#i should maybe put this on AO3 but the idea of having to format and tag right now is making me want to weep so.

[firstelevens]

from the prompt list: 21 and Sam/Bucky ✨

21. you come and pick me up, no headlights

For a second, when Sam wakes up, he can’t remember where he is. He’s the kind of disoriented that only comes from sleeping deeply and for way longer than you’re supposed to, a little over-warm under the covers and still fuzzy on the details of the room around him.

It comes to him in pieces: the bed is perfectly firm and the sheets are comfortable the way hotel bedcovers never are. The room is cool and dark, and the pillow beside his carries the familiar scent of too-fancy haircare products. Sam presses his face into it for a moment, not quite ready to be awake but not tired enough to go back to sleep.

He’s back in Delacroix, he realizes belatedly. He’s back in his own house, in his own bed, after a mission that felt like it had gone on forever and didn’t feel finished even after he’d signed the last piece of paperwork. Being home is always a relief, but never more so than when a mission reminds him of all the things that he still can’t do, even as Captain America.

Memories of last night slowly filter in the more he wakes up: flying in on the quinjet with aching shoulders and a worrying tightness in his knee, and dreading the hour long drive to a house that would be empty, thanks to Thunderbolts business taking Bucky from Louisiana before Sam had left for his own mission.

When they’d touched down, Sam had barely managed to avoid stumbling off the jet, shield and wingpack in one hand and duffel in the other. As he picked out the shape of his truck in the distance, he spared a second to be grateful for Carlos, who’d offered to drop it off earlier so Sam wouldn’t have to wait on a ride after he landed.

He’d almost made it to the driver’s side door before getting the shock of his life, nearly dropping his bags as the supposedly-empty truck started up with a growl. Sam had been tired enough to think of that one Stephen King book and wonder if this wasn’t revenge for the new cars he had test driven last week, but the headlights weren’t on, and he seemed to remember something about those being kind of important for an evil car.

It was in the middle of that slightly delirious train of thought that the door had opened to reveal Bucky, who was out of the cab and already loading Sam’s bags into the bed of the truck before Sam had fully processed what was happening. He’d gone without protest when Bucky had chivvied him into the passenger seat, fully intent on asking when Bucky had gotten home and instead immediately knocking out once the engine started up.

Sam can’t quite remember getting home or making it into bed—there was a bath in there, maybe, and a cup of tea when he’d refused food—but he knows enough to be sure that he’d fallen asleep with Bucky’s arms around him, his face tucked against Sam’s shoulder blade. 

The other side of the bed is cold now, but Sam can hear Bucky making a ruckus down in the kitchen, utensils clinking as he talks animatedly to…someone. If they’re answering him, Sam can’t make out the voice. It’s a phone call, probably.

He drags himself out of bed, rolling his shoulders as he stands and noting with surprise that yesterday’s aches haven’t lingered as much as he expected them to. He puts a little pressure on his knee just to test it, braced for the twinges of pain that he’d felt for the entire quinjet ride, but at worst, it’s just a little stiff, and even that dissipates with some stretching.

Absently, Sam rubs at the spot on his lower back that always hurts after a long day with the wings on and finds that that feels better, too. He’s confused until he spots the little jar of muscle salve that Bucky always grabs when they’re in Wakanda, some kind of superpowered Tiger Balm that he usually rations between visits in case his shoulder flares up. Sam makes a note to tell Shuri that they’re running low so that Bucky doesn’t have to go without.

He just needs coffee, he decides, and starts making his way to the kitchen to find some. When Sam gets to the landing, he stops for a second. He just means to listen to the sounds of home for a second: birds chirping outside and Alpine playing with whatever her latest bell-and-sparkly-tinsel toy is and Bucky clattering around the kitchen, fussing with the newest recipe that he’s been taught by the circle of parish grandmas, all of whom are technically younger than him. (Sam would be hard pressed to admit it, but watching Bucky and Miss Irene and Miss Letty commiserate over how terrible powdered eggs were back in the forties ranks among the top ten cutest things he’s ever seen.)

It’s Bucky’s voice that stops Sam in his tracks, carrying out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Over the years, Sam has heard the Brooklyn accent peek through from time to time, rearing its head when Bucky’s tired or he’s spent a couple days around someone who hits their vowels the same way. In all that time, he can’t think of a moment when he’s heard it this thick, sweet and almost crooning.

He’s so distracted by the accent that Sam doesn’t even think about who Bucky might be addressing, transfixed by how much younger he sounds, how much lighter his words are.

“Did you do that all by yourself?” he’s asking. “You’re so smart, bubs. I didn’t realize we had a prodigy on our hands.”

Sam frowns, trying to figure out who Bucky could possibly be talking to. The most obvious choice would be Alpine, except she’s curled up in the sun at the foot of the stairs, and while both Sam and Bucky tend to baby her, he’s not sure either of them would shower her with praise for doing the exact thing that she spends roughly fifty percent of her time doing.

(Okay, maybe they both would do that, but Alpine is out here with Sam and not in the kitchen with Bucky, so this can’t be about her.)

As if in direct answer to Sam’s unspoken question, a baby’s laugh sounds from the kitchen, giggles rising in pitch until Bucky is shushing them, and now Sam is only more confused.

Where on earth did Bucky get a baby? Does it have to do with the Thunderbolts? Is that why he came home earlier than expected from his mission? That makes sense, honestly. Sam’s met Val; if there were a choice between leaving a baby with her or a literal tiger, he might seriously consider the tiger. 

“Take it easy, huh?” Bucky says, as the baby coos at him. “We can’t have you tiring yourself out, can we? How’re you gonna charm everyone at the park today if you’re napping?”

There’s a pause for the babble that the baby offers in response, and Bucky hums thoughtfully at the end of it.

“That’s a good point; you probably could charm them all even if you were sleeping,” he says. “Like I told your Ma, you’re too cute for your own good. You gotta learn to use that power responsibly.”

The baby babbles again, punctuated by another shriek of laughter. Sam stops spinning out baby acquisition scenarios to appreciate how adorable it is that Bucky is talking to this literal infant like they’re having a full blown conversation.

“Come on, kiddo,” says Bucky. “I thought we had a deal. You don’t wake up Sam while he sleeps off this mission and I play peekaboo with you until my arms fall asleep.”

“Bah!” is the baby’s emphatic response, and Sam’s not sure what that’s supposed to mean, but Bucky is.

“Oh, yes we did. We shook on it.”

A gurgle, and then another laugh.

Bucky lets out a dramatic sigh. “Okay, fine, I shook on it and you just tried to eat my left hand. Still. That’s a gentleman’s agreement.”

Sam muffles a laugh behind his hand, and the sound is apparently enough to disrupt Alpine’s time in the sun. She casts an imperious look back at him before curling up in her spot again, having sufficiently expressed her distaste. Sam wonders if her mood has anything to do with the fact that Bucky’s attention has been claimed by a different adorable someone, and confirms his theory by sitting down on the stairs and waiting her out as he listens to the conversation in the kitchen.

The step squeaks under him, but he’s pretty sure he gets some cover from the baby yelling, “Buh!” and clapping excitedly.

Alpine startles at the noise and gives Sam a look like, Are you seeing this right now? He shrugs at her in a way that he hopes is commiserating, and she responds with a flat stare that she unquestionably picked up from Bucky.

From the kitchen, Sam hears Bucky say, warm and encouraging, “Yeah, that is a bird. You want to go look at the birdfeeder?”

The baby makes another noise that must be a yes. Alpine, now probably offended by the baby and the talk of birds, has begun a stately prowl up the stairs. Sam avoids looking at her as she makes her way up, but immediately offers chin scratches when she settles in his lap.

There’s a running commentary on the birds at the feeder now, finally giving Bucky a use for all the bird facts he picked up while helping Cass with that project on local ecosystems last month. 

“That’s a goldfinch,” he’s explaining, and the baby lets out a soft ooh at whatever the bird is doing. “Uh-huh, he’s real pretty, right?”

Alpine curls up more comfortably in Sam’s lap, and he rests his head against the railing and lets Bucky’s voice wash over him, comforting the way it always is, even when they’re arguing over something stupid.

“You see that one over there on the railing? All showy with the blue and white? That’s a blue jay. Sam likes those, but there’s this red finch that’s his favorite.” He pauses for what Sam assumes is more baby babble. “You, too, huh? Yeah, I guess they’re nice. Not my favorite, though.”

The baby must make an inquisitive noise, because then Bucky’s humming thoughtfully.

“I’m trusting you not to tell anyone, okay? This is top secret stuff.” The baby gurgles and that seems like reassurance enough, because Bucky goes on to say, “All these years and my favorite bird is still Sam.”

Sam snorts and shakes his head. At some point, that joke is going to get old, he’s sure, but as far as Bucky’s concerned, it hasn’t happened yet.

“I know, I know,” Bucky’s saying. “But the first time I saw him fly, he literally knocked me off my feet. That sort of thing tends to leave an impression.”

More cooing from the baby.

“Yeah, okay, so I’m a little biased,” says Bucky, and punctuates it by blowing a raspberry that sends delighted giggles carrying through the house. “But you’ve never seen him fly. He’s nice to look at all the time, but when he’s up in the air? It’s like he was born to be up there. There’s nothing better.”

It’s quiet for a moment, Sam’s heart too full to even think of a quippy response.

“He really is beautiful,” Bucky says, completely sincere, and the part of Sam that hasn’t completely turned to mush feels a little bit guilty for eavesdropping on Bucky like this. The feeling immediately dissipates when Bucky adds, a little bit louder, “It almost makes up for how bad he is at sneaking around his own house.”

Sam looks down at Alpine. “This is your fault,” he tells her as she looks up at him. “I was just trying to figure out if your dad had stolen a baby. I would’ve been like a ghost if I hadn’t sat down to pet you.”

There’s a snort from Bucky, who appears in the doorway to the kitchen with a curly-haired baby on his hip. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

“I will,” says Sam. In his lap, Alpine perks up as soon as she hears Bucky’s voice, then rears back at the sight of the baby. They watch her hop off of Sam and flounce her way into the family room, probably in search of Fig. “So are you gonna explain where this baby came from or…?”

“I’m not sure I have time for an entire birds and the bees talk right now,” Bucky says, blinking at Sam as innocently as possible. “I’d offer to give you the highlights but I think Jordan’s a little young to hear all that.”

“You’re not as funny as you think you are,” says Sam, as he takes the last couple of steps moves towards the kitchen. He smiles at the baby, holding a finger out for him to grip. “Hi, Jordan. You have fun birdwatching with Bucky?”

Jordan looks at Sam, wide-eyed at the sound of his own name, and grabs onto Sam’s hand before turning to Bucky with a beatific if gummy smile.

“Did you say hi to Sam?” Bucky asks, tickling Jordan’s stomach and making him giggle. “Did you tell him you like blue jays, too?”

There’s something about the way that Bucky moves with a baby in his arms, swaying and bouncing just the right amount, alert but not tense. He’s confident anytime they’re out in the field, and time in Delacroix has helped him shake off the shyness and hesitation that colored his earliest visits here, but there’s an element of this that goes beyond that. It seems instinctive, somehow.

Sam has the mildly embarrassing thought that he could watch it for a while and not get bored, and decides not to test how obvious this inclination is by coming up with a distraction. “I’m starving,” he says. “Have you eaten yet?”

Bucky shakes his head. “Got a little distracted when Miss Letty showed up with this one,” he says. “And he keeps touching my left hand, so I didn’t want the metal heating up near the stove.”

“If I make breakfast, you think you and your co-pilot over there can handle putting on some coffee for us? Is there a stroller or something that we can put him in?”

“Don’t worry about it,” says Bucky, waving a dismissive hand. “I’ve had plenty of practice.”

“Juggling a kid and making breakfast?” asks Sam, as he pulls eggs and milk out of the fridge. “Who are you, June Cleaver?”

“You know I don’t know who that is.”

Sam just shrugs, letting Bucky have the out if he wants it, and gets a mixing bowl from the cabinet so he can start making pancake batter. After a few moments of working in relative silence—Jordan is still as chatty as ever, and Bucky keeps up his end of the conversation—the coffee maker starts burbling, and Sam feels Bucky come up to stand beside him, his chin resting on Sam’s shoulder as he peers into the mixing bowl.

It’s like waiting Alpine out on the stairs earlier. Sam keeps working, measuring out his flour and whisking in baking powder and salt. Bucky nudges the carton of eggs over before Sam has to reach for them, and he just hums in acknowledgment when Sam thanks him.

“Evie went through a phase,” is what he finally says, when the batter is nearly done. “Right after Rose was born, when she wasn’t the baby of the family anymore. Any time she saw Ma holding the new baby, she’d want to be held, too. I got real good at juggling a two year old in one arm and whatever I needed to get done in the other. Then Ma went back to work, and I would sit up with Rosie when her colic got bad, walk her around the apartment until she calmed down enough to sleep.”

Sam can picture it perfectly: teenaged Bucky, still growing into the dashing good looks that were memorialized in all the textbooks, but with the same sense of duty that would keep him at Steve’s side years later, soothing tears and finishing fights in the same afternoon. There are so many skills that Bucky carries that Sam has watched him struggle with, not knowing whether HYDRA put them there or why he might have needed them. He can’t help but feel relieved that Bucky also gets to keep this, too, this muscle memory that belongs wholly to the person he was before tragedy could touch him.

It’s rare for Bucky to talk about his childhood at all, between the gaps in his memory and the grief over what he’s lost. As a rule, Sam tries not to make a big deal out of it when it happens, so in spite of how full his heart feels, he just leans into Bucky’s warmth, pressing a kiss to his cheek before he can pull away.

“Sounds like they were lucky to have you,” Sam murmurs.

“Yeah, maybe,” says Bucky, sniffing a little. “I guess so.”

“They were,” says Sam, more firmly this time. “Trust me. I know the feeling.”

He has the sense that Bucky’s about to argue, but then Jordan cuts him off with another well-timed, “Bah!”

“See?” Sam says, pointing at Jordan. “You have to listen to us. You’re outnumbered.”

Bucky lets out a gusty sigh, looking down at Jordan, who just coos at him. “I can’t believe you’d betray me like this.”

“He saw a better deal and he took it,” says Sam. “Sorry, baby.”

“Fine,” grouses Bucky. “I’m conceding, but I’m gonna be persnickety about it.”

“You can be as persnickety as you want, as long as you know I’m right,” says Sam, carrying the bowl of batter to the stove.

“In that case, if I tell you that you’re right again, will you add those pralines we bought to the pancakes?”

“I’m above flattery, Barnes,” he says, but now he’s thinking about brown sugar and pecan caramelizing against the pan and it sounds delicious. “But yeah, maybe.”

Bucky sets a coffee mug on the counter in front of him and steals a kiss. “Chocolate chips, too?”

“Don’t push it,” says Sam, but he’s already turning to grab the Toll House bag from the pantry, and he can’t even be that annoyed about it when Bucky crows about his victory.

It’s good to be home, he thinks, and throws a chocolate chip at Bucky’s head for good measure.

[idyllcy]

from one admirer to the other : socmed / penpal au

pairing: leon kennedy x reader, ada wong & reader (but with flirting >:)

synopsis: from one admirer to the other, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their email address! However, much like the name... the person you're writing to tends to be the person you actually admire... surely that's not the case for Leon?!

or, in which Leon, a rising model, is truly not immune to the Ada brainrot even as a model and stays up til 3 reading an ongoing 200k fic of Ada x reader written by none other than... you.

and you? best friends with said model, actually. how else do you write so well?

featuring: reader as poachedeggs // leon as rookiecookie // ada as adadadadadad

tweets:

letters:

To scrambled eggs:

it feels strange to write to someone in such a format, but I suppose I should get used to it. We got paired up via from one admirer to another because of our shared passion for Ada Wong. I find it a little amusing that someone else just straight-up put a model's name instead of modeling on its own, but I'm glad you did. As an ada stan, I feel the need to ask this immediately. How did you feel about her helicopter shoot? I'm hoping you aren't some weird stan like those... yeah. Also, while on that topic, if you're really as die-hard as me when I have free time, you should read glhf <3 by okaokra on ao3. It's gender-neutral, it's a great fic, unless, of course, you're too normal for reading fanfiction. In that case, hopefully we can find another middle ground other than Ada Wong.

Right, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm user Christmas, a weird translation + twisting of my real name. I live in Raccoon City, and I model as a part-time job because of ... you guessed it, ada wong. My dream role is to model with her, but considering that I'm only a local model, this is truly out of my reach. Maybe some strike of luck will help me? I used to dream of being a cop until I got scouted off the street by some guy for modeling. Do you think I suit it? Who am I kidding, you have no idea what I even look like. Tell me more about yourself, maybe?

signing off, Christmas

notice: this is a gauge post! if enough people are interested I'll actually plan it! promise. also, ooc warning ofc I just think it'd be fucking hilarious if leon owned a stan twt

[strangerthingsocweek]

WELCOME TO STRANGER THINGS OC WEEK!

This writing challenge is to encourage even more creativity in this fandom by encouraging you to create original character(s) within the Stranger Things universe! The event will take place between February 12-17 and have daily prompts (see below).

What does this mean? Your original character (OC) should be involved in the Stranger Things universe: maybe they are related to a canon character, maybe they moved to Hawkins during the Upside Down events, maybe they met a character later on, whatever way you can make them connect is fine!

The rules are simple: Along with the above statement, the only rules are to make sure to properly tag any submissions with content warnings at the top of the post AND put any explicit material under a read more.

Please consider using this type of format for your posts:

Title rating | word count | link to ao3 if applicable cw | tags

Here are the dates and themes for the event:

[February 12th: Introduction February 13th: Alternate Universes February 14th: Love In Every Form February 15th: Songs February 16th: 80s, 90s, Today February 17th: Favorite Tropes February 18th: Party Time]

You can take creative liberties with any prompt, but if you're worried about your idea not fitting the theme, feel free to message this blog!

A special thank you to @steves-strapcollection for introducing Tig to the Steddie fandom, and encouraging so many of us to create our own characters. This challenge would not be possible without you and your encouragement!

Please keep in mind that this is a creative exercise and overall engagement with original character-focused work may not be as high as it is with canon characters/ships. This should NOT stop you from enjoying this challenge! If anything, I hope you carry your OC(s) into your other fandom works as often as possible!

The following link is for the AO3 collection for this challenge. This will not be moderated, so please be considerate and only include submissions for this challenge in the collection. If you have a late submission, please feel free to add it to the collection when complete! Stranger Things OC Week AO3 Collection

[operationmorewhitecollar]

Shall we play a game?

Nope, not chess or Parchisi. And not even global thermonuclear war. (If you get that reference, you might just be as old as we are!) But no, none of those games are where we're headed. This year, we're hosting a good old-fashioned game of bingo!

That's right, since we're almost two weeks into the new year, we thought it might be time to roll out our new creative challenge, which will continue throughout 2024.

As always, we're in the market for any and all fan creations centered on White Collar, and this year, we're providing prompts in the form of mini bingo cards, with new prompt cards coming out quarterly. (Jan, April, July, October) If you want to play, just let us know (comment here, dm, however you want to get in touch), and we'll get you a card so you can get started!

Some details:

When we say "any and all fan creations," we mean it--let your creativity run wild and make whatever you want to make! Draw, write, paint, record a podcast, shoot a video, whatever your creative preference.

We're using a 4x4 card format, and there is a FREE space, so that means a total of 15 prompts for three months. Complete a line of prompts, get a bingo; complete the whole card during the quarter, and that, dear friends, is a blackout!

Much like our drabble prompts, the bingo prompts are pretty broad, and many (maybe most?) are only one word. They run the gamut from theme words to genre to story length and beyond. (Not to worry if you're making art or some other non-written creations; we've got provisions for swapping prompts.)

Prompts were randomized to create the cards, and the card numbers were randomized to create the distribution order, so the prompts you end up with are strictly luck.

Okay, that's probably the most important stuff to know, except, of course, that we hope lots of you will join in and that everyone has tons of fun creating new White Collar stuff, because we're sure going to have fun seeing whatever you make!

So whenever you're ready, shall we play a game?

(We'll put a few more detailed FAQ items below the cut, but if you've got questions we didn't think of, just let us know and we'll make up an answer.😉)

Q: What can my entries be? A: Any type of creation you choose. fic, art, blog post, essay, cross-stitch, we're not picky. Interpret the prompts any way you like, in any genre, any relationship, any rating, any characters, you get the idea. (Unless, of course, the prompt is more specific.) As long as it's White Collar, it's fair game.

Q: Where do we share our work/how will you know we made something or got a bingo? A: First, put your creations somewhere we can see them! There'll be a collection on AO3 where most types of work can be shared. (We're debating if it's better to have just one collection for the year or one for each quarter; if you've got any opinions on that, feel free to weigh in.) If you're sharing here or on other socials, be sure to @ us, and use #WhiteCollarBingo. But, while we'll be doing our best to keep up, we're hoping there will be so many entries we'll lose track, so definitely tell us if you completed a bingo!

Q: Can I make one story/picture/video/etc. for the whole card? A: You may use as many prompts as you like in each entry, but only 2 prompts per line may be counted toward a bingo. (So you will need at least two entries to achieve a single bingo, and though we may have miscounted, we think that means at least ten entries to make a blackout.)

Q: Are crossovers allowed? A: Yes (and may even be a prompt!), but White Collar should obviously be prevalent in your work.

Q: How long do I have to complete my entries? A: We'll be issuing new cards each quarter (Jan-March, April-June, July-Sept, Oct-December), and in a perfect world, we'd like to receive entries within that quarter. But you know we've never been sticklers for schedules, and the point is to encourage more White Collar creations, so we'll be glad to get them whenever you finish.

Q: What do I win when I bingo? A: Bragging rights, and your name on our (soon to be created) bingo accomplishments page.

Q: What if there are some prompts I really don't want to use, but I want to try for blackout? A: We will provide a max of two alternate prompts. (This max does not apply if you're making non-written creations and somehow ended up with a card full of writing-centric prompts.)

Q: What if I just can't work with the card I receive at all? A: We'll exchange your card one time. Part of the fun is stretching our creative muscles.

Q: If I exchange my card, will any previous entries count toward bingo on my new card? A: Nope. It's a fresh slate, so examine your card when you get it to decide if it works for you.

Q: If I complete my card, can I have another? A: Yep, and we'd be very impressed! (and happy!)

Q: Where did these prompts come from? A: Many suggestions from our followers, and we've been hunting and gathering, too. But we want to have lots of variety as the year rolls along, so please keep those suggestions rolling in.

Q: Can something I made for another challenge count toward a bingo prompt/Can I submit my work to more than one collection or challenge? A: As long as it's new work, and if the other challenge doesn't ask for exclusivity, bring it on! And frankly, we'd love to see more White Collar activity in multi-fandom spaces. Also, we'll surely be hosting other events throughout the year (at least Mozzie Mania and Caffrey-Burke Day), and you can certainly use a bingo prompt for any of those challenges as well.

[britcision]

Gonna try and sneakily post after dnd let’s see how fast I can yeet this up 👀 new chapter!!

(I was kinda considering pushing out the porn parody to push me over one million words on AO3, but I have to be in the mood to write good smut, whereas I’m damn near always in the mood for crack, so here we are

The porn parody has been started though, and the first chapter is edging its way to completion. I will be starting an entirely new taglist for the porn parody though, so do say in the comments here if you would like to be tagged in the first chapter of that!)

I got to use a little of my actual real life work knowledge for once in my life, instead of my unending stash of random knowledge 👀 it’s a bold new world and I bet you ANYTHING Bruce never documents his code

Eleven million backup plans for if marshmallows take over the world, but someone else sits to debug the batcomputer? Zip. Nothing. Fuck them if they can’t read Bruce they aren’t authorised to touch it

As may be rather obvious… We’re right up in the bats again this chapter, and Bruce is going to make some Inadvisable Decisions 😈

I’m sure this will have absolutely no consequences whatsoever! This chapter also came in a little short, since there’s not quiiiiite enough space left to squeeze in our next scene, Danny Attempts To Make Jason Kill Him In A Motorcycle Accident

This means we should not brick ANYONES’ tumblr! (Like that’ll happen, my poor mobile using fellows)

Note: there is a reason why I’m choosing when to use our various vigi’s human names while they’re masked, I didn’t miss one on the “edit” that is formatting this mess for Tumblr 😁

First Chapter and AO3 link:

Previous Chapter:

——————

One Fine Day In The Middle Of The Night

About twenty minutes after dropping Danny off at his dorm, Jason was suited up and ready to go.

Well, he’d stayed outside until he’d seen Danny shut the door behind him first. Jason had some fucking manners, though if pressed he couldn’t name who’d taught him them.

It was a habit older than the streets, watching to be sure his friends got to safety.

Danny’s dorm was about fifteen minutes from one of Jason’s better safe houses, as it happened. Jason had never been to a dorm, but from Danny’s stories?

A step below Teen Titans’ bunks, and those had sucked. Less privacy, smaller rooms, and more people? Who weren’t even part of the same team?

Maybe next semester Jason could offer to let Danny move in. He didn’t need need the safe house.

Red Hood could always buy the building. There were other apartments and while they weren’t luxurious, they beat half his other spots. The neighbourhood wasn’t bad either.

It’d be nice to pay Danny back a bit. Not have him closer. Just. Repay some of the debt by giving him a place to stay, rent free.

And maybe, just a little bit, the part of Jason that enjoyed the romanticism of his period novels kinda liked the idea. An estate for the king on your lands was a big deal back then.

A slightly more modern part of him thought being a landlord for his ruler would also be pretty funny. He figured Danny would enjoy that side too.

And it wasn’t like the guy could complain, since he’d literally given Jason back himself. Yeah, Jason was gonna pull that one out if Danny tried any familiar “oh I can’t accept this” on him.

Fixing his core was pretty damn god level on the favours spectrum. Jason could do whatever the hell he liked and Danny would just have to deal with it.

It cheered him up a little more, kept him in a good mood on the ride back to his safe house. It was more time where he couldn’t help Cass, but seriously?

Danny could change in a matter of seconds and be at her side not much slower. Walls, cars, goons, Jason had this feeling that none of it would slow Danny down.

And yeah, knowing that helped, but there was still a piece of him that only unknotted as he slid his helmet on and headed to the window.

“Hey, Black Bat. Busy?” He asked as the comms switched from earpiece to helmet display.

Of course he wore both. People kept trying to steal his damn helmet. That was also what the internal explosives were for.

The others all piped up when they heard him, Harper and Steph calling cheerful greetings around an ongoing conversation.

“Shit, Hood’s in, this mean I can go back to bed?” Bluebird teased. Spoiler cut her off immediately.

“Hell no, it can’t be a school night, Robin’s here! Great timing though Hood, we’re planning Red Robin’s eulogy and you have some experience there,” Spoiler chirped brightly, and Jason hesitated.

Sucked in a breath. He wasn’t gonna judge anyone else’s coping mechanisms until they got past “heads in a bag” levels.

Best to ignore it, since she wasn’t actually trying to set him off.

What the hell had Tim done since they’d left the manor?

Shaking his head, Jason settled into Red Hood and hopped onto the fire escape, scaling easily to the roof.

“Black Bat?” He repeated instead of answering, and half smiled when Spoiler groaned dramatically.

Black Bat answered in the considerate group pause.

“Not busy. Why?” She sounded amused, not even particularly tired, and Jason relaxed enough to slip all the way in.

“Thinking of going a little out of my way tonight. Wondered if you’d mind a tagalong?” Red Hood asked, hoping he sounded casual.

It wasn’t like he’d been planning to patrol the Alley anyway; his guys had already been told to handle it. He’d have to run around tomorrow night to keep the creepers scared, but he could have a couple off.

The tiny pause before her answer didn’t quite feel like judgement, but Jason muted before blowing out the sigh as she did. It wasn’t like the others needed to know he’d been stressing.

“Sure. Meet at library?” She’d had his tracker up. Hood nodded, turning and running for the edge of the roof.

“Sounds good.” And they’d probably wound Spoiler up enough, she’d start plotting vengeance for being ignored soon. “So what the hell did Little Red do?”

“Brought Too Fine to the Bat Cave,” Spoiler told him with relish, not noticeably put out by the delay.

Not necessarily a good sign, since she was also this enthusiastic while actively plotting against him.

Wait.

Too Fine was Tucker’s hacker name.

“But he doesn’t know about us,” Red Hood said with a frown, catching an outcropping and swinging on.

“Oh, now you tell me,” Tim groused while the others snickered, “what a shame you didn’t think to when it’d have actually been helpful!”

News to Hood that he was on, probably still in the cave.

“He knows now,” Nightwing chimed in brightly, probably also travelling from the slight strain in his voice.

Hood paused for a moment, letting that sink in before attempting the next jump.

“Is he on comm?” He asked warily, because if Tim brought Tucker to the bat cave, it was entirely possible that they were all outed.

And that Tucker might tell Danny he was Red Hood.

Shit, he still had to text Harley. Resolving to do it once he hit the library, he set back to running, throwing himself across another street.

Black Bat would probably take a little longer to get there.

“He’ll be back, he’s in the bathroom,” Tim explained with a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “It’s not all bad, he’s given me the full story on what happened in Amity Park. Witness account and all.”

“From a witness you let down to the bat cave~” Spoiler sang sweetly across the air.

Red Hood could hear Oracle rolling her eyes as she cut in.

“Tone it down, Batgirl. Bluebird, if you’re still thinking of heading in, could you swing past one last site on your way?” She said firmly, then lightening her tone for their current guest.

“Batgirl who? I’m Spoiler,” Spoiler grumbled, but didn’t push beyond that. None of them did when Oracle invoked the name she’d had before any of them masked up.

Bluebird snickered at her before answering the question, a hint of exertion suggesting she was on the move too.

“I’m not actually in a rush to go home, O, I got all dressed up so I might as well enjoy one last hurrah.”

Right, because she’d be going back to school probably when Danny did.

Harper had always been a damn good hero in Jason’s books, but she valued her retirement and none of them really wanted to ruin it. Unless, apparently, seven bats just had to stalk Jason’s new friends.

Hood would have apologized, but frankly if she’d said no, some of the others couldn’t have come to the gala to be a pain in his ass.

And then he couldn’t have had so much fun fucking with them.

Fine. One cool fruit basket for the Row household, and some rainbow cupcakes for Cullen. He needed practice on frosting roses anyway.

Although that also reminded him.

“Hey Bluebird, have the others filled you in on Phantom?” He asked, cutting off some more background chatter from Spoiler and Tim.

Nightwing and the girls had had hours by now.

“What, your new boyfriend?” Bluebird asked sweetly, and Hood rolled his eyes.

Probably hit the important shit then.

“Sent you a picture?” He asked instead, decidedly not entertaining that question.

Nightwing and Spoiler snickered. Hood flipped off their general directions, settling himself comfortably on the roof of the library to wait for Black Bat.

There was a short pause, the others now wondering what he was getting at. Good.

“In and out of suit,” Bluebird agreed, curiosity tinging with mild suspicion. Being out of retirement clearly wasn’t good for her.

Hood nodded, pulling out his phone and shooting Harley a quick text. It might be moot now, asking her not to mention Red Hood shit in front of Danny, but he might as well.

He still had to ask if Waylon knew. Might as well ask. And see if Tucker knew when he got back.

“I know you’re outta the game, but keep the light show to a minimum if you see him around, okay?” He asked, scanning quickly over the list Danny’d cleared for public discussion.

He didn’t know if Tucker would have mentioned it, but he might as well. Cause of death was good, but Jason personally would veto “and the effects it may have now”.

Because fuck Bruce and his need for everyone to show him their weaknesses.

Bluebird definitely sounded curious now, and possibly like she was punching someone.

“Oh? He not big on the electricity?” She wondered aloud, and Hood grimaced.

Because if they were both at Gotham U in engineering… there was actually a chance Harper and Danny would run into each other.

Danny was older, but Harper skipped a couple years and he had no idea what year Danny was in. Fuck, they might be in the same classes. He couldn’t believe he’d never thought of that.

“Not exactly. You mighta seen him around actually, he’s an engineer too. But he’s not a fan of the electricity flying around,” he explained, Nightwing making background noises that told Hood he hadn’t put the pieces together either.

Good. At least he wasn’t alone.

Bluebird made an interested hum, and probably a finishing blow considering the satisfaction when she spoke next.

“I thought he looked familiar. But then, he’s total Wayne-bait. Yeah, I can keep the good stuff under wraps if I see him around. Gonna guess he’s had some bad shocks in the line of work?”

Hood hesitated and in exactly the same instant Black Bat landed on the roof. Sam had given them all the warning about talking about a ghost’s death, so he could leave it at that.

But…

The way Danny had looked when he explained about Vlad. Yeah, he’d rather they took this seriously. He didn’t want any of his family to hurt Danny, even by accident.

“It’s how he died. He won’t spontaneously combust or anything, but it’s a bad memory.”

Silence reigned while the others absorbed that particular detail, Black Bat crossing to crouch on the roof beside him. Hood leaned over enough to bump their shoulders together.

He could almost feel concern radiating off her, which was an extra weird experience after literally feeling all of Danny’s emotions half the day.

Guess that was where Cass’s liminality was going. It made sense, kind of; despite her occasional trouble speaking, she was pretty much the clearest communicator in the family.

Having another back up way to make herself heard would only fit.

On a whim, he tried projecting comfort back to her. Black Bat didn’t seem to notice, though whether that meant more on her part or his was the question.

She leaned in and bumped him back, her expression unreadable between the full face mask and the shadows.

“Heard and understood, Hood,” Bluebird agreed after a minute, her tone unusually solemn. Hopefully Dickie would take it to heart too.

The odds of Danny running into Nightwing weren’t great if he stuck to Blüdhaven, but Dick was a nosy bastard and there was always one “emergency” or another.

Better than the odds of running into Bluebird, although Harper would almost definitely look him up at school.

Maybe Jason should warn him.

“Maybe you could build him a faraday suit,” Spoiler mused, and Red Hood snickered.

“Handy, but then we couldn’t contact him,” he reminded her and she groaned loudly.

“Hey, if we’re both techies he’ll probably have his own idea. I’ll look him up out of costume, it’s my turn to say hi,” Bluebird decided, and Hood shot Danny a quick text.

Just a heads up.

A picture of Harper, captioned “beware of sibling. May be looking you up in class”. Black Bat giggled beside him, head cocked to watch the screen.

Harper wasn’t technically one of the Waynes, but if Waylon counted she definitely had to, and it wasn’t like Bruce picked his family. Asshole.

A few minutes later he got a message back from Danny.

‘DannyP: !!!!! I know her! 😳😳🤯 She does the cool nanobots! Half our year is betting if she’s a rogue or a vigi 👀 inside info??’

Which was fair, since just knowing Jason wouldn’t be much of a hint either way.

“He knows you,” Black Bat reported to the others, Bluebird immediately bitching that she’d been ratted out.

Red Hood mostly ignored her, texting Danny back.

‘JTodd: Neither anymore. She was a vigi, but she’s retired and getting her degree. No idea if she’ll come back after.’

“Odds you’ll change sides and go rogue, Bluebird?” He asked into a pause, and very much enjoyed the momentary stumped silence. “Apparently there’s a hefty bet.”

Momentary, because everyone had an opinion on that and had to share it. Everyone except Bluebird herself, who seemed to be thinking it over.

“What’re the odds for rogue?” She asked thoughtfully, immediately defending herself as the group booed. “What! I have student loans!”

“You are my villain arc, Red Hood,” Spoiler declared as solemnly as she could through laughter.

“I’m my own villain arc thank you so much, go find your own,” he refuted with a half grin.

“Ask Phantom,” Black Bat advised Bluebird in the meantime, which was probably fair. They weren’t good at staying on topic.

She then gave Hood another gentle nudge, probably for the same reason. Flicked off her comm for a moment.

“Wanted to talk?” She asked, and yeah, they probably should get back to it.

He gave a shrug, hauling himself up and holding a hand back down to her. Definitely not feeling guilty.

They’d tell her before anything became relevant. It just.

Well.

They were a family of fucking detectives, who could never leave well enough alone, and Jason really didn’t want them questioning his humanity.

Just once, he’d like to know something about himself before anyone else did. To have time to understand and come to terms with what he was before Twenty Questions.

Cass was very good at not asking questions though. And Black Bat turned off her comm first. Tim was distracted, probably with Tucker coming back because he’d been quiet.

No better opportunity was likely to come up.

And really, she deserved the same courtesy. Knowing about herself before the others did.

Maybe she’d have some ideas on how to tell them.

Making up his mind, Hood tapped his comms and hauled Black Bat up with his other hand.

“Hey O, gonna be offline for a minute. Text if you need me or BB, we gotta be radio silent.” There were enough possible reasons for that, he didn’t bother giving one.

Just so long as they knew.

Usually he’d just turn the comm off and swear at her if she turned him back on if he wanted peace and quiet, but… well, it was nice to hear the background chatter.

Nicer when the big Bat himself wasn’t in the field to tell them to focus.

“I always need you, baby!” Nightwing called just before he clicked off, and Red Hood rolled his eyes under the helmet.

Dramatic bitch.

He looked back to Black Bat, wondering where would be the best place for this talk. She was watching him patiently, not moving.

It had been her patrol.

“Is there anywhere on your route we can talk privately?” He asked softly, a little surprised at himself. He’d been the one who wanted to wait.

But that just made it his call who he decided to tell what, and when. And Cass… he trusted Cass.

Besides, it wasn’t like he was liminal. It’d give them something to think until he was ready.

Black Bat regarded him for a moment longer, then nodded and made her way to the edge of the roof.

“Follow.”

**

The night was wearing on, but Bruce was darkly satisfied that they were finally making progress.

Constantine’s pacing (replacing his smoking; Bruce may not have bothered arguing in the cave, but even Constantine knew better than to light a cigarette in space) had finally slowed.

Something terrible had happened in Amity Park, but even the magician was grudgingly admitting it was probably over. Left permanent scars, but getting no worse.

Unless it was on a cosmic level and would be a slow seeping problem for millennia, but Alfred had Opinions about Bruce concerning himself with issues on that time scale.

There was only so much they could do in the moment.

Another survey of the city was required, and in person since even the League’s best couldn’t take clear pictures of Amity Park.

A fact which didn’t seem to have stopped the Amity Parkers from photographing and sharing pictures of each other, according to his children. Constantine hadn’t actually argued when Bruce compared it to background radiation, so it must be close enough.

He also hadn’t done more than grimace when Bruce asked if he wanted to undertake the survey personally. That was as good as an enthusiastic agreement.

First, though? First they needed to call a meeting of the Justice League, primarily the heroes located in North America.

They had been horribly uninformed of what was going on right under their noses, and if Constantine was right… Amity Park’s problems had begun to spread.

To Gotham.

To his children.

Constantine’s grumbling that it was the miasma of death that hung over the city drawing them in had not inspired confidence, and Bruce resolved to have Zatanna over at her soonest convenience to explain.

Helping Constantine put together a report on Amity Park itself had more than convinced Bruce not to ask Constantine, even if he could have done it today. The man was…

Well. Bruce wasn’t looking forward to having to run him through the JL’s classification system again. Maybe one of his children would want to go and handle the technical side.

All he had to do was finish preparing the presentation, call the League, and he could rest. It would likely take a day or two to put a full meeting together, but he could at least fill Clark and Diana in tonight.

He could sleep in between. Just for a little while.

Right after he showed Constantine how to configure the alerts from Amity Park to direct to the Justice League Dark, not the spam folder. They hadn’t sent one in years, but he was determined not to miss any changes.

That should have been the easiest part of this whole mess. It was just a simple form, with a basic test button to ensure it worked.

Nothing too complicated even for a man who’d decided “no reply needed” meant the same thing as “too dangerous for anyone but JL Dark”.

Fine. It was fine.

Bruce loved making training videos to highlight the most basic functions of a system and ensure that people actually understood what the various controls meant. Wonderful.

It meant that they could work in parallel for a while, Bruce on the presentation for the League, Constantine to fix his mistake. In a blissful silence, even.

It couldn’t last.

“It’s not working, Bats,” the magician declared, pushing back and away from his computer. Probably to pace again.

Bruce closed his eyes, breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth, and made his way across to frown at the monitor.

“Did you save your changes?” He growled, doing his best not to let the irritation show. It was getting harder every time.

Constantine rolled his eyes, definitely not helping, and pointed at the screen.

“See for yerself. Look, JLD Top Priority, like ya said. And then ya hit the top button to save, and the red button to test it, and nothing happens.”

He waited impatiently while Bruce clicked through the buttons, seeing it for himself.

Constantine wasn’t wrong. That was unexpected.

Brows furrowing under his cowl, Bruce checked the deleted requests. Three test messages from “Amity Park”.

“Hn.”

“Someone’s fucked ya system,” Constantine commented dryly, sounding unduly pleased that it wasn’t his fault.

Something other than his haphazard filing had apparently been causing some of their problems. Bruce… just didn’t have the time tonight.

He nodded over to his screen instead, pulling up his wrist computer to send a private message to Tim in the cave. How long could a tour take?

Tim could find what was going wrong long before he’d have the time.

“I’ve compiled most of the presentation on creatures of the Realms. Is there anything important I should add?” He asked gruffly and Constantine sighed dramatically and flounced over.

Bruce firmly ignored Steph’s voice in his ear.

Not because he didn’t agree, whatever a “woobie” was.

He just needed Constantine’s once over to confirm he had all the pertinent information, and then he could call Clark and Diana.

Head home.

Get to bed.

“Looks fine. I should check yer damn revenant some time soon too though.”

Bruce froze, finger just above the send button on that tech request to Tim.

His fucking what.

**

Black Bat led them easily across the city, along what was probably her normal patrol route. Taking her cue from Red Hood, she didn’t rush, but soon indicated that they turn off into a small alley between two warehouses.

Hell, not even a proper alley. A gap where the buildings hadn’t quite smushed together.

Red Hood recognized the area from Nightwing’s bitching; there’d been a bust here last week, and something had cloaked the whole block from surveillance.

These days, he was almost tempted to check what Danny knew about it. Ghosts fucked with technology in ways none of the bats would find.

Black Bat stopped them half way down the gap, feet braced against one wall and her back to the other, leaving her “sitting” about twenty feet off the ground.

Hood matched her a little further down, grumbling a little at the crush. Almost a foot taller, it wasn’t exactly a comfortable position for him, but he’d held worse.

They were stable, and damn near impossible to observe. This was as good as they’d get.

“So,” he began, and immediately realized he had no fucking clue what to say.

Black Bat’s flat, expressionless mask was not helpful.

Hood wished he could pull his helmet off, just to run his hands through his hair. But they were on patrol.

Black Bat just waited, silent and patient while he wrestled with himself. Finally he decided to just spit it out.

“Danny died, and came back,” he said in a rush, glancing over to her.

Black Bat nodded.

“Like you.”

“Like us,” Hood corrected, groaned, and switched off the voice modulator. Actually, fuck it, he had his domino on.

He pulled the helmet off, balancing it in his lap. He could shove it back on if it came time to go.

Black Bat was beside him now, almost close enough to touch. Close enough to lean in and bump their shoulders together.

“One main difference,” she noted thoughtfully, then tapped her chest, “no skin change.”

Which, yeah, Jason had been hoping to emphasize before any of the family got too far down the right track.

“Right,” he agreed, leaning back to stare blankly into the smog of Gotham above them.

Fuck. How do you even say it? How do you tell someone they’re not fully human anymore?

Someone like Cass, who’d been raised to believe she’d never been human, by force. Just a weapon.

Her hand was in his now, and he couldn’t be sure if he’d reached out or she had. He stared down at their laced fingers instead.

“You know how people get when they spend too long around the pit water,” he began slowly, trying a different path.

Cass had been raised around the League of Assassins. She knew.

And took the change of topic fully in stride, nodding and giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Erratic,” she mused softly, her face tilted to the wall across, “unpredictable, especially if they went in.”

No one was going to say Ra’s Al Ghul was an unstable mess of a man, but no one had to. Still, how controlled he was was impressive, especially after you saw what mere exposure to the fumes did to other people.

Red Hood nodded, sighing softly.

“Danny’s parents kept it in the fridge. He was… exposed long before he died,” he explained quietly.

If he was talking about himself, he’d say “contaminated”. Hell, it was the word Danny used when explaining it to the bats.

Jason just couldn’t use it about Danny. It just wasn’t right.

Black Bat stilled, almost enough to be mistaken for a statue instead of a living being. Was that her liminality too? Or just her training?

Red Hood couldn’t stand it either way, giving her hand a gentle tug.

“He told me… being around it too long can change a person, even if they never get dunked,” he said slowly, trailing off again.

“We got dunked,” Black Bat said quietly, her hand curling more tightly around his. There was no hint of emotion in her voice, and Jason hated it.

Pulled her closer, doing all he could to project comfort-sorry-concerned-love you. Wishing he’d asked Danny to teach him to do that first.

Neither of them had really considered he’d need it, since Danny was so good at reading him. But he needed her to know she wasn’t alone.

Her shoulders hunched suddenly, body tensed to spring until her head snapped round to focus on him.

He could… he could feel surprise from her. Maybe it was working.

He gave a graceless half shrug, grinding his shoulders against filthy bricks.

Tried to project yeah it’s weird for me too, but wasn’t sure how well it came across. Anything beyond pure feelings was a little tricky for him to push, though he could usually work out what Danny was saying.

“We got dunked,” he agreed quietly, resolving instead to wrap her in love-protect-safe-safe-safe, “and sometimes… that changes you even without a flashy transformation.”

It was an awful explanation and he knew it, could practically feel her eyes darting all over his face, his posture, reading things he probably wasn’t aware he was showing.

Then she relaxed all at once, settling in and leaning part of her weight on him as well as the wall. He braced automatically to take it. He wouldn’t let her fall.

“He called it being “liminal”,” he explained softly, working an arm around her shoulders above the wall to coax more of her weight onto him. “I don’t know what it means for you yet, BB. But nothing bad. He was sure it wouldn’t be bad.”

Black Bat made a soft humming sound, obediently shuffling so he could wrap his arm around her. Looking down at their still twined hands.

“Can feel you,” she said softly, hand rising to tap gently against the red bat on his chest. “Big brother.”

It startled a bark of laughter out of him, because… well, yeah. A good way to sum up everything he’d wanted to tell her without words.

Felt a quick rush of satisfaction from Black Bat, and tried to answer it with relief-agree-protect.

“Yeah, that’s the fuckin’ weirdest part,” he agreed dryly, almost felt the rush of her giggle more than he heard it. “Apparently some liminals get this… aura around them. Sharing what they feel. I didn’t know if you would…”

What? If she’d notice? If she’d be able to feel the same things?

Black Bat nodded, head tipping up to meet his gaze once again.

“Robin? Batman?” She asked, and Jason hesitated.

He couldn’t talk to either of them about it. Not yet. Bruce would fucking push, he always did, and wouldn’t stop until he tore the secrets out of him. Damian would just run to Bruce.

But it was a valid question. And they did sort of deserve to know just as much.

For now he took refuge in what he knew, shrugging it off.

“Danny thinks they’re liminal, but… not as far along as we are.”

Not as close to death. Not as close to not being human, although technically they were both legally non-sentient, so that was fun.

“D’you really think either of them have the emotional bandwidth to share?” He tried to joke, covering the moment.

Black Bat just stared at him until he fell silent. Then nodded.

“Should tell them. No rush,” she added almost before Jason could tense, leaning back in and resting her head on his shoulder, “have been for a while, yes?”

Jason paused a moment longer, shook his head, and snickered.

“Cannot believe I ever doubted you’d be able to do the whole “emotional telepathy” thing,” he grumbled good naturedly, and Black Bat glowed with gentle amused.

“Better than you,” she told him archly, sounding for a moment like Steph when she was teasing Tim. Jason gave her a squeeze.

“Don’t I know it. But yeah, it’s not a new thing, and won’t mean anything to anyone unless one of us dies again.” Which he wasn’t going to think about.

Shit, someone said Robin was out tonight.

Nope. Not thinking about it. Robin had been patrolling for years, and as much as he whined about his solo patrol route, he never deviated.

Not after Oracle had highlighted his route on his wrist computer for him and proved she could see every footstep. She wouldn’t necessarily tell Bruce, but she’d always know.

Black Bat nodded, resting against him for a moment longer before sitting up again.

“You want to wait.” It wasn’t a question, but he felt compelled to answer.

Picked up his helmet, turning it over slowly in his hands. But of course she’d understand. She always did.

“I want to know what this means to me before I have B poking and prying into every part of my life,” he said quietly, staring into the eye slits of the helmet.

Black Bat ruffled his hair.

“Can wait,” she agreed gently, switching her position to have a hand and foot on either wall. Ready to move on. “No rush.”

Red Hood pulled his helmet back on and matched her, the pair climbing quickly out of the crack between the warehouses. It almost wasn’t worth saying, but…

“You can tell the others if they ask. I just…”

“Don’t want questions,” Black Bat agreed lightly, flipping up onto the roof. “Can ask Danny when the time comes.”

“Yeah,” Red Hood agreed, crouching beside her. “Mind if I stick with you on patrol tonight?”

He sort of hoped she’d think it was unrelated, but another moment of stillness passed across her as she regarded him.

“Until we die again,” she repeated his own words, and Hood was pretty happy she couldn’t see his face anymore as he grimaced.

Not that it mattered, another shot of amused shooting between them, followed by a much softer appreciated.

At least she wasn’t judging him for being a mother hen.

“Understand.”

**

Tim and Tucker had made quick work of the interview, and Tim was pretty much running out of questions when the batcomputer pinged with an incoming message.

Tucker gave it a longing look and Tim chuckled softly, wheeling himself over.

“Hang on. Might be one of the others out on patrol,” he explained, right clicking to pull up the monitor that tracked the bats’ various dominos out and about.

Tucker stared up at it politely, diverting his attention from what Tim was doing on the other screen, no matter how curious he was. Showing trust and all that.

It was actually really cool too; he’d not really seen a map of Gotham, and having one superimposed with little glowing lights of the various heroes on patrol was really cool.

It wasn’t really zoomed in enough to tell if Bluebird was actually in a fight, but the little blue dot seemed to be the only one standing still, so Tucker assumed she was.

How cool would that be? Watching just normal human vigilantes fight and take down bad guys?

Although off the top of his head, he could already think of a couple of things to add to the monitoring program. They might already be there, he hadn’t clicked around, but like.

Vitals were all well and good, down in the corner next to each hero’s name and the colour of their dot, but just the heartbeats? That wouldn’t tell you enough.

Tucker preferred brainwaves, because then you could tell if they’d been hit with something or overshadowed.

Although maybe it was because he’d spent his time keeping track of a guy who pretty regularly did not have a heartbeat. And it also gave him more data points for some of his cooler side projects.

Understanding the different brainwave patterns an individual made in different situations was a key part of neural mapping, and adding it to the bat’s routine would get him a ton of data.

And then they could really play Mariokart.

He’d have to ask Tim if they tracked any of that later. Not all the bats wore helmets or cowls that would support the electrodes, apparently. Although if Danny could get his hands on a domino…

Tucker was snapped back to the here and now as Tim pushed back from the batcomputer, a wry grin on his lips.

“Actually, I think this might be something you could help with, Tucker. If you don’t mind a little work on your night off?” He teased, back to Tucker’s complaints about a night of fun and tech.

Like getting to play on the batcomputer did not absolutely count as fun and tech.

Tucker beamed, excitement welling up in him and cracking his knuckles. It’d be pretty cool to assist a human vigilante too. And on a tech problem!

Gotham was fucking great. If Tim really meant it about getting him an internship, Tucker might have to see about switching schools.

MIT was great, but it wasn’t Wayne Enterprises, personal meetings, or personal tech demonstrations with Tim Drake Wayne!

“Sure! What’s going on?” He asked, shuffling over to look at the other screens now that he had permission. Making sure it was obvious he hadn’t been looking.

Resisting temptation had been hard. He deserved credit.

Tim nodded to the screen, and that? That was a message from Batman. Bruce Wayne. Batman.

Tucker scanned the message, eyes widening even as Tim spoke.

“Wanna help debug the Watchtower?” Tim asked, and Tucker clutched at the back of his chair as his heart leapt, swooning just a little.

The Watchtower. The actual Watchtower. In space. Oh he was shoving that in Danny’s face for not telling him he was friends with the Bats!

There was only one real question left.

“Will Oracle be here?” He asked eagerly, looking around the rest of the screen.

A soft chuckle played from a speaker in the bottom corner, and Tucker jumped half a mile as a masked voice spoke.

“You boys have fun with this one, I’ll keep an eye on the city. If you finish early you could walk me through that server of yours?”

Oracle.

The Oracle.

They were real, they talked to him, they wanted to talk about his locked down servers! Tim lunged to catch him as Tucker collapsed, knees giving out under the swell of emotion.

All of his dreams were coming true, all at once.

He’d never been happier.

**

Danny was having a pretty quiet night in. That didn’t used to be unusual while he was in Gotham; having time to himself was still pretty much a novelty, and he wasn’t exactly a party boy.

Of course, it was a night in with some of his parents’ inventions and recently one or two of his own, so the actual “quiet” part was negotiable.

Quiet enough not to piss off his dorm mates, but luckily most of them were engineers too. They may not always know what he was doing, but they were usually interested.

Tonight, he was alone, most of the floor still being home for the holiday. That had been one of the things he’d looked forward to most about staying behind, but…

Well, after his noisy and action packed few days… he was lonely.

He wished he’d asked Jason to stay. Just because he’d said he was going to bed didn’t mean he had to do anything of the sort.

It was just that Jason had been… tense. He’d not even gotten off the bike when they arrived, just pulling over and chatting for a minute before heading out.

Like he wasn’t fully comfortable going into Danny’s place, which was kinda fair. Unlike Jason’s apartments, Danny’s dorm was a communal space.

Even if most of his dorm mates weren’t home, there was still a chance one of them might turn up. And then Danny would have someone else bugging him about his “boyfriend”.

Nope.

Besides, he’d see Jason again at 11am (he had this horrible feeling Jason might be a morning person), so it wasn’t even all that long. He should probably just go to bed.

He should check his class schedule, actually. Work out what days he’d have free, work out when he and Jason could skip to the Zone for fight club.

Wait.

Would Jason be free.

What the hell did Jason do for a living? He’d have to ask at some point, Danny mused, logging in and taking a screenshot of his class schedule for the new year.

For now, it was probably best just to send Jason the picture so he’d know when Danny was free, and then Jason could work out a good time for them to go and it wouldn’t be Danny’s problem.

Excellent. Sheer genius.

Humming happily to himself, Danny pulled up Jason’s number and sent the picture of his schedule, with the caption:

‘Let me know when ur free for field trips 👊🏻💥👻’

Eyes closing for a moment, Danny let his awareness drift out across the city. It wasn’t something he’d done a lot; Gotham wasn’t his haunt and he didn’t want to step on any toes.

Usually he’d just expand his conscious aura if he was looking for someone, but knowing how much Jason didn’t like it… well, his passive aura covered most of the state, so reaching through the same city couldn’t be all that hard.

Right?

Frostbite could find anyone, anywhere in the Far Frozen with little more than a thought. And was convinced Danny would be able to do that with the entire Zone, some day.

Danny was a little less convinced. Past the background awareness that he was no longer in Amity Park that had taken months to fade, he’d never really paid attention to his passive aura.

It’d be too tempting to feel out the rogues, or at least react to the sudden surges of aggression and danger. But he hadn’t had anyone to protect before, and he knew Jason would feel better knowing Danny could.

That was kinda why Danny hadn’t mentioned how theoretical this particular ability was, although he had no doubt he’d recognize Cass’s energy if she came close to death.

Which meant he should totally recognize it while she was alive, well, and had more energy, right?

He had no idea where she was, which parts of Gotham fell on her patrol route, but that kinda helped. It meant he couldn’t trick himself by focusing on a particular area.

Surprising precisely no one though, he found Jason first. The other halfa almost glowed when Danny was focusing on his energy, a bubbling little ball of yellow and red.

He… was maybe with Cass? Danny’s brows furrowed, nose scrunching as he tried to focus without changing his aura.

He was definitely with one of the liminals. And that quiet little light, almost blue, felt sort of like Cass. When he forced himself not to be distracted by Jason’s brighter glow.

Eyes snapping open, Danny’s concentration broke and he frowned up at the ceiling.

Well, that explained why Jason was in a hurry to get going. He was no expert in Gotham herself yet and had no idea where the two of them were, but if he tried again he could probably work it out.

Did Jason still have a suit? Or did he call Cass in, find something he could do as a civilian to have her help?

Shrugging to himself, Danny dismissed the question and hauled himself up. Might as well get to bed; they’d be back together in the morning and he could always ask.

**

Tim was scrolling through the code for the alert messaging system itself while Tucker went through the sections that pertained to Amity Park specifically on his PDA when the other boy made a sudden, startled squeak.

Tim considered pretending he hadn’t heard, but there was a chance he’d found the answer. So he glanced over.

“Any luck?” He asked, noting Tucker’s sudden strained expression. Maybe the guy needed the bathroom actually. They’d been down here a while.

Tucker laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“So… uh… what exactly does the bug we’re looking for do?” He asked in a small voice, looking more embarrassed than Tim had ever seen.

Which… was not a proportionate response for that noise. And a question that they both probably should have thought of sooner.

He’d meant to mention it, since they’d have to explain it to the Amity Parkers at some point.

“So… remember how the Justice League never responded to an alert from Amity Park?” Tim asked not a little sheepishly himself.

Tucker nodded, not actually looking any less embarrassed himself either. That was definitely a great sign.

Tim sucked in a deep breath and forged ahead.

“So, it turns out there’s a bug in the Watchtower’s systems, where anything coming in from Amity Park gets marked as spam and funnelled straight into trash. We fixed the marking as spam thing, which I guess was user error, but it’s still-”

“All going to trash,” Tucker finished with a sigh, grimacing and shaking his head, “aaaaand I think I know why. But the timeline doesn’t make sense?”

That… that wasn’t even on the same continent as what Tim’d expected he’d say.

“The timeline?” He asked, brows furrowing, sliding over to peek at Tucker’s screen.

Tucker shook his head again, angling it so that Tim could see… a section of code that shuddered faintly in and out, almost disappearing entirely every few seconds.

That.

That was not a thing that should be happening.

Tim would have loved for it to be a simple screen glitch, but it was only that one small section of code. The lines above and below were fine, and Tucker could move the flickering chunk up and down.

“Yeah, this is your problem,” the Black man sighed, wiggling the section demonstratively, clearly aware of Tim’s shattered hopes.

Heartless man. Genius man.

“You’ve had ghosts in your back end. Probably wouldn’t even show up on an uncontaminated device. Which, by the way…” he trailed off, and Tim shook his head immediately.

“Not tonight. No changes to the batcomputer without Bruce’s say so,” Tim said firmly, since he’d already fucked up once. Might as well limit the damage.

Tucker shrugged and nodded back to the section of code.

“Okay. But this… this was definitely Technus. And that makes no sense? He’s a spirit of technology, we’ve fought him a bunch of times, but if he got into the Watchtower’s code he wouldn’t just… hide,” he tried to explain, adjusting his beret fussily.

It totally wasn’t adorable.

Tim did his best to keep up though, nodding along and thinking back over everything they’d been told about ghosts so far.

“You think we’d have noticed?” He asked, and Tucker snorted.

“He likes making giant robot bodies out of toasters, you’d definitely have noticed him on your space station,” he agreed dryly, then sighed.

Frowned down at the tablet again.

“I mean, Danny could make him do it and behave himself now, but if these changes were active during the whole Pariah Dark thing… I dunno, Technus should have been a way bigger problem. He’s not subtle.”

Tim frowned, thinking about what Tucker had said and then pausing.

“Danny could make him behave now?” He asked and Tucker pulled another face. Like he hadn’t meant to say that.

“Well, yeah, Danny’s miles out of Technus’ league now,” he tried to brush it off with a laugh, “the guy knows he’ll lose any fight so he’s really not a problem anymore. We have hackathons,” he added and Tim really wanted to know more about that.

There was just. Something off about Tucker’s answer. Not the content itself, just the way Tucker clearly wasn’t saying something.

That was a problem for future Tim though. Present Tim had a job to do.

“So can you fix what he did?” He asked the important question, and Tucker made another face.

“Dude… whoever or whatever made Technus do this, will probably notice if we fuck with it,” he said warily, and Tim shrugged.

“Whoever or whatever made Technus do it couldn’t do it themselves. How would they know?” He shot back, and Tucker chewed his lip.

Shook his head.

“Lemme text Danny. He’s the ghost expert, he’ll know how much we should worry about this,” he explained quickly, pulling out his phone and shooting off a short message.

Tim gave him his very best deadpan expression.

“How much we should worry about technology ghosts getting into space and fucking with Justice League HQ. I have the feeling the answer is “a lot”?” He offered sweetly, and Tucker snickered.

“Yeah, well, we’ll see. Might actually be alright, if this is all he touched. And, since you won’t let me juice the big computer, we’d have to scan the whole thing through my PDA. Every line of code,” he added, like Tim wasn’t already dreading it.

Tim sucked in a slow breath, weighing his options.

Touching the batcomputer? Ultimate no-no. But Tim’s personal laptop… it had access to the Watchtower’s systems, and was under Tim’s personal control.

And would let Tim go through the sensitive data himself, which the core code of the Watchtower was full of. The question was, did he trust Tucker not to install anything dangerous?

That question had been answered the second he asked Tucker to help him debug though. Clearly the guy could already put what he wanted, where he wanted, and with their current tech?

None of the bats would ever know. At least if Tim’s computer got the update, he’d have a chance at spotting ecto-infused code.

There were other computers they could use of course, old or unnetworked computers that Bruce would probably insist they start with.

Which wouldn’t be able to access the Watchtower’s servers, and couldn’t hold the whole thing to be able to run a useful check.

The answer really was kinda obvious.

Tim looked to Tucker, who’d been texting away while he thought things through.

“We can’t do the batcomputer, but is there anything you could do for my laptop tonight, or do we have to wait on Danny still?” He asked, deeply regretting that they’d gone to video games instead of the tech upgrade.

At the time he’d been planning on having a burner laptop done though, so it probably wouldn’t have been as useful.

Tucker shrugged cheerfully and slid his phone into his pocket, cracking his knuckles.

“Well, I can’t give you the full infusion to let you open Amity’s encrypted data, but I can write you a little something that should expose Technus’s code even without it,” he offered, and Tim brightened up.

“How long?” He asked eagerly, wondering if Tucker would let him watch. It’d be fair if he didn’t, Tuck had been cool about not looking when Tim played on the batcomputer, but…

Tucker smirked, flicking open a new screen on his PDA.

“How long will it take you to get the laptop down here?” He asked smugly.

Tim booked shit to the elevator.

**

Private Chat: DannyP & TooFine

2:15am

‘TooFine: Danny when tf did u have Technus hack the JL’

‘DannyP: ……. 👀 u cannot prove i did that 🚫🚫’

‘TooFine: I’m helping Tim debug the Watchtower’

‘TooFine: double fuck u for not telling me about Batman btw’

‘TooFine: someone sent all the Amity alerts to trash’

‘TooFine: if we keep talking about this I might accidentally send something to the group chat 🤨’

‘DannyP: FUCK FINE DONT TELL SAM 🏳️🏳️🏳️’

‘DannyP: after the pd thing’

‘DannyP: cw called’

‘DannyP: they hadnt been reading the messages anyway i just’

‘DannyP: shitty people track the jl y’know? and i didnt want em knowing about us’

‘DannyP: let em all think its a joke and then no one else comes an tries to use our portal to harness the realms and blow up superman or whatever’

‘TooFine: dude u fucking told me to tell them what actually happened??’

‘TooFine: pretty sure anyone tracking the jl will work that out now’

‘DannyP is typing’

‘DannyP is typing’

‘DannyP is typing’

‘DannyP: ok so maybe i didnt think that through 😔😔😔’

‘TooFine: no shit. I’m fixing the code in case any new alerts come through but it’s not like they’ll bother to call’

‘DannyP: not like they need to, frighty’s got em covered 🗡️🗡️🎃’

‘TooFine: yeah yeah. I’ll set it to ping u too’

‘DannyP: ur the best tuck 🙇🏻‍♂️🙇🏻‍♂️🙇🏻‍♂️’

‘TooFine: better than u deserve’

**

Across the city, Red Hood and Black Bat had stopped for smoothies. Patrol was quiet, and word on the street was that Bluebird was mostly to blame.

Nobody wanted to know why she was back and taking no prisoners, so even the docks were almost deserted.

Then again, with Riddler and Waylon snapped back off the streets, Penguin lying low in fear of Harley, and Batwoman making Two Face’s life a personal hell?

Yeah, no wonder the smaller players were lying low.

Hood had pulled his phone out to check in on the Alley in case they’d be more useful there when he noticed a message from Tucker’s private chat app.

It was from Danny.

Danny had sent him his class schedule. Told Jason to let Danny know when he was free. Like class was the only thing that’d stop Danny from wanting to see him.

Jason was so lost in staring at his phone, utterly swamped in the implications, that he didn’t even notice Black Bat finish her smoothie and swap out her empty cup for his.

Danny wanted to see him again.

He’d have to work out a proper schedule of his own.

**

Bruce was having a Bad Day. An extended bad day, one that was fast approaching 48 hours long.

As if everything with Amity Park wasn’t already bad enough, both in the past and the present, now Constantine believed there was something wrong with Jason.

That his son wasn’t fully human anymore.

Now, Bruce’s best friends weren’t even a quarter human between them, and no matter what everyone seemed to think he was perfectly happy with meta humans.

So long as they kept themselves safe.

Preferably where they wouldn’t be mind controlled, kidnapped, or held hostage every few days. Frankly being a meta was probably stressful enough even in a normal city.

But he’d keep Gotham’s metas as safe as he could, just like Duke.

But Jason… Jason had been born human. Had lived as a human, died as a human, and Constantine seemed so sure he’d come back as something else.

“Revenant” the man had called him. An animated corpse that haunted the living, powered by rage.

Bruce might even have believed it two years ago, when Jason first returned. Jason had been so angry, intent on destroying Tim when the other was just a child.

When Jason was little more than a child.

But… that wasn’t all he was. He was himself, truly Jason Todd in ways Bruce hadn’t wanted to believe. He’d fought his rage and won every day.

Most days.

And being around Amity Park, being around Daniel James Fenton, might be enough to push him back over. To drag Jason closer back to death.

Halfas could act as psychopomps, bringing lost souls safely to the other side.

Jason had only just become himself again. They had only just begun healing the rift between them.

Bruce couldn’t lose him again.

They had to keep him away from Amity Park. It was as simple as that really; something in Jason’s resurrection had gone wrong and they all knew it.

Even Jason himself wouldn’t argue with that. Something about his death clung to him, poisoned him with that violent green rage.

His children’s reports told him that Danny was claiming to help with the pit rage because he had also been exposed. But what if he was just helping the pit?

Even if he didn’t mean to, exposing Jason to that much power that closely tied to death couldn’t be good. Constantine hadn’t exactly said as much, but Bruce could read between the lines.

Death magic was contagious between those who’d been infected. Who’d died and come back.

That wasn’t fun to know. Not with how many of his children, his friends had all died before.

Even he himself had. He’d have to investigate Amity Park personally. Take the risk himself, to keep it from the others.

Tim and Duke could help, but they were both so busy with their own lives. He would have to wait and see.

His meeting with Clark and Diana hadn’t gone well either. They’d both been gratifyingly concerned with what he’d learned and had recognized the threat.

Clark had promised to keep an ear out for Jason, to listen in on his heartbeat and make sure he was okay. Bruce would have been grateful, if Clark hadn’t also told him that Jason’s heart was noticeably slow.

Easy to pick out, even if they hadn’t spent much time together.

Just how close was his boy to dying again?

Diana had advised caution. Wanted to speak to Danny herself, see the hero who had shouldered the burden of this small town. See if he had turned under the pressure.

Pressure that should never have been his. Pressure they should all have shared, protecting the child and the town together.

It would be his fault if Danny had broken. Had given in to whatever in the Infinite Realms had stolen a whole town away.

Bruce knew that with a leaden certainty, felt the weight of it settle in his chest. The same way he knew he was responsible for most of his rogues.

He could see the wisdom in letting Diana talk to the man first. She was wiser than most of the League, and a good judge of character. Even without her lasso, it was hard to lie to her.

But if what Constantine said was true, he didn’t want to tip their hand. Zatanna and Shazam had both agreed to attend tomorrow and give their own opinions.

They could afford to wait one night. Perhaps two, if Danny couldn’t be found tomorrow.

Just about the only thing Bruce wasn’t worried about was Danny running. If he had ill intentions, he wasn’t the sort to give in and disappear so easily.

He’d threatened Bruce to stay out of things between him and Jason. And certainly wasn’t afraid of a fight.

Bruce was also quite sure that he and Diana could take the boy if it came to it, even with the abilities Constantine ascribed to the realms. He would find a way.

But not tonight, he reminded himself firmly as he strode into the zeta tube. Tonight he would go home, update his children, and get some sleep.

Maybe waiting a day or two to speak to Danny directly would help. This concussion had passed frustrating and was beginning to affect his decision making.

Shaking his head to clear it, Bruce hit the button to send him home. Soon he could rest. At least for a little while.

**

A gentle buzzer went off in the cave and Tim yelped like he’d been stung, clutching at Tucker’s arm in an entirely unmanly way.

“SHIT he’s back hide the candy canes!”

Tucker stared at him wide eyed, but to his credit the other man didn’t hesitate to sweep the pile of different flavoured canes off the desk and into the front of his shirt.

“Where?!” He asked, and Tim hesitated for half an instant.

The zeta tube was down by the cars. Bruce would be up in less than a minute. Spinning Tucker by the shoulders, he shoved him towards the infirmary.

“Get in there! Don’t come out til I say!” He hissed, already hearing the zeta tube’s door whoosh open.

Tucker obediently scurried away, and thank fuck he was quick on the uptake enough to drop his voice below a whisper.

“What?! Tim, what?! Am I not supposed to fucking be here?!” He hissed, and Tim pulled the infirmary door almost shut before darting back to the table.

He’d cleared it with Bruce, had texted about giving their guests a tour, but since it turned out that Tucker hadn’t already been in the know… well, he wanted to prime Bruce with the good news first.

The tube only pinged once though, so Constantine hadn’t come back with him. That was probably good. Bruce would be less cranky.

Tim wasn’t exactly back in his seat by the time Bruce reached the batcomputer, but he was close enough to watch him note the second chair.

Tim didn’t let him ask.

“I have a first hand witness account of what happened in Amity Park.” That was the important thing, right? That they had answers.

Bruce stared at him for a long moment, eyes narrowed and the whiteouts narrowing with them. Tim stared him down, refusing to look away.

He’d fucked up just like, a tiny bit. But he’d gotten results. Better results than anyone else. So was it really a fuck up?

He watched Bruce’s eyes widen as he realized, and was a little surprised when the man’s shoulders slumped. He dropped gracelessly into the swivel chair, elbows propped on the table and his head cradled in his hands.

Tim was growing a little alarmed now, hurrying forward to Bruce’s side. Was he injured? Had something happened?

His hand was just reaching out to touch when Bruce sighed and sat back up.

“Tim. Who did you bring to tour the cave?” He asked in a tired, heavy voice, and Tim’s brows furrowed.

What? He’d said, hadn’t he?

“Tucker Foley?” He said cautiously, wondering if he should call Alfred. Maybe switch out Bruce and Tucker and get the big guy into the infirmary.

Bruce was very still. Tim forged ahead, hoping to get to the good news.

“He was a vigilante back in Amity Park, part of the support team. I have his statement going back to the beginning of the ghost attacks, and he’s already answered most of our questions.”

Leaning past Bruce, he hit a couple of keys and brought up the sound file of Tucker’s interview.

Bruce was still a little slow as he turned to look, but it seemed to hearten him. Which was when Tim realized.

“Wait. Who did you think I was bringing?” He asked, brows furrowing in confusion.

Bruce shot him a sidelong frown, pulling off his cowl.

“Not a stranger,” he growled, though his heart clearly wasn’t in it. He just sounded tired.

Tim carefully patted him on the shoulder, still thoroughly confused.

“What? But I said…” he paused, pulling out his phone and staring at the texts.

Nope. No he didn’t.

Oops.

Groaning, Tim let his head drop.

“Ah fuck, and I thought we were doing so well!” He sighed heavily and Bruce made a grunt that might have been a laugh. “Alfred’s going to be unbearable.”

That shut Bruce right up, as it should, and then Bruce sighed again. They were moving past it then. Probably for the best, since Alfred would lecture them both on the importance of communication later.

At least it wasn’t only Tim’s fault. The only person who wasn’t a stranger or a bat had been Harley, and he wasn’t actually sure if Harley had cave privileges.

Well. She did now. Since that was what Bruce must have thought he was asking.

Then Bruce straightened, eyes determined and steely.

“I have new information from Constantine. The risks of the Infinite Realms.” It definitely heartened him to talk about, skipping straight to the debrief part of the day.

Maybe they could just skip right over the Tim-fucked-up-and-brought-a-stranger-to-the-cave.

“I need you all to keep away from the Amity Parkers until I know more.”

Ah.

No then. Nope, not skipping over it, because Tucker was actively still fucking in the cave. It was for the best that they’d hidden him then.

Tim shook his head firmly, hoping that if he seemed certain that would help.

“That’s not gonna work, Bruce. I couldn’t have fixed our Watchtower problem without Tucker, and we can’t look at any of the Amity Park data without an Amity Park device.” It was the theory they’d been running with, but they’d had it confirmed now.

Never mind that Tucker had already downloaded most of what was publicly available for them. Bruce would always want a primary source anyway.

Tim pretended it didn’t affect him when Bruce’s head jerked, eyes narrowed as he scowled at Tim.

“You let him into the code for the Watchtower?!” He exclaimed in a hiss. Which was interesting, since Tim had kinda figured the bat cave thing would be more personal.

Then again, the Watchtower could compromise more than that.

“Bruce, read the report on Tucker. We literally couldn’t stop him if he wanted to hack in, because his tech runs on levels that slide right past ours. Tech he’s already sharing,” he added sharply, reaching behind him without looking to hook his laptop forwards.

Bruce, mouth already open to argue, quieted at once. Yeah, new toys always helped. Tim nodded to the batcomputer.

“The update’s ready to go live, but I waited because you need to see this. Open the third window,” he nodded over, pulling up the corresponding section of code on the laptop.

Bruce’s expression pinched but he did as requested, clearly not willing to put another step between himself and the answer. A quick glance up to confirm, and Tim nodded to himself.

Fuck, he needed a laser pointer.

“So it all looks good up there, right?” He pushed and Bruce frowned, but nodded, eyes scanning quickly across the screen.

“Is this your update?” He asked but Tim was already shaking his head, pushing his own laptop towards the man.

Bruce’s eyes widened at the glitching sections of code. Tim nodded, satisfied he’d gotten Tim’s point.

“Tucker Foley wrote me a program so that I could access this ghost code. In half an hour. From scratch,” he added for emphasis, and yeah, he could already hear the lecture about “compromised tech”.

He tried to shut that one off too, pointing up at the screens.

“That? That’s apparently the work of a ghost. One called Technus, who likes to possess technology, and now Tucker and I are going through every line of the Watchtower’s code looking for changes.”

Bruce’s lips thinned to a tense line and he gave a short, harsh nod. He very obviously didn’t like it, but the presence of a bigger threat did wonders for calming him down.

Tim patted his laptop.

“We’re waiting on you to upgrade the batcomputer, but we’re gonna need to check every program on that too. Everything, Bruce. These ghosts could have been rewriting everything. And we’d never know if I hadn’t asked Tuck to help me with the Watchtower.”

Honestly, Tim was just hoping none of their rogues had made any ghostly connections. The implications made his head spin, but he stubbornly kept himself on track.

They needed Tucker’s help. Never mind that the ghosts themselves were reportedly allergic to subtlety and would always go big over going home; that was a tendency, not a guarantee.

Hell, if Tim had a say, he’d get Tucker’s upgrades for the ghost code, improved firewalls, and Danny’s ectoplasm into all his own gear by tomorrow.

He wasn’t going to, Bruce’s paranoia being what it was, but he was already uploading Tucker’s program to his suit’s wrist computer. It wasn’t like there’d be any hidden malware.

Tim had watched over his shoulder as Tucker wrote it, direct on the PDA. And watching him work had been… it was just…

He so rarely got to talk to anyone that was actually on his level. Rarer still that they weren’t a direct member of the family.

And Tucker, for all he currently had a tech advantage? He’d invented that advantage himself. All on his own, he was incredible. Maybe even better with some aspects of software than Tim himself.

The things they could do together… even the internship was pretty much a formality at this point. Just get Tuck through college and see if he’d accept a job at WE.

Hell, if he wanted to found his own company Tim would invest. That kind of brilliance deserved everything it needed to grow.

He had to wrench himself back to the present moment, the “introduce new genius to Batman” step still looming large, but honestly? Tim wasn’t worried. Bruce would see the potential.

Here and now Bruce’s gaze had gone distant, and Tim could easily have kept going, but he stayed quiet. Let the man absorb new information, stop and think.

And if he still wanted to make dumbass decisions, well, Tim could argue with him literally all night. They’d all picked up Bruce’s stubbornness too.

**

It was hard to focus on the screen through the throbbing of his head, the lights too bright even at their lowest setting. He’d checked.

Luckily, it was an issue he’d been dealing with for years, and Bruce pushed it aside with the resigned acceptance of long practice.

He’d pay for it later. That night of sleep was probably going to be a day of sleep at this rate, but he’d get at least six hours. More if Alfred caught him.

For now… Tim felt very strongly about this. Had good reason to, if he was even half right about the scope of the problem, or Tucker’s uses as a solution.

After hearing from one member of the Justice League Dark, Bruce was desperately hoping Tim was right. They sorely needed an ally, one they could trust to guide them through these dangerous waters.

Of course, Fenton and Foley were close. That may skew his judgement, but it could be accounted for. Wasn’t worth more than an ally whose skillset Bruce understood, and could trust.

Tucker Foley was a tech expert, which put him above any occult master in Bruce’s book. Magic had no rules, not that could be relied on, and Bruce wouldn’t touch it if he didn’t have to.

And Tucker’s tech would work with his own.

There’d be a review period of course. He’d have to meet Tucker himself, speak to him a little, get a sense of the man. See how far his opinions would be based in fact, not feeling.

Tim’s vouch was a good first step. As little as Bruce liked that Tim had brought an outsider down to the lab. And then let him use Tim’s computer.

And honestly, it certainly wasn’t Tim’s fault that Bruce hadn’t asked. He’d been lax, not checked properly, and it was that damned concussion slowing him down.

He needed sleep. His thinking was dangerously clouded. But one thing was always true: he trusted Tim’s judgement. Probably more than he trusted his own at the moment.

They could review the situation in the morning, come up with some suitable punishment and protocol to introduce new vigilantes to the cave (which they’d never needed, because other heroes usually came through the League and were already vetted).

A thought struck and Bruce almost smiled. It would be a fitting solution on three separate sides. Maybe the punishment would be easy after all.

“Alright. I’ll need to speak to Foley first. And you will be writing out fresh protocols to address when a new hero but not a league member can be introduced to the cave,” he added, and Tim groaned loudly.

Bruce ignored him. That was just the start of his troubles.

“You will also be responsible for running John Constantine through the full reporting system, and updating the training materials so this doesn’t happen again.” It was a weight off his shoulders, really.

And a fitting punishment, because Tim would definitely think twice before pulling this stunt again. The man himself threw both his hands into the air.

“What?! Bruce! You said you fixed it!” He whined, and Bruce resisted the urge to smile.

“And I fixed Amity Park. But I highly doubt this was his only error, so the two of you will have to review every case he’s reported on before you go back on patrol.”

It was probably several hundred since they’d had the new system alone. Tim groaned like Bruce was sucking the soul from his body.

Bruce levelled him with a stern look.

“I take the secrecy of the cave seriously, Red Robin. This will not happen again.”

“Because I’m gonna die of old age sitting at a desk with Constantine,” Tim grumbled, folding his arms and scowling.

It wasn’t even something he could write a program to fudge for him; every case would need Constantine’s personal input to be sure it was filed correctly.

Bruce was quite pleased with this solution. But he made sure to hide the smile from Tim, who wouldn’t appreciate it right now.

“Tucker Foley may end up working out for us all, but that’s no guarantee a future mistake won’t be fatal. And Tim…” even if it was a formality at this point, he had to ask. “Do you trust him?”

The answer was obvious, this was Tim’s personal laptop, this was the Bat Cave, and as expected Tim nodded immediately, the sulk from his punishment vanishing.

“He’s a good guy. He’s even made a clean set of Amity Park data you can look through until Danny fixes the batcomputer.”

Ah. And there was the problem. With a solution wrapped around it though, so Bruce focused on the cleaned set of data.

If Tucker was anything like Tim, it’d be extensive enough to keep him busy until the Justice League came to a decision.

Until he could speak to Danny. Speak to Jason.

He was so tired.

Bruce nodded, leaning back in his seat.

“Alright. Tucker Foley is exempted, but I need you and the others to stay away from the rest, and particularly Danny Fenton until the League has made a decision.”

It was just a little heart breaking watching Tim’s face fall from hope and happiness straight back into worry.

“But Bruce… he’s helping Jason with the pit, he might need to see him,” he argued, arms folding again.

Bruce shook his head. That was exactly what he was afraid of.

“I know… and I know how Jason feels about following orders. I’ll tell him myself, tonight.” Luckily he was still in the batsuit, if not the cowl.

Raising his wrist to his face, Bruce activated his secondary comm on the group channel. He’d turned both off when his children headed out, fully aware Oracle would override it if they needed him.

He didn’t need to be distracted by the noises of a normal night.

“Everyone, return to the cave before heading in please. There have been developments I need to update you on.” Nothing to worry them, but hopefully interesting enough that Jason would still drop in.

No talk of protocols or anything. No, that was Tim’s future.

Tim, who was looking at him oddly.

“Who told you Jason went out tonight?” He asked, and Bruce frowned. Looked up at the batcomputer, and realized that the tracker screen wasn’t open.

That could be a problem.

“Didn’t he?” He asked, really not looking forward to asking Dick to ask Jason to drop by tonight. If Jason was actually home, actually sleeping…

But Tim shook his head, that odd expression still on his face.

“He never said he would, but he called in after taking Danny home. He’s out with Black Bat,” Tim added, and Bruce frowned.

Why even bring it up if Jason was out? What did it matter?

Tim, clearly seeing and understanding his confusion, groaned and tugged at his hair.

“Bruce. Please, just… listen to me. Danny isn’t the threat here. He’s been nothing but helpful. He’s the one who picked up the ball when the League dropped it, who dealt with all the ghosts we can’t. He saved that town-”

“We don’t know that, Tim,” Bruce cut him off, shaking his head sharply. “We can’t take that risk.”

He could see Tim getting frustrated, temper flaring, and in an odd way, it made him feel better. Calm. In control.

“Bruce, you stubborn… so what? We just tell Jason to keep away from the only person who makes him feel better?” Tim asked sarcastically, and Bruce could see exactly how he’d missed the point.

This was what he’d have to watch for with Tucker Foley. But the technical advantages would be worth it.

“We don’t know that he’s making the pits better,” Bruce said darkly, and fuck it felt good to even voice the thought aloud.

Made it feel real, less like paranoia.

Tim gaped at him, but didn’t argue.

Bruce raised a hand, counting the points off on his fingers.

One.

“None of us heard anything about him a week ago. Not even a few days. Fenton has been here over a year and only just ran into Jason?” It wasn’t possible.

It didn’t make sense. Gotham was a large city, sure, but for two people apparently so closely linked? No.

A second finger rose.

“Danny himself claims that he is helping with the pits.”

“Jason agrees,” Tim cut in, clearly looking to break his train of thought. Bruce silenced him with a stern glare.

“Danny claims he is helping with the pits. Jason claims to have noticed the same thing, but we already know the pits affect his mind. He may not understand what’s being done to him.”

That? That made perfect sense. The pits had driven Jason into those uncontrollable rages, made him do things he’d never have wanted to.

Who was to say they couldn’t have a more subtle influence? More dangerous? More like Ra’s himself.

Even Tim couldn’t argue with that, and Bruce nodded his satisfaction at the boy’s silence, raising a third finger. This… he wasn’t looking forward to this one.

But its weight had been sitting in his chest since the possibility came up, and he didn’t want to hide anything from his boys. They deserved to know the risks.

No matter how much he’d rather protect them from it.

“The little f… Constantine believes there is a chance that even being close to Danny may have dangerous side effects for Jason, purely accidentally.”

Tim’s eyebrow rose at the aborted description, and Bruce was glad he’d clamped down on it. Couldn’t quite meet the boy’s eye as he continued to explain.

“Danny’s connection to… his death,” the words were hard to even speak, another child lost, “is what gives him his power. It’s strong, and may have radiating effects Danny doesn’t even know about.”

Because that was kind of the worst part. There was a chance that Danny truly meant everything he’d said in earnest. That he was Jason’s friend, wanted to protect him.

Wanted to help Jason come back to himself and be free of the pit rage. That they did truly care for each other, and wanted to make each other better.

And none of those good intentions would matter if Danny’s mere presence risked Jason’s soul.

He could see Tim realizing it too, eyes widening and the aggression slumping from his shoulders. But he’d decided to be honest.

Clear, open communication. They could try.

“The way Jason came back… we still don’t know how it happened, or why. But anything half living and half dead can have side effects on the world around them, especially for those who have already died.”

Danny might be here to take Jason away. Back to the dead.

He’d meant to say the words, to lay it bare, but in the end he choked on them. Couldn’t even face the thought.

Tomorrow. After he slept. If they still needed convincing, he’d try again tomorrow. Which did neatly bring them to point number four.

Steeling himself, Bruce shifted his gaze back to Tim, raising his pinky finger.

“And if you are right, if Danny really is helping… it’ll only be for a few days. I meet with the League tomorrow. Zatanna and Shazam will both be there to give their opinions.”

Suddenly Bruce just felt tired. Tired of arguing, trying to make people see things his way. All he wanted was a couple of days. Just to be sure. Just to be safe.

Tim raised an eyebrow again, shifting slowly to lean against the other chair.

“Then why will it be a few days? Why not tomorrow?” He asked cautiously and Bruce chuckled.

Of course Tim knew him well enough to know there would be something else.

“I’d like to talk to him myself first. Perhaps have them meet him directly. Just to be sure what his intentions are in the city.”

“And with Jason,” Tim put in flatly. Bruce just nodded. The boy was right.

“With the city and with Jason,” he agreed, looking back up at the large screens of the batcomputer.

Pulled up the location tracker for his bats and birds, watching their little trails of light run across the city. He wouldn’t let any of those lights wink out.

Tim sighed and shook his head, coming to lean against the back of Bruce’s chair instead. Not quite tall enough to rest his chin on the top of Bruce’s head, and not likely to grow much more at nineteen.

“I still think it’s a bad idea,” he said bluntly, eyes tracking the Red Hood dot in particular. “You’ll only push Jason further away by trying to control who he sees.”

Bruce shook his head, leaning back just a little more into the presence of his son.

“I don’t care if Jason hates me for the rest of his life, so long as it’s a long and healthy one,” he said softly, and Tim snorted.

Pushed away from the chair, and for a moment the distance ached.

“Yeah, well. When it blows up in your face, I told you so. Did you wanna see Tucker tonight or tomorrow?” He asked, and Bruce’s head snapped suddenly around, scanning the cave.

“He’s still here?”

**

Shaking his head, Tim made his way across the cave to the infirmary, pulling out his phone where Bruce couldn’t see it. He shot off a quick text, not looking down.

‘J. Don’t come back to cave. B has mega bitch face just let him cool down’

**

Across the city, the message flashed in the corner of Red Hood’s helmet visor. Groaning to himself, Hood kicked a goon’s gun into Gotham bay and waved to Black Bat.

“You good? I gotta send a text.” He called, deeply offending the eight goons still standing, armed with knives and fucking pipes, and tussling with Black Bat.

Which only got worse when she shot him a quick thumbs up, sat on a particularly tall goon’s shoulders before throwing herself back so far the guy toppled, twisting them in the air so she still somehow wound up on top.

Hood nodded, pulling out his phone one handed.

“Hey! You can’t just text! We’re not done!” A goon protested, rushing in at Red Hood.

Who pulled his gun and shot him in both kneecaps, sending him sprawling to the slick planks of the dock.

This was why he always took out their shooters first. Batman could preach hand to hand all he liked, it was way safer when the bad guys had holes in their hands and no guns.

“Anyone else?” Hood asked rhetorically, pointing the last gun on the dock at the remaining goons in turn. In unison, all six focused their attention solely on Black Bat.

Not because they thought they’d win, but well. She didn’t have a fucking gun.

“Yeah, thought so,” Hood grumbled, sending a quick message back to Tim.

Paused to take a picture when Black Bat actually got three heads at once into a leg lock, because that had to be a record.

‘Is it to do with your big fuck up?’ Cuz honestly, what else could B be pissed about?

The answer came back though, fast and weird.

‘As hard as I also find it to believe this, no. Magician’s got him all twisted around about Phantom. Wants to forbid us all from seeing him.’

The phone creaked in Jason’s grip as he read the last words, a low rumbling growl spilling from low in his chest.

The remaining standing goons whipped around and exchanged startled looks.

That. That definitely wasn’t fucking good. No way.

Black Bat took another to floor as they paused, and the last three fled. Didn’t quite make it to the door.

Jason didn’t notice until her hand landed gently on his shoulder, concern radiating off her. His head whipped round, and he was suddenly glad the full helmet covered his face.

Couldn’t see the way he fucking snarled at her.

Black Bat didn’t move, her head cocked to one side as she regarded him.

“Eyes. Glowing,” she told him carefully, reaching up to touch the side of his helmet.

Jason jerked back in shock, but he could already feel the green rushing away. Receding until his vision purely his own again.

He hadn’t even noticed the green haze.

Black Bat inspected him again, then nodded, going on tiptoes to pat him on top of the head.

“What’s wrong?”

Red Hood sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment to recenter. He’d never felt the rage come on that fast, from nothing to all consuming before he even felt it.

Even thinking of the messages made angry green tides again.

We will not be kept from the King!

And it was talking to him again. Lovely. Why couldn’t that part have been his imagination?

Shaking his head, he focused on Black Bat’s question instead.

“Just B bein’ an asshole again. I’m gonna pass on the cave tonight, tell him I went to bed.” It was about as much as he thought he could talk about it without screaming.

Almost forgot that Black Bat could read him too, her aura still soothing and open to him as she nodded. Rested a hand gently on his shoulder.

“Go now. Rest,” she told him firmly, turning back to the downed and groaning goons.

Red Hood hesitated, looking around the dock. It was getting early, nearly time to turn in anyway, and they were done here. Just a routine drug shipment.

The last lot too dense to be cowed by the mood on the streets, or counting on the hour to mean the bats went to bed. Cuz that went so well for them.

He nodded and moved to help her, flipping the biggest goon over and zip tying his wrists to his elbows, and then his ankles.

“After I help you wrap your presents,” he agreed, heard Black Bat let out a soft huff of laughter.

One of the still conscious goons shot him a glare.

“Y’could at least pretend to take us seriously,” she grumbled, then yelped as one of her fellow goons kicked her in the shins.

Clear message: do not push the crazy bat.

Red Hood snorted.

“I’ll take you seriously when you’ve fuckin’ earned it,” he told her, going for the next biggest body.

Black Bat could take every one of them out of the fight, but bagging and tagging a dead weight was much less fun for her. He could handle that part before turning in.

He had a big day tomorrow.

**

Private Chat: DannyP & TooFine

4:30am

‘TooFine: dude Tim just shoved me in a closet I don’t think Batman knows I’m here?????’

‘TooFine: dude’

‘TooFine: dude wake tf up I might need emergency evac 🚨🚨’

4:35am

‘TooFine: that fucking Constantine guy’s put a bug in Batman’s ass’

‘TooFine: told u we shoulda hunted him down 😤’

‘TooFine: and after all I did to help!! Ungrateful bat!!’

4:46am

‘TooFine: okay Batman fucking hates u specifically ur screwed 😳’

‘TooFine: I’m good tho 😇’

‘TooFine: I think he likes me now 😏’

‘TooFine: he wants all my sweet tech upgrades’

‘TooFine: they’re gonna let me play on the batcomputer!!! 😳😳😳’

5am

‘TooFine: u are missing vital updates bitch’

‘TooFine: he’s gonna fucking ground Jason from hanging out with u’

‘TooFine: AH SHIT HE KNOWS IM HERE ABORT ABORT ABORT’

8am

‘TooFine: u may have been right going to bed early man this shit sucks’

‘TooFine: didn’t even get to see what happened’

‘TooFine: they sent me to bed like a naughty child! 😤’

‘TooFine: I’m changing all his ring tones to Funky Town’

10:59am

‘DannyP: okay miette’

11:02am

‘HalfBitch: OKAY IM SORRY TUCKER AT LEAST TAKE THE MAGIC MIKE THEME OFF’

——————————

Next Chapter:

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

[novalupin]

Burning For You

Pairing: Diluc Ragnvindr x (Fem)Reader

summary: a game of chess, grape juice, and a heated encounter.

cw: mild sexual tension with an innuendo here or there, but generally sfw. if you don't suck at chess: i'm sorry.

notes: reposted from ao3, i'm novalupin there too if you prefer reading in that format.

The winery was silent except for the barely-audible chirps of grasshoppers surrounding it. Oil lamps cast an orange hue to your chambers as you pressed a rag against your hair to dry it from your bath. 

You were an adventurer - and something that came hand-in-hand with it is that no place would ever truly feel like home. No matter whether it was your house or someone else’s, you’d always just feel like a visitor. Maybe that’s what made you reluctant to buy a house in Mondstadt.

The thrill of adventure came from exploring and roughing it, and making do with a tent most nights never bothered you. In fact, you felt there was nothing that compared to waking up with the brilliant hues of the sunrise peaking straight into your tent - being so connected to the nature of Teyvat that you couldn’t discern where you ended and the scenery began. Almost nothing that could compare.

Now, you could barely remember a time before waking up to the winery. A couple of months prior, you’d decided to temporarily put down roots in Mondstadt, but your hesitation to buy a permanent house created a tough dilemma in your mind, and you had said as much to your closest confidants at Angel’s Share.

“Really?” Kaeya’s face lit up with his signature grin. “That’s great, [Y/N]!”

“Well, I like staying in Mondstadt, and I can’t be on the move for the rest of my life.” You explained, your finger tracing the rim of your glass in thought. “I’m uncertain about buying a place here, though. Would it be worth it if I leave every so often? I need opinions.”

“I say you should.” Rosaria spoke, tapping her fingerguards on the oaken bar. You looked at her to elaborate, and she did in a blunt manner. “It’s nice when you’re in the city. If you have a house here, we’ll see you more often.” 

“I disagree, if you’re unsure.” Diluc spoke from behind the bar, pausing unnaturally, as if there were words he was holding back. Those seemed to be all the thoughts he was willing to share, because he pursed his lips before resuming wiping the glass in his hand.

“Surprisingly, I think Diluc’s right.” You eyes snapped to the Cavalry Captain, eliciting an explanation. “It’s a large investment, [Y/N]. I feel like you should be certain.”

You nodded slowly, taking in his words. 

“However, that’s not to say you shouldn’t stay in the city, of course.” He continued, a plotting smile tugging at his lips as he sipped his wine. There was a glint in the blue tones of his eye as he spoke. “If you feel like crashing somewhere, I could-”

“You’re welcome to reside in the winery.” Diluc interrupted. Your gaze shifted to the tavern owner who’d cut him off. He turned from the array of bottles to face you, an unreadable expression on his face. Then again, most of his expressions were unreadable. “We have plenty of spare rooms, and you may come and go as you please. It would be my pleasure to host you.”

“Diluc, I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“Nonsense. It is the least I can do for a… friend.” He offered you the smallest of reassuring smiles, as he carelessly shoved a bottle towards the now-glowering Kaeya. The tavern was relatively quiet; all of the usual drunkards had filtered out for closing time, but the angry tension between the brothers was incredibly loud. “I can close up now, and assist you in bringing your belongings there.”

If the winery owner was being completely honest with himself, he had become infatuated with you in the time you’d spent in Mondstadt, and the nights you’d lit up the tavern with your various musings. His offer of residence, while generous, was also not completely altruistic. There was a slightly selfish motive plaguing him, albeit small. The idea of you living in the winery was painfully domestic, and on the walk home, with both of your arms full with your things as you gratefully rambled to him, he indulged himself by letting his mind wander to a fantasy in which the winery was just as much your home as it was his. 

Chatting, he’d come to find, was a horrible waste of time. Unless, of course, it was you. 

It seemed like such a demeaning description of your conversations. Chatting. It did nothing to capture the ponderings that he heard from your brilliant mind. You could turn the most mundane subject into intricate reveries with your witty remarks, and it probably explained why Kaeya took such a liking to you. He found himself wishing he had the silver-tongue to engage you as much as the Captain did. 

Maybe that’s why he knocked on the door to your room in the evening. Three controlled raps was all you needed to know it was him.

“May I come in?” He called out to you, clearing his throat. He only wished he could clear his awkwardness along with it. He heard a muffled “sure” come from inside and clicked the brass handle to gently open the door as he entered.

He glanced around the room before landing on you, and his mouth went dry. 

You were clad in a silk nightgown - the translucent white fabric flowing over your body left nothing to the imagination. Intricate lace lay taut against your bosom, and his gaze lingered for a few seconds before he snapped his head to the side and averted his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he hastily muttered, the amber light hiding the spreading crimson on his cheeks. He reached for the door handle behind him, starting to leave.  “I could’ve sworn I heard you tell me to come in.”

You tilted your head, a bit confused. “I did.”

“You’re not dressed.” He turned, still trying to find anywhere to look except for the ivory clothing that did nothing to cover the contours of your body underneath. It was almost comedic, seeing one of Teyvat’s greats reduced to a flustered schoolboy as his face burned with embarrassment. He felt exploitative, predatory even, if he relished in the sight of you, no matter how much a part of him wanted to. 

“I mean, it’s just sleepclothes. Archons forbid I show my ankles in front of Master Diluc Ragnvindr!” You joked, a giggle escaping you, and he let out an amused huff. You were right, of course. Maybe it wasn’t the clothing itself that made the encounter seem so intimate. Maybe it was just you. You always seemed to have that effect on him. He drew in a cautious breath before you spoke. “So, what did you need?”

“I have some spare time, and it has been a while since I entertained a chess game.” He said tentatively, seeming a bit too interested in picking at his nails. “Care to play a round?”

You nodded eagerly, and followed him downstairs. The winery had an almost gothic feel to it at night, the candlelight reflecting off of the marble floors casting an ethereal glow on the walls. He pulled out an armchair for you, before both of you took a seat next to the wooden chessboard.

“I feel like this is the right time to tell you that I’m horrible at chess.” You quipped as you moved a pawn forward. “You might lose brain cells.”

He graced you with a coarse chuckle, moving a knight. 

“I doubt you’re as bad as you say. Besides, your company isn’t exactly offensive, either.” You found yourself holding his gaze for a bit too long. Could anyone blame you? He looked a little too alluring in the soft light, the curl of his bangs framing his aristocratic bone structure perfectly. Mondstadt’s most eligible bachelor was sitting opposite you, it would’ve been a bit of an understatement to call him pretty. He gestured for you to move and you contemplated your options, before shifting a piece. 

“That is such high praise. I should tell the Mondstadt Gazette that Diluc Ragnvindr finds my company ‘not exactly offensive.’” A grin spread across your face as he leaned back in his chair and laughed with mirth.

“You know what I meant. I like having you here.” He gave you a small smile as he took one of your bishops, leaving you aghast at his ruthless strategy.

“You certainly don’t play like it,” you grumbled, castling your king. A few moves later, you scanned the board. He had you beat, his setup for a checkmate becoming more and more evident. You reviewed your options. You had to play dirty.

“Diluc…” He looked up at you through long crimson lashes, focus shifted from the board. “It’s no wonder you’re good at chess."

He quirked a brow, a bit apprehensive of your words.

“Since, you know,” you started, leaning forward in your seat to whisper suggestively. “Rumour has it that Mondstadt’s most eligible bachelor is particularly adept with his fingers.”

You watched as he stared before realisation started to set in. His eyes widened, flashing that dark ruby shade that you had grown to be fond of over the time you’d known him. As he collected himself, you subtly set up a move. A flush started to spread up his neck up to his cheeks as he furrowed his brows together.

“You’ve been talking to the Cavalry Captain too much. He always wants to colour people’s opinions of me.” He met your eyes with a half-lidded stare that arose an unfamiliar feeling inside of you. “You can’t believe half the things out of his mouth.”

“So, you’re denying it?” 

“You’re incorrigible,” he said, amused. “However…”

He made a show of knocking your crucial piece over with his move, before taking it off of the board.

“It will take quite a bit more than that to distract me.” He said, tilting his head as curls fell over his face.

You gritted your teeth in frustration, and the game was over a few moves later, with his triumphant exclamation of ‘checkmate’ as he placed his final piece.

“Still, it’s been a while since someone has tested me like this.” He said, standing up.

“Are you just saying that to make me feel better?” You mirrored his movements before crossing your arms.

“No, not at all.” He paused for a second, his eyes starting to wander before he snapped out of it, leading you both up the stairs. What was wrong with him? He’d never had much of a problem with his attraction to someone, not like this. He could barely take his eyes off of you.

It all just seemed tragically close. As he walked you to your room, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness that you didn’t share one. He was a social recluse - he was fully aware of that. He far preferred being alone to the company of other people, but this was different. You were different.

You lingered outside of the door, the silence hanging heavy over the two of you. You were the first one to break it.

“Goodnight, Diluc.” You said brightly, starting to turn the handle before you felt a gentle grip on your wrist. You turned to him, a look of confusion stark on your face. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not… I’m not skilled with my words. You know this.” He said, drawing closer to you hesitantly. The hand on your wrist trailed up to your arm. “There’s something I’d like to do, if you’d let me.”

You nodded, still a bit dumbfounded.

He leaned closer, engulfing you with his comforting scent of grape juice and smoke, and pressed his lips against yours. You splayed your hand flat against the fabric of his button-down, the other tangling itself in his hair. 

You found yourself smiling against him, a sense of peace washing over you as your lips moulded together.

But as the kiss lingered, you both felt something shift. The tension in the air dissipated, replaced by a warmth and comfort that felt like home.

He was gentle with his touches, his rough fingers trailing over your sides as if you’d break with too much pressure. Cautious, yet adoring with the paths of his fingers. Diluc was often like that, you’d come to find. His bangs tickled you as he pressed deeper, backing you up against the wall and wrapping his arms around your waist.

When he did pull away, he was a sight. His face was flushed with his pupils blown wide, and stray locks of hair lay messily out of his ponytail. 

“Is this your prize for winning?” You asked, catching your breath as you rested your forehead on his chest.

“We ought to play more often, then.”

please consider leaving a note/reblog on your way out!! c:

[smittywing]

FicBit 11: Jason Todd/Tim Drake

So, I will post this to AO3 later today once I take another run through the formatting and such but I wanted you guys to have this first. Thank you for all the love and support while I was hiccuping this out in pieces! And as always, thanks to @reccea for enabling and betaing and everything.

Previous parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

~

Jason knew Tim and Bernard had broken up four days and six hours before Tim told him. 

Jason was starting to learn that Tim did things on his own time, no matter what kind of crazy it made Jason. 

The important thing was that Tim told him. 

“Bernard and I aren't together anymore,” Tim said carefully. “And I thought.  Maybe.  I could take you out to dinner. On a date.”

“I only put out for lobster,” Jason warned. 

“So I don't know if you've heard,” Tim said. “But I have this really good job at Wayne Enterprises….”

-

“I thought Cannon Fodder made you happy,” Jason said over lobster rolls from a shack in the marina. Jason wasn’t any kind of lobster connoisseur but he was pretty sure this was the best he'd ever had.

Tim was in the process of stuffing the end of his roll in his mouth and had to chew and swallow before he could answer. He scowled when Jason laughed at him. 

“I was happy,” he admitted. “Bernard will always be important to me. He helped me learn a lot about who I am and what I want. I might have just stuck to dating girls because… I hadn't been ready to come out. 

“But the feelings I have for you aren't…new,” Tim said slowly. Jason’s heart leapt in his chest. He kept his mouth shut. “I knew who you were but I didn't know you. And then you were - gone - and then, well, I didn't think there was much of a chance.” He shrugged and looked very interested in reassembling his sandwich. “I thought maybe that was my only chance to kiss you so I took it.”

“I might be open to giving you a second chance,” Jason said. “Maybe a third. If you make it good.”

“Shut up, you asshole,” Tim said, looking up, eyes bright and smile crooked. “You know it's going to be good.”

And Jason had no comeback because Tim’s face was lit up like sunshine and this time he had made it happen, had made Tim feel like that. 

“Anyway,” Tim said, because Jason was too busy grinning to answer. “I didn't want to be that guy but I couldn't handle the idea that we might never figure out what this is between us. So I talked to Bernard and we agreed I should uh, take some time and figure things out.”

“He let you go?” Jason asked, because that was fucking stupid of Cannon Fodder. 

“More like…he needed me to make a choice,” Tim said. “And I couldn’t do that while wondering ‘what if’ all the time.”

Jason rubbed the back of his neck because it sounded like Tim was saying he had picked Jason and he wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about that. Though he was leaning toward gloating.

“I just. I want you to be happy,” Jason said, biting the inside of his lip. “Even if that means seeing Cannon Fodder at Sunday brunch.”

“Yeah, well.” Tim poked at his sandwich and looked up at Jason, his cheeks flushed. “Turns out I just want you to be happy, too.”

~

After a stroll around the tiny marina to “walk off” their dinner, Tim invited Jason aboard his boat and led him below decks.

“Can I take that second chance now?” Tim asked and Jason’s breath caught in his throat. It was just a kiss, they'd done it before, and Jason had kissed half a dozen guys when he was stalking the clubs, but somehow he was still nervous. 

“I mean, you did pony up for the lobster,” he cracked.

Tim reached up and cupped Jason’s face between his hands and drew it down to him. “Hey,” he whispered and then he brought their mouths together. 

It was as good as before, if not better for the longing. Tim’s mouth was sharp and clever and Jason kissed him over and over, unable to pull back. They kissed until Jason’s mouth was dry and he leaned in, chasing Tim’s mouth until Tim’s thumb, pressed against his lower lip, held him back.

“How far did your research take you?” Tim asked and Jason was confused for a moment until he remembered how their conversation in the club had started. 

“Nothing that involved taking off clothes,” he admitted. “I kissed a few guys but none of them were you.”

Tim’s eyes went soft and he stepped back just far enough to pull his t-shirt over his head and toss it behind him. He looked amazing, his arms and chest rounded with muscle, but lithe, graceful. He was pale but had a healthy flush down to his abs. 

“Should I?” Jason asked. 

Tim nodded. “Yeah, if you're comfortable. I think you’ll like this.”

Jason didn't wait to ask what this was, he just dragged his shirt over his head and let Tim look at all the scars that littered his body. They itched under Tim’s intense study and he rubbed self-consciously at his breastbone.

“C’mere,” Tim directed, putting his hands on Jason’s bare waist and pressing back up to his mouth. The heated skin of his chest and stomach slid against Jason’s and Jason gasped with the sensation of naked skin on skin. Tim settled in closer, his palms pushing up Jason's exposed back to his shoulder blades, his arms wrapping around Jason’s ribs and squeezing gently.

“Fuck,” Jason breathed, sensitized and prickling with it, unready for the intensity rising in him. One hand was still pressed against his own chest, the knuckles brushing Tim’s clavicle. He fisted his other hand at his side, unsure what to do with it. 

Tim smiled against his mouth and pulled back, bumping his chin against Jason’s. “It feels good, right?” he whispered. “It's not the same with a girl.”

It wasn't the same with anyone and it wasn't just good. It was intimate in a way that was a revelation to Jason and he brought his mouth down to Tim’s again, hungry and needy in a way Jason hadn’t been with the strangers in the clubs. 

Jason’s skin buzzed everywhere Tim’s fingers had pressed into it. His knuckles prickled where they pushed into Tim’s chest. Jason twisted his wrist so the pads of his fingers grazed Tim’s collarbone and the flesh of his palm curved over warm skin and hard muscle. He paused, mid-kiss, and Tim murmured against his mouth.

“Yeah, like that. Touch me some more?” And Jason had to oblige. 

He spread his fingers, spanning the greater part of Tim’s shoulder and pectoral, his nipple a hard nub against Jason’s palm.  He dragged his hand down until he could circle his thumb over and around it. “Is this weird?” he asked because he'd only ever done it with a girl. 

“Does it feel weird?” Tim asked, tilting his head up. Jason considered. “Because it feels great to me.”

Jason kissed his naughty grin and pinched him lightly. Tim shivered and pressed himself against Jason’s leg and all Jason could think was, I did that.

~

Much later (surely much later than Jason’s internal clock told him) Tim collapsed on the bed next to Jason, his hair falling over his eyes. Jason turned his head, pressing his cheek to the blanket and gazing (sappily, but he wasn't going to be the one to say it) at Tim. Tim’s eyes were closed and he huffed a breath upward, blowing his hair a half inch off his face before it fell back over his eyes. 

“Does this mean we're going steady?” he asked, lifting his hand to brush Tim’s hair sideways across his forehead. 

Tim smiled with that dirty, dirty mouth of his. “If I say yes, do I get to wear your jacket?”

“You can wear whatever of mine you want,” Jason pledged, dropping his hand to thumb Tim’s lower lip. Tim bit him then sucked Jason’s thumb into his mouth. Jason was in the midst of calculating his recovery time when Tim released his thumb with an audible pop. 

“So, um,” Tim said. “Now that you've, you know.  What do you think?”

“You mean do I still think I’m straight?”

Tim smiled gently. “I think we left that idea a while back.”

Jason turned his gaze back to the ceiling. “Yeah,” he said. “Well.” He considered. “Can I just like who I like? Whatever they are?”

“Yeah,” Tim said. “As long as you still like me best.”

“Yeah,” Jason said. “That won't be a problem.”

~ 

One year later…

“Is that blood on your shirt?” Tim asked as Jason settled self-consciously into the place of honor at his Wayne Manor birthday party. This year, he had taken Alfred to high tea at a hotel in New York City for their shared birthday, and Tim had taken him out to dinner - a real, stupidly fancy dinner, with real lobster and only the briefest of supervillain interruptions. 

(But then Bruce said, “Will you come by on Saturday? I promise we’ll keep it small,” and Jason's heart must have grown three sizes that year, because he said,

“Yeah, okay, but don't let the demon brat get me an ant farm.”)

“It's fashion” Jason told Tim archly. “Not that you would know.”

“Not that I would know,” Tim repeated, “from someone whose entire wardrobe consists of cargo pants and black t-shirts.”

Bruce had promised to keep it small and for definitions involving the family, he had more or less kept his word. Dick and Barbara were there, and Tim and Damian, who had been given strict instructions about gifting living beings, but the only other person there was Stephanie. Her gift turned out to be a repeat of last year’s shovel talk.

Tim set a box on Jason’s lap. It weighed a shit ton and wasn't wrapped any better than Jason’s gift to Tim had been. 

“I love it,” Jason said, frowning at the mass of brown fabric inside. “What is it?”

“It's a hammock,” Tim said brightly. “For the boat!”

Jason laughed. “You got me something for your boat?” he laughed. 

“Well, Tim said,  flushing a little across his cheekbones. “I was hoping it might be our boat.”

And Jason had nothing left to say.

[i-am-bella-donna]

The Infiltrators

Acegust 2024 Week 1: Found Family/Unconventional Format

AO3

Story Summary:

“Good evening! I’m Katie Killjoy.” “And I’m—” “Shut the fuck up, Tom. Breaking news: strange activity has been spotted at the Heaven Embassy!” A series of murders across Pentagram City had Sinners in hysterics, but residents of the Hazbin Hotel knew something about the situation was off. After all, nothing could ever be truly simple in Hell—especially not if Heaven had anything to say about it.

Pairings: Platonic Everything

Word Count: 2,266

CONTENT WARNINGS: CHARACTER DEATH, MURDER

A/N: I wrote this for Acegust 2024 on r/AO3. Frankly, I am very proud of how this story turned out, as I was experimenting with the format and had no idea what to expect.

~~~

August 8th, 17:02 Server: Pentagram City Energy

Pentagram City is offline.

~~~

August 8th, 17:43 Group Chat: Hazbin Hotel Residents!!!

Angel Dust Damn. Why was the power out for so long this time? Vox usually has the city back up and running in ten minutes.

Charlie Where is everyone?!

Angel Dust Husk and I are in the kitchen. Why?

Vaggie In the lobby. What’s going on?

Husk Kitchen.

Niffty Alastor and I are cleaning the basement!

Angel Dust We have a basement?

Charlie All of you need to stay in the Hotel until further notice. I promise I’ll explain when I get home. Don’t go outside. No matter what.

Angel Dust Can we go in the basement?

~~~

August 8th, 18:30 Transcript: 666 Evening News

“Good evening! I’m Katie Killjoy.”

“And I’m—”

“Shut the fuck up, Tom. Breaking news: strange activity has been spotted at the Heaven Embassy!”

“During today’s blackout, the spire of the tower lit up and sent several beacons of golden light into the sky. While many believe this incident was a prank or hoax, eyewitnesses claim that the light was angelic in nature.”

“Well, Tom—either several people are lying, or Heaven is up to some shady shit, as usual! No activity has been spotted since, but we urge all of you to keep your eyes open. Coming up—Mr. Vox shares the source of the longest blackout this year, right after this commercial break!”

~~~

August 8th, 21:23 Private Chat: Lucifer and Vaggie

Lucifer I just got off the phone with Charlie. Are you all okay?

Vaggie We brought out our angelic weapons and put the Hotel into lockdown. Do you know what’s going on?

Lucifer I know as much as you do. Heaven is basically useless right now. When I spoke to Sera, she politely told me it was not her problem and not-so-politely told me to go fuck myself. Which was practically an answer itself. Whatever is happening, she’s definitely involved.

Vaggie Have you heard from Emily?

Lucifer Silence.

Vaggie Security cameras around the city should be hooked to backup generators. Can you convince Vox to give you the footage? Charlie was the only one of us who was close enough to see the flare. Maybe the tapes caught something she missed.

Lucifer Vox. Is that the overlord Alastor hates?

Vaggie Yeah.

Lucifer In that case, absolutely! I’ll call him tomorrow morning.

Vaggie Sir? Do you think the flare could have been a false alarm?

Lucifer I hope so, Kiddo. But maybe you all should stay at the palace for a few nights. Just in case.

~~~

August 9th, 00:19 Group Chat: Unofficial Vee Communication Channel

Vox Something is wrong.

Velvette I’m glad you finally noticed. Don’t worry, we can burn that disgusting suit and replace it with something better. Something that inspires obedience and respect.

Valentino And something more sexy.

Velvette Anything would be more sexy than those rags.

Vox What?

Velvette What?

Valentino What?

Vox I was talking about today’s blackout. But what’s wrong with my suit?

Velvette Another time, darling. What’s happening right now?

Valentino I thought everything was fixed. On the news, you blamed the blackout on some drunk imps and said you took care of them.

Velvette You watch the news?

Vox Obviously, I lied! As far as I know, the city went dark for no reason.

Valentino Then how did you fix it?

Vox That’s the thing. I didn’t.

~~~

August 9th, 03:34 Private Chat: Husk and Vaggie

Husk You wanna talk about it?

Vaggie Is it that obvious?

Husk Yep. You’re a horrible liar.

Vaggie Why are you texting me? We’re in the same room.

Husk The others are all asleep, and I don’t think either of us wants to wake someone up. Or worse—get Alastor’s attention. Nice deflection, by the way.

Vaggie Fair enough.

Husk What’s up?

Vaggie I can’t figure out what Heaven is planning. The only reason we held our ground on Extermination Day is because we were prepared. If we can’t figure out what will happen, we can’t do anything to stop it.

Husk I understand. But Heaven hasn’t initiated anything yet. We still have time. And now, we have Lucifer on our side from the get-go. If any more angels come to Hell, we’ll be there to make sure it lives up to its name.

Vaggie But that’s just it. What if angels aren’t coming to Hell?

Husk What do you mean?

Vaggie What if they’re already here?

~~~

August 9th, 03:36 Search History of User: Velvette

Footage of angels Footage of exterminators What do exterminators look like without masks How to kill an angel How to survive an angel How to hide from an angel

~~~

August 9th, 03:36 Private Chat: Husk and Vaggie

Husk Do you really think angels could be that subtle?

Vaggie I hid myself down here for years. No one noticed.

Husk Let’s go with that.

Vaggie I’m going to pretend that was sincere. But without their masks, most angels look like any other demon. I might be bad at lying, but most of the Exorcists aren’t.

Husk You think Heaven is infiltrating Hell?

Vaggie I think Heaven is capable of more bad than people realize.

Husk True. The Extermination itself is proof of that.

Vaggie But it doesn’t even stop there. Heaven values perfection, so they eliminate Cherubs who make mistakes. They wipe the memory of new souls when they arrive. No one remembers their family or friends. And some angels do shitty things behind closed doors, only for the leaders of Heaven to turn a blind eye. On the surface, it looks perfect, but Heaven is so much more fucked up than everyone realizes.

Husk Do you think Exorcists would willingly come down to Hell for this? Outside of an Extermination?

Vaggie If they had the chance to kill Sinners? I think most of them would.

~~~

August 9th, 03:38 Search History of User: Velvette

Good places to hide Can you survive a fall from Vee tower How to remove air vents How to remove ceiling tiles Where do you go when you die in Hell Vox Vox please Help me

User: Velvette is offline.

~~~

August 9th, 05:20 Group Chat: Hazbin Hotel Residents!!!

Angel Dust Bad news: I still have work today. Just letting you all know before I leave.

Lucifer I can portal you there, if you’d like!

Angel Dust Normally, I’d be polite and say no, but I’m desperate. Also, how and why are you awake right now?

Lucifer Counterpoint, why are you awake right now?

Angel Dust I have work. What’s your excuse?

Lucifer I’m the Devil. I don’t have nightmares. I am one. In what world would I possibly need sleep?

Angel Dust Terrifying, but fair enough.

Charlie Stay safe today, Angel!

Angel Dust I will, Toots.

Charlie And if you can, keep your phone with you.

Niffty Bye, Angel! Alastor said to give Vox a middle finger from him.

Angel Dust How the fuck does he even know what that means?

Lucifer Where is that stupid deer, anyway? If he’s in the kitchen, tell him to keep his disgusting claws out of my refrigerator! I don’t want his grubby hands in my pancake mix. Angel, message us when you need to come back. I’ll pick you up.

~~~

August 9th, 06:49 Transcript: Source Unknown

“Log four: this is Acting General Lute, leading the current mission into Hell. The first three targets have been eliminated. Our plan is now in action.”

~~~

August 9th, 08:08 Group Chat: Hazbin Hotel Residents!!!

Angel Dust So…change of plans. Can someone bring me back to the palace? Right now?

Niffty This is Alastor. Niffty is typing for me. I’m afraid our dear king is unable to assist you at the moment. However, if you are willing to wait a few minutes, I can come and retrieve you myself.

Angel Dust Fuck. Okay. Just hurry. Things over here are really fucked up. But on the bright side, you’ll definitely be entertained by it.

Niffty Interesting. I am on my way.

~~~

August 9th, 11:54 Article: Two Overlords Found DEAD!

This morning, overlord Missi Zilla of the Doomsday District was found dead in the backrooms of her largest club, Siren Song. An assistant reported finding angelic knives beside her body, although the wounds are inconsistent with suicide.

A few hours later, the overlord of social media, Velvette Vogue, was discovered dead in her kitchen.

“She was surrounded by blood, with an angelic spear still in her chest,” said a Vee tower worker who has requested to remain anonymous. Investigators have ruled her death as foul play, and some have suggested that it may be linked to the erratic behavior of the Heaven embassy.

In possibly related news, the west side of Cannibal Town has experienced a series of similar murders, with residents found dead in their homes. The identity of the perpetrator is unknown.

At this time, overlords Vox, Valentino, and Rosie have declined to comment.

~~~

August 9th, 15:15 Transcript: 66.6 Radio Broadcast

“Salutations, dear listeners! My, my—we have quite the story today.

“For those of you who don’t know, beloved overlord Missi Zilla was recently found dead. Now, I would normally dismiss this incident as ordinary Hellish activity, but one of Vox’s better halves has been found dead as well. I’m nearly envious—getting away from Vox sounds like Heaven in and of itself! Minus the eternal boredom that comes with a second death, of course.

“And speaking of Vox, is it any wonder that the coward has refused to comment on the death of his so-called dear friend? Why, if I didn’t know any better, I’d suggest he took care of her himself! But that would require the bare modicum of effort, and we all know he has trouble with that.

“In fact, according to His Majesty, Vox hasn’t even mustered the effort to tell you all the truth! That blackout yesterday? Vox had nothing to do with it. He doesn’t even know what happened!

“Thus, I’d like to propose a new theory. The blackout, flare, and recent murders are too close to be a mere coincidence—and after investigations, Lucifer has determined that two angels used the chaos of yesterday to infiltrate Hell. Who else would go after not only overlords, but peaceful civilians whose only crime was defending their home on Extermination Day?

“So, Vox—how does it feel? You refused to share the truth, and now your protogeé is dead at the hands of the very monsters you kept hidden.

“What do you have to say to that, old friend?”

~~~

August 9th, 16:28 Private Chat: Angel Dust and Charlie

Angel Dust I think your dad might actually kill Alastor.

Charlie What makes you say that?

Angel Dust Just a gut feeling. Also, the giant fucking shockwave that he sent through the palace. How is Alastor still laughing right now? I’d be running for my life.

Charlie Fuck. I’ll talk to Dad. But I really wish Alastor hadn’t revealed the angels to Hell. Everyone was already panicking!

Angel Dust Yeah. Do you really think angels killed the overlords and Cannibal Town residents?

Charlie Honestly? I don’t know what to think. But two overlords were killed out of nowhere. And the only other people killed were the cannibals we fought with. Also, Dad and I can’t contact anyone from Heaven. It’s too big of a coincidence.

Angel Dust But Adam is already dead, so who do you think Heaven sent down here?

Charlie Vaggie said Lute would have jumped at the opportunity to kill more Sinners. But I’m not sure who the second person could be.

~~~

August 9th, 18:05 Transcript: Source Unknown

“Log six: this is Acting General Lute, leading the current mission into Hell. With the first stage of our plan underway, my companion and I are ready to enact the keystone.”

~~~

August 9th, 19:46 Group Chat: Carmine Family

Odette Mother, what is happening?

Clara Is that who I think it is? Mom?!

Carmilla I love you both. Okay? Do whatever it takes to get yourselves to safety. Find Zestial and have him contact Lucifer. Do not let this information die with me.

~~~

August 9th, 19:50 Group Chat: Hazbin Hotel Residents!!!

Vaggie Shit. Shit shit shit. I have some really bad news, but you might need to sit down.

Charlie What’s wrong?

Vaggie The angels are launching their next attack. They went for the Carmine family. Odette just sent me a video, and…well. See for yourself. AngelicInvaders.mov

Lucifer Wait.

Husk Is that—

Angel Dust HOLY SHIT!

Niffty Huh?

Charlie WHAT THE FUCK?!

~~~

August 9th, 20:00 Transcript: Source Unknown

“Log nine: this is Acting General Lute, leading the current mission into Hell. Our infiltration has been successful so far, and the destabilization of Hell is underway. By tomorrow, we should be—you’re already back?”

“Yes, ma’am. The children have escaped, but Miss Carmine is dead.”

“Good. She ran the black market of angelic arms. Without her, we should be able to take out the stronger overlords with no issue, starting with the Radio Demon.”

“The Radio Demon? He works at that Hotel, correct?”

“Exactly. If we can eliminate him, Hell will fall apart.”

“And with Hell dessstabilized, we will be able to take control once and for all!”

“Without their previous overlords, those demons will destroy themselves in no time. It may seem extreme, but this is the only way to guarantee that no more of those disgusting Sinners ascend to Heaven.”

“Demonic ascension—sssuch a ridiculous concept!”

“That’s right. Because these monsters around us? They’re nothing like you and I, Pentious. And we’re going to make sure they get the Hell they deserve.”

~~~

A/N: I wanted to use a different storytelling format. However, it is currently the middle of the night, and I lack the brainpower to tell whether I hit what I was aiming for (which was a mild horror comedy).

[thelordofgifs]

Silm fandom! Have a PSA. Hate the piped tags on AO3? Would much rather read a fic tagged Fingon/Maedhros than one tagged Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo? Have I got the userscript for you! Look how neat and readable my AO3 silm character tags look now:

What is a userscript?

Good question! The small sibling, who is a computer geek, did not know about these when I mentioned them, so I have to conclude I have stumbled upon some secret hidden wisdom here. In short, a userscript is a (free) program written in JavaScript that modifies the web pages you visit. They're very safe, and imo an essential part of customising your web browsing experience to your liking!

How do I install userscripts?

I might make a separate post about mobile browsers because I'm tired. But on desktop, you first want to get a browser extension that allows you to manage your userscripts. I like Tampermonkey, which works with most major browsers.

Okay, how do I get rid of the piped tags?

Once you've installed the userscript manager of your choice, you want to go to the userscript Ao3 De-Piped Tags on Greasy Fork and click the big green "install" button. For most userscripts, that's it! For this one, we need to take a couple of tiny extra steps:

Go to your Tampermonkey dashboard (you can find this by clicking on "browser extensions" and then "Tampermonkey". Unfortunately I don't know how other userscript managers work, so if you didn't choose Tampermonkey you'll have to play around a little.)

Click the "Ao3 De-Piped Tags" script on your Tampermonkey dashboard.

This should bring you to the "Editor" page, and a bunch of scary-looking code in JavaScript. Don't panic, I have no idea what any of this does and I still managed to do the necessary fiddling! The block you want looks like this:

//SCRIPT SETTINGS// const sideToDisplay = 'right'; //left OR right, for character tags with one pipe (two names) const partToDisplay = 'right'; // left OR right OR central, for character tags with two pipes (three names) const tagsOnFicPage = 0; //0 to disable, 1 to enable

4. All you want to do now is change the first line so that it reads

const sideToDisplay = 'left'; //left OR right, for character tags with one pipe (two names)

so that the tag "Maedhros | Maitimo" displays as "Maedhros" instead. If you're a Quenya freak (affectionate) who would prefer all the tags display characters' Quenya names instead of Sindarin ones, skip this step.

5. If you'd also like this change to show on the fic page itself, not just the AO3 search results page, change the third line of the code block to read

const tagsOnFicPage = 1; //0 to disable, 1 to enable

6. Save your changes to the file, refresh your AO3 page, and marvel!

I hate this and want to get rid of it.

No problem, you can turn off the userscipt or completely uninstall it from the Tampermonkey dashboard!

I want to display some names with the left part of the piped tag and others with the right part, is that possible?

Unfortunately not :( This also applies if you're in other fandoms (I hear The Witcher fandom is one such?) which uses piped tags where you want to use the right side of the tag.

Can anyone else see the changes I've made?

No! The userscript applies to your own browsing experience only, so you aren't messing with how anyone else's fics display when you use it.

This is magic, got any other cool userscripts for AO3?

Loads, most of them much easier to use than this one! Here are some links:

Put your "marked for later" button on the AO3 homepage

Add HTML formatting options to the AO3 comment box

Set your default posting language to English

Fix the bug where copy-pasting from Google Docs to AO3 puts spaces around all your italics

And here's a list of many more to peruse!

Cool, how do I get this to work on a mobile browser?

Yeah my laundry's finished now so I'm not typing all that out. Maybe tomorrow.

[meggie-stardust]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks to the ever lovely @lucky-bishop for the tag! <3

How many works do you have on ao3?

74! Which feels both like a lot and not that much at the same time.

What's your total ao3 word count?

270,119?!

What fandoms do you write for?

Right now primarily Teen Wolf and I recently revisited my first fandom of Gundam Wing. I've also written a ton for BBC Merlin, Percy Jackson/Heroes Of Olympus, BBC Sherlock, Harry Potter, Newsies and random other things...

Top five fics by kudos:

Act of Man | BBC Merlin | Arthur/Merlin

Nightmares | PJO/HoO | Percy/Jason

Looking for the Thing We Lost | Teen Wolf | Peter/Stiles

Here I Am (Stuck in the Middle With You) | PJO/HoH | Percy/Jason

Know How A Man Becomes a Beast | Teen Wolf | Peter/Stiles

Do you respond to comments?

Yes, on all of my stuff from the past few years. There are older fics that I've opted not to respond to comments on for varying reasons, but I do read them all.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

When I have angst, I like to have it with a happy ending, but I would probably say this fliclette I wrote based on the prompt: "Can you do a Jasercy fic where Jason is trying to comprehend the fact that Percy's gone, preferably death, but it doesn't have to be."

A Slow Deep Panic | PJO/HoO | Jason/Percy

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I really like the end of Stuck Between Stations. After putting Stiles and Peter in the Wild Hunt and in time loop, the least I could do was give them a happy ending.

Do you get hate on fics?

Not hate, but I have gotten weird comments. I usually just ignore if they are just odd, but I have also deleted comments that are boarding on hate.

Do you write smut?

Yep!

Craziest crossover:

Aside from one HP/Sherlock fic that was co-written with my bestie and that we both abandoned, I don't really do long form crossovers (and that one wasn't crazy anyway). That said, there was a tumblr prompt game years ago, that was for 3 sentence fics and almost every prompt I got was a crazy crossover:

Dean and Castiel. Fight Club

MJN crew (bonus points for including Herc Shipwright). Supernatural hunters.

Sherlock/John. Teenagers working at Mooby's (View Askewniverse).

Jack/Spot, Night Vale AU.

Arthur and Eames. Exorcism.

You can read all of these and a few others: 3 Sentence Fic Collection. And actually, this was a fun trend, we should bring it back.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of, and knock on wood it never happens.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! A few actually, and it's always so, so, so flattering:

Acts of Man was translated into Chinese

Black Sails in the Sunset was translated into Português

Looking for the Thing We Lost was translated into Russian

This is a perfect time to say that I am always open to my fics being translated, podficced, remixed, etc. Just let me know so I can gush about it!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, the aforementioned abandoned HP/Sherlock fic, but it's been ages. @punchedbymarkesmith and I have kicked around some collab ideas, which I think would both be a blast and also for a potentially niche audience. Maybe 2024 is the year this happens!

All time favourite ship?

Steter is the one I've stuck with the longest, but I do have a few that I will always return to in the same way you might eat a comfort meal.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Look, I really, really want to finish It's Only Forever. I have like 1, maybe 2 chapters left. But it's been so long and I feel like my writing has changed, and idk. Every year I say I'm going to work on it, and every year I don't... le sigh.

What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm really good at finding a small moment in canon and then diverging from that. I also think I'm good at authentic dialogue and I think I'm pretty good at world building.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Action/fighting. Keeping things short unless it's a drabble/other restrictive format.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I am not fluent enough in any language other than English to do this confidently. Instead, I would write something like:

Stiles cursed at them wildly in Polish.

or

Peter responded in French, then turned back to Stiles and resumed their conversation in English.

First fandom you wrote in?

Gundam Wing. All of my old fic from *cough* 20+ years ago is lost to the annals of time (actually some is still on archived GW 1x2 sites if you look hard enough). And if you are one of like 7 people who remember my username, you can find my Newsies and Harry Potter fic (my next two fandoms) still on ffn. After I got out of a bad relationship that kept me from my own interests, including fandom, I returned with BBC Sherlock fic, which you can still find on AO3 if you scroll to the beginning of my profile.

Favorite fic you've written?

Gosh, I feel like this changes all the time, but I am particularly proud of At This Truth We Have Arrived. I loved exploring certain aspects of Peter's character, and doing a different take on Nogistune Stiles. I was also able to incorporate a lot of different themes and elements into it, as well as get my own closure with Monroe, something that has bugged me since the finale. Plus, I think I was able to accomplish a reveal that would add extra elements if anyone went back and re-read the story (even if I somewhat show my hand if anyone paid attention to the epigraph).

I have no idea who has done this yet, since I sat on this for a bit... so no pressure tags for @lolahardy @mirrorthoughts @myletternevercame @punchedbymarkesmith @midmorning-bomb @like-lazarus

[idyllcy]

from one admirer to another : how do you like your eggs?

pairing: leon kennedy x reader || masterpost: from one admirer to another

synopsis: from one admirer to another, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their actual address! Luckily for both you and Leon, you get matched up! What do eggs and Christmas even have in common anyway? sure hope it's that modeling business and NOT that Ada Wong addiction.

featuring: reader as scrambled eggs // leon as christmas

Dear scrambled eggs:

it feels strange to write to someone in such a format, but I suppose I should get used to it. We got paired up via from one admirer to another because of our shared passion for Ada Wong. I find it a little amusing that someone else just straight-up put a model's name instead of modeling on its own, but I'm glad you did.

As an ada stan, I feel the need to ask this immediately. How did you feel about her helicopter shoot? I'm hoping you aren't some weird stan like those... yeah. Also, while on that topic, if you're really as die-hard as me when I have free time, you should read glhf <3 by okaokra on ao3. It's gender-neutral, it's a great fic, unless, of course, you're too normal for reading fanfiction. In that case, maybe we can find another middle ground aside from Ada Wong.

Right, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm user Christmas, a weird translation + twisting of my real name. I live in Raccoon City, and I model as a part-time job because of ... you guessed it, Ada. My dream role is to model with her, but considering that I'm only a local model, this is truly out of my reach. Maybe some strike of luck will help me?

I used to dream of being a cop until I got scouted off the street by some guy for modeling. Do you think I suit it? Who am I kidding, you have no idea what I even look like. Maybe you pass me on the covers of local magazines all the time if you live nearby. I'm not nearly as famous as Ada Wong, though, so I suppose I can never truly call myself a big model until I become someone like her. Even then, she's not a supermodel.

Tell me more about yourself, maybe? What's your favorite holiday? How do you like your eggs in the morning? Do you even eat eggs? Why the name "scrambled eggs" over anything else? What do you do in your free time— oh, I should answer that question.

I seldom have free time lately, but I feel like all I've been doing late is reading the fic that I mentioned earlier. Oh, right, hopefully you enjoy the sticker I got from a fan gathering. I did a little bit of research, and it seems pretty normal to send your penpal small trinkets in the letters, so we'll start with a sticker.

I thought the mail would be digital, and then I was notified that you would prefer physical mail — which, to be fair, I'm not complaining about. I think it would be funny to open a box of letters exchanged between a penpal and I 10 years down the line. Who knows, maybe you'll even be at my wedding.

Right, my apologies for a long first letter, but I'm excited to be starting this.

signing off, Christmas

Leon sends the mail the next morning, rubbing his eyes slowly as he rides the public transport to his next shoot, waving good morning to his manager as he sips on his coffee, hair blushed back and gelled, formal clothes handed to him. Leon finds that he doesn't really suit clothes like this, but for the camera, he puts up with just about everything. He finds it interesting that he would be modeling in clothes he hadn't liked wearing all that much.

"You have another shoot later today, and then you're off for the rest of the weekdays. You have another shoot over the weekend."

Leon nods, blinking slowly as the coffee shoots through his system and he's revived magically. It feels unreal. He's working as a model despite finishing the police academy at the top of his class. Is this what delusion and some sweet talking from a random agent can do to a person? It feels a little wasteful to let his training turn into this, but he's not complaining all that much. Yet. he meets eyes with the model he's supposed to be posing with, blinking in surprise. Wow. That appearance is lethal.

He waves at you, giving you a small smile as you wave back, smiling back.

"New?"

"Mm... moreso someone who doesn't like booking. My manager booked this months in advance, so I'm here." You stay still as the makeup artist finishes with you, Leon raising a brow as you give him a cheeky grin.

"Did you leave before your makeup was finished?"

"I wanted to meet you. I heard I was modeling with someone pretty well-known." You grin. "Leon Kennedy, was it?"

"Yes. Am I that big now?"

"Mm... you're quite a name amongst us local models." You tap your chin. "It's quite an honor modeling with you. I heard you have deadly biceps."

"Well, you can't see them through the suit."

"It comes off, no? I'll just fix it." You tilt your head.

"And how do I know you won't jump my bones?"

"Oh, please. I'm your coworker right now. I'm not someone sketchy." You roll your eyes, helping him free an arm as he flexes for you. You blink at his arms, raising a brow as you stare up at him. "Can I squeeze?"

"As long are you're not weird about it."

You grab his bicep, giving it a squeeze as you nod slowly. "God, I need your arm routine. You got a trainer? I'd like to get that contact."

Leon rolls his eyes, fighting the blush that threatens to creep up his neck from your skin contact. God, what is he? fourteen? Get a grip, Leon. "Gotta get that from my manager, then."

"Shame." You sigh, helping him put the suit jacket back. "Maybe the next time I bump into you, I'll have biceps of a greek god too."

"Leon, model two! You two are up!"

"Wow, they don't even name you?"

"Maybe I just like being mysterious."

start : masterlist : next letter

[mischief-lies-and-stories]

Loki Season 2 Wishlist

I've been creating a wishlist for what I want to see in Loki season 2, which premieres October 6.... [pause for long-suffering sigh because I’m so tired] I’m very annoyed that it’s not coming out until October (if it’s genuinely because of the strike(s), I’m not annoyed with the writers/actors but with the studios for not meeting demands so we can move on with our lives, but I’m pretty damn sure the strike is a scapegoat). I’m not surprised they keep moving it back, because they also kept pushing back season one! (I wish this format was audio so you could hear my indignation, haha.) But I wish it was still coming out in the summer like it was supposed to. Anyway, let’s jump into it. (Fair warning, a little bit of ranting incoming.)

First things first, Lokius: This ship has grown on me. I was resisting for a very long time, and I think it took until about episode four or five before I was like, “Okay, fine, you can date Owen Wilson.” And then I was all on board, and at this point I’ve written I think three Lokius fics on AO3 (link in the blog description). So, yeah. @ MCU, if you need some ideas, agree to the writers’ and actors’ demands and then hire me. I’m a lot of things but I’m not a scab. Okay, anyway. 

Genderfluid Loki: I’m genderfluid myself, and the “representation” included in the show was nonexistent. First of all, fluid is not a sex. Sex is assigned to you at birth, on Earth, and it corresponds to your genitalia. You are usually assigned male or female. There may be some places now where you can get Intersex put onto your birth certificate, if that qualifies, but until very recently, most intersex babies ended up undergoing surgery to change their bodies to fit better with one sex assignment or the other. Therefore, fluid cannot be considered a sex, at least in terms of on Earth. Perhaps it could be on other planets, but the people watching this show (as Twitter has been so helpfully pointing out recently) are on Earth, so no, wrong, Loki’s genderfluidity is gender-based not sex-based. I don’t know why they didn’t just put gender on the file, they should have. And that was the only time they included it, and I think that they put it there (aside from being like “ooh look at us we’re so progressive!”) as foreshadowing that Sylvie was going to be a girl. Which is bullshit, because that’s not what genderfluid means, either! Genderfluid means that you, yourself, change genders. And we never, in the show or the MCU in general, see Loki explicitly present or identify himself as anything other than a man. And furthermore, Sylvie isn’t genderfluid either, because she never states that she’s anything other than a woman. Nor do either of them ever request people refer to them using any other pronouns. On top of that, Sylvie is a trans woman, you cannot convince me otherwise, and you will pry that conviction out of my cold, dead, genderfluid hands. (I’m very incensed about this entire thing, I apologize. This is why I inserted the read more and the warning above.) So I’d like to see more of genderfluid Loki (not Sylvie; she’s made it clear that she is a (trans) woman, and I’m respecting that she’s got one gender). I don’t necessarily need to see him shapeshift into a woman, like into a different actor or Tom Hiddleston in make-up or something, because as much as I would love to shapeshift, I can’t, and I don’t think he needs to shapeshift to be his most authentic, genderfluid self (because then what does that say about irl genderfluid people? rant for another time, though, sorry). So I just want a little more justice to be paid to that, and maybe let him change up his pronouns sometimes. All right, moving on, before I get really worked up. 

Verity: I love Loki: Agent of Asgard. Al Ewing is my favorite comic writer for this reason (and not because he’s also bi; I just found that out 24 hours ago). Agent of Asgard is, in my opinion, the best version of Loki ever to hit the comics. It is the best version of genderfluid Loki, the best version of redemption arc Loki, the best version of Loki as a character in general. And his best friend is Verity Willis, ace icon Verity Willis. (I don’t make the rules, she’s ace; have you seen her character design? Have you heard her say that she’s not interested in romance? She’s ace!) I want her, some how, some way, in Loki. This is a little bit more of a stretch, because I don’t know how she can be put in, so this is a little bit more of a pipe-dream of a wish. But I want. her. in. Loki. So bad. 

Theo Bell: I also really like Mackenzi Lee’s Loki: Where Mischief Lies. (It’s a great book; you should definitely read it if you haven’t.) In it, Theo is Loki’s love interest-slash-coworkerish-slash-partner in crime. This story is set in Victorian England. Theo Bell is gay and walks with a cane. It’s been awhile since I read it so I may be taking this theory from a fanfic I wrote, but I’m pretty sure it’s canon that he became disabled as a result of a homophobic attack. (So trigger warning for that, but if it’s canon it’s only mentioned) He’s a great character; he’s funny, he’s snarky, he doesn’t put up with any of Loki’s shit, and he can also (and this might also be me adding to the character but I’m pretty sure I’m right) see through Loki’s lies pretty quickly at some points. So I would really like to see Theo in the MCU. I also have some theories about Theo versus Mobius (shameless plug for one of my fics, Choose Me, which utilizes my theory about them), so I would like for Theo to show up in the way that proves my theory right.

Agent of Asgard Loki: At the very least, I just really want that coat, that coat is so cool. (If you don’t know what I’m talking about, google Loki: Agent of Asgard. The coat that he wears throughout the comic is kick-ass.) I want that coat somewhere in the show, I do not care who’s wearing it. That being said, I really want Agent of Asgard Loki to make an appearance in the MCU at some point. Somehow. I already have some theories about where I think we can go with AoA Loki in the MCU (which I’ll probably post about later). Like I said, I really love that version of Loki, I really love that comic arc, and I want him somehow paid tribute to somewhere in the show. Actually, though, I did just reread the entire comic run, and I noticed that towards the end in the final climax of his redemption arc, there’s a lot of similarities between that and the last couple episodes of season one. So they already seem to be drawing on AoA, so maybe they won’t be able to include the actual characterization of Loki from AoA. But it’s still on my list.

Let Loki do more magic, goddammit!: He does very little magic in season one. Although he’s not able to do magic in the TVA (which was very annoying for the fic I was trying to write the other day), but as far as I can tell, he only does magic like four or five times in the rest of the show. Classic Loki literally says (and I looked up the exact quote because I’m a NERD, can you tell?) “Blades are worthless in the face of a Loki’s sorcery.” And then Loki proceeds to do NO MAGIC for most of the show! So I want him to do more magic, especially shapeshifting. And at one point I think he mentions that he likes doing his duplicity thing, so I think he should do more of that, too. (Which I think based on the only trailer-like thing we’ve gotten so far, it seems like he’s going to do. And maybe I’m stealing this from that trailer, but I think it would be really funny if he did the duplicity thing and then Mobius automatically knows which one is the real Loki, which is hilarious, because Thor doesn’t usually know.)

Give my girl Sylvie a girlfriend: While I do like the idea of her with B-15, I feel like the reason why we’re shipping her with B-15 for the most part is because there are basically no other girls in this show. C-20 is dead, Renslayer is a dick, and we just really don’t want her to be with Loki (you saw my first entry on this list, you know where I stand). I’m counting Loki on this list since he’s genderfluid even though it’s not being portrayed very well. So her with B-15 is fine, I do kind of like it, but I don’t know enough about B-15, I don’t know enough about their relationship. I don’t think they even have enough of a relationship yet for me to really feel like I super ship it. But I just want somebody for her, preferably a girlfriend, because I think that’d be cute. I’m genderfluid, personally, but I’m available. ;-)

Thor: I! Want! Thor! I know we got Frog Thor, but I want actual Thor! I want Thor to give all of the Lokis a hug, in particular Kid Loki (and I have some theories about why he killed Thor, or why he said he killed Thor), Classic Loki, Sylvie, and also our regular Loki. Because I think they need a hug from their big brother (I know they were raised as twins, but I like saying he’s their big brother, I don’t care). 

Classic Loki in Valhalla: Pretty straight forward (and you can read After on AO3, because I wrote this). I need Classic Loki to see Thor and I need Classic Loki to be in Valhalla, because I think he deserves it. (If he’s actually dead.)

Mobius’s backstory: I want to know where Mobius came from; I want to know how he got to the TVA. I want to know if he had a jet ski or if my theory is correct (per Choose Me). 

Why Sylvie was taken by the TVA: There are some great theories about why Sylvie was taken by the TVA, one of which I subscribe to the most as of late (as included in Nothing Matters at the End of the World. I’m pretty sure this is my last plug on this post, I’m so sorry). But I am not convinced that she was taken in because she’s a girl. I think that’s transphobic and misogynistic and nonsense. And I say transphobic because Sylvie’s a transwoman, and I will not be taking criticism on this. I don’t care that that line “born the goddess of mischief” was probably meant to discourage trans headcanons, and I encourage the writers to respectfully get their heads out of their asses and consider that “born this way” is not just a Lady Gaga song (but the song is also relevant in this case). So I think it’s pretty damn transphobic to say that she isn’t allowed to exist because she’s a woman. And it’s misogynist and transmisogynist to claim that the rest of what the timeline demands of her cannot be accomplished if she isn’t a cis man or genderfluid or whatever a “right” Loki is. So I want to know why she was actually taken in. There are a lot of theories online about why she was arrested, and I like a lot of them. And on top of that, she doesn’t know! She told Loki that it’s because she’s a girl, but then when she gets in front of Renslayer, she’s like, “What was my nexus event?” Which implies that she does not actually know. And maybe it’s just bad writing or a plot hole, and that’s very possible. It’s the MCU, and writers make mistakes (I know I sure do, though I don’t have a team of people checking my work). But I’m choosing to go with she doesn’t actually know. She was like six years old, she was a kid, she assumed something. And why would you assume that, if you’re six? Unless you’ve been told something else your whole life. So there are two possibilities for why she assumed this. Either, yes, she’s a cis woman, and spent her entire life until that point being told-- presumably by Odin--that because she’s a girl she’s not gonna rule. Which would suck, but checks out for Odin, because he’s a dick. Or she spent most of her life being told she’s a boy and having to tell everybody that she’s a girl. And even if she isn’t faced with any transphobia on Asgard (as Where Mischief Lies would have us believe), that’s hard for a six year old, and when she’s told that she’s in trouble for doing nothing, she’s gonna make some assumptions, and maybe she landed on that. But I don’t think she actually knows why and I want to know why. And I think she deserves to know why.

Reunite Sylvie with Thor: I either want Sylvie to reunite with her Thor or be sibling-adopted by Loki’s Thor (bonus points if Loki gets jealous and Thor has to be like “Give me a break. I love you, too, idiot.”). I want Sylvie to somehow get her brother back, whether it’s the one she lost or the Thor we know. I think she needs somebody, and I think Thor is a great person for that. Because I think Thor will immediately be like “You’re great. I love you. You’re wonderful, just because you’re my sister, and you’re the best.” Even after just meeting her, because Thor is such a wonderful little golden retriever puppy, and also, he loves Loki so much. And he continues to, even after everything that happened in the MCU! And that’s lovely, and I think Sylvie deserves someone like that.

And finally, I need Loki, somehow, in some way, to be able to lift Mjolnir by the end of season 2: I think he’s moving, very swiftly, towards being worthy of lifting Mjolnir, and I want him to be able to do that. I think that will show him, personally, that he is better and has changed. And I think he needs that physical validation and confirmation that he’s changed. I think that people (Mobius) can tell him until they’re blue in the face that he’s a good person, that he can be good, and that he can do what’s right and be a hero, but until he can lift Mjolnir (the way his brother can, because he’s been told by everyone his whole life that his brother is the best), I don’t think that he’ll believe that he is worthy of anything. And I want Thor and Mobius to see it, and I want them to lose their goddamn minds. Because I certainly will. 

[hallo2838]

Valentine’s Day

Notes:Idk if i should post on ao3 or tumblr im not familiar with both apps. I also wrote for ao3 and posted but since im new it will take like two days to get online idk why I feel the smut of deukae is getting less and less. Maybe some people get inspired after my writing but i don’t think so since ive never write and im just in my horny hours and i don’t even have a good idea also english is not my first language and no proof reading since you know horny hours are in the late hours. Please let me know what you think it can also be negative like just some good feedback but if people show interest i may get inspired to improve my writing and editing the format layout, writing perspective may get messy and mixed and stuff

It’s Valentine’s Day and of course you and siyeon were planning to do something. However tour is upcoming and today is the last day of practice before dc goes on tour. Luckily since you already have a relationship for quite long (5 years) it’s now normal that you go with them on tour. (The reader is probably a student still but you know nowadays can do uni online just a laptop is needed, so the reader doesn’t entirely just throws her life away).

Since it’s busy days there is no actual plan not going out for dinner or doing a cute activity but you two talked about it and of course you find it sad that there is not really time since the weeks before siyeon was already busy with preps. But knowing you still get to be on tour makes it okay.

When practice is done they return to the dorm and you two decided to order some food. Also it was planned to pack things already like clothing and all the necessarities. When packing you showed siyeon some kinky bdsm leather (like you and i outfit but only the belts) and asking which panties and bras should be with them.

Siyeon smirked when you began asking that question and said “oh babe such a naughty question, you know it doesn’t actually mind right? Since you don’t will be wearing it often”. You blushed and felt already getting wet. She always can make you feel turned on by a simple flirt.

Siyeon smacked your ass and then said “why don’t you try the red right now when packing the ones i bought you last christmas would be a waste if you take some which i don’t like. So strip”

The sudden tone change to a comand made you weak. Since you’re such a slut for her you immedieately took of everything and then putting on the red lingerie while siyeon looked hungrily at you. “Let me see it up from close”. She cupped your tits and snapped the waistband against your thigh. “They make you look like a dirty whore, i want you to take it but take off it right now before you ruin the panties already” she whispers.

Packing goes on and then siyeon find some lube and a huge strap and of course it needs to be taken with it. Siyeon showed your the strap and stroked it a bit while having it at her crotch and said “Do you want to be fucked by this big strap the whole tour, do you want to be filled by this cock every night?” Before you could even answer she said “of course i know you do you’re such a fucking slut for me. You’re only good for being my fucktoy which i can use every night and in the waiting rooms, now since this strap is so big i think i need to practice otherwise you might not can take it’. You already felt your thighs getting wet and fuck you loved that strap it makes you feel so full always.

Siyeon groped your ass and mandhandled you on all fours. “Let’s give it a little try you seem like you need it’

You arched your back and wiggled your ass to siyeon while she put on the strap. She spanked your ass once again and then dove her face right into your pussy and gave it a few licks. ‘Just want to make sure you’re wet enough since i don’t go easy’ she said as she spanked your ass twice again.

You felt the strap against your pussy and then in a rapid motion she slammed the whole length in your wet tight pussy. “Fuck it feels so good” you moaned. Siyeon chuckled and pounded you hard right from it slided in. “You were so wet for me it just slide right in, listen to all the wet sounds your cunt makes. I knew you wanted it such a dirty slut for me as always.” She continued to pound you hard so hard the headboard banged against the wall. They must have heard noises in the living room but those noises were not unfamiliar for the members.

Siyeon continued to pound you hard and the slapping skin noises and your moans turned siyeon even more on to pound you even harder if that was even possible “you take me cock so well this strap goes with is on tour. Tell me how much you like it” she said while spanking your ass again. You have a huge spanking kink and siyeon loves to spank an ass (she still spanks and grope the asses of the members even in your sight because she loves it so much)

“Fuckk siyeon it feels so good , i loved to get filled by you”

“You’re such a good slut for me always taking my dick so well” you always get wetter by her dirty talk and felt like you were close to cumming. “Siyeon im close p-please let me cum” siyeon smiled and keeped the pace pn and said “okay baby please cum for me then show me hard you can cum on this cock’. with a few thrust she felt that you cummed since you were shaking but she decided to go on for a little longer and then pulled out. She smacked your ass again, give your shoulder a kiss and whispers “ you were such a good slut for me im glad that i don’t have to miss this pussy for 3 weeks”

She helped to clean you up and then you packed your suitcase further since it still had to be done

[serpercival]

Dear tumblr-user serpercival,

it’s me, the guy who delivered 500 words of gushing about the Foxboy-Trapper-AU in your inbox a week ago (now not hiding behind anonymity anymore!). Told you about how it wouldn’t leave my brain, didn’t I? 

So. Question.: If we could pretend hypothetically that I had 2k of words of fanfiction about your fanfiction (generally the FBT-AU) sitting in my documents, would that be… ok? I remember a post of yours saying it’s fine if one plays in the sandbox, but I can’t find it anymore and I just maybe have started writing. Is there interest on your part in seeing that? Should I delete that thing? Tragically, it is a fake study on the “McIntyre-Method” that you mentioned oh-so-briefly in Professional Courtesy. It features graphs. And a questionnaire. 😎 yeah

Kindest regards and best wishes, Tigoteus

P.S.: I am as enthused about updates on Mating Habits as the next person, but don’t stress yourself!!! Writing is an art that needs time and consideration, your fic is beautiful, I hope you don’t feel pressured to update. This isn’t a race, we’ll be here when the chapter’s finished and if that takes time that’s fine. Anyways. Just wanted to say that. GREAT fic btw.

I WOULD LOVE THAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There's already one piece of fic out there written by someone who wasn't originally involved in the AU's creation so it's so so so so welcome. I'm especially vibrating about the idea of something formatted in a fun way, I eat that shit up 👀👀👀👀👀 If you put it on ao3 you'd be more than welcome to add it to the collection!

I don't feel pressured, no worries! I've mentioned it a few times but I have a truly awful creative writing class I'm taking this semester at school and I just want to upload something to get nice comments about it lmfao. There's even a pretty natural break point; I think restricting myself to only uploading when I have a section break is doing more harm than good with this particular part just because it's so much.

[raccoonfallsharder]

So I'm sort of putting together a fic that's intro'ing Blackjack to the mcu, and was wondering if I should shove it on tumblr, or if I should throw it up on AO3. Never used AO3 before. What's your opinion on where to start?

yoooo first of all i am stoked to read this.

second of all, i have only been writing on ao3 for a few months! (though i have been a longtime reader.) back when i was writing more often, we old people posted on fanfiction.net. i don’t personally have a good idea of whether it is “better” to publish here on tumblr vs ao3 (i know lots of authors who do both; i usually only post excerpts here but i will probably be posting in both locations for my the new drabble series i’m working on).

however i will share with you the most helpful resource anyone shared me about ao3 posting, in case you decide to go that route. the ao3 rich text interface is a little fucked so unless you're writing everything in html by hand it can format your publications weirdly (extra spaces between font styles, double spaces between paragraphs, etc). @aliasrocket (a member of the divine pantheon of rocket content creators whose work i am grateful for daily) helped me out by sharing this doc to process fics through html coding prior to posting (useful to read her whole message to me as it helps provide some context i think).

i wish i had more insight for you but i am hoping maybe other fanfic writers can weigh in?

[fantasyinallforms]

It's an end-of-the-year recap!!!! And what a year it has been! Thank you, @fellowshipofthefics, for putting together this wonderful recap list! Thank you from the bottom of my heart to all the people who have supported me on my writing journey this past year. The Bagginshield fandom has been a haven filled with some of the kindest and most talented people I have had the pleasure of getting to know.

I look forward to another year with all of you.

Let's begin!

~~~~

What is something new you tried with your writing this year?

This was my first year as a fic writer, so everything was something new! I was really focused on building the "voice" of my writing, and I think I did that.

Did you participate in any fandom events?

Oh yes. I did the Thorin Spring Forge (TSF), Kinktober, and The Hobbit: An Unexpected Collaboration (THAUC). I also did about half a dozen drabble events and fotfics monthly events.

What's been your favorite project to work on?

There were not many, but I think for me my favorite was the TSF event. It was a big chance to produce my first ever long-format fic, and the reception it got was more than I could have imagined. You Should Be Safe With Me now sits as my highest kudo's fic.

What was the hardest project to work on?

Sparks & Gardens, for sure. The story is one I'm in love with, but bringing it to life in a way that does it justice can be a struggle sometimes. A struggle I enjoy, oddly enough.

Did you start any projects?

Too many.

Did you finish any projects?

I did! Happy Accidents is a completed Modern AU trilogy.

How many WIPS do you have now?

Four (two posted to AO3)

Share your favorite scene/line!

In chapter three of You Should Be Safe With Me, Thorin busts into Bard's house because he thinks harm is befalling Bilbo. I love how gentle and soft Thorin is when helping Bilbo in that scene.

Share your favorite story title!

I'm very fond of Not Yours To Touch. It took me forever to name that fic!

What does your writing system look like? (i.e. brainstorming, writing, editing - how do you do it?)

Usually, it starts with a scene I like or a general concept. Then, I daydream about it a little and determine if it's a one-shot idea or a long-format idea. One shot, I start writing and see where the idea takes me. Long format I start jotting down ideas in bullet form until I have a really rough outline. Then, I flesh that out until I have a plot. When I have a series of events in order, I want them to happen with maybe a few vague details I start writing. I pause and reread/ rough edit after every chapter and check that my continuity is still good. When it's all done, I ignore it for a few days and re-read it again, then edit. Then it's off to my lovely beta reader, who edits and tells me if something doesn't make sense. Once I get that stamp of approval, I post.

What's the best atmosphere for you to write?

Left alone and quiet

Any particular snacks or drinks while writing?

I'm a beverage girly. I have water, coffee, and some fruit near me at all times. I don't normally snack and write. Most of the time, if I'm writing, I've forgotten to eat.

Do you form playlists/soundtracks for your stories? Or even just for your "writing time"?

Playlist, not really. As I said above, I prefer absolute silence when I write. I do have Pinterest boards for all my WIP's, however.

What advice would you give to a new writer?

You're going to have to be bad at it before you become good at it. So be bad at it and enjoy the process.

What are some goals you have for 2024?

Finish Sparks and Gardens. Finish reputation be damned, and if I'm really lucky, debut my Biker Gang AU. But really just to have fun.

Last but not least, General stats

Words posted to AO3 this year: 191,187

Fics posted to AO3: 22 (all but one was Bagginshield)

Current active WIP's: 2

I can't wait to see what 2024 brings, and I couldn't have done this without you.