see their prodding for what it was; concern.

It was still surprising him, and maybe would for a while. Kinda hoped not though. It wasn’t the most cheerful train of thought.

Seeing that he’d run out of words, Harley gave him a moment to find more, then reached over and ruffled his hair. It was barely a strain in the cramped alley.

“Kid, anyone with two eyeballs t’ rub together can see Danny’s real good for ya. So why’s Bruce tryin’ so hard to keep ya apart?” She asked gently, and Jason snorted.

Rolled his eyes and folded his arms, caught himself doing it, and forced them back to his sides.

“Not rubbing his eyeballs together?” He asked dryly. Harley just snickered.

“Please, if we could get ‘im ta stop overanalysing everything that’d be the miracle. So what’s got ‘im on edge?”

Jason hesitated for a long moment, thinking about it. Finally he shrugged; as always, Bruce was a mystery to him. The man who’d taught him all the tricks to pick apart any mystery. Except himself.

“No idea. We played a prank on him and the Mansons at the gala like we told you last night?” He offered, already aware it wasn’t likely to be the answer.

Harley shook her head in agreement, which almost threw him off.

“Nah, you’re right. The whole making-out-in-a-closet shtick is classic, even if he didn’t see through it yet he’s never cared about you boys smoochin’ before,” she agreed, then sighed and tugged him in to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Whatever his problem is though, it is his problem Jason, an’ what he pulled at the gala has nothin’ t’ do with you or Danny. I already told ‘im off about not talkin’ to ya and I’m gonna do it again when I catch him. Right now I just wanna hear you say you know it ain’t your fault,” she told him firmly, cheeks held between both hands.

Jason fought the urge to roll his eyes. And the rising lump in his throat.

“I know Bruce’s bullshit isn’t my fault, Harley,” he grumbled through smushed lips. Harley squeezed his cheeks a little tighter.

“Then say it anyway. It ain’t your fault Brucie has a bug in his ass, and ya ain’t done anything wrong to deserve it.” She was firm as the wall behind him, utterly unrelenting.

And she could go on for hours, if memory served. Long enough for Danny to come out and see. That was why Jason told himself he gave in.

Nothing at all to do with the way her words ached and bled a gentle warmth into the icy void in his gut where the anger still roiled.

“It’s not my fault B’s got the emotional capacity of a wet newspaper. I don’t deserve his helicopter bullshit any more than anyone else,” he told her obediently, doing his best not to be too sarcastic.

Harley placed a kiss on his nose and released him.

“That’s my good boy. Now, more about this haunted thing. You boys got a plan?” She asked sharply, head cocked as she watched his face.

Cheeks red, Jason leaned back against his wall and pretended it made him out of reach.

“We do,” he said curtly, looking down at the trash strewn ground. Trying to explain it now would take too long, Danny would be out soon.

Of course Harley noticed, nodding thoughtfully and leaning back, kicking her legs.

“Well, if ya ever want to tell me more, you’ve got my number. An’ I’ll get Brucie off ya back for a while, even if I’ve gotta call in the Boy Scout. Whatever you aren’t tellin’ ‘im, don’t let ‘im rush ya,” she told him firmly. Jason had to smile.

“Aren’t you the one always telling us to communicate?” He asked half rhetorically. Harley grinned and hopped off her dumpster, making her way to the front of the alley.

“It only works if ya wait til you’re ready. Pushin’ an’ rushin’ only makes it worse,” she explained airily, stepping out into the street.

Turning, and freezing like a hound on a scent. Eyes narrowed, she patted Jason on the chest as he stepped out after her, not turning her head.

“Jason darlin’, be a dear an’ run get Auntie Harley her bat. The bike’s parked ‘round the back,” she said ever so sweetly, and that tone combined with the narrow eyed glare meant Jason knew exactly who she was looking at before he turned.

He did it anyway, eyes widening as he caught sight of Batman, in full gear, coming down the street towards them. Accompanied by John Fucking Constantine.

Had he seriously come to chase him away from Danny in person? In fucking costume?

The anger surged, his and the pit’s, held back only by the small woman in front of him. The dainty hand on her chest, that’d turn into an iron bar if he pushed it.

Sure, she couldn’t actually hold him back, but she didn’t need to. Whatever Jason wanted to say or do to Bruce, Harley could do a whole lot worse.

Anger melding into a vicious satisfaction, he turned straight back down the alley with a spring in his step.

Bruce was a little relieved to arrive outside the bar and see Jason already there. Batman walking in wouldn’t have been out of the question, but he’d rather avoid the theatrics.

Danny not being in sight didn’t come into the decision one bit.

But then Harley said something to Jason and he turned away, leaving immediately. Bruce sped up, planning to follow Jason down the alley-

“Hold ya horses, Batsy,” Harley snapped, stepping directly into his path. He could have gone around her, certainly, but he stopped.

If there was even a chance he could get her on side, that would help immensely.

“I just need to talk to Jason,” he said in Batman’s low growl. Constantine had stopped too, well back of whatever was going to happen.

At least he wasn’t a complete fool.

Harley folded her arms, giving him her very least impressed look.

“An’ if the words you’re sayin’ ain’t “I’m so sorry please forgive me I’ll never do it again”, ya don’t actually need to. Ya need ta speak to me.”

Bruce almost frowned at her words. Why now? They’d spoken before, but she’d seemed satisfied. What had changed between now and their last conversation?

Batman’s face remained impassive as ever.

“Harley. It’s important.”

“He wants me to give the kid a magic checkup,” Constantine put in from behind him, still well back. He waved at Harley when she glanced his way.

Harley’s eyes narrowed for a moment and then Jason was jogging back down the alley, holding her bat.

What the hell had changed since their last conversation?

Pinning Constantine with a piercing glare, she held it for a minute before turning her attention back to Bruce. Snapping her fingers in front of his mask before he could even open his mouth.

“Uh uh! Johnny needs ta talk to him fer that, not you. YOU need to come talk ta me. Now.” She held out her other hand without looking, and Jason slipped the bat into it.

Had he really upset Jason that much at the gala? He’d thought he understood about the public apology, but this felt… well, worse than he’d expected.

More urgent. More vehement. She was more angry than she had been.

He’d gone wrong again, some time between now and then, and he had a Justice League meeting in an hour. Less, counting in the travel time back to the nearest zeta terminal.

Did he have time for this?

Jason was glaring at him, flat and unfriendly, but with a decided undercurrent of anticipation. Bruce’s presence would only make Constantine’s job harder.

Ignoring the part of him that thought the magician deserved to have it a lot harder, he nodded and refocused his attention on Harley.

“Fine. Here?” Better to get this over with. He could put aside all of his personal thoughts and feelings for the meeting, but at least he’d have answers.

Harley gave the surrounding street another sharp look, then shook her head, crooked her fingers, and led him into the alleyway.

“We’ll go ‘round the back. You’re bad for business,” she told him archly, and Bruce followed without a word.

He didn’t tell Jason to stay and speak to Constantine; he was self aware enough to know that would have the opposite effect. The magician would just have to sort himself out.

Part of him almost hoped she would actually use the bat this time. It served its purpose as a visual symbol, but everything made much more sense when people just wanted to beat him up.

Navigating their emotions and separate interior lives and expectations was… messy.

Constantine and Jason stared at each other for a long moment after Harley and the Bat disappeared down the alley.

Then Constantine sighed and nodded after them.

“If they’re goin’ round back, we can take this off the main street. If you don’t mind?” Not that the boy had much choice.

They’d caught him unmasked, which raised again the fuckin’ question of why Batt-o was so intent on being masked up for this one.

Maybe he just didn’t want to change. It looked like a lot of kohl on under that mask. Probably took a while to switch in and out.

Jason narrowed his eyes back for a moment, then shrugged. His whole posture still screamed annoyance and aggression, but moved back into the side alley anyway.

“Whatever. Not too far though. I need to hear if my friends leave.” There was something about the agreement that didn’t quite sit right for John.

Too easy. He didn’t have much (any) experience with the kid, never having willingly gotten near a revenant, but… well, this? This was weirdly passive.

When he’d seen the kid coming back with a weapon, that had made sense. He’d half expected Jason to take a swing personally; the dead-or-dead-aligned tended to have a different understanding of acceptable violence.

Handing it off to Harley was basically trading a gun for a nuke, but he didn’t seem at all upset that it hadn’t been used. Hadn’t gone for Batman’s throat, no matter how much Harley seemed to think he’d be justified.

What the hell did the Bat do now?

Something was off with Jason, something that made Constantine almost rethink his earlier guess.

Kid dies, shows back up a couple years later in a storm of blood and violence, demanding revenge? Yeah, that was classic revenant. Physical body, jacked beyond anything the kid shoulda grown into? Ditto.

Even the rage the Leaguers reported checked the boxes, but a revenant shouldn’t be this calm. Not in the face of any kind of threat.

Good news, really; he probably wouldn’t go for Constantine’s throat. John was more than happy with that, though he did regret getting the Bat all worked up.

Not that there was another version of the story Batman might take better, mind. Whatever the hell Jason Todd was, the kid wasn’t human anymore, and for ol’ Batsy the rest of the details didn’t much matter.

They got out of sight of the main thoroughfare, Jason leaning back against a wall with his arms folded and a smirk on his face that was just all challenge.

Constantine didn’t rise to it, brows furrowing as he raised a hand and murmured the beginnings of a spell.

Felt it instantly crash around him, smacked down by a power so titanic he’d have fallen if the side of a dumpster hadn’t caught him. A power so old, so wrought with death, so fucking familiar that it blacked out every sense.

No way in fucking hell any kind of fucking revenant, wraith, zombie, ghost, anything could leave that taste in his mouth. No, that? That was a personal signature.

And not something that could be done lightly either. A power like that… no, this power, Constantine knew exactly whose it was.

This kind of power, reacting this strongly? This instantly, even here on Earth? That was the full force of the Infinite Realms, which had to mean…

Eyes wide and shaken, John scrabbled at the lid for support, staring at Jason. Who actually looked more than a little surprised himself.

It took him a moment to find the words, longer to steady the shake in his voice.

“You… you… holy fucking hells, Jason, do you have any idea what you’ve done? You’ve bound your fuckin’ soul to-”

“The same guy you sold yours to?” Jason drawled, raising an eyebrow.

And alright, fair, that was a pretty good fuckin’ point, but Constantine was well aware he was a dire warning, not a good example.

Damn hard to argue that to a smugly reclining something-or-other that had bound himself so tightly to that same king that John couldn’t even do a gentle magical probe.

He’d been planning on being polite and everything. Noninvasive, Jason wouldn’t even feel it.

Shit, had he felt the spell shut down too? Constantine was about to ask, but Jason wasn’t done talking. Or smirking, looking distinctly amused that he’d shut the mouthy magician up.

“Did you know he owns your soul eleven times by now? That seems a little low to me, surely you’re down to hocking scraps,” Jason noted with a dry chuckle.

Constantine shrugged defensively, well aware that his battered soul was nothing to write home about. Still mostly trying to work out what the fuck was going on.

What use would the Ghost King have for a bat? A use important enough to fold Jason, who’d only be risen six years, into the high court?

Sure, the kid was good, he’d proved that in Gotham’s underworld, but to the Realms? He was barely an infant, and cuttin’ off heads would not impress there.

“No one buys just a piece of a soul. Every deal’s for the whole thing, which is why they keep me alive rather’n letting me kick it and tearin’ up the bits,” he explained distractedly, giving Jason another slow once over.

The good news was, nothing about the guy smelled like a revenant. There was power there, sure, a hint of a magical signature just on the borders of recognizable, but he couldn’t quite pin it down.

Jason hummed in acknowledgement, or maybe interest, but Constantine needed him to keep talking. Needed more clues to work out what the fuck this guy was.

“Pretty sure I haven’t had anyone make the same deal eleven times though,” he commented cautiously, trying to appear as casual as Jason while watching him closely, wishing he’d accepted some bat-training, “most people only make that mistake once.”

“Yeah, I asked about that,” Jason agreed with a dry chuckle, and the bottom fell out of Constantine’s stomach.

A position that let him backtalk the king of the Infinite Realms? Triple not good, not least because that lot were volatile and fuckin’ possessive, but not more so than goddamn Batman.

“Apparently people handed you over for some kind of tax season. You’re a low value trading card over there at this point.”

And that knocked every other thought out of Constantine’s head as he straightened, unreasonably affronted.

It’d be fucking nice to be low value. People might ignore him.

And since when did the Infinite Realms collect taxes?

“Low value? Princes of Hell are fightin’ over my damn soul, it’s the only thing keeping me kickin’,” he protested, and Jason snickered.

Gave John a smug, superior smile.

“And ten entities gave your soul up for tax breaks. Let’s face it, it’s not like you have rarity on your side,” he pointed out smugly.

“It’s still only one soul,” Constantine pouted idly, his mind suddenly spinning mile a minute with the implications.

The kid couldn’t have had this much presence last night, whatever else was true. John would have noticed.

It might just have been now that he knew to look for it, but Jason practically glowed with the essence of the Realms. He’d also somehow not just gotten himself bound to the Ghost King, he had a position where he could question them.

And have his questions answered, if not hugely coherently. Maybe that was just the translation through Jason, though.

That could be a good thing. A good sign at least, for the temperament of the new king. Pariah Dark never listened to questions by all accounts; people never got the opportunity to ask. He just conquered.

Of course, John knew enough magical entities to know that “willing to talk” did not mean, friendly, helpful, safe, or even “not prone to constant and complex lies”.

Thing was, he could handle liars. Tricksters. Anything of the sort, usually, cuz if nothing else? Being willing to talk before shooting meant Constantine had a chance to confuse them.

He was bloody good at that, all else notwithstanding. Almost his most useful talent.

It might be worth trying to find a little more about the Ghost King. Doubly if Jason was willing to help, but that’d have to be careful. No way to know what the kid had accidentally sworn to on that soul bond.

Hell, how was he gonna work out what the kid even was with magic off the table? It’d be back to the fuckin’ books and Undead 101.

At least he was still in his own body. That put a limit on the possibilities, but there were still a lot of options. Bats was going to be unbearable.

Because worse yet… the one thing John did know, with absolute certainty, was that the kid was getting stronger. If he hadn’t manifested any powers yet, it was just a matter of time.

Whatever Jason was, whatever deal he’d managed to pull, the damn halfa wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. Something was feeding the power in him, whatever had yanked him back to the land of the living to start with.

Plus side? Batty could get off his ass about the kids hanging out. Jason had already taken a fuckin’ jet across whatever influence hanging out with a ghost could do, and pushed right the way to the other side.

He might as well be fuckin’ drinking ectoplasm at this point. Kid could carry Danny around on his back and not make a lick of difference.

Course, if it was the halfa who got the kid to make his deal… well, Batman would have another reason to worry about them hangin’ out together, but the damage was already done.

It wasn’t a soul buy, not to John’s experienced eye. Not a leash around the kid’s neck, not a claim stamped into his being. If anything, this was worse.

Somehow Jason had gotten himself so tightly wrapped to the Ghost King that the other’s power all but flowed in his veins. Even from here, far from the Realms, Constantine didn’t even finish the spell before it was smacked down.

That… that was new. Nothing he’d ever seen before, and he was well used to possessive metaphysical assholes who didn’t like anyone else touchin’ their shit.

Fuck, did Jason even know?

Constantine sucked in a breath and gave damn near instantly on even trying to form a tactful question a bat would understand. Kid was playing in his kiddy pool now, like it or not, and John had to know how deep he’d gone.

“So what deal did you make?” He asked bluntly. Not that Jason apparently minded in the least, still smirking as he gave the magician a cool once over.

“Y’know, I’m pretty sure it’s rude to ask. Not discussing paychecks and all that,” he drawled casually, eyes still dark with that barely covered aggression.

Constantine rolled his eyes.

“I had three princes of Hell gettin’ a little too cozy and a cursed rock lookin’ to turn the world to pink tourmaline. The Ghost King was big enough to shut ‘em up and let me push the rock to a different dimension where it’s never gonna be our problem again. Now quit bein’ an ass, I know a lot more about this kinda shit and I can tell ya if they hid any clauses.”

That did shut Jason up, the kid’s eyes widening for a moment like he hadn’t expected Constantine to share.

Tough titties for him, John already knew Batman was gonna be a bitch about this so doing the due diligence early? Pretty much their only hope.

He considered it longer than John thought was justified, since it was inarguable. John Constantine, soul selling expert. He should have business cards made.

Finally the kid shrugged. He still looked prickly, defensive, but he was listening.

“Well I didn’t sell him my fucking soul.” Which.

John stared at him, mouth agape. Snapped shut and narrowed his eyes.

“Kid, you could not be more marked if you wore a neon sign. You signed something over, the Ghost King ain’t the sort to give prizes for free.”

A Ghost King Jason seemed to think was a he, so that was a useful little piece of intel. He’d definitely know better than John if they were already on ask-questions stage.

Jason scowled and shrugged, arms still crossed.

“Lucky me. Protection from big scary human wizards, for the low low price of my service. And some help with my Lazarus problem,” he added, as if the last was the only part he though worth mentioning.

Constantine sagged back against the wall, sinking down to sit on the alley floor. Bracing his elbows on his knees he ran both hands through his hair, holding his head up.

“Great… just fucking great,” he muttered, voice muffled by his new position. Part of him wanted to laugh, but he was pretty sure it’d come out a sob.

Hysteria beckoned.

Jason made another noise that might almost have been concern, and Constantine forced himself to suck in a breath. To keep it together.

Forced his head up so he could glare at the kid who now looked just way too confused.

“You get that that’s worse, right?” He snapped, eyes narrowing. “You get that selling yourself into service is fucking worse?”

Jason glared back down at him, drawing himself up like size and muscle was gonna impress a magician.

(It might have if Jason was a decade or two older, but not the way the kid intended.)

“What the fuck d’you think will happen when he takes your soul?” He snapped back, aggression rising fast enough that Constantine forced himself to stop again.

Deep breath in. Hold. Out.

One more in. Hold. Out.

He got to ten, the kid watching him with visible confusion, deflating the longer John went without pushing back. Yippee for him.

When he thought he had his voice under control again, John forced himself to his feet.

“I sell my soul, and if anyone ever actually claims the damn thing they can do whatever they want to it for eternity. It’ll fuckin’ suck, kid, but the one thing they can’t do, no matter who it is?”

He just sounded tired now, which only wrong footed Jason even more. Why had he even gotten out of bed at all?

Maybe if he left now he could just go back. Tuck himself up in the House of Mystery, feed his League communicator to something pandimensional, and just hide for a while.

The Bat would probably come after him.

Taking another bolstering breath, John did his best to sound calm. Not patronising. Because the kid damn near definitely had no idea.

Which was why people should leave magic to the fuckin’ professionals.

Catching Jason’s eye, he held it, hoping to impress the seriousness of what he was about to say into the kid’s soul.

“They cannot compel me to action. They can try all sorts of force, all sorts of fucked up shit, but I get the last say. They say jump, I say fuck off, no jump. But selling service?”

Jason’s eyes had widened now, and John could just see all those little wheels turning. Well, set the little fuckers spinnin’ faster.

“They say jump, you’re on the way up before you can ask “how high?”. I dunno what you think you signed up for, kid, I dunno what deals with the new king are like cuz I didn’t fuckin’ ask. But you get a copy of the damn contract and bring it back to me. I’ll see if there’s anything we can do about it.”

It was the only logical option, especially with an entity this powerful. Constantine was betting the kid’s hatred of being used, being controlled, would make him agree even if he hated it.

He probably could have been nicer, though.

Jason’s eyes flashed, actually flashed a bright, ecto green as he shot John a glare that promised bloody dismemberment.

There was something else too, something that definitely wasn’t there a second ago but filled the alley now. Something hot and angry and powerfully vicious, something that wanted his blood.

If there were space to back up, he would have. As it was, he let his hand slip behind his back, ready to teleport. He had no doubt that any kind of binding would meet exactly the same fate his inquiry had.

Even in civvies, Jason Todd cut a menacing figure as he stalked the two steps across the alley to put himself directly in Constantine’s face.

“For fuck’s sake, I am not a fucking child! I don’t need you to hold my hand, I don’t need your fucking help, and I don’t need your fucking permission to live my fucking life!”

Constantine actually leaned back, his head brushing the wall behind him as Jason shoved a finger into his face, his every muscle taut with barely restrained violence.

“Like you just fucking said, you don’t know shit! So maybe, just fucking once, the whole fucking lot of you sit the fuck down, shut the fuck up, and stay out of my fucking way!”

This close, Constantine could feel Jason’s hot breath on his face. This close… something clicked.

He could feel Jason’s anger, projecting out of him in a way that definitely wasn’t human. Choking and visceral and absolutely nothing like the pulsating bloody rage that forced itself down his throat.

There was something fucking else inside Jason. Something that tasted of the Infinite Realms and wanted his head on a stick.

Something that wasn’t the Ghost King. Didn’t carry the touch of his claim.

John was about to teleport away, fuck Batman and all of Gotham, when Jason turned around sharply and marched out of the alley. Almost like the kid was running.

Slumping back against the wall, John Constantine closed his eyes and breathed in the city smogs, only happy that none of it actively wanted his blood.

Harley let Batman precede her around the milkshake bar to the parking lot at the back, a quick glance confirming that they were alone.

For the best, really; anyone present might get entirely the wrong idea.

Taking a casual roll of the wrist for added momentum, Harley took a quick shot at the back of Batty’s knee, stepping up quickly beside him to use the return swing to catch him in the gut.

Caught off guard, he crumpled, landing on one knee and glaring up at her.

“Harley…” he growled, and her eyes narrowed.

She’d done this the nice way last night. He hadn’t listened, so now they were doing it his way.

“Batsy,” she shot back, cutting him off quick and direct. Tapped her bedazzled bat gently off her other hand. “We had us a talk already this week.”

No specific times; not in an unsecured location. He’d know anyway.

From his silence, he wasn’t quite ready to admit it. But he didn’t try to rise. Conflicted, then.

Like that was new.

Harley pressed the bat gently under his chin, tipping his head up to face her.

“And yet somehow, despite you assurin’ me you’d listened real close, a mister Jason Todd is out here tellin’ me you tried to ban him from hangin’ out with his new boyfriend?” She asked sugar-sweet, her expression all danger.

She could just about see the moment it sank into his head. Even with his actual eyes covered, that cowl was still plenty expressive.

Kinda freakishly expressive. Not ideal for the crime fighting to her mind, but what would she know? She much preferred committing the crimes.

He tried to argue, frown so deep he’d have wrinkles within the day.

“This has nothing to do with that, the Fenton boy is dangerous to his condition-”

Harley cut him off by poking the end of her bat almost into his mouth, her eyes narrowed. And sure, she was bein’ delicate with his head outta concern for that concussion, but there were limits.

“An’ what d’you think ya know about Jason’s condition that a half dead kid don’t?” She asked sceptically.

Batman hesitated. If he pushed the bat away, they’d have an actual fight on their hands. One he might let her win, if he just needed the tussle.

She’d never known a man so eager to have someone put him on his ass, and so incapable of ever lettin’ it actually happen. Well, other than Jason.

Musta run in the family.

Bruce sagged back, sat on the cracked asphalt of the parking lot.

“Constantine believes that Danny’s energy may strengthen something inside Jason. Something dangerous,” he explained, still in Batman’s rough growl.

She was gonna get him a vocoder. Just for shits and giggles.

Fuck, was that why Jason wore the whole helmet for Hoody? Now that she thought of it, there was a voice changer in there.

Two cranky little peas in matching muscly pods.

She dropped to sit cross legged on the ground across from him, bat laying in front of her. Talkin’ again, take two. Time to make it stick.

“Have you actually talked to Jason about this?” She asked sceptically.

The eye slits in the cowl narrowed. Harley was not impressed.

“Have you talked to him at all, since he an’ Danny have been hangin’ out?”

Bruce glared at her for a moment longer. Did not fold his arms or pout, but she could tell he wanted to.

“I spoke with him last night. He’s irrational, angry, unwilling to listen to reason…”

“He’s sick of ya tellin’ him you know what’s best and not listenin’ ta what’s wrong,” Harley corrected flatly.

Watched his shoulders sink just a little. As much as he could deflate in the suit. Even his growl lost most of its sandpaper.

“He said Danny was taking him to a doctor. More exposure to the realms could make things worse. Kill him, or give the pit another chance to take over. I can’t…” he cut himself off, voice tight and garbled around the forced gravel.

Harley watched him for a long moment.

He’d come out in the suit. It had to be for a reason.

She couldn’t ask the questions that would break him apart in the suit. Couldn’t guide him through the revelations and the grief. Not if there was somethin’ else he had ta be doing.

Another damn time then. She’d get ‘im here again.

“Batsy.” Her voice was gentler this time, and drew his face back to hers. She made sure to catch his eye. “He already died. Seems ta me somethin’ in there never really let him go.”

She didn’t know much about the Infinite Realms… or anything at all, really. All this magic and mayhem and ghosts was fun an’ all, and she always liked to play, but it wasn’t her wheelhouse.

Didn’t have ta be. She knew how to listen to the professionals.

Bruce had stiffened, the mask of Batman pulling back, and she cut him off with a raised hand.

“An’ you only have ta look at Danny ta know that whatever all that is? Jason ain’t the first. Won’t be the last. Someone’s gonna know what went wrong, and Jason believes they’re helping him. You need to believe Jason.”

“But he could be wrong.” It was barely more than a whisper. Low and grinding and completely devoid of Batman growl, like it’d been pulled right out of his soul.

Harley gave him a gentle bop on the head with her bat.

“Then we deal with that then. But all ya doin’ by bossin’ him around an’ not listenin’ is pissing him off and makin’ him more likely ta run right off to these Realms. He’s not the sweet kid followin’ ya shadow anymore, Batsy. He’s a man, and he gets to make choices. And mistakes.”

This sure as hell wasn’t one of ‘em, but Bruce had never been good at taking that on faith. He had to be shown, and he’d never stop waiting for the tables to turn.

Which was how he usually made things worse. But he did at least know that.

He still looked mutinous, scowling across at her, so she gave him a slightly harder bop on the shoulder.

“Batman, listen ta me. I know you mean well, but Danny makes him happy. All Jason’s seein’ right now is that he’s happy, an’ you wanna take it away.”

That hit harder than any of her blows, though she wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t known him so long. His whole body stiffened, sudden hesitation in even his breathing.

Harley stared him down through it, then nodded in satisfaction as his shoulders lowered, just a fraction.

“I can’t lose him again, Harley,” he whispered, barely audible even less than a foot away.

She gave him an even harder bop on the other shoulder.

“Then stop driving him away. You ain’t even said sorry for the other night yet an’ now you owe him another apology. There’s always that things might go wrong; he might get hit by a car crossing the street. The only sure thing is that if you keep treating him like this?”

She leaned forwards, grabbing his chin and forcing him to face her. To look at her, and see how serious she was.

He was reluctant to meet her eyes, but even under the white outs Harley knew when she had someone’s attention. Good. He probably knew what came next.

“You will lose him, Batsy. And it’ll be no one’s fault but your own.”

Danny couldn’t have missed Constantine making his way up the street blindfolded and with his ears plugged. It might have been the whole “owned his soul” thing.

It also might have been the vortex of swirling magical attention that followed him like a cloud. The guy clearly wasn’t trying to advertise his presence, but to something like Danny…

Well, trying to hide that hard always caught his attention. A magical “nothing to see here” tasted like liquorice in the back of his throat.

Maybe the trench coat was actually cursed, in more than just the unfortunate fashion sense.

Part of him wondered if this had anything to do with them. The rest, well aware what his luck was like, wondered if he’d come barging into the restaurant.

It wasn’t like he shouldn’t be getting ready to go anyway, but he just… well, he was having a surprising amount of fun just hanging out with Waylon.

The guy was old enough to be his dad, but he was a great listener. Really encouraging, and he’d told Danny another couple of stories too, some from his darker times but all with happy endings.

He was probably trying to make Danny feel better after their talk, and it was definitely working. It just… well, he didn’t even really like thinking about Dan.

He’d asked Nocturn to put him to sleep not long after becoming king, to give the guy something to do other than stew in a thermos and plot vengeance.

Part of him still kinda expected that to bite him in the ass, but even if Dan broke out of Nocturn’s dreams, he couldn’t break out of Soup Time. For whatever reason he’d never learned Danny’s portal trick.

All the people who kept souping Danny were dead in Dan’s timeline.

Danny had almost been ready to wrap things up with Waylon (as little as he wanted to; they’d already exchanged numbers) when he felt Jason’s rage bubble.

He didn’t realise he’d blanked out until Waylon tapped the table in front of him with a claw, concern on his scaly face.

“Somethin’ th’ matter, kid?” He asked in a low growl.

Danny shook his head, staring down at the mostly empty milkshake and chugging the rest.

“Probably nothing… just got a bad feeling about Jason,” he explained with a shrug.

Reached out just a little, extending his senses but not aura. If Jason was already mad, that might send him over the edge.

Just as he reached out a sudden flare of fury made his hand clench, the glass he was still grasping shattering. Great, he had a hand full of milkshake and shards.

Shaking both free, Danny shoved his way out of the booth at the same time as Waylon, the big man going from concerned to battle ready in an instant.

For the first time, he almost looked dangerous. Danny was glad to have him at his back for the visual component at least; anyone who didn’t think twice about pissing off a tank like Jason wouldn’t even blink at Danny.

Killer Croc though? He got that name on his looks alone, long before he earned it.

They didn’t even make it across the bar, wait staff scattering to what were clearly well established positions in case trouble came in.

Trouble didn’t; barely.

Jason Todd did, all but vibrating with rage and steaming green with Pitty’s contribution.

Wait; steaming? Jason had mentioned the Lazarus pits did that, but Danny had never seen ectoplasm steam before. Could everyone see it?

Whether Waylon could or not, it didn’t stop him from hurrying forward, attention fully focused behind Jason for anyone following.

It was maybe the teeniest bit cute that even so angry he had a personal heat haze, Jason didn’t even think Waylon was going for him. His attention was fixed somewhere else; somewhere internal and probably bloody.

Instinct pulled Danny forward, Jason slipping easily into his aura and for a moment Danny felt like he’d drown in Jason’s rage. Answered it himself a moment later, stroking across the anger with worry-protect-safe now.

Jason twitched just a little as the aura washed around him, looking around on automatic until he faced Danny.

The rage softened just a little as he caught Danny’s eye, shoulders sagging. His jaw unclenched enough to talk; visibly enough that it must have been painful.

“Just fucking B again, treating me like a fucking child,” he spat, fists still clenched tight at his sides.

The effort it was clearly taking not to go out and start swinging kept Danny on edge, even as Waylon relaxed.

“Yer a long way from that, kid,” the big guy agreed with a low chuckle, still between Jason and the door, and rested a large hand lightly on Jason’s shoulder. “Want me to go have a word?”

Jason shook his head sharply, the smallest of smiles flicking across his face before the anger replaced it. Yeah, definitely cute.

“No thanks. You’ve only just got out, you don’t need bat trouble again already,” he said through gritted teeth, then nodded to Danny. “I just wanna get out of here.”

Danny nodded immediately, going from maybe-fight to flight. Which was kinda literally an option. Ghosts knew how to make an exit.

“Do you wanna take your bike or just disappear?” He asked simply.

Jason gave him a tight smile, barely layered over anger he was still struggling to control. Fuck, if this was what he’d been dealing with every day before Danny came along…

“Harley’s out back with Batman. I just want to fucking go,” he growled, shaking his head.

Danny nodded again, turning and crouching a little for Jason to hop onto his back.

“Phantom Express it is then.”

And yeah, he knew it looked stupid without Waylon’s confirming snort of laughter.

So did Jason, and the tinge of mirth that coloured his rage-burning-break in his head was more than worth looking silly.

Seemed like Jason was finally starting to trust his strength too as he hopped up without question, Danny not reacting in the slightest to his added weight.

And definitely not the way Jason now towered over him, or having those thighs wrapped around his waist. Nope. No horny in the aura today.

Giving a last nod to Waylon, he turned them both invisible and flew up through the roof, intangibility phasing them through at the last second.

Once they were high enough to be beyond any eavesdropping, he slowed to a stop, not quite looking back at his passenger.

“So, where do you wanna go?”

As Danny had kinda hoped, the sudden exhilaration of flight had tamped Jason’s anger back down until it was less a physical presence. It still seethed and boiled inside him, but it was losing steam.

About half of what he could feel from Jason now was just tired, and honestly? Couldn’t blame him.

Danny had been told how bad his pit rages had been, a visceral wrath that almost possessed Jason and made him lash out in all directions. And by all accounts? He still hadn’t seen the half of it.

It made his core ache just thinking about living with that much rage stuck inside. Feeling like that all the time… Danny had always respected Jason, but this? This demanded a whole new level.

And a little bit made him want to put Jason in a nice ectoplasm hamster ball so he could roll around the streets and nothing would ever hurt him again.

Gonna have to keep that under wraps too, since apparently Danny was losing his fucking mind all up in Gotham.

(Not that he’d never hamster balled anyone before. It was just usually a punishment for Tucker, or Wes if they were being assholes. Derogatory hamster balls were totally fine and not evidence of losing anything at all.)

The man himself was quiet for a long moment, struggling with just everything that was going on inside him.

Danny waited, turning them both intangible again just in case Jason could still be affected by the cold. At this height, it wasn’t exactly pleasant.

Made him side eye all those pictures of witches in dresses and long socks on broomsticks. Good way for the living to get pneumonia, in Danny’s opinion.

Jason didn’t even seem to notice, letting out a frustrated huff of air.

“We’ve gotta get Tucker home. If B is off being an asshole we can at least go to the manor,” he grumbled.

Danny paused for a long moment himself, considering another solution. After all, for ghosts it was simply unthinkable that they hadn’t even had an introductory brawl yet.

Whenever he got that pissed, getting the shit kicked out of him had always helped burn off the energy. But maybe Jason’s was different.

Danny was pretty sure he’d never been that pissed, not even at Pariah. Not even at Agent K.

Danny wouldn’t judge. For now, he nodded, turning to head towards the manor.

“We can go to Frostbite after we’ve dropped Tuck off. It’s been long enough, and you definitely feel stronger?” He offered, kinda hoping it might help Jason feel better.

The grunt he got in return didn’t sound convinced, but Jason also didn’t argue.

Neither of them were expecting to run into traffic in the Gotham airways though, at least not below airline level. Or to be interrupted.

With a sudden loud gust of wind, another black haired young man in a black leather jacket pulled up in front of them, looking around with a frown.

“Hey, I heard someone up here? Jason? Where are you?” He asked loudly, brows furrowing like he was still listening.

Danny’s confusion was better than words as Jason gave his shoulder a quick squeeze.

“Superboy the first. Tim’s boyfriend,” he explained quietly, and Kon’s head whipped around to follow the sound.

“Okay Jason, I know you’re up here, what the fuck?” He asked impatiently, which was when Danny remembered.

Still invisible. Hiding from the Bat and also concerned citizens. He popped them back into visibility with a sheepish grin, waving at… Connor? Or Con? No, kinda sharper. Kon.

It might have been a secret third level of alias, but Danny was pretty sure the bats had called him by a couple names over the various stories.

“Hey… sorry, forgot we were invisible,” he explained, trying not to laugh. Mostly at himself, but best not give the wrong impression.

Superboy’s eyes locked on them for a moment, narrowed briefly, and then his face broke into a grin.

“So, I’m gonna guess you’re Danny, Tucker’s friend that Tim has been gushing about?” He asked eagerly, reclining comfortably in the air. Then paused. “Well, gushing about Tucker. You were mentioned, though.”

That sounded about right.

Danny snickered and nodded, giving Jason a careful reshuffle. If they weren’t gonna be travelling for the moment, they could get a little more comfortable.

Thick thighs tightened around his hips and Danny very specifically did not melt into a puddle of goo. Not even a little bit.

“Yeah, we were just gonna go get Tucker and head out. Are you coming to see Tim?” He asked, kinda half wanting to wait around long enough and see what Tucker and Connor made of each other.

Kon if he was here in official capacity? But he wasn’t exactly wearing a super uniform, or logo. But Jason hadn’t mentioned a name, because Jason wasn’t a helper.

There was one easy way around that though. Bouncing Jason just a little more roughly than strictly necessary, Danny stuck out his hand.

“Danny Fenton, by the way. Since we haven’t been fully introduced.” He gave his best cheerful-but-totally-human grin. No point unnerving the first official alien he met, even if he was only half alien.

The boy reached out easily, giving him a firm handshake back.

“Kon El. Connor when we’re on street level. And yeah, I was just heading the same way when I heard you guys. Tim asked if I’d bring Tucker home though, he wasn’t sure what you guys’ plans were so if you had anything else to do?” He glanced from one to the other, so clearly not asking that he might as well have.

Could Kryptonians see the heat haze of Jason’s anger too? Or did he just know the family well enough, know Jason well enough, to know the signs?

Danny hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the other halfa. He could almost taste Jason’s indecision, holding each other this close. Bitter and tight in the back of his throat.

How much did he want to deal with his family, with that rage still burning inside him? Hell, they hadn’t even worked out what Jason would do while Danny took Tucker home.

Danny kept quiet though, leaving the choice up to Jason.

It didn’t take long.

Sucking in a deep breath, Jason let out a heavy sigh, a wave of pure relief washing over him.

The anger was still there, a hot little coal right between the dual cores, but it couldn’t drown out the gratitude-sorry-safe. Barely tempered it anymore.

His voice was still gruff when he spoke, still stiff with emotion, but Kon seemed to understand.

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks Kon.”

The younger man tipped them both a sarcastic salute, straightening in the air and turning towards Wayne manor.

“You’ve probably got like, a text from Tim about the change of plan, if he even bothered to mention it, but I’ll let him know I saw you. Seems like you’re sticking around, so I’ll probably run into you again, Danny.” He gave them both a cheery nod and flew away.

A tiny part of Danny was sorry that they wouldn’t be around to watch Tucker spiral when confronted with Tim’s boyfriend.

Tim Drake Wayne was a hottie, no point denying it, and he was easily Tucker’s second biggest tech crush beside the mysterious Oracle. With all that hero worship though?

Tucker probably hadn’t actually noticed he was also hot yet. He’d have been in love with him if he’d looked like a snail.

Kon El though? Kon El had exactly the kind of leather jacket, too cool for school, sculpted good looks that Tucker fell head over heels for on any gender.

(Danny absolutely was not a hypocrite, he’d be the very first to admit that he and Tucker had very similar taste in partners, at least as far as appearances. Tucker just preferred a little more “step on me” energy.)

In all the reminders that Tim had a boyfriend, no one had said his boyfriend was hot.

Danny didn’t mention it. It wasn’t like he’d have been able to fully enjoy things anyway; the night before had proved that, and Jason’s mood had been rosy by comparison.

He did offer just one comment though, watching Kon fly away thoughtfully.

“Should we have warned him that Tucker is going to spontaneously combust if Kon tells him to ride him?” He asked mostly hypothetically, fading them out of visibility and tangibility again.

It startled Jason into letting out a snort of laughter which became a cough with his last rasp of thinner air.

“You just did, with Kon’s hearing,” he managed once he could talk normally again, and Danny considered feeling bad about it.

That sizzling coal of rage was almost buried under amused-anticipation-relief.

Nah. No matter what form Tucker’s next wave of vengeance took, this was worth it.

“So, where to next?” He asked, again… kinda hypothetically. From Jason’s sigh the older man was just as aware of what the answer had to be.

“Let’s just fucking go see Frostbite. If I keep looking at the city something’s gonna piss me off again.” He sounded reluctant, resigned, but a slow creeping glow of amazement spread through his aura.

About to pop open another portal, Danny tipped his head up as far as he could and made them visible again, looking for his face.

“What’s up?” He asked, willing to put dimensional travel on hold if there was anything they might be able to do to actually help.

Jason shook his head to focus himself, glancing down at Danny and quickly looking away. Was Danny imagining that sweet pink blush in his cheeks?

“It’s nothing.”

Danny waited, secure in the actual empathic sensation of Jason warring with himself on his back. Finally he won (and also lost, as all civil wars end) and sighed.

“Just. I’ve never come out of the pit rage this fast before,” he admitted gruffly, glaring down at the sparkling lights of the city below. Like this wasn’t something to celebrate.

Danny let them fade back to invisibility, since Jason pretty clearly didn’t want to be looked at.

“Hey, that’s great news! We’ll just have to short circuit Tucker’s gay ass every time you need a boost,” he chirped brightly, and popped the portal open to Jason’s laughter.

In his heart of hearts, Bruce knew why Harley was taking him to the parking lot.

If there was any chance of witnesses, any possibility of being overheard, he couldn’t listen to her. Not in the suit. Couldn’t show what any of his rogues (who hadn’t met Harley) might misconstrue as weakness.

If there was a single place in the city which could be trusted to be unsurveiled, it was the parking lots to his rogues’ side businesses. They had their own professional courtesies.

He appreciated it, in his own way. The closest thing to privacy they could have outside the Batmobile at the moment (and even then his children could listen in).

The baseball bat had been… well, not a total surprise, she’d had Jason fetch it in front of him and it wasn’t likely to be an empty prop twice in a row.

Still, he wasn’t as prepared as he could have been, and the first two blows hurt. His fold to the ground was mostly genuine, though part of him was definitely leaning in.

Concussion be damned, he’d been taking an emotional beating this week. At least exterior bruises would show him when they were healing.

But he hadn’t had time after her warning to do anything but head to the meeting.

Had he?

All he remembered was the seriousness of her face, the weight of absolute certainty in her words.

He would lose Jason, because he himself had pushed him away. Because Jason didn’t think Bruce trusted him. Thought Bruce would take away his chance at happiness.

Maybe Danny had been right. Maybe Jason didn’t even know Bruce loved him.

Things were so much worse than he’d made himself believe.

He knew he’d risen when his alarm went off, giving him ten minutes to head to the zeta tubes. Found Constantine again in the alley, since the man was with him now.

Couldn’t remember talking to him. But that wasn’t unlike himself anyway.

There was a hidden zeta tube downtown, only just far enough to justify the Batmobile, but Bruce would rather not leave it to drive home from Freeze’s place anyway.

He set it to return to the cave as he climbed out, at the end of another dark alley. The sun was already beginning to sink, painting the city in yellow and gold.

Constantine tapped carefully on the hood of the Batmobile between them, then jumped back as the car drove itself away, swearing. By the time he finished dusting himself off, Bruce was watching him again.

“Are yer back in there?” The magician asked cautiously, his own voice rough.

Bruce took a moment to assess his colleague. Never exactly tidy, Constantine looked more dishevelled than he had before Bruce and Harley left him.

Jason’s checkup likely hadn’t gone well.

Of course it hadn’t. Not if Jason felt the way Harley said… no. The way he’d told Harley he felt. Because Harley asked.

Something deep and weary in him tried to pull his shoulders down to sag, but he ignored it with the aid of long practice. Just gave Constantine a stiff jerk of the head.

“Hn.”

The man rolled his eyes, turning and heading for the defunct phone booth disguising the zeta tube.

“Great, monosyllables. Well, since yer back, listen up.”

The results of his examination, if Jason even let him perform it. Still, maybe the man would have something? It wasn’t like he couldn’t have cast a few spells without Jason knowing.

“First of all, yer boy ain’t a revenant.”

That jerked Bruce to a stop, his brows furrowing as he turned to face Constantine head on again. The magician had pulled a cigarette from somewhere, likely because they were heading for the Watchtower.

Bruce didn’t bother trying to stop him. He was too busy trying to process.

Constantine didn’t look happy either, so this probably wasn’t actually good news?

“What do you mean?” He growled, stepping closer and lowering his voice to avoid eavesdroppers.

Constantine rolled his eyes, waved his free hand, and the smoke from his cigarette crackled briefly in the air.

“None o’ that cloak and dagger shit, Bats. No one’s gonna hear us. But the kid, Jason? He’s not a revenant. Not sure what he is, actually, an’ not too keen on lookin’ deeper.”

It might have been the longest Bruce had heard him speak without saying “fuck” since the Amity Park question came up. The fact that he looked distinctly uneasy made that less reassuring.

“Why not?” Bruce growled, a little grateful to be able to step back and away from the smoke. Harley had left his head be for the most part, but it was already pounding again.

Constantine fixed him with a slow, speculative look.

“See, here’s my issue,” he began, raising a hand to cut off a growled protest and pointing directly at Bruce. “You? You’re Mr Worst Case Scenario. Can’t stop pokin’ at shit til it gives you an answer, or bites yer head off.”

That was certainly true. It was something that Alfred… Selina… Clark… Dick… Diana… almost everyone close to him had complained of.

Bruce wasn’t convinced it was a shortcoming, but he knew it about himself. It had been an underlying theme this whole investigation; Constantine telling him things because otherwise he’d go poking.

So what changed?

“You’re not gonna like whatever I tell you. An’ I could try an’ temper that by lyin’, or I could treat you like a fuckin’ adult on yer promise the you don’t go punchin’ inter shit yer don’t understand.”

Constantine stared expectantly at him, taking another long drag on his cigarette.

Ah. Waiting for Bruce to choose an option. As if there was any doubt?

“I swore your oath,” Bruce reminded him gruffly, and Constantine rolled his eyes again.

“An’ I’m fully aware you’re a tricky piece of shit that’ll try and work around it the second it comes up. That’s why it’s generic. You hear about the Ghost King, you back the fuck off, shut the fuck up, and run. That’ll include any of yer precious reports.”

He took another slow drag of his cigarette, watching Bruce the whole while. Bruce stared back, unsure what he was looking for but determined that he’d find nothing.

Shit. So much for having Red Robin and Oracle prod around for him. Though he had been planning to warn them to be delicate.

It barely occurred to him that showing nothing might tell Constantine more than anything else before the magician sighed and shook his head.

“Listen, B. The shit you need to know? Actually, really need to know? Jason’s… safe. There’s not a damn thing in the Infinite Realms that can hurt him now, whatever he is. I’d even put money on him bein’ demon proof, with the wards on him now.”

And wouldn’t it be so, so nice to believe that Constantine had put those wards on him? Bruce could feel the wish for it, a flight of fancy he rarely allowed himself.

Bruce let himself indulge in the want to believe for about the same length of time as that ominous pause.

“What wards?” He asked flatly, the low rumble not exactly hiding how he felt about the situation, but since he’d almost rather yell, he considered it fair.

Constantine, again, was not impressed. He folded his arms and prodded at Bruce with his still smoking cigarette.

“See, there’s that prodding. I’m trying to do this the nice way, B. Give you answers instead of just shutting you down, but you aren’t gonna know everything without a couple decades of practice, and you need to get over that.”

The magician took another drag, closing his eyes tightly for a second. When he opened them again, he looked entirely uncompromising.

The stern professional Bruce had only seen previously in life and death situations, and ones getting worse at that. Was this situation that dire?

“I could speak a word and make you forget this whole damn thing. Four more, and you’d have no choice about droppin’ it,” Constantine growled, clearly bitterly regretting not choosing that option. Bruce’s eyes narrowed in response.

He’d clearly ruled it out, but he hadn’t wanted to. Whatever he didn’t want to tell Bruce, Constantine expected him to have a powerful response.

Which meant that is was very bad, but also that Bruce’s natural response would make things worse. He could work around that.

He chose not to address the remark at all, just waiting for Constantine to continue. The man stayed silent just long enough that Bruce wondered if he was changing his mind on trying to make him forget.

This was why he hated magic. But he’d broken through it before. No spell could stand up to intense, detailed scrutiny, and he would surely have plenty of clues to remind himself when the problem was with his own son.

Finally Constantine sighed, flicked the butt of his cigarette to the ground, and crushed it under one heel. He seemed to have come to a decision, new purpose under the fear he’d been hiding since he first arrived.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he sighed, heading for the zeta tube. There was just a little more spring in his step.

Bruce frowned and moved to block him.

“The wards,” he pressed, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. This conversation was important.

Constantine looked surprisingly chipper actually, raising his chin to give Bruce a sudden and almost startling smirk.

“Oh no, big guy. You had your chance to promise to behave like an adult, so we’re going with option three.”

He’d noticed Bruce’s lack of comment. Obviously, but Bruce hadn’t really thought he’d need to say anything.

Investigating was what Batman did. He knew how to do it tactfully, and without stepping on toes. He just wouldn’t promise not to do it.

None of which explained Constantine’s suddenly improved mood. It was almost the same satisfaction he’d show when he’d worked out how to pawn an unpleasant job off on someone else.

“And that is?” Bruce asked warily, suspecting he wouldn’t like whatever made this not Constantine’s problem. Constantine waggled a finger at him, like he was nothing more than a naughty child.

“I let you ask questions, after Wonder Woman promises to keep yer in line.” He said it with the finality of a lead weight, and it dropped through Bruce’s chest like one.

Shit.

Diana… Diana knew him far too well. If Constantine convinced her of whatever gave him this level of caution, she would camp in the bat cave to stop him if necessary.

Diana didn’t tolerate what she considered risk. If Bruce could convince her he was right instead… she could be a very useful ally. And she had always liked Jason.

Jason adored her. Wonder Woman had always been his favourite hero, even as a child. If Diana asked him, he might even agree to a consultation.

Bruce still didn’t know what had happened with today’s consultation, and apparently he wouldn’t even find out until they spoke to Wonder Woman.

He could extrapolate from that alone, frankly, even if Constantine wasn’t visibly rattled.

Bruce stepped aside somewhat reluctantly, letting Constantine step into the zeta tube first. They could technically fit in together, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood to play sardines.

The magician’s vehemence was troubling him, as was his conviction that Wonder Woman would be the answer. It was possible that Bruce had miscalculated the scale of the threat they were facing.

Whatever had warded Jason must be touchy enough to dislike any form of questions, and powerful enough to have its displeasure matter. And if it would be able to detect the questions being asked…

Contrary to popular opinions, Bruce did know how to temper his investigative instincts when called for. People only had to ask.

And.

Impress on him. A few times. That they meant it.

Honestly if they just told him why and what to expect, set some limitations and boundaries, it wasn’t like he was unreasonable. He just liked to verify data through his own sources.

Justice League Dark were a perfectly reputable source when he had to involve himself with magic. He could cross reference things between other members if he needed to check Constantine’s intel.

The unfortunate fact of the matter seemed to be that however little Bruce liked it, he did now need to learn more about magic. He’d been content to leave it to the experts for as long as he could, but…

But it now concerned one of his children. His second son, the one he’d lost.

At the very least, he needed to understand enough about the Infinite Realms to know how to keep Jason safe. What he would need, if there was anything they should be doing for him.

Not that the JL Dark had bothered to let him know when they thought Jason was a revenant. That might have been nice, even if apparently he wasn’t.

He’d already planned to start with Constantine’s attached reading on the Infinite Realms, and the Ghost King in particular for his new researches.

(Just the thought sent a shiver down his spine, and Bruce stepped into the zeta tube a little faster than necessary. Was that his oath? On just the thought?)

He could get information on these specific wards too. Cross reference with Zatanna when she was available. Perhaps contact Dr Fate.

The Justice League Dark had their own sections of both reference materials and secured artefacts in various bases around the world.

Studying those should be a sufficient compromise; he wouldn’t reach out to the Infinite Realms directly, not until the Anti-Ecto Acts had been dealt with.

Then they could get in touch with Jason’s mysterious doctor, provided he was willing. Have the dismantling of the acts as a show of good faith.

He’d have to ask Constantine about a sufficient apology too. And mention the acts themselves; somehow there just hadn’t been time today.

Stepping out into the Watchtower, Bruce was maybe just possibly anticipating the magician’s reaction, in a dark way. Let someone else have a bad day for a change.

The poor man had been so upset with the idea that Bruce might ask questions about the realms. The fact that the United States had declared a kill order on all its occupants was not going to go over well.

And all that sass and defensive aggression could be pointed at someone other than Bruce for a while.

Actually? He should wait until Constantine was sitting down. He could add it to his meeting notes, bring it up to the whole League at once.

There would be someone on site if the magician actually fainted.

Or if Bruce’s head actually exploded.

Bruce made a mental note to check their medical supplies and defences, in case there were any unpredictable reactions. He could swing by the infirmary before they got started.

Giving Constantine a quick parting nod, he turned away from the hall and walked quickly towards the infirmary. Just to check in.

Today’s meeting was just the Justice League, with Constantine as the sole representative of JL Dark; Dark’s members all seemed to know about the Infinite Realms and Amity Park already. They didn’t need the briefing.

They’d have to read Bruce’s meeting notes now though. The same ones he was fully aware most members of the League just ignored, considered wasteful paperwork.

They expected to be told directly if something was important. As if he had all the time in the world, and they had no personal responsibility.

The lights thrummed softly as he walked, all the little noises of the satellite’s systems ticking over in perfect order helping Bruce settle into his purpose.

Jason’s report had been thorough, and though Bruce could easily see the bias around his son’s words… in this case it was more than justified.

The wording used to describe Jason and others like him in the acts contained less expletives, but were no better. The veneer of detachment only made the disdain shine through more clearly.

As if his son were beneath contempt. If Jason were to be believed (and Bruce would confirm with Constantine and Shazam) then most of his family were ecto-contaminated.

It was almost nice to have a tangible problem to solve. An enemy he could face and defeat in simple, easy manoeuvres. It was unlikely to be a physical fight, but that hardly mattered.

The delicate machinations of politics were better left to Wonder Woman, Aquaman, damn near anyone but Batman. No, Bruce Wayne was far more influential in that arena.

A little money in the right places, press coverage, a big “himbo with a heart of gold” performance. They weren’t his preferred weapons, but he knew they were effective.

And for Jason, there was nothing at all he wouldn’t do.

Purpose and the time limit combined hastened his step, his cloak billowing around him as he stalked the halls of the Watchtower. The infirmary was empty; always good.

Their stocks were full, and there were three nurses on duty that Bruce had personally selected. He trusted all of them, and none looked worried at his visit.

Batman was well known for overpreparing. It always came in useful.

He was just making his way back towards the meeting hall, feeling markedly better himself with a firm goal in mind, when Superman rounded the corner ahead of him.

The man of steel was heading his way, worry writ large on his face. If he’d heard Bruce’s talk with Harley… actually, if he’d been able to overhear Constantine’s talk with Jason, that would be very useful.

Bruce prepared a few brief words to reassure his friend as succinctly as possible, and get them both moving back towards the meeting. They could actually talk afterwards.

He never got to say them. Superman ignored his little nod of greeting and hurried up to him, standing close enough that they couldn’t be overheard. Blocking Bruce’s path.

A thrum of dread wormed its way back into Bruce’s heart as he looked up into his friend’s earnest, deep blue eyes.

Clark kept his voice low, urgent and concerned as he whispered five words that shattered the world.

“Bruce? I can’t hear Jason’s heart.”

—————————

😈

Now quick, for extra bonus points, who can name what was supposed to happen at some point in the last two chapters and didn’t? This is your chance for a treat from the beginning of the next chapter

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 2 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer er @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation n @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna a @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai @greenpyrowolf @frivolous-pastel @honeysuckletook

Next chapter!

#danny fenton dead and loving it #dp x dc #dead on main ship #danny x jason #chapter 15 #i’ll take the highway #the highway to heeeeeeeeeell/The Ghost Zone #anyway rip to bruce wayne but i would simply not tell my son he can’t have nice things #i’m just built different #so is harley #and she has a bat #and a bat-shaped problem #fuck i’m so looking forward to the start of the next chapter it’s a joke i’ve been waiting on for months #hint: sam #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp

271 notes · View notes

lemmoniie · 3 months ago

Text

hey guys, sorry for not posting for a bit (as usual) _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):

i’m officially in school (and classes are already kicking my ass) so that means the same exact post schedule i’ve been doing already (crazy)

cool stuff below B))

i’m not only posting because that, though. i’ve actually written something on ao3 that i hope you’ll check out! it’s a transfem leo fic (who would’ve guessed), so if you have time, maybe check it out?? perhaps (*^▽^*)

here it is! (if you read it, then i hope you enjoy)

anyways, that’s it for me! i’m working on a few drawings for the girlie ever, so hopefully i finish them (and if not i might just post all the WIPs in one huge post)

#transfem leo #tmnt 2012

46 notes · View notes

kotemf · 3 months ago

Text

Codywan week - day 2

The thing I've written for day two of the @codywanweek. You can enjoy reading on Wattpad, Ao3, or here. Thanks to the all of you who give my short story a try. I'm aware that this is not a good work so don't be afraid to criticize.

Prompt: aro / ace codywan, "There are three things all wise men fear: the sea in a storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man." - Patrick Rothfuss - The Wise Man's Fear, beating rival suitors off with a stick

Cody loved Obi-Wan.

They were best friends. They could be something more. Only Cody could never be enough for Obi-Wan, he could never give what was expected of him in a relationship. It didn't matter that he loved Obi-Wan, that Obi-Wan maybe even liked him back. Cody couldn't do romantic relationships. It was hard to remember sometimes, especially when Obi-Wan was looking so damn comfortable sprawled on Cody's bed, scrolling on his phone.

Cody heard his friend snort. "Found something funny?"

"When I'm without you, I want to rip someone's guts out. Because that somebody might love you too, and only I have the right to love you Obi-Wan. I love you so much, you make me feel alive, and for longer than I remember, I've been dead on the inside," Obi-Wan read from his phone screen.

"What the fuck even is that?"

Obi-Wan was too busy laughing his ass off to answer. If it made Obi-Wan laugh like this, Cody might consider writing a bad love poem himself.

"It's from Maul. Should've expected his way of asking me out to be creative."

"More like deadly."

The problem with Obi-Wan was that he was handsome, kind, smart, overall attractive. He got many love confessions from girls and boys alike. Cody hated it. Obi-Wan never really expressed any interest in any of his admirers but that didn't mean Cody wasn't jealous. He guessed he didn't have to be jealous of Maul, there was no way Obi-Wan would even consider going out with that guy.

"Are you going to help me to think of an appropriate response?" Obi-Wan asked. It was ridiculous, really, Obi-Wan was the one who had the right answer to everything.

"Since when is a no not enough?"

"Since now."

"What about... 'Maybe you should hang out with a mind healer instead'?"

"Cody." Obi-Wan gave Cody his famous disapproving gaze. "Now that would be just uncivilized. It's hardly an appropriate answer."

"And his bad poem is not an appropriate way of asking you out."

"You've got a point. But still..."

Cody just wanted to go and shot Maul in the face. Too bad Obi-Wan would think that uncivilized.

It didn't take too long and Cody was already regretting his decision not to shot Maul in the face. Maul kept texting Obi-Wan. And as if it wasn't enough, Obi-Wan had the feeling that Maul was stalking him. He kept meeting Maul on random places and Maul would always try to initiate a conversation.

Cody finally snapped when he saw it with his own eyes. Maul, that bastard, hitting on Obi-Wan, his beautiful, innocent Obi-Wan. That was the last straw.

"Hey, Maul!" Cody yelled. Before Maul could fully turn around, Cody was already poking him with his new found sword - okay, it was just a random stick he just found but it served it's purpose - in the right direction: away from Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan wasn't all that happy with that. Cody didn't care. Maul deserved this and much worse.

"Why would you even do this?" Obi-Wan asked when Cody refused to admit he made a mistake. Because he didn't make a mistake. Chasing Maul away with a stick was the right thing.

"Isn't that clear?"

"No."

"Well, maybe because he was hitting on you? And stalking you? And didn't listen when you kindly told him to fuck off?"

"That is hardly your problem."

"Of course it's my problem!" Cody argued. "We are friends." You are the love of my life.

"Friends don't normally beat each other's potential interests with a stick!"

"Potential interest?! Maul?! He's a walking red flag."

"What if he wasn't? You've never been supportive of me developing a relationship with... well, anyone," Obi-Wan accused him. It wasn't fair. Cody tried to support Obi-Wan and his relationship. It wasn't his fault that none of the people around Obi-Wan were worth his amazing friend. He wasn't responsible for his crush on Obi-Wan either, that was purely the other's fault.

"Maul doesn't deserve you. No of your suitors do. And just so you know I'm not biased, I don't deserve you either." Did he really just say that? Well now, shit.

"What exactly did you mean by that?" Obi-Wan asked carefully.

"I-" What was Cody supposed to say? "It doesn't really matter."

"I think it does."

"I might have a crush on you?" Cody admitted. He continued before Obi-Wan had the time to say something. "Just forget about it, it's just a silly crush. We can- we can still be friends." At least Cody hoped so.

"Cody I- I had no idea you felt this way..."

"Obi-Wan, just. just forget about this, plea-"

"No, Cody, I- I have a crush on you too. Have had since... well, for quite some time," Obi-Wan confessed. That wasn't what Cody expected. And it also wasn't the happy end that it probably should have been. Because Obi-Wan deserved someone better than Cody. "We could- we could try to make this work."

"It won't work, Obi-Wan."

"You don't know that!"

"I do. You deserve better, Obi-Wan."

"I know you, Cody. You are the best man I could ever hope for."

"You deserve someone better, Obi-Wan. I'm asexual. I can't give you everything a proper boyfriend should. You deserve more than I can give you."

Obi-Wan looked to be considering Cody's words. Then he gripped Cody's hand. "Is this okay?"

Cody nodded.

Obi-Wan cupped Cody's jaw with his other hand. "Is this fine?"

"Yeah."

Obi-Wan smiled at that before gently pulling Cody into a keldabe kiss. "What about this? Is this alright?"

Cody's breath hitched at how close they were. If he leaned a little forward, their lips would touch. That probably wouldn't be alright. But this, just standing close, with their foreheads touching, this felt nice. "This feels good."

"This is all I need, Cody. Simple touches. I don't need anything more."

Cody felt his cheeks flushing, his lips curling into a dumb grin. "You mean... we could be together. Like this. Nothing more."

"Nothing more."

Cody loved Obi-Wan.

#star wars #star wars fan fiction #codywan week 2024 #codywan #commander cody #cc 2224 #obi wan kenobi #idiots in love #aromantic characters #fan fiction #darth maul #i cant write

14 notes · View notes

danganronpasurvivoraskblog · 1 month ago

Text

Mod Talks Mini:

//Hey, so I want to just send a little bit of a message to people, because there's something I need to let everybody know in a professional and calm manner, since I've been seeing a lot of controversy and messages online from people about this sort of stuff.

//Don't worry, this isn't anything serious, but I'm saying this for the sake of everyone's safety out there. It is kind of an edgy topic, so I will keep it under the cut.

//I don't really know how I should start this conversation, but I guess I should be giving a bit of backdrop for it.

//I recently found an old article online (several years back, I'm not even sure how I found it) talking about some other internet article pricks dissing Trey Parker and Matt Stone, the creators of South Park, for those who don't know.

//As everyone no doubt knows, South Park is notorious for its irreverent humor, often crossing lines with its dark satire, inappropriate jokes, and willingness to offend...basically EVERYONE. The show touches on sensitive topics like religion, politics, race, and SO much more.

//Parker and Stone have been judged harshly for their edgy, boundary-pushing humor, with some labeling them as cynical or insensitive, but the article I read was explaining that despite the controversial content they create, Parker and Stone are known to be down-to-earth and good-natured in real life. They’ve spoken about how their intent is often to challenge norms and provoke thought rather than to offend maliciously.

//And I can confirm this, because a few years ago, I watched this video that has always stuck with me, because these guys know what it is they're talking about, and it's why their shows and all the other stuff they make together are so successful.

youtube

//This however, also got me thinking about some people that I follow on AO3, and...Yeah, I know that's a weird jump, but let me explain.

//Archive of Our Own is one of the most prolific fanfic and writing websites on the internet right now, thanks to it's simplicity, and a few other aspects, but I realized that on that website, it is also grounds for some of THE most fucked up writing I have ever seen.

//I think we've talked extensively about LadyRedHeart on this blog before; very much still one of the BIGGEST examples of this. Most of her content consists of rape, pedophilia, torture porn, incest, and about every horrible variation of NSFW content you could think of.

//What I read in her stories, because I have read some of them, is repulsive. But...I've also come to realize very quickly that RedHeart herself is not the genuinely fucked person that she seems to be in her writing.

//And then there's myself. In the past, I've been harshly criticized for writing characters like Kuripa, and even my portrayals of some of the canon characters, even though it's all supposed to be my own take on it. I remember people being really upset when they found out what happened to Hibiki, and then Himiko, and I had to deal with a lot of shit from some people back then.

//But it's fine. It all worked out in the end.

//But then there's the complete inverse of this, and this is the important part, because this is some of the stuff we need to keep our eyes out for. But this is also the more sensitive part of the post, so avoid the next 8 paragraphs if you don't like hearing about this. But here are a few examples:

//Bill Cosby is an American comedian, actor, and producer who was a major figure in entertainment, particularly in the 1960s through the 1990s. He gained widespread fame for his stand-up comedy and for starring in shows like The Cosby Show. The show was groundbreaking for its positive portrayal of an affluent African-American family and earned Cosby the title of "America's Dad."

//Cosby's legacy was severely tarnished in the 2000s and 2010s when numerous women came forward accusing him of sexual assault, drugging, and misconduct. These allegations spanned decades, with many women claiming that Cosby had drugged and assaulted them, and he was eventually convicted for it.

//Jimmy Savile was a British television and radio personality who became famous for hosting popular TV shows like Top of the Pops and Jim'll Fix It from the 1960s through the 1990s. For much of his life, Savile was seen as an eccentric celebrity and philanthropist who raised millions of pounds for charity, particularly for hospitals. He was widely respected and even knighted by Queen Elizabeth II in 1990 for his charitable work.

//However, after his death in 2011, numerous allegations of sexual abuse came to light, leading to investigations that revealed Savile had been a prolific sex offender for decades. He abused hundreds of victims, both male and female, many of whom were children or vulnerable adults. Much of the abuse occurred in institutions like hospitals, schools, and even the BBC studios where he worked.

//John Kricfalusi is a 68-year-old renowned Canadian blogger, illustrator, and former voice actor and animator. He is the brains behind several popular cartoon shows in the 1990s and early 2000s. Kricfalusi is best known for creating The Ren & Stimpy Show, which ran from August 11, 1991, to December 16, 1995.

//In 2018, Kricfalusi's reputation suffered after Robyn Byrd and Katie Rice, two former Spümcø employees, accused him of grooming and sexual harassment. The pair went on to say that they had been minors at the time.

//And then of course, there's fucking Dan Schneider, a more recent example. He's a television producer, writer, and actor best known for creating and producing several popular Nickelodeon shows aimed at teens and preteens, such as All That, Drake & Josh, Zoey 101, iCarly, Victorious, Sam & Cat, and Henry Danger. His work was highly influential in shaping children's programming in the late 1990s and 2000s.

//However, Schneider has also faced controversy, particularly regarding his conduct behind the scenes. In 2018, Nickelodeon cut ties with him after a long partnership, due to I believe now confirmed allegations of inappropriate treatment of young actors.

//The point that I am trying to make here, is that judging a person's character based solely on the content they create can be problematic for several reasons. And it's not fair to judge a person based on what they do, or what kind of content they make, or for what audience, because in some cases, that can be dangerous.

//In their work, artists and writers frequently explore a wide range of themes, concepts, and emotions that might not always align with their own ideals or worldviews. Through experimentation and investigation, art can enable creators to push limits and question social conventions.

//The context in which content is created is crucial. Factors such as cultural background, personal experiences, and the intended audience can significantly influence the content. Misunderstanding this context can lead to unfair judgments.

//Many creators view their work as separate from their personal identity. Their content may reflect characters, scenarios, or viewpoints that differ from their own. This separation is essential for creative freedom and exploration.

//And people are multifaceted. A creator may have both admirable qualities and flaws, and reducing them to their work can oversimplify their character and experiences. Preconceived notions about a creator can lead to bias, impacting how their work is received. It's essential to approach content with an open mind, allowing for a fair assessment of its merits and messages.

//Content that sparks controversy or discomfort can lead to important conversations about societal issues. Engaging with such content critically can promote understanding and awareness rather than condemnation.

//Anyway, I ranted about this for way longer than I should have. tldr; Stay safe, don't judge people.

#Youtube #mod #mod talks #serious post #important notice

11 notes · View notes

aimwigs · 4 months ago

Note

hey! i came across a list of lud's boundaries a few days ago, one of which was "don't write fanfic about him or his friends" which is valid, but i wonder whether the person who wrote that was simply assuming or actually knew something that i didn't?? i wouldn't be here if i hadn't indulged once or twice, so this isn't an attack on you (clearly), you're just one of the bigger authors who has like public social media and i got curious?? i guess? the only time i've ever heard ludwig reference fanfic was like once on the pod where he made a joke about it. obviously rpf is inherently weird and a touchy subject but he doesn't seem to give that big of a fuck idk guy i feel like i'm a detective going around and questioning suspects lol my bad still no clue as to why i'm in your askbox

i mean i dont really know it might be something that he said a long time ago or it might be something that someone just decided but honestly he has opened ao3 and read fanfic on stream (and was pretty chill about it in the clip) so i think it's fine LOL but i keep all my works archive locked for a reason and my public social media is intentionally on a website he doesn't use + i don't maintag my fics, or really any of my posts for the most part. i'm big proponent of separating rpf from the people it's about (it's what hockey fans have been doing for ages) and avoiding pushing it in their faces. fanfic and ship content should be for the fans and not cross that border (and for the record, i don't think any of it is "real". it's fiction based on their personas). i honestly think donating to creators directly to ask if they're cool with fic is super weirdChamp and i'm glad that's a mostly bygone era lmaooo. i doubt they seriously give a fuck as long as nobody is like sending that shit to them.

#this isnt all at you specifically just airing my thoughts #answered #anonymous

11 notes · View notes

kaen-ace-of-diamonds · 27 days ago

Text

Written for @sailorboo for @rwbygotcha4gaza!

Word Count: 1,831 (oneshot)

Pairing: Qrow Branwen/Theodore

Characters: Qrow Branwen, Theodore (STR_ are hanging around offscreen)

Genre: Fluff/Hurt/Comfort

Summary: The first and last time Qrow and Theodore met.

~0~

“Good game, huh?!”

He recognizes the booming voice from the other side of the arena: this is the guy from Team TWSR who was giving Tai such a hard time in the shifting sand. (He’d left Qrow here early to find someplace quieter, complaining his ears were still ringing.)

“I didn't exactly mean to go out in the first round, but I guess it’s not so bad if it’s to guys like you. Where are you from, anyway? You don’t really fight like a Valerian.”

Qrow narrows his eyes, scanning for any trace of mockery or insincerity in Twister’s broad grin and bright, dark eyes. He finds none, but still.

“Hey, tough guy, fight’s over,” he growls. “Back up.”

Twister just laughs, as if that was a joke. “I kind of wish I’d been fighting you instead of your buddy with the ponytail! Like, boxers versus boxers can get boring. What’s it like to try and dodge a scythe like yours? It’s quite the weapon, you should be proud of it! Those extenders that transform it from the sword mode, they move out pretty fast, don’t they?”

In spite of himself, the corner of Qrow’s mouth twitches up. So Harbinger Version 3.0 (and counting) is his pride and joy and weakness all at once. Bite him.

[AO3]

#rwbygotcha4gaza #qrow branwen #theodore rwby #RWBY #kaen's fics

6 notes · View notes

madds-is-ace-trash · 2 years ago

Text

Oh guys guess what this chapters got music!

OK so um the music isn't for like the whole chapter but a part where Gotham sings are little baby a lullaby so ill link it in its section. Also i’m going to try to get it on to ao3 tonight now that my laptops working but well see.

(part 1) (Part 2) (part 3) ( part 4: guess what ya here baby)

We are on ao3 need now! https://archiveofourown.org/works/43353157/chapters/108979318

Summary: Turn out the kid can read and he loves books. Duke gets to meet his new nephew. Danny gets a chance to fell at rest. And Bruce Thinks Dick got some one pregnant.

Chapter 4: Of Stories and Songs

When Damian went to go get a book from the library this is not what he expected to see. His eldest brother Dick was sitting at one of the tables in the center of the room. The table was covered with books of all different sizes, seemingly all about space? He scans the room when his eyes settle back on his brother and then the small child in his lap. The boy, no older than 5, had an encyclopedia of constellations open on the table. He was pointing at the constellations reading out their names and turning to dick excitedly telling him all about the chains of stars.

“I don't remember asking for more siblings?” of course another black hair and blue eyes child ended up at the manor. Bruce did seem to have a type.

“Don’t worry baby bat, not a new brother, not on my watch!” Not on his watch? What in the world did Richard mean by that?

“I claim him, he’s mine, look at him he's a little genius, this kid knows like every constellation known to man,” he ruffled the kid's hair, the child blushing at the praise.

“I'm not smart, I just like space, '' Danny said quietly, staring at the floor.

“Danny! You're reading an encyclopedia all by yourself. That's insane you're like what 6? Your super-smart little dude, a super- Star you could say.” Dick and his insufferable puns, Damian didn't have time for this. He stomped walked over to the section he needed and began to search for a book.

He did not flinch when the small boy suddenly appeared next to him. He was heavily trained, he was just distracted looking for his book,he did not get snuck up on by a six-year-old. “ What do you want” domain hissed wasn't dick supposed to be watching this kid.

“What ya looking for?” The kid coked his head like a confused puppy.

“ A book for my book report, why else would I be in a library,” his tone was harsh. He hoped the kid would get the hint and scram.

“What's it called,” he stepped closer looking at the books in front of where Damian was standing.

“Well if you must know” he huffed,” it's called ‘Bud not Buddy’” like this kid was going to know where a book was in his family library seriously what was the kid thinking.

“You mean that one?,”Danny said pointing to a light tan novel on the top shelf . “I can get it”

“I do that myself tha-'' Damian cut himself short as the kid FLOATED up to grab the book.

“I gots it,” the boy chirps, holding the book with a smile stretching across his face.

Not a second later Dick comes running around the corner, “ He Dami have you seen Danny i was putting the books away and– DANNY!”

The boy was startled by the sudden shout and dropped the book, Damian caching it with no trouble at all, then the boy poofed from sight.

“Richard what is the meaning of this,” Damian stared at his brother demanding answers.

“Umm right ok so the kids, a meta, didn't know he could float but the invisibility is not new” Dick walked closer to where Damian was standing. “ Hey Danny, sorry I yelled I thought you were falling or hurt, I didn't mean to scare you.”

And just like that they popped back within the blink of an eye still just floating in the air. It was different then the Kryptonians, different then Jon, it was like gravity just didn't apply to him. “ So he floats great, is there anything else I should know?” Damian said arms crossed, just what he needed.

“ No i got him Dami thanks though,” Dick smiled at him grabbing the boy gently out of the air as if he was going to float away into space.

“I wasn't asking if you needed help i want answe–,”

“ Don't you gata book report? ,” Dick was deflecting, whatever, trouble his brother was getting himself into wasn't his business. Dick was right that Damian didn't have time to mess around.

Damian stormed off leaving the library, could this day get any weirder.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Danny looked at dick with a sad expression, if the kid had been light before he weighed nothing now, his ability to float was a new development, tack it onto the power list he supposed. “ Don't worry about him Danny, he's just prickly around the edges.”

“Like a hedgehog,” the boy said in all seriousness that made dick snort.

“Yes exactly like a hedgehog” the kid seemed to lean his weight on dick no longer feeling like he was going to drift off into space.

“ So Danny, you like stars and space, but what other stuff do you like?” the boy put a thoughtful expression on his face.

Then he finally answered, “ I like to read”

“ Yeah buddy I figured that,” dick giggled, “ what type of stuff do you like to read?”

“ Do you have stories about knights!” the boy asked excitedly, bouncing in dicks arms.

“Oh you bet! Come on, let's go, the round table isn't going to fill itself.” Danny giggled, his laugh soft and light like a bell.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Alfred entered the library to deliver lunch, he had not expected to see Dick,Cass and Danny sitting in a blanket tent. Cass and Dick in pillow armor as they fought each other with sticks. Danny sitting in the tent reading a book out loud and laughing as Dick and Cass would act out the scene that was just read in dramatic fashion.

A warm smile stretched across the old man's face, “ Ahem” the Al cleared his throat causing the group to turn towards the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt your little play but it's 2:40 and you really should eat something.”

“Oh yea Al thanks a lot,” Dick looks at the pillow shield in his hand, “thanks for bringing it up we um …got distracted.”

“ It's quite alright master Dick, but i must remind you to pick up after you're done,” Al gave the mess a look over, it wasn't excessive but the older ones should set a good example for the young master.

“You got it Al,”

“Yes Alfred”, Cass called out walking over to pick up a sandwich.

“Yes sir!'' Danny shot up and closed the book he was reading, gently setting it on a table.

“Thank you, please enjoy” the butler left, stealing one last glance as he saw Danny light up at the star shaped fruit. His smile widened, he had a feeling it might stick for a bit.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“And then we snuck in and got the bad guy!” her brother explained enthusiastically. The boy stared in awe at Dick and Cass. Somehow the day had evolved from reading books about knights, to acting them out, then to telling Danny child friendly versions of their escapades.

“They didn't even see you coming!? Did you turn invisible.”

“No, we're just that good,” she chimed in.

Cass didn't mind this, sitting in the library, telling stories to a kid who just seemed eager to be interacted with. Occasionally Danny would get a little too excited and start floating and they would have to ground him. They figured out they got the best results not actually pointing out the fact that he was floating but instead placing a hand on his shoulder or ruffling his hair. It seemed to remind the boy that gravity existed and he would slowly drift back down to earth.

“You should tell him about that time you and Duke busted that hostage case '' Cass prompted. That story was pretty tame and was easy enough to water down for a kid as young as Danny.

“Whos Duke?'' Danny asked, that's right they haven't exactly done a family role call yet for the kid.

“Duke is our brother, and he's actually a meta like you,” Dick told the boy.

“Like me!?”

“Yeah but his powers are different from yours,” Danny seemed to lose a little bit of the concern on his face. That was weird, she's not sure if Dick noticed it, but the kid seemed worried about the idea of someone like him?

“Yeah he's super cool!,” Dick went into story mode gesturing wildly with his hands, “ So me and Duke had to go this building filled with bad guys–”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Duke's head pounded his trip through the subway to get home was a mistake. He had pulled something in his arm nearing the end of his day patrol while disarming a drugged up bodybuilder trying to mug a group of teens. He didn't want to have to swing home on it, hence his tortues train ride.

He had already changed into civis so he just took the front way in. He was greeted by a weirdly giddy Alfred, the man had a wide smile stretching across his face. “ Why good evening, Master Duke, Your patrol went well I presume?”

“Actually All i think i pulled my shoulder, could you look at it, but can we keep the light dim I took the subway home and my head is killing me,” the warm slime on his face did not falter instead he just gestured toward the direction of the upstairs med bay. “ But of course master Duke, right this way.”

Alfred walked in first dimming the lights the most he could before inviting dick into the room. It was smaller than the one in the cave; it was mostly used as a first aid station for when they were in civilian situations, or couldn't get down to the cave. Duke took off his shirt and let Al examine his shoulder. He deemed it to be fine but wrapped it to help keep the pressure off.

“ I must warn you Master Duke but we do have a guest currently staying at the manor,” Damian probably brought Jon over again.

“Is it jon?”

“No, it seems that Master Dick has taken in a ward,” Al said in a cheerful tone, “ He seems to be a meta as well, but he is rather young and quite skittish it seems.”

“ No way!” Dick of all people, no wait actually he should have seen this coming.”What type of powers does he have?”

“So far we know he can turn invisible, seems to have slightly above average strength, and he can float. So far it seems he has little control over them and that they are tied to his emotions.”

Leave it to brother bird to bring home a little meta kid of his own, Bruce was either going to be pissed or extremely proud. He hoped for the latter. “ Does B know?”

“No, not yet,” the butler said but he didn't seem worried, “ I'm afraid he's been quite busy, but I'm sure he’ll like the boy just fine.”

“We’ll, where's my new nephew,” Duke hopped up and he couldn't wait to meet the little guy. It would be nice to have another meta in the family and on top of that Al said he was young so maybe he could be the cool uncle who helped the kid with his powers. Meta to meta.

“Master Dick and Master Danny are in the library, I do believe that Miss Cass is still with them as well,” hu so Cass was already in on it, “ I must warn you he's a little shy and doesn't react well to loud noises or expressions of shock.”

“Got it Al!,” He put his shirt back on and made his way up the steps to the library, screw his headache Dick brought home his very own baby bird!

“Please do tell them that dinner will be ready in half an hour,” He gave Al a thumbs up and off he went.

Duke lightly knocked on the door, if the kid seemed sensitive to loud sounds maybe it was part of his meta ability.

“Who is it?” a talk-whisper came from the other side of the door.

“It's Duke,” he answered back just loud enough to be heard. Maybe he wasn't far off, “I heard I got a new nephew?”

He could hear Cass giggle as she opened the door, gesturing for him to come in with a finger over mouth. Dick was in the middle of deconstructing what looked to be a blanket fort. A soft blue glow emanating from a point he couldn't see behind the table. He inched closer, using his stealth training to make as little noise as possible. When he got close enough to see over the table he had to squint his eye a little.

A small boy with raven black hair, with freckles that seemed to glow like stars, and with clothes 2 sizes too big laid asleep. His soft blue glow formed a halo around his sleeping figure. And maybe just maybe as he had only seen it for a second, a small crown floating above his head.

He was a lot younger than Duke had expected, Danny was sleeping soundly with a book about comets wrapped in his arms. Duke looked at his brother, who stared at the boy with the same look Bruce gave them after a day's work. Full of love, but worry all at the same time.

Cute isn't he? Cass signed after tapping on Duke's shoulder to get his attention.

Yhea, where did Dick find him? A sad expression stretched across his brother's face.

‘In an alley: Lots of blood’ Cass looked at the boy sleeping without a care in the world, ‘left by someone he called uncle CW in desperation, doesn't look good no body but’

“Too much blood for any one to come back from” Dick spoke breaking the silence,” Where ever he came from let's just say it wasn't good.” Dick took a shaky breath in placing the last of the tent except Danny's pillow into the basket. “ Kids covered in scars, he's so thin you can see his ribs and the worst of it,” dick leans against the table like it was a life line, “ He's got a huge Y shaped wound down his chest, like someone tried to vivisect him. Cherry on top is we have reason to believe that it may have been the boy's own parents.”

Duke just stood there looking at Danny then back to his brother, his expression begging Dick to tell him it wasn't true. He couldn't even bring himself to look Duke in the eye. Cass places a hand on Duke's uninjured shoulder. “ Al siad dinner will be ready in 30,” he couldn't bring himself to say much else.

“Ok.”

“Ok”

Dick scooped up the boy, the child laying snugly into dicks arms, they made their way to the dining room, a painful dreadful silence followed them all the way there. Al seemed to sense it, his smile faded.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dick tried to wake up Danny but it seemed once again the boy had fallen into a sleep he couldn't quite shake. “ Hey buddy, aren't you hungry? Al made dinner, can you try to eat something?”

“ Don’t look so worried Master Dick, I assure you a child sleeping this much in his condition is quite normal. In fact I'd say it's probably best if we let the boy rest,” if Alfred was not worried then Danny was probably fine. But it still made Dicks chest ache. It was only 5:30 and yet the kid was out cold.

“Ok i guess i'll just take him to my room? What if he wakes up and panics?” dick said, rubbing the sleeping boys back.

“He can read pretty well,” Duke chimed in, “ we can leave him a note?”

“That could work,” Dick thinks back to the letter from this CW guy and how it had been addressed to Danny, which means he must have known the kid well enough to know he could read.

“Yes well i'll shall await your return ,” Alfred gave dick a reassuring smile, “ and Master Dick try not to freat to much it's best to let the boy sleep and recover.”

“ Thanks Al,” dick gives a weak smile and Cass cheerfully follows dick up the stairs and towards his room.

He lays the boy down on the bed, the kid sinks into the pillow, he wiggles at the loss of warmth. Cass hands him a star patterned fleece blanket, “where did you get this?”

‘Aunties secret’ Cass smirks, making a lockling motion over her mouth.

Dick rolls his eyes and tucks Danny in, making sure the boy is settled before grabbing a pen and paper from his desk and writing a note.

Hey Danny,

If you wake up and need us we are downstairs having dinner. Just open the door and call for us. We'll come and get you. :)

Hope you slept well,

Dick

Dick set the note on the bedside table and ruffled Danny's hair, Cass graped his hand and guided him out of the room knowing he would linger. He softly shut the door and made their way down stairs. Just as they made it to the bottom Bruce walked through the front door.

This was going to be so much fun, dick ground to himself.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bright so bright

A lite over head so strong it made his eyes sting

He screamed

He begged

Pleaded for them to STOP his chest stung green and red covered their sleeves.

They didnt stop, didn't hesitate, he wasn't their son any more, everyone he had ever loved was in that room.

Chained…traped and all he could do was scream

Danny shot up tears streaming down his face, the small boy pulled the blanket into his face hoping to muffle the sound. What if they heard, he couldn't let them find him.

He transformed the shift pulling at the stitching at his chest, the cool sensation soothing the pain. He looked around the room he was in. It was large, it had a desk, a wall with things Danny couldn't quite make out pinned to a tack board. The closet sat shut on the opposite side of the room by the door, another door sat off to the side, a bathroom he presumed.

The tears did not stop his core morning fuzzy memories of things he didn't quite understand. His entire being screaming at him to run so he did.

Wrapping himself in the blanket he jumped through the window, falling a few feet before he floated up and steadied. His body heaved as he sobbed into the cold night. Jazz , tucker, sam, his core weeped, at the same time a part of him hissed Betrayal, mom, dad

A cold storm blew across the manor courtyard, clouds covering the dark sky. Danny hid against an old oak tree weeped, his cries aggressive as tears rolled out of his glowing green eyes. His fangs catching on his lips, His body cold even wrapped in the blanket.

With a gentle role of thunder, Gotham touched down her expression, sad but soft, as she gazed upon the glowing child that lay before her. She picks him up, pressing the sobbing child into her embrace. The boy continues to sob his body exhausted leaning against the women who had welcomed the boy with open arms.

“Its ok to cry,” she rubs the child with 2 fingers, her hands, gentle. She holds Danny in her arms like a baby. Danny is so small in her arms, it calms something in his core. It still cries, it still mourns but the overwhelming feeling of safety washes over him. She wraps the small boy in his blanket protecting him from the cold evening breeze.

With a wave of her hand the wind slowed, a low grumble of thunder spread out across the sky, She smiled at Danny, a smile so warm that he was sure he had only ever received from jazz. Then she took a little breath, and rocked the small boy in her arms, her voice soft as it stretched out towards the city's bay.

(Link to song)

“Wandering child of the earth” a lullaby for the child in her arms.

“Do you know just how much you're worth?

You have walked this path since your birth,”she gently wipes the tears off the boys star speckled checks, “You were destined for more”

“There are those who'll tell you you're wrong

They will try to to silence your song

But right here is where you belong

So don't search anymore” She gently walked back towards the manor, swaying gently.

“You are the dawn of a new day that's waking

A masterpiece still in the making

The blue in an ocean of gray” She looked longing off into the distance, her eyes full of hope for a future yet to be seen.

“You are right where you need to be

Poised to inspire and to succeed

You'll look back and you'll realize one day” She fazed through the wall of dicks room, looking around and giving the space and approving nod.

“In your eyes there is doubt

As you try to figure it out

But that's not what life is about

So have faith there's a way” The child in her arms had drifted off to sleep, his crown floating lightly above his head.

“Though the world may try to define you

It can't take the light that's inside you

So don't you dare try to hide

Let your fears fade away” she set the boy back on the bed, tucking him gently. She knelt down, rubbing the boy's hair.

“You are the dawn of a new day that's waking

A masterpiece still in the making

The blue in an ocean of gray

You are right where you need to be

Poised to inspire and to succeed

You'll look back and you'll realize one day”

“You are the dawn of a new day that's waking

A masterpiece still in the making

The blue in an ocean of gray

You are right where you need to be

Poised to inspire and to succeed

Soon you'll finally find your own way”

“Rest now, you are wanted here, let them guide your soul oh wayward child, may your heart rest upon the stars. You have gained my blessing, may my family become your own.” Just as fast as she had come, she faded an invisible hand wiping away the last of his tears.

The clouds subsided, his core was calm, he was safe, he belonged.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dick coming over to the manor wasn't unusual, he would often stop by to spend time with his family. No that wasn’t unusual , what was unusual was all of his children were being deathly quiet.

Cass and Dick giving each other worried looks, Damian seemed more aggravated than normal,Tim stared mindlessly at his plate, and Duke was fiddling with something under the table. Not even Alfred had said much, which was strange. Normally the man would be prodding the family to start a conversation to break the tension but nothing not a word.

“So Tim, you finished that project you were working on,” Bruce attempted to break the silence.

“No but I'm close, should be done by tonight.” Tim rested his head on his hand playing with a pea with his fork

“Hm, and you duke? Any trouble on patrol today?”

“Nope all good, just mugging” Duke took a hefty bite of potatoes.

“Damian and you?”

His son responded, never looking up from his plate, “My day was fine father, just a book report that I needed to complete. It was no problem at all.”

Ok now he knew for sure something was off, he scans the table once more looking over all his children, stopping at his eldest. Dick had not looked at him once since he joined the table. Something was going on and he was going- “Bruce I know that face please,” his son interrupting his train of thought.

“Look I'm going to just rip the bandaid off because the tension in this room is so thick baby bat can slice through it,” Cass set a hand on Dicks shoulder. Whatever was going on, she was involved or at least knew about it. Judging by everyone's behavior he knew at least everyone , including Alfred, at least had an idea about what was going on. “ I um….. have… a kid now.”

The utter look of shock on Bruce's face was one the family had only seen a few times, and without the partial protection of his cowl it was even worse. Who? How? Okay he knew how but how had he not known dick was in a series enough relationship to warrant the creation of a child. Dick hasn't dated anyone long term sense Barbra and it definitely wasn't Barbra he had just seen her she would have said something.

“Who?” Bruce finally managed to blurt out, “ I didn't know you were in a serious enough relationship to get someone pregnant?” He knew his kids would move on and start families of their own one day but like this? He hadn't even met the girl.

“NO ONE'S PREGNANT,” Dick blurted out face beet red, his sibling laughing at the accusation.

“O yea, kids like 6,” Duke chuckled out. This was not reassuring to bruce at all, Dick was 22 if the child was six than that ment:

“YOU GOT SOMEONE PREGNANT AT 16!” Bruce stood up out of his chair,” Who!? When?!” his jaw locked shut staring at his son who was frantically scrambling to find words.

“I UM… It's not like that…I didn't,” Dick continued to trip over his words, not how he pictured it would go, “ I kinda just picked him up out of an alley!”

And at this the giggles turned into manic laughter even Alfred was laughing to himself. “ It seems that Master Dick had inherited some of your more…child cedric tendencies im afraid.” Placing a hand on Bruce's shoulder guiding him back into his seat.

Cass and Duke made their way over to their brother who had his face buried into his hands. A grin stretched across Casses face, “ You should be proud B, he's caring on the family legacy.”

“Yhea the kids got blue eyes with black hair and everything” Tim had chimed in.

“ Yes father i do have to agree that he seems to meet your adoption criteria” Damian stated arms crossed annoyed glances target at his giggling siblings.

“Ahem” Alfred cleared his throat from his spot behind Bruce. “Yes, well with that out of the way,” a smile caching the corners of the man's lips, “ I do believe we sound discuss the boy's condition.”

With a nod, Dick, Cass, Duke, and Alfred filled the rest of the bats present in on danny's situation . How he was found, the note, the kids' constant state of tiredness, the kids' injuries,how Danny's own parents might be involved, how he seemed to be rather intelligent despite his age, and how he was a meta.

The same look from the start of dinner returned to Bruce's face, the gears in his head turning. He was going to solve this, someone in his city had been harming a child to such a degree and had slipped under his radar. He would not stand for it, but first he had to see the kid. This boy he was hearing so much about, who his son had just met but yet had a fond look on his face when explaining the boy's love of stars. His son had taken in a ward and that meant he had a grandson. O lord, he had a grandson.

“So when am I going to get to meet him?,” and as on cue.

“Hello? Anyone” a small voice called from upstairs, causing Dick to jump up from his seat.

“Sooner than I thought.”

@fisticuffsatapplebees

@terzatheunderscorerima

@sweet-itachi-lovin

@undead-essence

@blacksea21090

@markus209

@nonbinary-disasterter

@starkcravingmad

@ashxshadow

@aikoiya

@rainbowbunny0159

Chapter 5 (most likely to be titled “ A scrambled egg” ) will be Bruce and his stubborn butt not realizing rushing a traumatize child with question was not a good idea. So stick around!

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dp #danny phantom #danny fenton #batfam #batman #i write some times #ms&sc #ghost king danny #deaged #baby danny #phandom #reveal gone wrong #hurt/comfort #music #fanfic #fanfiction #thanks for reading

308 notes · View notes

turtlethebean · 3 months ago

Text

CC OC Week Day 1: Family

Read it on AO3: Family Campfire - Turtle_The_Bean - Criminal Case (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own]

OCs: Cherri Arrow-Shepherd and Michelle Clayton-Scott

“It’s a bit weird. Y’know, it’s my first time in America, and now I’m meeting your family for the first time. I mean, my first time meeting you in person wasn’t too long ago, and you met my family then.” Michelle Clayton-Scott commented as she and her partner, Cherri Arrow-Shepherd, walked through the woods to where Cherri’s family were currently situated.

“Hey, there’s a first time for everything,” Cherri playfully nudged their partner, “But I think our family dynamic is a bit simpler to understand compared to yours.”

“Uh-huh, and how many adopted siblings do you have again?”

“…Four…”

“And how many of them look like you?”

“I mean, Felix and I kinda look alike. To be fair, the bar is low. He’s the only one I share a skin tone with…roughly anyways, but I did dye my hair to look kinda like Gwen, and I’ve taken style inspiration from Hope.”

“What about…oh, what was the other guy’s name…Luke?”

“Oh, Luke? I guess growing up adopted by two dads is something we have in common, although I think he calls them his “foster dads”, so I don’t know if he was actually adopted. Anyways, we’re here now.”

Cherri pushed both of them through a bush to reveal a small campsite. There were four different RVs, one of which was their own, that they shared with Hope. Two men, one muscular and bald wearing a blue apron and t-shirt and one wearing a red sweater and missing one of his arms, sat at the campfire, waving at the two as they approached.

“Hey, Pops. Hey, Dad. This is my girlfriend, Michelle.” Cherri introduced the two men as they and Michelle both sat down on a bench.

“Ah, I’ve been wondering when we’ll get to meet her,” The bald, muscular man smiled, extending a hand for Michelle to shake, “I’m Ben Arrow-Shepherd, and this is my husband, Jacob Arrow-Shepherd.”

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Michelle grinned widely.

“I’ll call the rest of the group when I’m finished cooking dinner. For now, both of you kids, just relax and enjoy the fire.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Please, just call me Ben.”

“That is like half of one of my dad’s names, so no, thank you.”

“Oh, you have two dads yourself?” Jacob, the man in the red sweater, cocked one eyebrow as he took a sip of his beer.

“Yeah, I do. They’re actually in the city right now, meeting up with one of my dad’s old coworkers. I call them my aunts and uncles even though they’re not really my aunts and uncles.”

“Don’t worry about that. Cherri does the same with Priya and Zander.”

“Did someone call my name?” An Indian woman with long, brown hair emerged from one of the campervans wearing a yellow top and a white coat.

“Sorry, Aunty Priya, we were just talking about how Michelle calls her dad’s old coworkers her aunts and uncles, and Dad pointed out how I do the same with you and Uncle Zander,” Cherri explained, a little flustered by Priya’s sudden appearance.

“Oh, your girlfriend’s here. I never knew that. Zander, come say hi.”

A man with black hair and a matching leather jacket emerged from the same campervan as Priya did. The couple then sat beside Jacob to enjoy both the warmth of the campfire and the conversation that was happening.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Michelle. We’ve all heard so much about you over the…how long have you two been dating again?”

“Two years. We started dating around the same time I started high school, remember?”

“That’s right. Now, I remember. What about you, Michelle? Are you in high school as well?”

“Yeah, I’m actually doing my last year of my GCSEs next year. I’m considering whether or not I wanna do my A-levels afterwards.” Michelle explained.

“I’m assuming your GCSEs are similar to our SATs?”

“I’d say so. I don’t really know much about the American school system.”

“It is pretty much the same as the SATs.” Cherri clarified.

“See, this is why I love your kid. They’re so much smarter than I am.” Michelle chuckled, nudging Jacob playfully.

“Hey, you might not be the smartest academically, but I’m sure you've got some other smarts,” Ben reassured her.

“I mean, history is pretty much my passion. I love learning about ancient civilizations and how people used to live back then.”

“Oh, so I’m sure you’d get along well with Felix.”

“Well, I actually hope I can get along with everyone here.”

“Speaking of which,” Ben stood up straight as he removed the hot dogs from the grill in front of him, “Hey! DINNER’S READY!”

Once Ben finished his sentence, several people came out of the campervans. Michelle could recognise some of them, but others were a bit more unfamiliar. Another couple sat on the empty bench opposite Ben and Jacob, while a boy who came out of the same RV sat next to Cherri. Hope, pretty much the only one she recognised given that she and Cherri shared an RV, sat next to Priya and a man in a wheelchair pulled up beside the new couple.

“Michelle, this is Gwen and Pierce and their son Arthur, who’s the same age as us. I’m sure you know Hope since we share an RV, and that over there is Felix.” Cherri explained, pointing to each person as they sat down.

“Wow, that’s certainly a lot of people.” Michelle chuckled nervously as she took her plate from Ben. She took a look at it, noticed the hot dog and baked potato, and moved the hot dog onto her partner’s plate.

“It’s not as much as your family. Remind me of how many- hey, what’s wrong with the hotdog?”

“Oh, nothing. I just forgot to mention that I’m vegetarian.”

“That would be my fault, actually, but since that's the case, here.” Cherri grabbed their baked potato and put it on their girlfriend’s plate.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, I’m sure Pop will throw on another baked potato if we need it.”

“I think two hot dogs is enough food for you, Cherri, especially with the lunch I heard the two of you had.” Ben laughed.

“Yeah, I had a big lunch. You didn’t have much, though, Michelle.”

“The salad was the only thing I could eat,” Michelle jokingly whined, “Besides, I’m sure all this potato will fill me up.”

“Oh, trust me when I say Ben always gets the best potatoes for whatever the time of year is.” Felix, the man in the wheelchair, chuckled as he picked at his potato with a fork.

Michelle turned to look at Felix and almost fell out of her seat. She was not expecting him to be missing almost everything below his hips. She tried to collect herself, which elicited more laughter from Felix.

“Girl, you’re fine. You can ask if you want.” He responded, throwing his head back in laughter.

“Oh, okay…so…what happened to you?” Michelle asked, feeling bad for asking but feeling somewhat comforted by his approval.

“Got chomped on by a lizard man when I was in college. Y’know, normal college stuff.”

Michelle laughed along with the joke about his backstory before she slowly realised that he wasn’t exactly joking about the “lizard man” part. She looked at Cherri for an explanation for what exactly was happening.

“Guys, I…I haven’t exactly…explained everything to Michelle.” Cherri looked around, a little flustered.

“Cherri, what’s going on?” Michelle asked, confused.

“Michelle, I…I need to tell you something. You see, supernatural creatures like werewolves, vampires, and even demons are all real. That’s actually how I got the scars on my face, and my dad lost his arm and his wife. Don’t worry, though; not all of them are bad. Priya and Zander are both werewolves, and Pierce is a vampire. Oh, um, Hope is also a demon, but she is the one who killed the demon queen back in the day…or so I’ve been told.”

Michelle froze for a minute there. She could not believe this. This had to be a joke, right? She was just being pranked. Surely, the camera crew would come out of those bushes any minute now.

But there were no camera crews. There was no one pointing and laughing at her for falling for a silly prank. There was a sombre silence, indicating that this wasn’t a joke. The only thing she could muster up was a small “oh” in response.

“Don’t worry, kiddo,” Jacob scooted over to their bench and put his stub of an arm on her back, “That’s a completely normal reaction to finding this out. Most of us have had that reaction at some point, and most of us have lost something because of the supernatural. You’re lucky to figure this stuff out on your own.”

“Is…is it just an America thing or?”

“From what we know, there tend to be supernatural creatures all over the world. An old friend of mine was from Romania.”

“An old…supernatural friend of yours?”

“Yes, he was a vampire.”

“W-wait, aren’t vampires supposed to be immortal?”

“Not if you chop their head off. That’s what I threaten Pierce with sometimes.” Gwen joked.

“Do you actually?”

“Nah, I love him too much to do that to him.”

“Well, erm, this is certainly an eventful evening. D-don’t worry, I’m not leaving, but…thanks for telling me all of this.”

“As I said, it’s best you know now before something happens to you.” Jacob reached over his other arm and gave Michelle a pat on the shoulder.

“True, I don’t know what I’d do if Cherri got killed on the job.”

“Oh, they’re not allowed on the job since their face got slashed. Not until they’re an adult, at least.”

“I can still defend myself if someone attacks me,” Cherri stuck their tongue out at their dad, “Anyways, pops, any chance I can get another baked potato?”

“You’re not full after those hot dogs? Alright, one more baked potato coming right up. Anyone else?” Ben sighed, getting up from his seat and stretching.

“I’ll take one, sir,” Michelle spoke up before remembering Ben didn’t like being called Sir.

“At this point, kid, just call me Pops. You’re part of the family now, after all.”

#criminal case #criminal case oc #criminal case original character #oc #original character #ccocweek2024 #jacob arrow #ben shepherd #jacob arrow x ben shepherd #gwen harper #hope newman #priya desai #felix reed #zander stark

7 notes · View notes

bonniesbowtie · 1 year ago

Text

“Just stop talking, you silly”

Her head was gently resting on his chest. He wrapped his right hand around her neck and some of her back, next to her shoulders. It was soft. It was light.

Mike was the first to wake up and, the moment he realized he was hugging her, he restrained himself. “Oh my– “ he thought, as he blushed a little and tried to recompose himself. Vanessa was still sleeping, as anyone at 6 am of a Sunday would be or, at least, anyone whose sleeping habits weren’t heavily affected by the memories of your little brother being kidnapped.

They had fallen asleep while watching a corny comedy show the night before. Of course, the blanket-sharing sleepover wasn’t planned; they were just friends, that is, if taking care of someone you’ve known for 2 weeks in your own house could be qualified as such.

The early sunset orange reflected in Vanessa’s blond hair as if God had painted it just to match her strands. Mike couldn’t help but admire it for solid 3 seconds while he tried to put a pillow under her head and, at the same time, not to wake her up so she wouldn’t notice the position they were in. What would she think?

Thankfully, Abby’s bedtime is around 9 pm, and their comedy night had only started after 11 pm, when she was already dreaming about being a princess or whatever kids her age dream about. And, also fortunately, children aren’t very fond of arousing as soon as the day starts. They were alone, at least for some time.

Unfortunately, Mike wasn’t very successful at his task, and ended up waking the former officer up. “Hmmm…” — Vanessa murmurs as she slowly scrubs her eyes, barely awake. As soon as she processes what happened, she gets up and recomposes herself as if her head — and body — were never there.

Mike sees that she basically had the same reaction as him. “Hey, it’s okay” he says as he gently smiles as if he were saying “you can do this whenever you want to”, but Vanessa is too flushed to even look at him. “I don’t even remember falling asleep, I guess these pills I’m taking weren’t lying about the sleepy symptoms, sorry” she tries to explain herself, although she is still kind of flushed for using him as a headrest.

“Don’t worry. It’s still early in the morning, you can keep on sleeping… o-on the bed by the way if you want to” he middle-phrase realizes the possible double interpretation what he just said could have as she raise a little of her left eyebrow and laughs at him. “I mean there’s no problem if you don’t wan’t to go there I’m just saying because of the comfort but—“ he is surprised with Vanessa resting her face on his chest again and hugging him tighter. He paralyzes for 1 second and, as his cheeks go completely red, his lips are touched by white, soft hands, in a “shhh” way. “Just stop talking, you silly.”

[…]

Hey, guys! I’ve been working on a fanfic, here’s the link on ao3 if anyone wants, it already has two chapters

#schmelly #fanfic #fnaf movie #fluff #mike schmidt #vanessa shelly #first fanfic #first post

27 notes · View notes

flutteringfable · 7 months ago

Text

hi everypony!! i finally finished that arin and sora thing ive been working on, here it is! i love writing cuddles so so much; i hope reading this makes you feel as cozy as i did writing it hehe. there’s no spoilers as this takes place in like early-mid dr season 1!

crossposted to my ao3, as per usual :3 it’s only visible to registered users to keep yucky ai scrapers off my work.

if you’d like to listen to the song i used for the title, you can find it here!

the moon had already fully risen by the time arin trudged back inside from training. he yawned, and almost tripped over riyu as the little dragon weaved between his legs in an almost catlike fashion. he smiled, crouching down to pat riyu’s head, but almost immediately regretted it as the ache of his muscles roared in protest.

“hey, arin,” sora chirped as she sauntered over from the living room. “i was wondering when you were gonna turn in for the night.”

arin groaned as he slowly stood back up. “sorry i was out for so long; i got so focused on training that i lost track of time.”

“why am i not surprised?” chuckled sora. “i left you some food on the counter; you might wanna heat it back up.”

riyu perked up at the mention of food. sora shot him a look of disapproval, which did little to reduce the thump-thump-thumping of the little dragon’s tail agaist the wooden floor.

“thanks,” arin replied. as he walked to the kitchen, riyu followed eagerly.

after reheating the leftovers sora left for him, arin slumped onto the sofa. sora joined him and leaned casually against his side, as she often did. riyu sniffed a few times at arin’s plate, but eventually realized he wasn’t going to get any and instead hopped up to lie with his head in sora’s lap.

“you should start setting reminders or something; this is like, the fourth time this has happened? if you overwork yourself this often, it’ll be harder to recover and improve your skills.” sora sighed.

arin nodded sheepishly. “i know, but i just get so focused on perfecting a move or improving my stamina that i just kinda… forget? like, i’ll register the sun going down, but then i’ll practice for another few hours until i finally realize how late it is.”

even riyu let out a soft grumble at that. sora smiled, patting his head.

“i know, buddy. what are we gonna do with this guy?” she teased.

arin chuckled. he and sora sat in comfortable silence for a bit, and riyu dozed off as he was pet. arin couldn’t help but be reminded of their time before lloyd had rescued them, when they were both still living in the crossroads with little to worry about besides winning races and pie baking competitions.

in the span of just a few days, the course of his and sora’s lives had changed drastically, mostly for the better. there was still the fate of the world to worry about, of course, but putting that aside, arin had decided he was incredibly lucky to have met his hero. he sighed, slouching further against sora.

“you good?” asked sora, patting his shoulder.

“mhm,” arin nodded. “just thinking about everything that’s happened. it still feels so surreal to me that we’re training under the green ninja.”

“yeah. i didn’t even know the guy that well and i’m still kind of in awe.”

arin grinned. “so…. you’re saying think he’s cool?”

“…yeah, i guess i am,” sora sighed, smiling exasperatedly at her friend. “i still think you’re a nerd for knowing so much about him, though.”

she grinned, poking his head teasingly. arin pouted back before setting his plate on the coffee table. he leaned back against sora and reached over to pat riyu’s head.

footsteps came from down the hall, and lloyd poked his head into the room. riyu slowly raised his head, letting out a small yawn as he looked in lloyd’s direction.

“hey, you two. it’s getting kinda late, you should probably head to bed soon.”

sora shot a thumbs up at lloyd. “will do.”

“i mean it,” lloyd insisted, a knowing look on his face. “no sneaking out. you guys need as much rest as you can get.”

arin glanced away sheepishly as he rubbed his eyes, replying, “we won’t. honestly, i don’t even have the energy to do anything else tonight.”

“yeah, i’ve noticed you training a lot more recently.” lloyd looked concerned. “you’re doing just fine, arin. you should let yourself rest more.”

“i’ll try and remember to. thanks, lloyd,” arin yawned.

lloyd smiled gently. “alright. go get some rest; i’ll see you both in the morning.”

when lloyd left, arin shifted and sat up. he turned and hugged sora, nosing into her hair sleepily. she returned the hug and patted his back.

“‘night, sora,” he mumbled.

“‘night. goodnight to you too, riyu,” sora added, giving riyu a chin scratch.

“‘night, riyu..!” arin echoed softly as he sat back up.

he slowly stood up and stretched with a groan before heading to his room.

#fable writes 💫#arin ninjago #sora ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #lloyd garmadon #ninjago #me when the family is found amirite folks (implodes /pos)

11 notes · View notes

velvetstar01 · 5 months ago

Text

Hey fellow SSTWL enjoyers. Guess what I made? That's right, I started writing my own Design rewrite which you can access on Ao3!

Also here's a link!

Feel free to leave comments on the fic once you're done reading it, I would love to hear any thoughts you guys have.

#sstwl #scary story time with liam #design sstwl #ao3 #fanfic #archive of our own #ao3 link #link #design scary story time with liam

9 notes · View notes

chicago-pd-is-weird · 1 day ago

Text

Day 5: Gunshot Wound(s)

@the-three-shits-whump

Read on AO3 at the link above or find it below the cut:

It had been a normal day, Hank, Al and Trudy walking home from high school. Or rather, going to Hank’s house, since his mother was the most hospitable out of their parents. Al spent a lot of time there, more than at his own house. Trudy spent only half her time there since her dad was a good guy, just old fashioned. Ever since her parents divorced and her mother ran off with another man, she spent most of her time with her dad, who liked things a certain way.

The three talked about anything and everything as they walked down the street. The two boys had raggedy backpacks slung over their shoulders, ones that would get them by for the rest of the school year before truly needing new ones. Trudy, on the other hand, had a very nice cross-body knapsack her father had gotten her. “Only the best for my little girl,” he had told her. Truthfully, Trudy was spoiled, but she didn’t like to show it like the other girls did at school. In fact, she liked hanging out with Al and Hank more. The kids with no money were the most fun.

As they walked down the street, Hank sighed. “That math test was hard. I mean, did you guys read the third question? I couldn’t even understand it.”

“It was a geometric proof,” Trudy replied. “That’s like… literally the hardest thing in geometry.”

“I like those,” Al replied with a shrug. “They’re like a puzzle to me.”

Hank hummed. “Maybe you should do my tests, Al, you’re always better than me.”

“Me too, and I study hard for them,” Trudy added.

Al shrugged. “I dunno, it’s just… easy, I guess.”

Hank laughed, shaking his head. “I’ve gotta find my thing. It’s definitely not English or math.”

“You’re pretty good at science, aren’t you?” Trudy asked.

“Earth science, that’s it. That’s cause it’s all rocks. I think most people are pretty good at that.” Hank shrugged.

“Still,” Trudy replied, but before she could say something else, shots rang out. Three of them. Hank and Al jumped, looking around. Seeing a man with a gun on the corner, who started running away. They frowned, as the gun had been pointed in their direction. It wasn’t until Trudy fell to the ground, though, that they realized what had happened.

Trudy was on the ground, gasping and writing in pain. Blood soaked into her school outfit, coming from the three holes in her torso. One in the shoulder, one in the chest and one in the abdomen.

Hank and Al fell to their knees beside their closest friend, frowning. “Shit, Trudy,” Hank said, hands shaking as he took off his jacket, pressing it to her abdominal wound.

“Fuck,” Al mumbled, mimicking Hank’s action and using his own jacket to press into the hole in her chest.

Hank looked around, seeing people start to gather. “Someone needs to call 911!! We need an ambulance!”

Al looked down at a gasping Trudy. “Hank, I don’t think she can breathe.”

Hank frowned. “It must’ve hit her in the lung or something,” he said. “Maybe the… diaphragm?”

“It’s too high for that. Lung might be right,” Al replied. “What are we gonna do?”

“We can’t do anything. We just need to hold pressure and… and wait for the ambo.” Hank shook his head, looking down at Trudy. “Hey, Trudy, you’ll be alright. Come one, you’re stronger than… than a few damned bullets.”

Sirens could be heard in the distance. Hank pressed harder on her abdomen, making her groan in pain, but she still was wheezing, obviously having trouble getting a breath. Al did the same as Hank, pressing harder. Blood stained their jackets and hands, as well as some of their clothes.Hank swallowed hard. “Come on, Dee, stay awake for me.” He reached one hand up to cup her face as her eyes fluttered. It wasn’t good. “Come on, Dee! Come on!” He cried desperately. Everyone was standing around them, nobody helping. It made Hank angry. When the paramedics arrived, they pushed Hank out of the way. He got up and strangled backwards, frowning and watching them work on Trudy. They put a tube down her throat and attacked a bag to it to help her breathe, putting gauze on the bullet wounds.

A few cop cars showed up, working on crowd control first, then getting Hank and Al over to a quieter spot as Trudy was loaded into the ambo, being swept away to the hospital. Hank could barely hear the cops’ voices until they said his name. “Henry Voight? Is that you?”

Hank glanced up at the cop. “Y-Yeah?”

The cop looked at his partner. “This is Richard’s kid. Remember him?”

“Oh, yeah,” the other cop replied. He shook Hank’s hand. “I’m so sorry about your father, kiddo.”

Hank blinked a few times, but nodded as he shook his hand. “Thanks?” he mumbled, then shook his head. “Trudy Platt… she’s our friend.”

“Platt, alright, we’ll get in touch with her parents.”

“Robert Platt,” Al chimed in.

“Alright,” the cops walked off, a detective arriving on scene to talk to them now.

“Hey there, Henry and Alvin, right?” He asked, standing in front of them.

“Yes sir,” Hank replied, taking a breath and leaning against the brink wall. “Can someone take up to see Trudy?”

“We actually need to call your parents to come get you,” the detective replied. “But I need to talk to you about the man who shot you.”

“I didn’t get a good look,” Al replied with a shrug. “It was so fast.”

Hank shook his head. “Me either. He was at the corner though, when he shot her. No idea why… We were just walking home from school.”

“These damn gangs think they can just kill whoever walks on their territory,” the detective replied. “The two of you are lucky you didn’t catch bullets either.”

“I guess,” Al replied with a frown

—

Soon enough, Hank’s mom arrived. She was let through the scene, checking Hank over for injuries, then Al, then hugging them both. “Oh, my gosh… are you boys alright?”

“Trudy took three shots,” Hank said, the reality of the situation finally hitting him, tears coming to his eyes as he hugged his mother tightly. “Mom… is she dead…?”

“I don’t know, honey, but we’ll go to the hospital right now.”

Al frowned as his mother and father rolled up, his father getting out of the car and yelling at him as soon as he got close, then he pulled Al away and into the car, driving away as he continued to rant angrily at his son.

Hank sighed, hands shaking from the events. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Trudy beneath his hands, choking on the bullet. He sat beside his mom, staring out the window as they drove to the hospital, wondering if Trudy even made it to the building alive.

#chicago pd #chicagopd #hank voight #cpd #sargent hank voight #sergeant hank voight #alvin olinsky #trudy platt #the three shits: whump week #whump

3 notes · View notes

afreakingdork · 1 year ago

Text

Weak Spot - Chapter 15

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Slice of Life, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert

Synopsis: Though it hadn't come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

Some light housekeeping so hopefully it's a little more clear what this fic is about! If you ever have notes for me, feel free to send them over!

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

They Were Roommates: Weather!

Phone Guy: Five day says we should be clear.

They Were Roommates: Schedules!

Sink: Open or requested off and granted!

They Were Roommates: Equipment!

Nervous Nell: Uuh, I’m ggonna drive up to see my parents and get their canoe! I’ll have to meet you there, but I’ll get a coooler and girlll stuff…

They Were Roommates: Food!

You: Car Beta will be hitting a store en route

They Were Roommates: Those unaccounted for!

Phone Guy: We got everybody except Travis.

They Were Roommates: You know what that means?!

Phone Guy: Lake day

You: Lake Day!

Sink: Lake Day!

Nervous Nell is typing…

They Were Roommates: Hey!

Nervous Nell: Llake day, yup!

They Were Roommates: What is up with you?

Nervous Nell: Sorry, lookin out my window. My gf said she was close like 20 mins ago...

Sink: No.

Nervous Nell: Huh?

Sink: No siggys at lake day!!

Phone Guy: We said no to making siggys a thing.

Sink: Ugh

Sink: No SiGnIfIcAnT oThErS at lake day.

Nervous Nell: Sshe gonna come up to my parents house though!

They Were Roommates: She ghosted you dude, move on.

Nervous Nell: Don’t say that!

They Were Roommates: Too late

They Were Roommates: Actually…

Nervous Nell: Yyeah?

They Were Roommates: I move to make an exception for Y/N’s boyfriend.

You: What?

Nervous Nell: Hhow come-?

Sink: We don’t do this! People break up too often and it ruins the memories.

Phone Guy: Just say photos. What is wrong with you?

You: Hey! This wasn’t my idea!

They Were Roommates: Did you all know Y/N had a crush on the Jolly Green Giant as a kid?

Nervous Nell, Sink, and Phone Guy are typing…

You: OPEN YOUR DOOR

You: I JUST WANT TO TALK

They Were Roommates: Help! Someone’s trying to break in!

Phone Guy: Oh no

Phone Guy: Think of the collateral damage.

You: Why the hell would you say that?!

They Were Roommates: Because you didn’t deny it and now you’re freaking out so, guess what?

They Were Roommates: You played yourself!

Sink: jalfkhsdfads

Phone Guy: Archived*

Nervous Nell: Hhe’s a mutant, right?

You: Yeah

You: He is.

You: Is that a problem?

Nervous Nell: Iit’s fine! Uh I didn’t mean for that to saound bad!

They Were Roommates: I think what he means is he’s curious to meet one.

You: Donatello isn’t some experiment gone wrong. He’s not here for you to study. He’s a person.

Nervous Nell is typing…

Sink: While he digs his grave, what’s up with this double standard Cor? You’re the one who came up with the no sigs rule!

Phone Guy: That’s worse.

They Were Roommates: Founder’s rights.

You: Why are you doing this?

They Were Roommates: I think he’s gonna stick around. He needs a serious group vetting.

Sink: We’ll I’ll be damned. You’re willing to stake lake day on this?

They Were Roommates: I’m that serious.

They Were Roommates: That’s the vote.

They Were Roommates: All in favor?

Sink: Hell alright

Phone Guy: I don’t care

Nervous Nell: I mean, yyeah. I’d like to meet him

You: It’s up to him.

They Were Roommates: He’ll say yes

They Were Roommates: Anyway, moving on!

They Were Roommates: Nell, what were you saying about your ex?

Nervous Nell is typing…

Standing outside of Donnie’s door, you pressed your palms into your eyes until they stung. You’d been buzzed up automatically by that digital check so he must have known you were out here. You could almost imagine him looking through the peephole and wondering why you were struggling. Not wanting to keep the figment waiting, you blew out an irritated breath and knocked.

There was a pause before the door opened which had you second guessing yourself.

You watched as Donnie left the thing open and wandered back inside.

“You okay?” You followed after him and closed the door behind you.

He held up a finger before it returned to his desk so he could type something out on his computer. It was the first time you’d seen the thing active. The many screens glowed purple and seemed to hold a multitude of windows. Trying to take in as much information as possible, you went to study a prominent list when the whole system shut off.

He turned to you. “Final preparations complete. You were saying?”

“You can always say no. Change your mind. We can spend the day together; just the two of us.”

His snout scrunched slightly. “I know you heard what I just annouced.”

“Yeah, I just…” You looked away and then back. Donnie was wearing a black, high-necked rash guard that perfectly concealed whatever was under those bandages of his. Below that he had a pair of surprisingly casual black board shorts with a purple band that matched his bandana.

“This is suitable attire.”

“That’s not what I’m…” You clicked your tongue. “My friends are a lot.”

“You’ve both told me and I’ve seen as much if your roommate is any indication.”

“I know…”

He folded his arms. “Is this an insinuation that I should decline?”

Your eyes shot to his face. “What? No!”

He shifted his weight to one hip. “Do you think I’ll demean you in some way?”

“Of course not!”

“Then what is your concern?” He unfurled and closed the distance between you.

You looked down at your ragged shoes. “I…”

His feet shuffled into view and you caught the purple flip flops there.

“You look cute.”

“Y/N.”

“It’s hard to explain!” You brought your head up only to loll it back. “I’ve known most of these people for a decade at this point and they’re weird! They’re going to be watching you like a science experiment and I was sure you were gonna say no on principle when I asked you to come. Except…. You didn’t! You said yes and then we did all the crazy preparation and suddenly it’s day of and my idiot roommate is downstairs waiting in a car she borrowed through like five different connections and you’ve got on this adorable outfit and I just-!” You wound down and let your lids drop. “I want them to like you like I like you.”

You felt a hand on your shoulder.

You let its weight linger before you opened your eyes.

Donnie was waiting with what seemed like a patient gaze. “You misspoke. You certainly don’t want them to like me in the same way you do.”

You swatted at him.

He dodged easily by only moving his upper body while his feet stayed planted.

“Stop making light of my worries!”

“A logic query then?”

You frowned.

He went ahead anyway. “If they were to dislike me after today, would you stop seeing me?”

“Never.”

“Would that effect your relationship with them?”

“No…” Your mouth curled up into one corner. “Well… they’d probably do that thing where you secretly hate your friend’s partner, but never tell them to their face cause they’re so deep in it so instead you always try to change the subject and talk about anything but-”

Narrowly missing biting your tongue you realized your folly.

You’d insinuated Donatello was your partner.

Peaking at Donnie, he seemed to be processing your statement.

It was both happiness and discontent.

You both wanted to finally have a label, but also didn’t want to rush and ruin the one you could have.

“Sounds like a tiring exercise of moronic social convention.”

“Yeah…”

“I planned to elevate this by impressing them for your sake.”

You blinked.

“Eye for an eye, they will also be under my observation.”

“Hey-”

He leaned into your space and you moved with him as if he shifted your gravity field. “For as much a chance that they look down on me, I can do the same with the company you keep. You should be more concerned with what will happen if I don’t find them to have your best interests in mind…” He trailed off and his arm lifted.

“You don’t get to decide that.” Against your words, you tipped to make yourself more accessible to him.

He arched a brow as if that were a challenge before straightening up. His extended arm came into view and he plopped a black sunhat on his head. A chin cord dangled down with a purple bauble landing just below his throat.

Your mouth crinkled at the sight.

“My bags by the door.” He rounded you and you burst out laughing.

“You look like you’re dressed for three different occasions!”

“Do you want to know my additional reasons for accepting?” He looked back at you caustically as you turned.

You fought back the giggles. “Of course.”

“I consider this a type of day off which is not something I indulge in.” He shouldered his bag. “To this end, my attire communicates such.”

You nodded and chewed on your lips to keep anything else from coming out.

He opened the door. “Conducting multiple studies, one such research includes the art of relaxation. Thus I am immune to your mockery.”

It was just absurd enough for you to momentarily forget your worries.

“All business on your vacation!” You tittered and headed out into the hall.

“A vacation is an extended period of recreation.” He corrected you before locking the door.

Something about the way he said it this time made it click for you. “You studied.”

“That was implied, yes.”

“No.” You headed towards the elevator with him in tow. “You studied how to chill.”

He was quiet and when you glimpsed back at him he was staring at you as if he didn’t see the point in your reiteration.

“You’ve never had a day off?”

“Not by human standards.” He pressed the button. The elevator arrived quickly and you both boarded. “For most of my life I was not afforded the luxury. Hence, I don’t see the need. I either work or don’t.”

You watched him quietly out of the corner of your eye.

“That better not be pity.”

“It’s not.” You hummed as the bottom floor dinged. “I just got my assignment for today.”

He lingered where you stepped out.

“I’m gonna make sure you have the best break possible!”

At least, that’s what you meant to happen. You, however, had no control over your friends. Your roommate, as usual, was the worst of which. As soon as Donnie came close to the car, she split the two of you up. She had argued it had to do with his size and directed him to the front seat next to her. Taking the seat behind him, you watched in misery as she immediately began to quiz him. He seemingly took her questions in stride until she grew tired of his unflappable nature. As the vehicle made two more pick up stops, she switched to blasting music. Songs were sung in purposefully broken keys as you exited the city.

Donnie checked out somewhere along the way and stared out the window. In the backseat, one of your friends had found an old slot machine handheld game and had roped you into cracking its simple code. The music came down to a manageable volume and soon lax conversation matched the tone of the drive. The sun beamed in with a gentle warmth that carried early morning light. It also forboded the blistering turn that summer would take it. Chatter went on peacefully as you heard your roommate murmur to Donnie about an exit. He had his phone out and helped direct her. You tried not to gawk at how normal they suddenly seemed to one another.

A turn off was eventually achieved and you passed through a station to park at a lake. Everyone made the mad scurry out of the vehicle to stretch they legs before rounding up to gather goods. Your roommate yelled on her phone as Nelson was nowhere to be seen. Her shouts summoned the secondary vehicle’s crew and your other group of friends came over from where they had parked on the far side of the lot. Introductions were exchanged before a flurry of things happened. You tried to keep track of Donnie, but your friends caught him and you in separate conversations. It lead to you, several people apart, heading down a path.

The lake came into view and stretched out into separate sections. Ample spring rain meant the forest flanking it was lush and there were families already set up in small groups. Standing fisherman dotted one far off shore, while little kids splashed each other on a closer one. Your group commandeered a pavilion and stuff was strewn about as people claimed their spots. The casual nature of the yearly outing meant that everything ran on a relaxed familiarity.

“Where’s the cooler?!” One of your friends plopped what seemed like a dozen grocery bags on the metal table.

“Nels said he was close!” Your roommate grouched.

“Guess, we’ll start cooking just in case!” One of your more relaxed friends stood. He whipped out a pair of sunglasses that were hanging from his tank top and donned them. “Chemical time!”

Though he were at least four people away from you, you saw how Donnie perked up.

“Wanna join me?” It hadn’t seemed like your chill friend was paying attention, but he turned around o zero in on Donnie.

Donnie excused himself from whoever he was talking to and wound a path over to the man. “I’m intrigued by your word choice.”

“Then you’re gonna love what I’m about to cook up! You see, as a grill master, I’ve refined my process to a science-!” Your chill friend pointed towards a public grill stand with a roll of aluminum foil as his septer. He then lead the charge with it and Donnie followed with tight posture.

“Worried?” You heard a voice a little too close and soured.

“I wouldn’t be if you hadn’t interfered.” You turned towards your roommate.

“Relax, look at him.” She gestured with her chin and you turned to see Donnie nodding as your chill friend did something to the grill with a brush. “He’s not a kid. He’s doing fine on his own. In fact, the only way he could have bigger daddy energy was if he had a stupid blob of sunscreen on his nose.”

“Did someone say ‘daddy’?” A friend who was splayed out on top of the table looked over the edge of his glasses.

You stewed at the thought.

“Update your prescription, damn!” Your roommate pointed towards the grill.

The table friend hummed appreciatively. “I do love a man who can start a fire. Oh! And is good with tongs.”

“Can you not make tongs sexual?” Another friend on their phone didn’t even look up.

“Anything has an inherent eroticism if you use it right!” The table friend crawled over to the phone one and purred in their ear. They were promptly abandoned as the phone friend stood and walked away.

An obnoxious ringtone sounded.

“Nels!” Your roommate snatched your wrist without answering her phone.

“W-wait-!” You tried to look back at Donnie, but you were already being dragged out into the sun.

“Beta got the food, Alpha gets the stuff. That’s the deal!” Your roommate pulled harder.

She only allowed you to wrench yourself free once you fell in line. “I should at least tell Don I’ll be right back.”

“Ugh, stop! He’ll survive without you for two seconds!”

“I don’t get your deal.” You huffed and rubbed your wrist. “You want to vet him. You want nothing to do with him. You want to see how we interact. You keep splitting us up!”

“That’s the thing.” She rounded on you with a finger pointed at her forehead. “I’ve got the big brain here. You gotta keep ‘em guessing. You can’t be too obvious or they’ll catch on!”

“I literally told him that you were going to vet him.”

“And you think I didn’t account for that?” You roommate rolled her eyes away.

The parking lot and specifically Nelson’s car came into view.

“Look. Stop thinking about it and enjoy lake day. Everything else is my priority, not yours.” She jumped a few steps forward and shot you a smile before running full force at Nelson.

The man yelped and the two rounded the car twice before your roommate caught him with a noogie.

Hauling what teetered on camping equipment, the three of you eventually emptied Nelson’s car and returned to the group. Keen on canoeing, Nelson ran around making a checklist of who would go out as he proclaimed that only one person at a time was safe. Somehow you’d ended up third on the list before you’d even managed to make it over to Donnie. He was still at the grill which had been foiled up in a bizarre way.

“So if we move this part here, then we could actually smoke whatever meat we want!” Your chill friend shifted something with a spatula.

“A fascinating application of architecture.” Donnie hummed with a pack of hotdogs in hand.

“We got the cooler filled with ice.” You announced your arrival with the phrase you were told to pass along.

“Sweet.” Your chill friend bobbed his head. “I’m gonna go see what we got and set up a cooking schedule.” He held out his hand and Donnie passed him the hotdogs. “You got the fire, Colonel Dee?”

Donnie nodded easily and the man left.

You folded your hands behind your back to keep them from nervously fidgeting. “’Dee,’ huh?”

“That is the first time he’s used it.”

You nodded and fought against the creeping awkward air.

“You have a different question.”

“I’ve been told I’m worrying about you too much.” You grumbled and stepped away as a gust blew smoke in your direction.

Donnie moved in time and adjusted the foil which you now realized was protecting the flame from the wind.

“If you could give me some kind of answer…”

“You haven’t asked anything.”

“I guess… that’s right.” Your brows came together in frustration.

“Outward appearances haven’t indicated you were worried.”

You looked at him.

“So far I’ve recorded your catching up with friends, a multitude of inside jokes, and that you’ll soon be taken out on the water.”

On the nearby shore, Nelson pushed off the canoe with its first passenger on board.

“You heard all that?” You looked away and wondered why you couldn’t defeat this odd shyness.

“It’s your day off as well. You’re allowed to enjoy it.”

You were struggling with that concept. “But-?”

“Your friends have been tolerable. Kaleb, in particular.” Donnie nodded back to where your chill friend was laughing heartily at something. “I prefer to keep to myself, but just because I shun the company of others does not mean I don’t know how to keep it.”

You nodded.

What about all this was throwing you off?

“Though it hasn’t been without its challenges.”

“Oh?” An odd flicker in your chest reduced the load there.

Why did that make you feel better?

“On the walk up there were a few tone-deaf comments.”

“Oh.”

“Microaggressions. It is a failing of society.”

“Should I talk to them?” You looked towards the pavilion and tried to pick out who had done it.

Donnie shook his head. “I suppose one would be curious where my ears are.”

You blinked.

Donnie prodded something in the grill.

“Was that…?”

He glanced at you for a moment.

“I never actually asked so how did you know..?”

“I was not referring to you.” He raised up and looked down at you.

“It seemed like a call out!”

“’A guilty conscience needs to confess.’” He narrowed his gaze lethally.

You felt the weight of it and resisted squirming. “I just wondered where they were...” You trailed off but the oppressive stare pricked at your skin. “I’ve gotten close! I didn’t see anything so I was curious! I was waiting for a better time to ask!”

“Tympanum.” Donnie finally broke away to tend to the fire. “They’re in the same place.”

You repeated the word in your head several times in an effort to commit it to memory.

“Broadly speaking, you have my species. I’m surprised you haven’t looked anything up.”

That would have been a smarter thing to do.

You laughed nervously.

He shook his head at your hopeless case.

You fell into a comfortable silence and the wind carried on it the sounds of cheery conversation.

Out on the lake, Nelson paddled the boat in a curve towards the tree line.

“Y/N!”

You broke from where you were staring at the orange dot and turned back to see a friend waving a Frisbee at the pavilion.

“You game?!”

A confirmation ran to your lips before hesitation caught it.

Donnie gave a loud dramatic sigh that made you jump. “You’re being obnoxious.”

You gave him both a glower and a pout.

Through his irritation you saw a flicker of something else. You couldn’t place it as he descended upon you. The brim of his hat knocked your head before his lips pressed a quick kiss into your temple. He then dropped near your ear. “Go. Enough of this. I am enjoying myself whether you chose to believe so or not. I will signal you the moment that is not the case. Otherwise, I am going to continue to discuss engineering with Kaleb as he is already heading this way. Then I plan to run samples of the lake water.” He leaned back enough to monopolize your gaze. “Thorough enough?”

“You’ll have fun testing the lake water?” You bit back a brighter smile.

It had helped.

“Immensely.” He rose up and gave your back a gentle push.

“My man!” Your chill friend approached with open arms stuffed with packages. “Fire’s looking hot!” He then shifted his gaze to you. “Love this guy. Try to keep him around; I’d love to hang out again!”

“I’ll try…” You gave Donnie one last glance which he ignored.

Your chill friend set the bags down to rifle through them. “So, tell me more about this explosive compound you created?”

As you walked away you heard the faint sounds of Donnie infodumping. Smiling to yourself, you picked up to a jog where your Frisbee friend met you half way. The two of you chatted there before they reared back in a surprise throw. Running to catch it, a game picked up as a few other friends joined. The canoe returned and there was a trade off. You eventually headed back to the pavilion and ate chips while watching Donnie squat by the water’s edge. His existence seemed to spurn on a couple of your friends who tore their excess clothes off while mad dashing towards him. They splashed near him, but not close enough where he’d have gotten wet. He spoke to them when their heads resurfaced. They seemed to find whatever it was funny.

An ice cold soda touched your cheek and you screeched. Laughs were rounded and you eventually accepted the beverage. Bugs chorused the tittering and the sun gave a lazy hum. Eventually the canoe returned from its second journey and you were summoned by Nelson. You followed him out and saw that Donnie had his feet in the water. A few more of your friends had taken the plunge and were routinely yelling things. You and Donnie shared a glance as you boarded the canoe.

“Steady!” Nelson said more to himself before he pushed off and hopped in.

The light glistened off the water and you had to turn away.

“Mind if we go into the brush? I think I can open up a path!”

“Sure, I guess.” You resisted the urge to turn around just in case it upset the balance. You could feel the gentle rocking as Nelson paddled expertly. “How’ve you been?”

“Eh…” You sensed him shrug. “I got the official break-up notice yesterday.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Nah, Cor opened my eyes to it so I had warning.”

The shade of the trees loomed welcomingly nearby. You watched the way the water parted by the canoe’s bow. “You really liked her though. You were gonna introduce her to your parents. That sucks.”

“Yeah…” He pulled the paddle up and you glided for a moment. “This is helping.”

“Good.” You chanced back a smile. “When’s the last time you got out like this?”

“Too long!” He smiled back and thurst the paddle back into the lake for a hearty push. Overhead you broke through the trees and the shade gave a comfortable drop in temperature. “Since my parents are from the area, we used to do it all summer long. Since I moved to the city I haven’t been able to come out as much as I’d like.”

“That’s always the way.” You hummed and watched how the leaf litter floated on the surface until the bobbed ripples from the canoe disturbed them.

The two of you continued to chat as Nelson shared stories from his childhood. Eventually, you floated up to where a fallen tree blocked the path. Moving as if it were second nature, Nelson maneuvered the canoe right up beside it.

“Alright, let’s see!” He dug into the supplies stored in the stern and pulled out a small hatchet.

“Uh!?” You straightened anxiously.

He gave you a dumbfounded look. “This is standard equipment. Calm down! It’s for this exact purpose.” You watched as he then tied the canoe off to the log before raising the axe up high. He brought it down and started chopping away. “In case you get stuck!” He yelled over the loud slashing.

The canoe rocked and you held on as he hacked at the log. Eventually he neared the water with his cut and it started to splash algae sludge at you. “Nelson!”

He didn’t slow.

“UGH NELSON!!” You screamed as a blob of green landed on your arm.

“Huh?” He stopped the suddenly silence meant his voice was way too loud. “What was that? Oh, ew!”

“It’s getting all over me! Stop!”

“I’m almost through…” He raised the hatchet again.

“No!” You waved your hands. “I’m good!”

He frowned and started to undo the ropes. “I guess I’ll open up the path for the next rider.”

“Thanks.” You responded dryly.

“I made good progress though!” He stored the axe and then gathered up the paddle.

“I’m sure you did great.” You rolled your eyes.

He turned the canoe so it was facing the opposite direction and pushed off the log with an audible thump. Again, you studied the way the boat cleaved the otherwise still water. The sun poured overhead as you left the trees behind and you squinted at the pavilion. There was some sort of tag game happening there so you traced over to the water where people were floating lazily in comparison. A particularly hard to miss green man was absent. You held tightly to your seat to keep from rising up.

No matter where you searched, Donnie was nowhere to be seen. It cropped up nervous memories of the grocery store and you fidgeted to get your phone.

“Don’t drop it!” Nelson chirped behind you as if he were the pinnacle of help.

“Yeah, yeah.” You brushed him off and unlocked in. You had no new notification of mention. Frowning, you felt Nelson pull the paddle back before there was a soft bump to the canoe. “What… was that?” You held your phone close and tired to peer over the edge without moving much.

Nelson’s silence spoke odd volumes as the boat came to an abrupt halt. Looking around wildly, you found your captain sitting calmly with a smile on his face. Scowling, you looked back toward the water and caught two green hands holding the deck. Realization dawned on you as Donnie’s head surfaced.

“Hey!” You exclaimed and had to force yourself to stay put.

Donnie let go and swam towards to you. “Greetings.”

“What are you doing?” You chuckled and felt a grin way too big split your cheeks.

“Swimming.” He then disappeared back under the water. It was just murky enough along with his black clothing that he disappeared.

You rounded on Nelson. "You stopped. Is this an ambush?"

He held his hands up with the paddle in tow. "What!? No! It’s a reflex! You watch the water for threats and safety! I clocked him and the others near the beach so I saw when he dove. There were then signs that he was coming this way!"

You narrowed your gaze.

"Honest!" He then lowered the oar and seemed a little sheepish. "He's a turtle, right? Do you know what kind? He swims so well..."

You weren’t sure if that was something you were allowed to share. Before you could decide, you heard a little splash and looked over the other side of the canoe to find Donnie there. "I'm guessing the water tested good?"

"Passable" Donnie bobbed for a moment and then ducked again. You searched around curiously until you heard him somewhere behind Nelson. The canoe was set into motion and smoothly shot towards shore.

You disembarked and turned to address Donnie, but found him already floating out a ways.

“Now he could definitely get that log out of the way…” Nelson mumbled to himself before stepping right up to the water’s edge. “Uh! Donatello!”

Donnie easily changed position and looked over.

“Want to help me open a path!?” Nelson pointed to the trees.

“Not particularly.” Donnie responded plainly and disappeared under the water.

“Dead!” Your roommate cackled loudly. “Shot down twice in one week!”

“Not cool!” Nelson stormed towards the pavilion with the paddle in hand.

You heard ensuing chaos and, not wanting to participate, decided to walk the shore to your floating friends. “Hey!”

There was a three person chorus of recognition.

“How’s the water?”

“Amazing!” One of your friends floated up onto her back.

“Get your Olympic swimmer beau to give us rides!”

“He ignores us when we ask!”

You laughed. “Yeah, I doubt he’ll do that.”

“Get in! I bet he will if you’re around.”

“I’m not so sure.” You smiled more to yourself.

“Food’s ready!!!” Your chill friend’s voice interrupted with a boom.

There was splashing as everyone made a rush to get out of the water.

“Think about it, Y/N!” A wet hand made a pass at you that you dodged.

“Yeah, no!” You felt a presence behind you and turned to find Donnie watching casually. “Hi.”

“Are you going to greet me every time we’re separated for more than a few minutes?” He tilted his head and you watched a string of water bead down his chin.

Oh.

You shot your gaze elsewhere.

Now was not the time.

He moved and you watched as he picked up a folded towel from where the sand slowly morphed to ill tended grass. You swallowed hard as he wiped himself off and the muscles in his arms bulged under the clingy wet rash guard as he did so. “Shall we?” He gave you a knowing grin.

“Y-yeah.” You shot past him towards the pavilion.

This strange bashful plague whenever you got close to him was wearing thin.

Joining the group, you were welcomed heartily with a saved seat for both you and Donnie. You were both placed center stage, but found, much to your relief, that you weren’t the pinnacle of conversation. You secretly adored the fact that they’d paired you off. It gave you a chance to absorb as much information about Donnie’s cook-out eating habits as you could between the pinballed talking points. The flow dictated the two of you were pulled in different directions as conversation divvied up.

You might have mourned the loss had Donnie not caught you hand under the table. It was just sly enough that no one took notice. You tried not to give it away to the friend you were talking with and mentally excused the red on your face to the sun. The group gorged and, with the moment of respite, grew sluggish from the many activities. The fractured parties shifted around to include others and Donnie politely excused himself. You watched idly as he drifted back to the water and disappeared into its depths.

You realized his highly aquatic comment had not been a fib.

Someone tugged at your sleeve and you realized you’d missed what they said. Mumbling apologies, you jumped back in until everyone digested and spread out. A small group decided to explore the far side of the lake and departed in an expedition to find walking sticks. Others had settled into mobile gaming at the table while Nelson picked up canoe rides again. You stood, just under the shade, and looked out at the water. Donnie was floating on his stomach adjacent to where some of your friends were lazing on the beach. You shifted awkwardly before shrugging out of your shirt. You set it with your stuff and removed your bottoms which covered the swimsuit you had underneath.

Looking back out, Donnie hadn’t moved and you sort of wish he’d seen the reveal. Shoving those disruptive feelings away with the others, you reminded yourself he’d seen you in far less. Departing, passing goodbyes chased you from those left at the pavilion. You strode up to beach before kicking your shoes off. You then toed into the water. “It’s warm…”

“Sun!” One of your friends mumbled drunkenly from where her feet were buried in the sand. “It’s so nice.”

“It cools off if you go out some.”

“Such a perfect day.”

You lingered with them in their sun bleached moment before you heard the gentle rustle of waves. Donnie’s form traveled smoothly over. “Are you getting in?”

“Thinking about it.”

He hummed and sank down until only his eyes were above the water.

“Watching me?” You took a step forward bringing the water up to your ankles.

His chin rose to reveal his mouth. “Yes.”

You smiled and moved until the lake lapped at your knees.

He floated as close as you imagined he could with his height. “I’m logging this look to memory.”

You bit your lip. “I was hoping you’d notice.”

“I always do.” He disappeared under the depths as soon as you looked up.

Smiling ruefully, you moved against the weight of the water until you dipped into its embrace. You then wadded out until you were able to comfortably stand up to your shoulders. Donnie hadn’t surfaced and you spun around causing ripples to cascade away from you. You hadn’t given it much thought until now, but it was clear he could breath underwater to an extent.

There was a tap to your leg and the weight of the touch had a signal to it that it wasn’t meant to be scary. You searched the water, but your movement had kicked up silt and made it opaque. A distinct hand found its way around your waist you and you looked towards that direction. It wasn’t until its twin joined that you realized he was behind you. You heard the water breach as he came up.

“I’m going to pull you.”

You nodded and your feet left the bottom of the lake. His arms encircled you until you were pulled into his plastron. Beneath you, you could feel the way his legs were keeping you both smoothly afloat.

“They’re watching…” You mumbled much quieter than you meant.

You actually hadn’t checked.

It wasn’t just your body that was swimming.

“I’ve done nothing inappropriate.” He disappeared from your back and you wished you hadn’t mentioned it. “Arms out.”

“They’ll come up with something…” You obeyed.

He gave the handhold on your waist a tight squeeze. “I don’t understand why your friends trigger this embarrassment in you. You are otherwise shameless.”

“N-Not true!” You turned to try and see him, but he ducked away.

“Kick, I’m going to let go.”

“Hey, I’m not done.” You heard a splash that said he dove and sighed. You kept yourself afloat and did a little circle to look where he’d just been. Below you, you felt a skim around your feet. Kicking out, your toes slid along his rash guard. Wondering how deep this part of the lake was, you gave up on searching with your eyes. Closing them, you waited with heightened sensitivity for him to return. He did so somewhere around your thigh and, from the graze, you could sort of tell that he had brushed against you with his snout. He then curled expertly around and did so to your other leg.

The light touches had filled your head with effervescence. He continued to swim around you in tight knit circles until his head breeched the surface around your front. Against the cool water, your cheeks burned and you sank down to put them out.

Why couldn’t you just enjoy this?

He’d handled the day with such ease.

Unaware, Donnie watched with a carefree expression and something about it registered in your brain.

He wasn’t his usual restrained self.

At least, not the prior version; the one you’d met.

He’d held himself differently in front of your friends, but nowhere near how cold he’d initially been to you.

It made you self conscious.

Was it you?

He’d said a few things about acting and you weren’t sure why you’d originally been excluded from that if this is how he could be.

You’d technically won out in the end, but the victory currently felt hollow.

Returning your attention, Donnie relaxed nature seemed mocking. It was happy in a way you’d yet to see him. It contrasted the version of pacification that was brought up by sex or exhaustion. This version of Donnie was alert, but didn’t have the usual barriers up. He ducked down and from the streaks of water he swam away. It reminded you of a dolphin.

Startling, the water lapped at your ears and drowned out your concern.

He was being playful.

As if caught in the flow of a tide, the worry receded and what washed back up felt very silly.

Regardless of its origin, you were being gifted a unrestrained version of your partner.

This had been your plan for the day, even if you hadn’t been the one to set it into motion.

You could share your worries later, for now you were overcome with affection.

You swallowed the excited sound that rumbled in your throat. Swimming towards where he had gone, you felt him slide up beside you. He got ahold of you and took over steering. A noise of surprise weaseled its way out of you as you shot forward faster than you could imagine going alone. There was a polish to the way he swam that signified he was one with the water. Changing direction with little whiplash, he drove you both back to where you could stand before depositing you there. You then watched as the ripples seemed to indicate he traveled to the other side of the lake.

“See what we mean?”

You turned to the voice and found your friends had waded back in.

“Catch him at Sea World!”

“Wouldn’t that mean salt water? He’s a turtle. Isn’t that bump on his back a shell?”

“There are saltwater turtles.”

“Literally sea turtles.”

“Oh! Huh! That makes sense.”

“I’m glad he’s having a good time.” You softened and watched Donnie meet up with the group who had made their way to the other side of the lake.

“Who wouldn’t? It’s a perfect day!”

“He’s a weird one, but in a good way.”

You nodded.

“Rich coming from you!”

“Hey! What do you mean!?”

“You know!”

One of your friends ambushed the other and dragged them down. It quickly devolved into a dunk and splash war with no clear winner. Eventually a failed game of Marco Pollo tried to catch its footing, but your chill friend approached with the cooler rolling behind him. He started floating drinks out to those in the water and that became a game in and of itself. Arguing and laughing ensued.

The sun tilted overhead and your fingers signaled the start of pruning. Twirling in the water, you found Donnie floating on his back and soaking up the rays. Even from here you could tell his face was utterly serene. Sharing a parting look with your friends, you swam over to him. He peaked only to seemingly confirm who it was before letting his eyes close again. You came up near his torso and studied the way his body moved with the current. “You float so well.”

Instead of opening his eyes, one of his brows came up in a way that signified he thought that was obvious.

“Yeah turtle, ha ha. It’s been the talk of the town. I meant on your back. You were floating the other way earlier.”

He gave a little understanding nod. “It is easier the other way, but as long as I adjust the air in my lungs and find a balance point, I can sustain any position.”

“The air on your lungs…” You thought it over as your arms swayed to keep you afloat. In doing so you watched Donnie gingerly bob and with his size and straight posture, he almost looked like a pool toy. “Will you stay up if I lean on you?”

He nodded languidly.

Tempering your excitement, you swam closer and chose the flat of the plastron around his stomach. You were careful and he dipped as you threw your arms over him. He quickly righted and, with a little adjusting, you eventually came to fold your arms under your head. The dark color of his rash guard had absorbed the sun’s rays and made him a basking platform. Lulled by it, you closed your eyes.

In a pleasant way, you felt time tick by as the sun lapped at your back. Here and there you’d hear commotion from the beach, but nothing seemed pressing enough to move. You idly wondered how far you’d drifted when those thoughts seemed to simply trickle away. The gently rocking of the waves filled your ears and the warmth of the sun cradled your body. You weren’t sure if you completely drifted off when Donnie brushed a hand over your shoulder.

“Hm?” You couldn’t be bothered to make full words.

“We’re being waved over.”

“Tell them to hit snooze.”

He chuckled. “It’s your roommate.”

You sighed and pushed off your rock. You sank for a moment forgetting you needed to propel yourself. Darting back to the surface with a gasp, you watched your roommate laugh from the shore.

You played up your scowl so she could see it.

Regaining composure, she wiped an eye. “We’re heading back!! Let’s go, turtledoves!!”

You grumbled.

“Agreed.” Donnie swam around you. “However, if we leave now, we’ll just make it back to the city before dark.”

That didn’t seem right, the sun had only just barely tipped from overhead.

Squinting up, you found it had sank three quarters of the way through the sky. “How long have we been out here?”

Donnie hummed as if he didn’t care and there was something about that lackadaisical side to him that shot you through the heart.

“Why do you live in the city?”

He skimmed to your side in thought.

“You’re so much happier here.”

He slowed into a drift. “Work. Convenience. Mutant Epicenter. Take your pick.”

That third one had you tilting your head.

He ignored it and did a lap around you.

“It just seems like-”

He slowed, curious.

Clapping echoed from the shore. “Chop, chop! You’re going to do your part packing up! Don’t try to get out of it!”

You sighed.

He found your hand underwater and tugged you along slowly.

“We should come back here though.”

Donnie focused on swimming.

“Just us.”

He didn’t look back. “Not here.”

“Oh.” The shore was getting closer and closer.

In a smooth twirl, he pivoted to your side. “I can show you somewhere better.”

There was a veiled nature to his statement that said it meant a lot more than he was letting on.

“One day.” He seared a look into your eyes before resuming his tugboat position.

You tried to place it as the water lapped at your throat.

Was it that it hinted at a time frame?

Did the location itself hold some importance?

You had that and a million more questions by the time you reached the beach. Donnie grabbed you your towel before he got his. Even then, you struggled with the sand as you put your shoes back on. There was a metered chaos to the pavilion as everyone tried to rightfully gather what was theirs. Snacks were fought over and eventually goodbyes were had. Hugs promised a repeat next year and you parted to your respective vehicles while splitting the loads that would go inside them. Your roommate helped tie the canoe back onto Nelson’s car before she came around and pointedly shooed Donnie to the backseat.

She gave you an approving nod, which you took with a surprised blink. She then slipped around to the driver’s side. You timidly translated it to Donnie who had seen the display and, in a show that said his reserved demeanor was returning, stood stoic. Crawling into the car, the radio was turned down low and no one spoke as exhaustion crept in. Your third backseat companion fell asleep as soon as a long thoroughfare was hit and you slumped back to fight your own eyelid battle.

Donnie nudged you and you resisted falling into him as your hair was still wet. Not realizing that was his intention, he shifted to giving you a tug by slinging his arm around you. You tipped into him and looked up to find him staring out the car window.

“Why go back?” You kept your voice as low as possible both to mind the passengers and to keep the conversation just for his ears.

He didn’t look away. “There is more in the city now than what I listed previously.”

“Like what?”

You watched as he blinked slowly before turning to look down at you.

Your stomach flipped.

He seemed satisfied with your reaction and started to move his head back.

“You’re different.”

“How so?”

“Then when we met…” Exhaustion brought about loose lips, but not coherency. “With everyone… Were you just…?” You lowered your gaze to where his hat sat in his lap. “What’s real?”

You jostled as he snapped towards you.

When you didn’t look the arm around you folded at the elbow and a hand wrapped around your forehead. He then used that appendage to pull you back so you were forced to look up at him.

“This is real.”

His voice was too loud, too clear.

You could feel your roommate looking the rear-view mirror.

He wouldn’t want that kind of attention. “Donnie…”

“No.” His voice was again forceful. “I need you to know that.”

You nodded and he evaluated you harshly. “I’m sorry…”

“For what?” The weight of his hand lessened and his voice lowered.

“For doubting you.”

“Reassurance, as discussed, is ongoing and mutual.”

Your lids were growing heavier by the second. “Then why are you…?”

Different?

You weren’t sure you could finish the thought.

“You.” He whispered into your ear and the tone of his voice lulled your eyes closed. “You’re the answer.”

The orange hues through your lids danced as the last thing you saw before you drifted off.

#rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction #weakspotfic

47 notes · View notes