#maybe I should start a tag for romanticism

[fumifooms]

"Marchil? I guess I can see it on Chilchuck’s end, but what about Marcille’s? What makes you think she could develop feelings for him?" I’m glad you asked!

The first thing to note is that she does think highly of him

In the page on the right, literally defending his virtues and literally comparing him to Dalclan. And oh…

She does love a brooding mysterious guy who closes himself to love. But surely, Chilchuck isn’t her type at all, right? He’s not princely or knightly at all. In apperances certainly not, both looks wise and demeanor wise, but then that’s why she seeks to know him on a deeper level, to not only look shallowly.

And hmm. Chilchuck really is quite selfless isn’t he? Always looking out for others, and saving specifically her often, always making sure himself and, staying in or even running towards danger for her sometimes. Modesty is often considered heroic…

And can we talk about that drowning one… You can definitely frame the special attention as him knowing she tends to hesitate or be clumsy, and then his insistance on pulling her out of danger that she’s the healer aka the most important to keep alive, but. From the one who says that he just keeps his ass out of fights and won’t help this is a lot of risk to take, and he does die trying to pull her to safety in the dungeon rabbits chapter. And the drowning bit??? That’s when the dungeon collapses. The only reason they DON’T die of drowning here is that the water then gives way to outside. There was NO hope of pulling her to safety here and resurrections would likely not work either, he truly preferred to die with her than try to survive himself.

Sit your ass back DOWN you are in no state, self-sacrifical hero much damn

And Marcille definitely noticed this imo, after all she loves learning all she can about him, remembering things like how he hates waiting on people too. She pays attention to him and what he does and what he says. This to say that it’s notable, whatever reason for it you may think (though we know by this point at least she was already aware he was an adult though it wasn’t internalized), out of everyone it’s Chilchuck’s bed that she wants to sleep in during the Golden Kingdom stay. He’s safe and comforting to her: dependable, the defining trait in her view of him as is shown by the relationship chart in the Adventurer’s Bible.

^ Lending handkerchiefs is a romance trope btw and handkerchiefs have irl history of being used for courting. Especially in old English literature and plays like Shakespeare’s Othello, and personally I do see a lot of Shakespeare in Dalclan (nobility political drama with some romance). There’s how his cowl is a dearly beloved souvenir from his family too, there’s a lot of aesthetic tropes you can apply to him.

All this to say you can 100% romanticize Chilchuck into a princely noble guy if you try and that’s exactly what Marcille does with the wife roleplay. She doesn’t need much in the first place, she latches onto crumbs and makes aesthetic narratives out of details, give her an inch she’ll take a mile.

But what’s interesting about the shift throughout the arc of her and his relationship is that she starts out idealizing him into a little angel of a kid (shapeshifter), and she ends it idealizing him as a virtuous husband and family man instead.

And what’s doubly interesting is that in the former, she’s actively warping who he is personality and demeanor wise to fit the aesthetic, he doesn’t have that bitter pride of not asking for help and the edges have been smoothened. But what she does during the wife roleplay is something else, she acknowledges the flaws and just… Accepts them, rolls with them. She’s aware of his flaws and implements them into the narrative, but the reason why his wife left doesn’t capitalize on them even, rather Chil is chilblivious and his wife loves him very much still, she’s just testing him after having had a night of feeling out of place at his side.

And this is what separates the idealization vs romanticization, she’s not twisting him into someone else she’s just uplifting what he is and focusing on the good sides.

Marcille: "he has a shitty personality sometimes but if he was my husband I’d still cherish him" "If I were your wife I’d be overjoyed to go out with you and would get myself prettied up while you complain about me taking a long time, your friends would tell me that I’m nice and that’d make me happy, but I’d also be sad because you wouldn’t tell me that you love me enough"

He’s angry and his wife left him, he’s *flawed*, but he’s still worth hyping up, still worth having his own romance story, still has a shot of winning back his beloved. She sees him for what he is, human and real and not a carefully scripted character that fits an aesthetic, and she thinks it’s still worthy of love and admiration and fighting for

And what’s funny too is that you might expect her to cool down on him once she learns more about him but actually she only gets increasingly into his business. You tell her your age and next thing you know you promise to introduce her to your family. Give her an inch she takes a mile. And too the thing is, Senshi is equally mysterious but she doesn’t pester him like at all, asks him ONCE about his succubus and he doesn’t even answer and that’s like… It. With Chilchuck it starts off innocently enough with her wanting to know his age, hometown, the stuff she mentions having asked pre-canon. But it just keeps and keeps going and escalating. Think she’ll be satisfied now knowing you have a wife and kids, maybe she’s disillusioned now? Wrong! She wants to know their names and ages and occupations and hey how did you propose to your wife? Do you think she’ll stop after meeting them? What’s next? What will she want to know next????

She’s… Like it’s not a reach that Marcille is all over him. Like it doesn’t mean it’s romantic but she just is. She is not normal about him idk. Can you not ask him about what tongue technique he used when first kissing his wife, give the man breathing room

Marcille could literally go "if I was Chilchuck’s wife" having deeply pondered and thought out the hypothetical and people would still ask where anyone sees any romantic potential between them. Oh wait

There’s a platonic explanation for everything (almost?) in Dungeon Meshi don’t say I’m saying otherwise, but it’s definitely not like there’s nothing here to read into lol

Going off a bit more under read bc it’s my fave topic

Marcille has a whole theme with the charming prince trope with her idealization and storybook motif and Chil is kinda the "Well someone perfect like that isn’t very realistic and romance is usually more complex and that’s ok and good and flawed people can still be ✨virtuous✨" catalyst

Do you see do you see she starts canon thinking the most romantic thing is a prince charming but her arc in the end has her romanticizing an average, flawed, real and realistic family man, who’s on the poorer side and is on the verge of divorce. And that’s what he needed, too, seeing the positive of himself and the situation instead of focusing on the negative is explicitly what inspires him to hope that he might be able to reconcile with his wife, gives him the courage and self-esteem to shoot his shot.

He IS a prince figure instead that now it’s not about idealizing the grand and overt it’s about romanticizing the small things in real life!! About finding joy and beauty in things that seem normal or mundane and uplifting them to make the world feel kinder!!!!

He’s the devoted virtuous man that she wantsss not the storybook prince that’s unrealistic and could crumble like a script at any time. He’s the perfect example of a flawed realistic but virtuous & devoted & loving man. Far from a prince charming, but not fully detached from it either. Something worth fighting for despite the flawed cracks. Like literally, flawed romance being worth fighting for is literally the finale of Chilchuck and Marcille’s arc on the matter, where their separate arcs and issues intersect at the most crucial moment.

Marcille is important to Chil’s arc not only because of her optimism, but also because of her interest and knowledge in romance & matters of the heart, and that’s what he needs to both open his heart up to hope and to try to reconcile with his wife, like idk sounds gay

Their arc together is literally learning to 1) see each other for how they are and not undermining their qualities capacities etc etc while still not leaving flaws unchecked either and 2) opening up to people. Marcille LITERALLY makes Chil open his heart up to hope like idk man. What do you want from me. He’s literally the guy helping her through deconstructing novels and fantasy and rose tinted glasses and like. Deconstructing the prince charming figure into something more real but still romantically beautiful like KUI KUI STOOOOP STOP I’M ALREADY HOOKED I’M ALREADY-

 Ok fine that’s me reading into the tropes too much forgive me for being storybook brained but like. Speaking his heart out to a lone woman on a balcony, Romeo and Juliette shit, asking if she, too, doesn’t want to meet his family, madly blushing. And like she’s learned with Chilchuck it’s all in the little things, all the implications he cannot speak aloud. She does reciprocate, does blush madly back, and the first thing she does is shower him in flowers and jewelry and what in her heart is coded as romantic gifts

A lady, stashed away in a high tower by her lonesome, waiting for someone to call out to her from below… Romeo courting type shit with an offer, a heartfelt spiel, implicit confession from underneath her balcony. Offering him flowers because he succeeded in calling out to her heart…….. And they have to climb to her too…. Crazy

Doesn’t it sound like a proposal. One that’s both so storybook-like and not, contrastedly real and grounded, all about the implications rather than in your face grand gestures, "Don’t you want to meet my family?". They literally have an arc about the topic of romance and this is the climax/pinnacle of it like god?? This is @ the woman who said "Chilchuck is a shy/bashful man so I know he wouldn’t tell me he loves me, but…" btw

To quote a friend, truly the shiny secret unlockable dating sim capture target : THE DUNGEON LORD BIT WAS SO FUNNY BECAUSE HE KNEW SHE'D TAKE IT HOOK LINE AND SINKER HES THE ONE WHO GOT HER TO TURN AROUND COMPLETELY SHES LIKE. WIDE EYED FLAG RAISED???? FLAG RAISED WITH CHILCHUCK 👀👀👀‼️👀👀‼️👀

And the way that this is the culmination of their arc together… Like people are not ready for the ‘Chil calling out to dunlord Marcille on the balcony has Romeo and Juliette romance novels imagery’ take. Or the ‘their arc is about growing to see beauty even in the non-idealized, in the flawed and in the real’ take which makes it so so perfect if she were to lower her ideal from a charming elven prince to a virtuous halfling man (which she does end up romanticizing)

So there, you got to witness in real time what happens when I think about marchil for longer than 2 minutes, there are so many layers it’s a deranged rabbithole. I saw the necronomicon of subtext and it’s driving me to madness with forbidden knowledge that no one else sees

……. Like what if I told you she implicitly picked Chilchuck over a "unrealistic prince charming who’s actually disingenuous" much earlier in the story already. If she was given the choice to think through going with a guy that seems perfect and chivalrous like her succubus she’d pick Chilchuck over the other actually. If I sound insane rn tune in for my full analysis on them coming this month hopefully thank youu. Interwoven arcs of fantasy vs reality and idealization vs pessimism I love youuu

So now you know the general thesis of my planned analysis about the importance of the prince charming figure in Marcille and Chilchuck’s arc, where she romanticizes things to a sometimes worrying degree or idealize people into something easy and digestible and poetic (like Chil being a kid, and then him being a virtuous ✨✨✨husband), and how she needs to value aesthetics less and actual acts and facts more, be more grounded (like seeing people for what they are flaws and all, and accepting that people need money and not pulling through on principles of honor or unity shouldn’t get Namari shamed) and a part of that is accepting that Chilchuck is BOTH flawed and virtuous, a loving husband that still has shitty moods and fumbled his marriage so bad etc etc. So it’s like, her image of perfect prince charming that will whisk you away on an ethereal romance -> realistic flawed middle aged dad with personality issues and a failing marriage but he still is worthy of love and having his cute grand romance story and his happy ending. Ik I keep repeating the same point through this but I need it to be burned into everyone’s brains it has its grip on me I can’t do this. They are so special……

[ratatatastic]

there is nothing more delightful than hearing forsy talk about fishing absolutely nothing more delightful than that so behold. forsy talking about fishing.

"More than just hockey, you're also a big fisherman. Why fishing?" "I don't know, it's something that I did growing up with my grandpa, my dad and my two brothers. It's a good way to relax and get your mind off hockey—Everything really in life. You're focusing on fishing and that's it." "So, when are you buying your boat here in South Florida?" "Well...we'll see. It's mostly a summer thing but I wouldn't mind a boat. I'm pretty simple like that! It's hockey, fishing and family-life. Yeah, that is pretty much it for me." "You're a simple man!" "Yep!" "It's good! It's probably why you're a good player 'cuz you got your focuses. You're locked in!" "Yeah, yeah."

WSFL Inside South Florida | 4.11.24 (x)

"When you disconnect—When you step away from the rink, what are some of the things you like to do over the course of the summer?" "I'm a big fishing guy, so that's pretty much all I do when I'm working out back home." "Where do you go to fish? Where are the big spots in Sweden?" "Can't tell you the best spots. Just around—We actually—Me and my fiancée just bought a house back home. We haven't seen it yet so it's gonna be fun to see the house by the lake...I'm gonna fish that way." "It is furnished? Or are you walking into an empty house?" "No, it's gonna be empty!" "Oh, that's a summer project!" "Yeah, so we got a lot of things to do." "What do you go for? What's the most exciting thing you've pulled in?" "I enjoy pike fishing. I love big pikes. That's probably my favourite." "Is that part of the off-season workout? I mean, the upperbody gets a good workout fishing." "Oh, yeah. I think it's a lot of mental, too! Like, a mental game. So, you know, you gotta stay patient. It's a lot of fun."

Territory Talk | 6.15.22 (x)

"First question, I gotta ask you. What's something recently—off the ice, outside of hockey—that's brought you joy?" "Ooh! When I'm home during summer usually I fish a lot. So, that's something I really enjoy. I've been doing a lot this summer...Yeah, fishing, I would say." "Fishing. That's something you do with friends, with family, by yourself?" "Yeah. Actually both. I fish with my brothers and my dad, and a lot of buddies." "That sounds great! That sounds like a nice way to unwind!" "It is!" "—And the total opposite sort-of mentality of hockey which is so 'go-go-go-go!' physical in-your-face." "Yeah, it's still very competitive. Fishing it's—but it's fun!" "When you're dealing with a professional athlete I can't imagine theres anything that's not at least a little competitive." "Exactly!"

Miami Mic'd Up | 10.12.23 (x)

"We're seeing you're a big outdoorsman... ya like fishing?" "Yeah. I love—I'm a big fisherman." "Yeah? Do you have any—Have you been on a big fishing trip? Or you've just been fishing in Sweden? Down there in Florida? Where you at and what do you like to fish?" "In Florida it's mostly deep sea fishing. I'm more a lake guy. I mean, I'm starting to get into it more here in Florida. Ekblad is fishing a lot, so, he took me out a couple times. It's pretty cool to get a big Tuna and stuff like that...but I'm more of a lake guy, I would say." "Does Ekky make you pull in the big fish? 'Cuz he already said how big and strong you are, 'throwing a 250'... He's like—he gives it over to you or what?" "Yeah, but he's got the whole electric stuff so he's—" "Oh, he's cheating! With the big rod riggers!" "Yeah! He rigs—" "He got into that a few years ago when I was down there with him. He's still into it, he's still on that deep sea stuff. I can never do it, it made me sick." "Yeah. Yeah, he is."

NHL Network | 3.14.24 (x)

man who absolutely wanted to be asked to reel in a big one by his partner but absolutely did not get the privilege because ekkys gone electric mourn for him hes want to be a big strongman and useful but now he cant because of technology.

but also the lakeguy vs seaguy fishing fued we got here is utterly delightful im not surprised if ekky took him out fishing just to try and convince him that its better can you imagine the amount of squabbles theyve got in over fishing. but also ekky took him out fishing. several times. like that happened. okay im gonna normal about that 👍

also not them damsel in distressing ekky like ohhhhh does he make you do the heavy stuff he talks soooooo much about how big and strong you are does he put you to work *bats eyelashes*

forsy, who really desperately wants to be put to work: no no he doesnt 😔😔

and here are just the multitude of photos of forsy fishing (redfin perches and northern pikes) over the years and posting it to ig and the captions are all filled with the weight and length of the fish like oh hes a real fishin boi give me those numbers (x)(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

[allyriadayne]

can you talk more about jacaera....i like your vision

yah sure! thank you 🥰 earlier i talked a bit about jacaera hating baela due to baela performing gender better than her. her relationship to rhaenyra is somewhat similar in the sense that jacaera just like the jace in canon resents their mom, but for different reasons in this case. rhaenyra didn't make jacaera her heir because she didn't want to risk her claim further when her own wasn't that stable (thanks, viserys). when jace learned what it meant it was such a hard hit in their relationship because she wasn't enough, she wasn't perfect like her mother to be chosen as heir. and it's not like she wanted to (she truly believes that luke would be a good king if only she makes a 150% effort in pushing him into shape in all aspects. love you delusional girl <3) it's just the principle of the thing. she's the lesser and can never be anything more than a bastard half girl (she thinks rhaenyra sets her up for failure by birthing a bastard!! at least luke is a boy) whose only worth is how much she can serve her family. it's why she takes such a intense interest in breaching the gap between the families. if she does this...if she can do what no one dares to do.....if she can tame aegon the same way she controls everything and everyone in her life....then maybe she's good. she's worthy of her name.

[katyspersonal]

I think I didn't send you an ask yet so here !

10, 13, and 24 for now !! :D

(Asks from this ( x ) meme)

10. Your favorite ost?

Oh, this is definitely Living Failures! It was the very first Bloodborne OC I've ever heard though. A friend that played From's games shared it with me and back then I didn't pick instant interest in the game (unlike how when I've heard Micolash's theme...), but the music was AMAZING. It was the coolest videogame soundtrack I've heard in years, and I sat until 5 AM that night listening to that track on repeat. Because it got me so hyped I've lost all sleep, that's why!!! Still remains my favorite track, just... absolutely unrivaled buildup, beautiful instruments, and of course, AAAAAAAVEEEEE AAAAVEEEEE STEEEEELAAAAAAR. When I was obsessed with that track back then I of course could not appreciate the lore significance and how well in conveyed the absolute reverence, anguish, yearning and desperation for salvation from the 'stars', so now I love it even more. It is one of the best tracks in the game, it didn't need to be attached to an epic battle to be epic.

13. A cut content you would have wanted in the game?

God, how this is even a question? Of course, OF COURSE, what else it can be other than...... ARCHIBALD'S [EXAGERRATED LIP-LICKING]-

sdfhfhsghfsd okay okay but seriously now xD There is... a lot of stuff. Almost all cut content of Bloodborne is removed in such an elegant fashion that you can sort of still discover how probable it is it upon vague clues... as if it wasn't removed, but hidden (Rom gurl what you doin THIS time). The perfect example is Annalise's unborn baby whose mention was patched out very early after launch, but you can still conclude it from how both Annalise and Arianna lose melanin in their hair and from that bloody trail leading to Annalise's under skirt area.

(patched out and only saved via screenshots)

However, it is for THIS reason why a lot of cut content of Bloodborne is BETTER stay cut - because it creates a more challenging lore riddle! Isn't it more fun to deduce a lore bit using your own observation and analytical skills, instead of just being told what happened exactly? From Annalise's unborn baby to 'if there is Flora would not there be a counterpart named Fauna?', things better stay untouched and create a mystery!

But there is a different kind of cut content as well, and I am talking about…

( x )

I owe this discovery to @val-of-the-north , and also I believe @nymerias-wrath confirmed this detail (she tends to know absolutely EVERYTHING about cut or patched out content so I'd recommend asking her for any clarification you ever need). It sounds like such a good idea! I presume the lake refers to the one Rom is guarding, and again, a bird chirped to me that you'd end up in the upside-down Byrgenwerth. (I really need to gather more solid sources now that I am talking about it...) I still adopt it in my ideas and make it so that Moonside Lake used to be the portal into the rest of Byrgenwerth (and that's how Edgar found Micolash), but Micolash 'closed' it when Edgar had dick brain moment and spilled him the truth just because he was a simp -_- And sent some of the Shadows he had serving him as Mergo's "dad" as a bonus loool.

Not to mention I fucking L O V E Micolash's cut dialogue soooooOOOOOOO fucking MUCH. Just… everything about it. I am, in fact, not all too happy about how we only meet him in the "end" of his way, already fully insane and gone, when cut dialogue suggests he STILL has a struggle left within him, between his human side and 'madman that only cares for higher plane' side (Adeline moment). It was just… so tragic. Like… I get that after everything player been through, meeting him SHOULD have been a comic relief moment so the player recharges and still has emotional energy to care about plot's culmination… There was just no room for the 'betrayal sequence' I suppose? …except there was, and I think the devs could have elaborated Nightmare of Mensis more, make us see Micolash as a friend NPC that we go back to during Nightmare questlines, someone that grows on us to the point we see him as Doll v.2 (maybe he could even level us up too, or give us special benefits in exchange of Insight). So, instead of recharging player emotionally with hilarity (or annoyance, depends on how you feel towards Micolash's "battle"), we could have been recharged by the fake sense of peace and comfort, see him as someone interested in freeing Mergo just as much… and then HAHA LOOSER GOTCHAAAAAA. The only good thing about the decision to make him more plain is that 'traitor' is the fact that betrayal sequence is THE ultimate imba of Tumblr sexymen, and if he did betray us, he'd have even STRONGER grasp on the simps. o_o hoooo boy… There'd be NO survivors....

24. Share a fond memories.

I presume this must refer to fandomry? Because every single moment of playing Bloodborne is already a good memory. xD Hmmm... I already mentioned that time when I got an anon ask on my 'formal' blog, saying 'can we get random alfred hcs'? I felt extremely honoured that someone wanted ME to share the ideas about a character they liked, especially when back then I was just an awkward asocial lore person in the fandom and didn't pose myself as a writer upon request, or just a writer. It is because I cherish that moment of trust so much I avoid saying unflattering things about Alfred despite having grievances with the character. x) It was just such a good memory that I never get tired of bringing it back!

I also have a very good memory of a certain day. That day I was able to catch my coworker stealing money from the cash register (!) and attempting to frame me (!!!), using nothing but my amazing detective skills, so I was already pretty hyped. I was ranting to Val about it in a VC over phone on my way home. And imagine how much more joy and unhinged happiness I felt, when during VC I opened Tumblr and saw the ask celebrating that 'finally good Doll takes are picking up and people are giving her a justice instead of seeing her as gross sexual object and then claiming to love her'. I am paraphrasing but you must recall that one because you clearly got an ask from the same person xD Just... one "victory" layered upon another, and I've felt such intense mania and CHEER, that the raw power of emotions made that day a blinding, bright spot somewhere in the record of my life. This is what happens to a mf when they barely ever feel real happiness and just pretend to look alive. Maybe it was not a big deal in retrospective, but it made me feel DRUNK in happiness. ...so drunk that my response was not very nice and more like 'HAHAHAHA MFKING LOOOOOSERS WHO IS THE BEST LORE PERSON NOW HUH FUCK YOU ALL I AM FUCKIN BALLIN'' that I still feel a bit guilty about ^^"" But it was one of my best memories nonetheless.

Out of a bit more personal stuff, I'd say that you and @heraldofcrow are a very fond memory, and also @jarognieva . You guys sticked with me through everything, even when I started to genuinely spiral to my worst and fully embraced the prospect of you all being sick of me, you still chose to stay mutuals. Seeing you grow from a shy user to someone with very elaborate ideas and a lot of passion was an absolute delight. And I've got to see how much your art improved over time, and how Crow started to draw. I am just glad that I got to at least see you guys get better and make more friends and improve your skills.... (and seeing how much I rotted Crow's brain with overly specific lore bits when I saw her insane theory ramblings about Vilebloods AHAHAHAHAHA.) Like... just watching you guys was a great experience, getting to talk with you and to exchange the ideas is even more than I could have asked for, but I am very thankful.

Also, of course, my version of Rom getting FANART. I cried pathetic unloved kid happy tears all three times I received it. Two drawings were done by Saintmic and another one was done by someone else who is, eh, a NOT fond memory now, really.

Though honestly, Saintmic was a very good fandom memory as well. I once posted a very creepy, weird remark on Micolash as a character and how he'd corrupt people with his cultist brainwashing..... and after some time I got a reblog from him with even WORSE (/pos) take. I was so surprised to see someone having an idea more disturbing than mine. And it happened later too, when I proposed the idea of Micolash not harming fertile females specifically because of his gross obsession with women and birth, and he added that in fact it was more likely that he just used women for rituals (especially their menstrual blood) when men were just cattle. I am dead serious. The creativity and lore just... increased so much as we were exchanging ideas, my lore got so much better, I actually owe my ultra super fantastic and elaborate portrayal of Micolash to him as inspiration and someone giving ideas and honestly knowing Micolash's very soul. Honestly, you can play a game of 'guess how much of my Micolash lore I owe that guy' and you will lose because you probably not estimate big enough. Ya'll just don't know what it feels like to be a weirdo, to feel avoided and shunned even by fellow Micolash simps for "disturbing" and "not sexy" ideas, to question whether I am just spoiling a beloved character with my monkey brain and then meet someone who just hits a blunt and goes all: 'I smell weakness'.

Basically I've found my Stitch yeah. When you get 'the creepy kid' side-effect in the autism drawbacks fortune wheel, you learn to cherish such things </3

Thank you for the ask!!!

[aphvanity]

my best study tip is to drink four cups of tea minimum, block yourself away from everyone you love, and sing the internationale whenever youre distracted

[matchingbatbites]

Wiggly 🧠🪱 Wednesday Thursday!

I was tagged by the ever so kind @runninriot, thank you!! I haven't been tagged in one of these yet

This is something that's been spinning in my brain for a lil bit, and I had to throw it under a readmore because at some point it shifted from thought to ficlet, so.

TW: Stalking, romanticization of stalking

Steve has always been unlucky in love. He's dated around a good bit but hasn't found anyone willing to settle down and start a life with. It's disappointing and disheartening, and he's ready to give up on dating for a while when he meets Eddie.

The guy is a new member at Steve's gym; he asks for some help on his first day there and tells Steve that he's trying to bulk up a little. Steve helps him out, because he's nice like that, and he and Eddie get to talking.

Eddie is super nice, and a huge nerd, but he's always willing to explain the stuff he talks about because Steve is so patient with Eddie during their workouts - because that becomes a thing, having a regular workout buddy.

After a few weeks Eddie asks him out, and though it catches Steve off guard, he agrees. He's pleasantly surprised when it's great, actually, and when Eddie asks him to be his boyfriend after a couple of weeks, he happily accepts.

Eddie is the perfect boyfriend, and he may be the best partner Steve has ever had. He's attentive, he's always bringing lunch and treats to Steve at work, and he never seems to hold back his affection for any reason. It's refreshing, and Steve finds himself falling fast for the man.

So it's surprising when, a few months into their relationship, a woman approaches him at work, claiming to be one of Eddie's friends. He does recognize her name, but when she tells him what she found, he isn't sure what to think.

Chrissy explains that Eddie's been stalking him for months, long before they actually met; tells him about the folders of photos and screenshots and videos she found hidden away on Eddie's phone and computer. Says that Eddie is like a brother to her, but she's worried about his behavior and concerned for Steve's safety.

Steve listens, of course, to everything Chrissy says. He thanks her once she's done, and spends the next day thinking about it all, how he feels about the fact that the man he's been dating is an absolute creep.

Even so, Eddie's only ever been kind to Steve, hasn't given him any reason to not trust him. Fuck, he's been the best partner Steve's ever had, and the thought of losing him is more upsetting than what Chrissy told him.

It should be worrying that the whole situation doesn't scare him the way it probably should.

When he goes over to Eddie's place the next night, he brings it up. Eddie goes pale when Steve tells him about Chrissy's visit, about what she relayed to him. He's trembling by the time Steve recounts it all.

"I'm sorry. It's- You're so beautiful, and I wasn't planning on ever talking to you, I didn't think you'd ever go for someone like me. I was gonna keep my distance, I swear, but even when you were dating someone, you seemed so lonely. I couldn't just stand by, not when I could maybe do something about it. I just wanted to give you a friend- another friend, someone other than Robin you could rely on. I should have known I wouldn't be able to keep my feelings in check."

That falls in line with the man Steve has come to know, Eddie's heart on his sleeve and his care for others at the forefront of his mind. The fact that he was stalking Steve for months seems like an afterthought in the face of knowing that he was more worried about Steve being lonely than he was about staying in the shadows.

"Do you love me?"

"What?"

"Do you love me?" Steve asks again, insistent as he leans in, shrinking the space between them. "Or is this just a temporary obsession? Now that you have me, are you going to lose interest and leave?"

"No!" Eddie's hands snap out like he wants to grab hold of Steve, but stops himself at the last second. "No, I don't- I'm so obsessed with you, sweetheart. I've never felt like this before, and if you want me to fuck off out of your life then I will, but- if you let me, I'll spend the rest of my life being devoted to you."

There's a pause of silence before Steve gives a sharp nod.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Eddie, all I've wanted in life is a partner who loves me. I know I should probably be running for the hills, fuck, I should probably be calling the police."

The color that had returned to Eddie's face drains again, and Steve reaches out to take his hand. "I want you to be obsessed with me, Eds. The whole stalking thing doesn't bother me because it's me. I want someone who's crazy about me enough to stay."

"I don't think you were banking on literally crazy, though."

"Mm, not really. But I think it works for us. Now come on," he says and stands, tugging Eddie up with a grin. "I want you to show me just how obsessed you are with me."

[fortheloveofpiggy]

TW this is a rant about proship and comship! Tags will have more in-depth trigger warnings

Edit: OMG PROSHIPPERS STOP MAKING THIS POST ABOUT DEFENDING IF SHIPPING CHILD X ADULT OR INCEST IS OKAY OR NOT THE POST IS ABOUT THE LABLE I DONT WANT TO ARGUE WITH YALL ABOUT THAT ANYMORE.

This is my one post where all people on all sides of the proship debate can interact. Including proshippers. If that makes you uncomfortable then don’t interact. I hate echo chambers and I want to hear all sides.

Also sorry for cross tagging just want the opinions from all sides

Actual post:

I hate the terms proship, neutral ship, and antiship. They’re all extremes and I hate them. From what I understand the meanings are

Proship: support all ships no matter what even if they��re comships

Neutral ship: doesn’t have an opinion at all

Antiship: is anti any comship which is outrageous

If y’all don’t know comship just means complex ship or they enjoy more morally grey or imperfect ships. This can include things like human X different intelligent species (like aliens, furries, monsters) which most rational people don’t think is bad. But this can also mean kid X adult, family x family, or victim X abuser

I actually don’t identify as pro, neu, or anti because I think some comships are good and healthy. I think morally grey ships are important in media when done correctly. Especially since a lot of relationships are rocky and not always healthy and it’s good to show that in media. My own ocs personally aren’t in a perfectly healthy relationship because of their own issues. But this should be done respectfully and with care. Abuse shouldn’t be romanticized but people can be romantic outside of the abuse going on just like in real life relationships

But in a pedophilic fan fiction or art or an incest fanfic or art there is no such thing as a loving part of it. The relationship in itself is abuse because a minor being with a child is abuse and family members being together is abuse. It’s not healthy for anyone involved to romanticize relationships like that and frankly can effect reality no matter how you spin it because it’s representing something as normal to kids.

Right now a lot of neutrals, antis, and probably a lot of pro shippers are agreeing but that’s where my point really starts

The term “proship” and “anti ship” are too vague. If you say you’re proship you sound like you defend media where children are harmed. I understand the meaning is being proshipping and minding your business but that’s still what you look like and frankly that’s what the term does. If you’re pro everything then that means you’re pro the harmful stuff too

And the term “antiship” suggest that you’re anti shipping in general or anti any complex ship which is also unhealthy for us all because morally grey topics need brought up. Antis also are very very commonly okay with harassment when it comes to proshippers

And neutral ship is basically just saying you don’t have a opinion at all which is harmful because you’re suggesting you’re okay with the harm done on both sides. And I understand some people who are neutral ship agree with me and don’t just not care but I feel like majority is the former not the latter (based on what I’ve seen)

Also disclaimer if you’re neutral because of mental health or because you have better things to deal with that’s valid but identifying as neutral ship does put you in it and i instead suggest staying out of it entirely

So idk maybe we should make a term for the middle. I had a few ideas maybe something like middleship or intentship (intentship meaning enjoying or allowing all ships as long as the intentions are good and are not to romanticize trauma or abuse)

Idk everyone can share their opinions but if I see another proshipper say fiction doesn’t effect reality I’m gonna scream and if I see another anti shipper call all morally grey ships bad as if they done killed their grandma I’ll go insane

[lurkingshan]

La Pluie Meta Round-up

Since many of us have decided to stop being normal about this show, I wanted to get a little more organized about tracking the great meta inspired by the episodes every week. Some of y’all are putting in work to write these amazing essays digging into the text and subtext of this show, and I want to make sure I’m not missing any of it, as well as have a central place to track my own. I thought this might also be a useful resource to others, especially anyone coming to the show late (please join us, this is the perfect moment to get into La Pluie). 

So without further ado, a round up of my favorite essays and posts to come out of the fandom on this excellent show. I will plan to update this each Saturday with the previous week’s meta as we go through the final four episodes. I tried my best to find everything but y'all know how faulty tumblr’s search and tag functions are, so if you think I missed something important, let me know!

First, the most crucial essay about La Pluie that everyone must read

We Must All Get Gayer and Louder About La Pluie Immediately (@bengiyo)

Second, a round up of some of the essays exploring the structure and intent of the story

Note: these may contain random spoilers for some episodes but are not specifically about any given episode

Four schools of thought on soulmates (@shortpplfedup)

Intentional subversion of the soulmate trope

Interrogating the romance genre (@chickenstrangers) 

La Pluie and the subversion of second lead syndrome

La Pluie and the subversion of the faen fatale

La Pluie: On the Lore 

Locations of La Pluie (@colourme-feral)

Name meanings in La Pluie (@recentadultburnout)

Narrative determinism versus genre determinism (@ginnymoonbeam)

On the subject of consent in recent bls (@williamrikers)

Romance tropes don’t work in real life (@heretherebedork) NEW

Romantic idealism in La Pluie (@ginnymoonbeam)

And finally, episode specific reactions and predictions

Note: These are spoilerific, starting at episode 4 aka when we all started really losing our minds over this show

Episode 4

Defying destiny (me and @bengiyo)

La Pluie Ep 4 And My Love Of Emotionally Available Characters (@bengiyo)

You (Yes, You!) Should be Watching La Pluie

Episode 5

La Pluie Ep 5 Stray Thoughts (aka birth of the Tai’s Dad is queer theory) (@bengiyo)

What we know about Patts (plus Shan and Ben’s vindication)

Working out the colors in La Pluie (@respectthepetty)

Episode 6

Hands in La Pluie Ep 6 (@wen-kexing-apologist)

La Pluie meets Nora Roberts (@syrena-del-mar)

On suspicion of Patts (@ginnymoonbeam)

Patts Was Going to Blow Tai. Tai Wanted It. Why That Matters. (@bengiyo)

You need to be watching La Pluie

Episode 7

Hands in La Pluie Ep 7 (@wen-kexing-apologist)

La Pluie: Maybe we will get a happy ending after all (@neuroticbookworm)

On the bed scene in Ep 7 (@ginnymoonbeam)

On the make out session in Ep 7 (@shouldiusemyname)

Episode 8

La Pluie and the Exploration of Romance, Competence, and Queerness (@bengiyo)

La Pluie: Do you still believe in soulmates?

La Pluie: The most important thing is that we really love each other

The Language of Love in La Pluie Ep 8 (@wen-kexing-apologist)

Third Child Syndrome: Birth Order Theory in La Pluie (@syrena-del-mar)

Episode 9

La Pluie and The Kind One (@sunshinechay)

Soulmate Skepticism vs Romanticism in La Pluie (@neuroticbookworm) 

the divine in me; the divine in you (@liyazaki)

The Kindness is the Point (@bengiyo)

The ultimate message of La Pluie

To love is a choice (@heretherebedork) 

What matters is CHOICE (@shortpplfedup)

Episode 10

A Jungian Perspective on La Pluie (@syrena-del-mar)

A Logical Love Doesn’t Exist (@fadelikeclouds)

break your own chains (@liyazaki)

Diving into Tai’s mind: Actions do not speak louder than words (@fadelikeclouds)

La Pluie: A Masterclass in Conflict Writing in Romance

La Pluie Breaks the Soulmate Bond

La Pluie: Not All Gays Are Great (@bengiyo)

La Pluie the Soundtrack (@shouldiusemyname)

Lomfon thoughts (@rocketturtle4)

On Tai’s isolation (@sunshinechay)

On villainising Patts (@shortpplfedup)

Pee Peerawich Can Fucking Act (@wen-kexing-apologist)

Revisiting episode 8

Similarities between Lomfon and Tai (@iguessitsjustme)

Tai and Patt’s incompatible conflict styles and Tais’ conflict avoidance (@ginnymoonbeam)

The Depths of Inner Turmoil (@syrena-del-mar)

The Soulmate Label (@indigostarfire)

Understanding the Core Four of La Pluie (@neuroticbookworm)

Episode 11

Balancing Self-Absorption and Love in La Pluie (@syrena-del-mar)

Checking in on the colors (@respectthepetty)

Connection (@wen-kexing-apologist)

Communication (@shouldiusemyname)

Even though they’ve separated it doesn’t mean they’ve failed (@chinzhilla)

It isn’t destiny- it’s freedom (@liyazaki)

La Pluie and the Aftermath

La Pluie: Thoughts on the Queer Subtext and More Patts Reflections (@bengiyo)

On Tai as a middle child of divorced parents (@slayerkitty)

On Tai’s special treatment within the family (@shortpplfedup)

Parenting in La Pluie, Episode 11 (@neuroticbookworm)

The narrative is letting Tai be unlikeable (@sunshinechay)

[klausinamarink]

Love Over Box Labels

rating: G | cw: none | tags: modern au, no Upside Down, the romanticism of workings at warehouses | wc: 987

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | Dec 4: Meet Cute at Work

—

When his dad had threatened Steve into working at a warehouse instead of being the good CEO’s son, Steve had laughed at his face and said, “Go ahead! Maybe I’ll like it better than your stupid neopet position!”

It’s been two years since that conversation. And Steve’s still working at the warehouse. Though it’s not the same one his dad plunked him in. He’s since transferred to another place for a full time position. And Steve loves it.

Maybe ‘love’ is too strong a word to use. Steve definitely doesn’t love waking up at five-thirty in the morning every weekday, requiring espresso to prevent falling asleep on his feet within the first few hours, and the muscle strain from all the heavy lifting.

But warehouse work is surprisingly mundane and much better than Steve expects. He chats with his coworkers, the music choices aren’t bad, and the days can pass within a blink through the repetition of box folding and forklifting shipments.

There’s one guy that keeps catching Steve’s attention though.

As one of the new contract workers who came in last week, the new guy - Eddie, according to his ID badge - has long curly black hair tied up in a bun, black fitted clothes with different band tees, and a few tattoos on his bare arms. His brown eyes were dearly expressive, a bit helpful since he was also one of the few employees still wearing a mask. (an automatic sign of a decent person in Steve’s mental checklist)

As a team leader trains Eddie on the basic operations of their taping machines at the other line, Steve keeps sneaking glances at him as he steers a pump truck of packages into the shipping area. Eddie’s eyes are narrowed with concentration, nodding along at Deb’s words, probably unaware of his surroundings at the moment.

Steve gives out a quiet sigh. Then he mentally slaps himself. Jeez, this is a new low bar of pathetic-ness for him. Crushing on a new coworker who either doesn’t know he exists or has noticed Steve and thinks he’s a creep.

He should probably just be normal and try talking to Eddie during lunch. Problem is that Eddie is working on another line which has a different break time than Steve’s line. So unless the leaders rotate the employee’s positions to other lines next Monday, then Eddie’s going to be far from Steve’s reach.

Steve shakes his head, focusing back to his work. Whatever. It’s just a stupid crush. He’s gonna get over it because he and Eddie are never going to talk anyways.

—

“Steve, can you let Eddie help you with those labels?”

Steve blinks at Karen, caught off-guard by her sudden appearance with Eddie right next to her. He only manages to answer coherently, “Oh, sure!”

“That’s lovely!” Karen smiles at him, patting Eddie on the arm as she leaves. And then it’s the two of them at this table with stacks of boxes and rolls of labeled stickers.

“So…” Steve starts. “You're new here, right?” He kicks himself in the shin because what the hell, Steve?

Eddie just gives a jerky nod. “Yeah, first season.” He says, clipped. His eyes flick down to the labels questioningly. “How do I..?”

“Oh, this is like, super easy stuff, dude.” Steve says, hoping he doesn’t sound too eager on showing off the beauty of box labeling. “You just take this white label, place it here right above the numbers, take this..” He continues his demonstration to Eddie, who’s once again narrow-eyed with concentration. Steve nearly flutters when he notices how close enough he is that he can see the pinched furrow of Eddie’s eyebrows and a faint speckle of freckles below his eyes.

Be still, my bisexual heart. Steve demands as he looks away just before Eddie’s eyes - they’re so round, oh god - catches his. “You got it?”

Eddie nods, “Easy enough.”

“Cool.”

Unfortunately, that’s just all they say to each other as they work in tangent on the labels. Steve wants to talk to Eddie again. Bring something up like-

“Nice tattoos, by the way.”

Lord, please smite me from this earth and send me to Amazon.

“Thanks, man.” When Steve looks at him, Eddie’s eyes are crinkled up. “They’re super old, though. Got them when I was a rebellious junior student. Been thinking about getting new ones over it.”

“I mean, if you wanna change them or whatever, that’s totally up to you! Just saying that the bats look wicked.”

Eddie quirks an eyebrow. “You like the bats?”

“Yeah! They’re, uh, your favorite animals?”

“In a way.”

Pretty soon, they both fall into an easy conversation, discussing bits of their respective upbringings and what they’d done before coming here. They only pause to collect new boxes and bring the finished ones to the packers. When lunch break is called, Steve’s relieved that Eddie now has the same schedule, allowing them to talk more.

It creates a delightful feeling in Steve’s chest.

—

“I really learned a lot,” Eddie says as they walk out the building together at the end of the shift, “I don’t think I could survive today without you.”

“Really?”

Eddie takes off his mask. Steve’s heart flips sideways at the sight of the other man’s eye-crinkling smile. “Yeah. Now I know how to label boxes like my life depends on it.”

Steve bursts out a good-hearted laugh, “Well, if you want more advice, I can give you my number.”

Eddie stares at him for a beat before smiling wider, “I wouldn’t mind that.”

[bigball-thefrog]

Shanks x mermaid reader!

A Hangover And A Mermaid: Shanks X Mermaid!Reader

______________________________

Thank you for the suggestion! I've actually had this idea in my notes for awhile but I wanted to save it for later. PLEASE NOTE, I have not yet watched Fishmen Island so if anything about the mermaid is inaccurate or wrong, I am sorry.

Warnings/Tags:

Not really any romantic tension so you can decide if you want this to be romantic or not.

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! The reader is a grown adult but just very curious and sheltered, I am in no way making the reader act like a child and romanticizing it! Adults can be curious and sheltered as well

Mermaid reader

Mentions Shanks being hungover

Fluff

______________________________

Shanks POV

My crew and I had stopped at an uninhabited island to rest for awhile. Last night we feasted and drank to our hearts content and now I've got the worst hangover.

I made my way to a private and quiet part of the beach away from the crew to try and help this bloody hangover. It was quiet the only sound being the sound of the waves crashing onto the beach. I took off my shoes and sat on the sand, the water just barely touching my feet. Other than the sun, it was peaceful. The chatter of birds, the water, the wind, the pair of eyes staring at me over some rocks... Wait, a pair of eyes staring at me over some rocks!? I looked over at the rocks and yup, there were a pair of eyes peering at me. I called out to the pair of eyes and they disappeared, hiding behind the rocks. I got up to go investigate and when I looked over the rock I was confused, there was nothing, I looked back up and scanned back over the rocks and there were the eyes again, looking over another rock, I went to look over there but once again, they eyes had moved, getting a little frustrated I activated my haki and heard a thud. Whatever this creature is wasn't the strongest if my haki made them pass out. I walked over to where I heard the thud and there, now passed out in a small sea pool lay a mermaid.

My God, it's rare to see a mermaid outside of Fishmen island, especially so far. Maybe they're lost, I probably should wake them up and find out. I started shaking them, not aggressively but hard enough and it worked, they groaned and their eyes started fluttering. Once they were open our eyes met and they froze, I could see them getting ready to try and get away but I grabbed their wrist, "Wait! I'm not going to hurt you. I just wanna talk." I said, trying to sound friendly and reassuring. The mermaid calmed down and now looked at me curiously, "You're not going to attack me?" "No, I have no reason to. I just want to talk" the mermaid smiled at me and I smiled back. "Now tell me, what's a mermaid doing so far away from Fishmen island? It's dangerous for you to be out here." "I ran away. I've lived on fishmen island my whole life and I know nothing about the rest of the world, and my parents refused to tell me anything as well, so I decided that I'm going to discover the world on my own." I put my head on my hand, "You're quite a brave one. Not many mermaids like to leave Fishmen island, usually mermaids like to stay where it's safe and trust me, the ocean isn't that safe" "Well I've had nothing but an amazing time out here! The wide open sea, the fish, the freedom. Oh it's bean great! Although this is the first time I've interacted with a human.." "Oh, well I'm glad to be the first, I'll try and make a good impression~" I have them a small wink. They smiled and moved a little bit closer. They started looking at my body, curiously, looking at my hand, my neck, and any other part that's different from a fishman. I chuckled at their curiosity and let them look further. They tried reaching for my pants and that's where I stopped them, "Sorry sweetheart, that's only for when we know each other really well~" I winked at them and they pulled their hand away

They continued looking at the rest of my body and their eyes landed on my amputated arm, "How did that happen??" they asked curiously. "It was a sea beast." "Sea beast?!" "Yeah, one of my friends got taken by a pirate and I rushed to save them, when I got there, my friend was drowning and a sea beast was swimming right underneath him! I managed to get my boat to him just in time, I pulled him in and made sure he was breathing, but as soon as he woke up, the sea beast shot up out of the water and bit my arm clean off!" the mermaid gasped and clutched onto a rock, "How did you survive an encounter with a sea beast?! They're huge!!!" I chuckled again and leaned closer to them, "I turned around. I looked at the sea beast right in he eyes. And all I said was, 'Get, lost!' and the sea beast fled back into the ocean scared.." the mermaid looked at me with wide star filled eyes, amazed at my story, "No way... You just told the sea beast to get lost and it left?!" I nodded. They gasped again, "You. Are. AMAZING!!!" They shouted, "I've never met anyone that's been able to scare away a sea beast! They usually don't listen to anyone! And then you just tell it to leave and it listens?! That's so cool..." I laughed and patted their head, "Man, pirates are mean. I hope I never run into anyone like them." the mermaid said, I smirked and looked at them in the eyes, "Oh don't say that sweetheart, you hurt my feelings~" I said teasingly. Their eyes widened in shock and realization, "No way, you're a pirate?! Oh my God I'm so sorry! I just thought that... You were just so nice, and I usually hear people say that pirates are mean and evil!" "Don't worry sweetheart, there are some evil pirates, but there are good ones. I try to be one of the better ones." I I gave them a reassuring smile and they smiled back.

"Hey, have you ever thought about being a pirate?" I asked, their expression went to a thoughtful one, "I'm Not sure... Can a mermaid really be a pirate?" "Anyone can be a pirate sweetheart, you just need the spirit and the sense of adventure." the mermaid thought some more and smiled, "You'd really let me join?" "Yeah, you can swim next to our Ship while we sail, we can stop at night so you can rest, and you could even be a secret weapon when we're under attack. How about it? You join my crew and can get to see the world while being protected?" the mermaid thought some more then looked me with a bright smile, "I'd love to!" I smiled back and held out my hand, "Then from this day onwards, you are now apart of the Red Haired pirates and I am your captain, Shanks" we shook hands and it was done, I now had a mermaid on my crew.

"But let's just stay here for a while longer, I still need to work off this hangover" the mermaid giggled and started to swim around while they wait. I put my feet into the water and watched them swim for the rest of the morning.

______________________________

Thank you for reading and I'll see you next week!

Kelly🐸

[husbandhannie]

don't tough it out

pairing: jeonghan x reader

warnings: reader is in a toxic (not detailed) work environment

word count: 600

a/n: popping in for a bit to write little snippets

tags: @itsveronicaxxx @leejungchans @junhui-recs

“everything okay?”

jeonghan’s voice makes you look up from your phone, the masked concern on his face making you forget about your worries for a second. 

“yeah”, you respond, closing the outlook app and putting down your phone, “just checking email”.

“ah”, he nods, “your boss?”

you sigh.

you really thought your first job would be different. while you’d heard plenty of stories about micromanaging bosses, you didn’t think you’d end up with one on your very first job. when you received the offer letter from your company – your dream company at the time, you couldn’t have predicted the constant ball of anxiety your supposed “dream job” would give you.

“yeah, it’s just”, you start, before giving up, “not great”.

jeonghan extend his hand to rest over yours, squeezing in support. i’m sorry i can’t make it better, it says.

“do you think i should look for other jobs?”

you’re not sure what makes you ask the question. you hadn’t even seriously considered it before this moment. things have been stressful since the first week, but leaving your job barely a year into it was not something you ever considered doing. 

despite the unexpectedness of the question, you find yourself anxious to know jeonghan’s response. his face betrays no clear emotion – is he glad that you’re leaving a toxic situation? relieved that he won’t have to hear you complain again? or is he disappointed that you’re giving up so soon? that you can’t stick it out even for – 

“i don’t want to tell you how to live your life”, he answers, squeezing your hand again. 

ofcourse. you smile despite yourself. it’s not like jeonghan to cross lines.

“i want to know”, you respond, your voice sounding rather desperate, “please”.

your boyfriend pauses for a second, pondering. 

“you’re an intelligent professional with two degrees and a year of proving yourself in the industry”, he starts, eyes intently focused on you, “you’re dedicated, hard-working, and have well sought-after skills in your field”.

it’s silent for a moment. when he speaks again, it’s much softer.

“you deserve a workplace where you’re valued and respected”, his other hand reaches out to rest on your thigh and he scoots closer to you on the couch, “and not one where you’re constantly questioned and overworked”.

it’s silent again for a moment. you’re not sure how you manage to not cry.

“i think i should look for other jobs”, you say finally, swallowing the lump in your throat, “it’ll take a while, but i don’t want to do this anymore”.

you’re not sure why you thought sticking it out at your toxic job would make it better somehow. maybe it was that you had romanticized jobs in your field when you were a student, or maybe it was that you didn’t want to throw the towel in so soon. 

or maybe you didn’t think people in your life would support you giving up on your supposed “dream job” so easily. self-doubt is a funny little thing – it makes you doubt the loyalty of people who have always stood by you.

people like jeonghan.

“i’ll update my resume, maybe ask some friends to give me tips”, you speak to fill the silence, “god, i’ll have to brush up on interview techniques. i should also ask friends if their companies have any vacancies – “

jeonghan’s soft voice interrupts your ramblings. 

“i’m proud of you”, his hand reaches up to frame your cheek.

“because i decided to leave my job?”

“no”, he smiles, “because you decided to put yourself first”.

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Coerce - Yan! Kaeya x fem! Reader

Yandere! Kaeya x fem! Reader

Part 2 of the “Baby Trapping” Series

Warnings: General yandere themes, toxic relationships, heavy religious themes, mention of corrupted organizations (The church), emotional manipulation, slight victim blaming, black mail, coerce, implied physical violence, possessive and obsessive thoughts and behaviors, implied controlling behavior, implied codependency (both parties), dehumanizing reader, injury, mention of blood, wanting to punch Kaeya in the face for this one, and inaccurate religious customs/tellings.

Not sfw warnings: d00gy style, vaginal fingEring, mention of loss of virginity, one slap on the ass, teasing, cumming inside without permission, dub-c0n/non-c0n, use of pet name (Sweetheart and probably sweetie I forgot), coerce into doing the act itself, hint of corruption kInk, baby trapping.

Please tell me if I missed any warnings that are needed.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT condone any of the harmful and toxic behaviors and thoughts that may take place in this piece of FICTION. None of this should be romanticize or even considered normal as it is extremely toxic and dangerous. If you find yourself in such a situation, please seek help if able to.

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

WARNING: DUE TO TUMBLR’S SHITTY TAGGING SYSTEM, NOT EVERY TRIGGER WARNING WILL BE TAGGED, SO PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS THAT ARE ABOVE. THANK YOU.

MINORS AND AGLESS/BLANK BOGS DNI OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. THANK YOU.

Wordcount: 4840k

Unedited

==

 Kaeya thinks of you as a pet. As cruel and inhumane it is, he can’t help but to think of you as one. A relationship was never confirmed, yet you still wait for him like a loyal dog. Tail wagging whenever you saw his face, heard his voice as he talks to others. He likes to make you chase after him, your attempts to make him notice you cute.

And, of course, he does reward you, at times. He gives you attention if you’ve been especially good, following his unsaid orders. Pets your head in private, praises disguising the insults he’s casually throwing your way. Nothing serious, it’s just cute, the way you take him at face value. Too scared to face the reality that awaits you.

And he loves it. He’s sadist at heart, despite being as lonely as a winter tree, bare of any of its leaves. And that’s something he’ll never admit, not to you, not to himself, not to anyone. And maybe, he thinks, that’s why he keeps you around. You follow him around like a lost puppy no matter what, even when he leaves you waiting at the Anemo Archon’s statue two hours after the meeting time. You always wait for him, no matter the time.

Unless work comes into play, then you avoid him like the plague. It slightly annoys him and has implied you should focus more on him towards the end of the week, but he never forced you to. He’s a busy man himself, his job is demanding, so he understands why you would put your work before him. You can’t live off him.

Even so, you’ve been acting… different, as of late. You didn’t bother to say hi to him as you pass by, instead rushing past him. Like you didn’t want to see him, even. Okay, sure, your affection for him has slowly, but surely, started to dwindle for the past few weeks.

Turning him down gently whenever he asked you out, avoid running into him on the streets, stopped going to Angel’s Share almost completely, only visiting the Tavern when you know he’s on patrol duty. You have his schedule down to a T, and from the looks of it, you keep changing yours. Like you didn’t want him to contact you, fading away like a ghost.

Like you wanted to become a ghost of his past, and he yours.

He could feel it; you’re slowly untangling yourself from his web of lies, starting to look under that flirty exterior and see the liar he is, how shallow he can be. But you don’t have the courage to leave him, he thinks. Ah, but that’s the problem – he thinks. He doesn’t know anymore, your actions and behavior slapping him in the face. The whiplash is something he didn’t expect.

And it stings more than he’d like to admit.

But no matter, a few sweet lies here and there, and you’ll be back to normal in no time. Bringing him lunch on your break, waiting him to get off of work if you didn’t have a shift or managed to get off early. Waiting for him like the loyal dog you are, at his beck and call.

You’re supposed to be obedient. Docile and demure, never leaving his side. He’ll be bored otherwise, yes. He has – should have – you under his thumb. You told him yourself that you can’t live without him.

God, his mind is everywhere right now. He’s torn between acting indifferent and confronting you. But that’s not like him. He’s not the type to ‘beg’ nor is he the type to talk it out. You were supposed to be a means to pass the time. He had planned to (eventually) let you, be it through heart break or directing your affections and attentions to another man.

Thinking about that now leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. Salt, it tastes like pure salt, a thirst so strong he almost can’t contain it. This isn’t like him. He’s slowly falling apart the more you avoid him. How long has it been? Weeks? A month?

A month too long. His value as a person is low, he knows that. And deep inside, he’s aware he’s kept you around so much because he was unknowingly desperate for validation deep inside. He’s both aware and in denial about needing you by his side, lest he crumbles into dust. You’re both a curse and a blessing.

And he hates himself for feeling this way.

He’s possessive of you, extremely so. He’s aware of that, he keeps up with the façade of being a nice guy just to keep you around. No matter how he treats you, in the end, Kaeya is nothing more than a twisted, horrible man in ‘love’.

Which is why he has you on you cornered against one of the benches in the church, ready to taint you a dirty black. Did you think you could escape him so easily? No, did you think you could escape him at all? How naïve of you. But it’s cute – you’re cute – so he’ll forgive you.

“Hey there sweetheart… long time no see. How long has it been? A month?” He smiles ever so sweetly, but there’s bitterness seeping through. He doesn’t like the way you stare at him in worry. Worry for your well-being.

“Ka… Kaeya? What are you doing here?” You shift in your seat, eyes looking at the small space between his arms against the back rest and the wooden seat. You’re thinking of escaping. He can’t have that, now, can he?

“A little birdy told me you spend your time here now. I just wanted to check up on you, you know? Can’t blame me for wanting to see my favorite person, can you?” He answers while tightening his grip on the wood, waiting. Will you make a move?

Or will you succumb to him and behave like a good girl?

“’Favorite person’… yet you barely, ever showed up on time? The math doesn’t add up, make it make sense, Kaeya.” Oh, you have a bite now. A mistake – it only makes him want to tame you.

Your fingers are clenched in front of your chest, as if in payer. “Since when did you become religious?” He stares down at you, hating how you didn’t bother to meet his eyes. You just stared at his chest, there but not really seeing it. Not really seeing him.

Had he really become a ghost of your past?

“Since I gave up on you.”

Ouch. Okay, that hurt, it stung, and he really wants to shut your mouth, preferably with his. Your neck looks so easy to strangle. Should he do just that?

Enough to make you gasp, not enough to injure you.

“Oh? That’s a bit hard to believe, sweet cheeks. Just a month ago, you couldn’t go a day without seeing me. What made you change your mind?” He doesn’t budge when your hands unclench, landing on his chest, pushing him away. He’d rather you pull him closer.

You let out a sigh, clearly done with him and his antics. He wants to say you’re overreacting, but that’s hard to say when he’s aware of his own actions.

“Well, for one, please move aside. It’s uncomfortable,” your eyes shut close and brows furrow. Your patience with him is finally about to snap. How adorable.

“You’re a sweet talker, purposely flirting with other women to get a rise out of me. You never show up time when you ask me out, and sometimes you didn’t even come. You’ll shower me in gifts during the day, only to insult me with sugarcoated words, thinking I wouldn’t notice. You love to make me suffer, to drag me along a leash like I’m a dog.”

Kaeya listens, not once interrupting you. The way your voice gets higher, and tears form in your eyes makes him want to gag you on his cock. The thought unsettles even him.

“And not once did you clearly say what our ‘relationship’ was, even when I questioned you about it,” you finish off, harshly wiping away a stray tear with the heel of your hand.

Everything stays quiet, as he processes your words, your actions. You’re not wrong, and the rational part of his mind doesn’t blame you. Can’t blame you. But his pride and yearning come first. How hard can he make you cry? How hard can he make you regret leaving him?

“I see… such a shame, then. I apologize for making you feel such a way,” he smiles, gently removing one of his hands from the backrest, choosing to softly caressing your cheek. His thumb rubs under your eye, effectively ridding of the tear sliding down, unconsciously leaning into his touch.

He likes you this way.

Docile. Obedient.

Shyly, you look downwards. A soft sigh before you push against him harder, and this time, he takes a step back, hand leaving your cheek. “You’re apologizing for making feel bad when you should be apologizing for acting shitty.” And the bite comes back.

You pause before adding on, “And besides… I’m in training to become a nun, in case you didn’t notice my attire. Or did you think I was cosplaying?”

Yes, he thought you were cosplaying. No, he won’t admit he feels like an idiot now.

“A nun huh… a surprise sudden career change.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Is it a question worth answering?”

You can’t help the way you smack your forehead with the palm of your hand. He finally made you irritated. And then, a smirk stretches on his lips.

“I didn’t realize non-virgins could completely serve gods.” The way your eyes widen and how you jerk your head up to look him has him smiling. He’s a shitty person for bringing that up*.

“What a rude thing to say! And besides… we both know there’s currently a married woman with a child who became a nun.” You balk at him, clearly uncertain about your situation now.

He had taken your virginity a year ago, back when you were still in the honeymoon phase. You had sex a total of three times between that period and now. And each time, you declared your love for him. Can the church accept such a sinner?

Perhaps the Archons could and would, but the church is different story. It’s rather fickle, picky with who it takes into its arm and who it shuns within the shadows. Corruption and religion go hand in hand, you can’t deny that. You could only ignore it.

“I suppose your right…,” he leans in closer, one hand grasping the backrest again, mouth next to your ear. His hot breath makes you shiver. “But whose to say they’ll accept you as well? You know just how picky they can get… would be a shame if someone were to…,” his teeth nibble your ear, eliciting a small gasp from you, “tell them.”

He pulls back a bit, able to look you in the eyes. The horror and resentment in your eyes both amuse and hurt him. So, you really have grown tired of him, have you? Such a shame he hasn’t grown tired of you. And he’s not sure if he ever will.

“… you really are a horrible man,” nothing but bitterness lies within your words. You don’t even bother to hide it, instead wanting him to know how deep your distain runs for him. “Why are you bothering me so? Have you not grown tired me, despite always throwing me to the side? I was never your priority so I don’t know why you’re so intent on making my life a living hell with just your mere presence alone.”

“You’re nothing more than a depraved man seeking salvation that will never come. *”

Something snaps. His hand hurts and feels wet. A warm liquid, a horrified squeal, he’s not sure what the fuck happened. Whether he’s finally become mad, or if he’s finally became the fallen empire that crumbled away with only sinners left.

He needs to get a hold of himself. He’s not too fond of physically violence despite his job, nor does he want to be seen as a mindless caveman. So, he takes a step back, taking a deep breath and out. And he’s back to normal.

You don’t say anything, probably can’t, and only realizes why when he looks where your eyes are glued to; the bench has been snapped, the backseat covered in broken wood. He looks at his hand. Wood shards poking out of his gloved hands, blood seeping through, running down his wrist. He’s gone too far he can’t deny that.

He glances at you, only to find your eyes wide and mouth opened into a small ‘o’. You’re trembling slightly, and he wants to make you tremble more. Tremble, moan, cry, wants to make you smile, laugh, tend to his wound. He wants it all, he wants none of it, he wants to hug you, he wants to strangle you for saying such things. He needs to teach you a lesson.

“Ka… Kaeya… what the fuck…,” you finally look at him, hands coming up to cover your mouth. He doesn’t respond, doesn’t smile, just stares into the void that is you. “A… are you okay? In the head?”

Perhaps it was second nature by now, but you gently grab his hand, inspecting it like a rare specimen. It feels warm. It feels right.

“I don’t think you want me to answer that… although… I do think we need to come up with a story.” He smiles coldly at you, flexing his hand hard enough to push the wood in deeper. It stings, it hurts, but he needs a grounding or else he might hurt you.

“We…? There is no ‘we’, just ‘you’.” You don’t look at him, but his hand is still in his grasp as you pry it opened. He lets you, only if to remember the vibrant past. “… you need to leave,” you let go and attempt to leave.

His words alone stop you before you could even leave the aisle.

“Are you sure you want to leave before we finish our conversation? Ah, not only not being a virgin would give you a bad look, but to leave an injured man be… it won’t look good on your record.” A choice. Which option would you choose? To leave or to stay?

Both of you know the answer.

“… excuse me?” Ever so slowly, your head turns towards him, eyes narrowed. The hatred in your eyes burn hotter than the sun. “Why in Teyvat would you say that? Threatening me too? You’re really sick in the fucking head.”

“And yet you loved me still.”

Your chest heaves, feet dragging you to him, standing straight right in front of him. You weren’t thinking straight, your breathing was heavy. He’d rather you be that way on his cock, squirming in nothing but pleasure, squealing as he drills into you.

“’Loved’. Past tense, I no longer want anything to do with you. You’re nothing more than a parasite, and I’m tired of being your host.” Your finger jabs at his chest, hard enough to hurt you but not him. You were so weak compared to him.

He could easily turn you around and bend you over, fucking you until you were apologizing all the way to hell. The very place he’ll drag you to the moment you leave or get taken away. Count your lucky stars he’s controlling himself enough not to harm you.

“Oh my, your words are hurting me. Venom is dangerous, you know? Although, I don’t think you’d like to get frost burn. Better calm down before it gets too chilly.” His bloodied hand goes to hold your hand, the one jabbing at him.

“And besides, who do you think they would believe… a training nun who couldn’t keep her chastity until marriage, or the esteemed knight who does his duty to protect the citizens of Monstadt?” His cocky tone does nothing but to infuriate you more.

“You’re not protecting me, Kaeya.”

“Ah, but I am… think of it this way… a random drunkard, who so happened to be on the wanted list was harassing a training nun during her prayers, and the Cavalry Captain stopped him. That sounds better than a nun seducing the Cavalry Captain in the middle of the night, in the holy church, no less.”

You take a step back, but he doesn’t let go of your hand. “That… that wouldn’t explain the damage done to the bench.” The reality of the situation was finally settling in.

“Ah… I suppose that’s right. However, it could be said that the Cavalry Captain had to retrain control. It’s not uncommon to hear of, a man damaging something to keep his lust at bay.”

“That doesn’t make sense, and only serves to make you look bad!” You argue back, shaking your head. He was fucked up.

Kaeya continues, “It may make me look bad… but it’ll make you look worse.”

It was bullshit, it would absolutely make him the villain. Using violence of any type on a woman was horrible in the public eye. But you weren’t thinking straight, fear coursing through your veins like fire. And he’s using it against you.

“… What do you want?”

“Hm? Say that again? I couldn’t hear you.”

You take a breath in. “I said, what do you want? I don’t need you to ruin my life anymore than this.” Your voice cracks, and he can see the tears forming. You’re finally breaking apart. And he loves it.

“First,” He lifts his hand, still holding yours, “Tend to my wound, okay?”

--

With the wound tended to and mood shifted to a sexual tone, Kaeya has once more turned the situation to his liking. He had you bend over, hands holding onto the backseat, ass up, legs spread apart. Your dress was scrunched up to your waist, pure white panties on display for his eyes only. Like how it’s supposed to be.

Such a sinful sight for a ‘holy’ woman. A follower of a God that won’t listen to her prayers. How ironic.

“My, my… how lewd. To think a ‘pure’ nun would spread her legs for me, a lowly Cavalry Knight.” A slap to your ass that brings forth a moan. God, he missed this. The way your body reacts to him, how he studied your body from the late hours to the early rise of the sun. He knows it inside out.

“Shut up…,” your breath hitches when he grabs your hair from the roots and pulls. Your body is reacting in a manner you don’t want it to. You hate yourself for this, for giving in so easily. For not letting go sooner before his obsession and possessiveness of you started to fester.

Kaeya almost feels guilty. But not enough, not when you’re in front of him, bend over the bench like a whore, whimpering as he tugs your hair or delivers a slap to your ass. Your body is more honest than you are. He’s more honest than you are.

Prepare yourself for the years to come.

“Heh… you say you hate me, but your body loves me, right?” He leans forward, draping himself over your body, chest pressed against your back. He wonders if you can feel his heart beating. “Tell me, did you ever miss this?”

His uninjured hand travels down your front, skipping over your breasts and straight to your crotch. You shiver, biting your lip as to keep quiet. You don’t need anyone to hear from the outside, if possible. You just want to get this over with. You can’t get caught doing this here, in the church.

Slowly, his middle finger draws circles around your clothed clit, your legs trembling. You’re starting to get wet, perhaps as means to lessen the pain that might follow. The female anatomy is one he studied well, if only to tease and gloat about it to Diluc, who the Head Maid had scolded about the subject.

“Getting wet now, are we? How adorable.” He laughs, adding more pressure that makes you squeal. So sensitive, so right. He belongs here, with you, and you belong with him, no matter how toxic the relationship.

“Hey, stop – ah!” Head arched back; he loves the way you reach to his touches. You’re wet enough to slip in a finger, enough to feel the burning pleasure only he could provide. Why bother becoming a nun when you become his?

No.

You’ve always been his, be it in life or death. He’ll never let go, he can’t dare to part with his beloved pet. A pet that used to whine for attention, a pet that now growls and barks at it’s owner. Even bit him. But that’s okay. He just needs to train you some more.

And that training starts now.

“Stop? But why; your pretty little cunt is taking my finger so easily. Almost like you were waiting for this. Tell me, do you think about me when you touch yourself?” His teeth tease your earlobe, breath fanning the shell. You’re driving him crazy, your scent, your body, your scent. He’s going to drown the both of you.

“W-what? Nuns don’t… nuns don’t touch themselves…,” you breathe out, eyes closing once he starts to curl his finger. It’s sloppy inside, like it should be. Wet and soft, he can’t wait to do bareback.

“Nuns shouldn’t participate in the act of sex itself, yet here you are… and, if I recall, they are to ‘Marry God’. Or something along those lines, right? Give all your love to the Gods, the Archons, yet here you are, loving me with all of your body.”

“You blacked mailed me. Coerced me.” Same meaning, different words, no need to say them. You should be saying his name instead, like you used to. Yet, you’re not, barking at him still. What shall he do with you?

“I didn’t force you to do anything. I gave you a choice – you chose this option.” His finger thrusts in and out, in and out, you have a hard time thinking. Should you think? Should you give in to the pleasure?

Your mind says yes, your body says no.

“There, there, it’ll be fine. Just let me take care of everything, okay?” You don’t say anything, not even when he adds a second finger, curling them just right, making you squeal. Your reactions are cute, from the way you’re biting your lip to hide your moans, to the way your hips softly rock into his hand.

“Since you’re here, doing this, why don’t you just give in, hm? Might as well enjoy the ride… I know I am.” Kaeya grinds against your ass, erection straining against his (complicated. Breaking the 4th wall here cuz im going to forget otherwise, but like… does anyone know how his pants work???)pants.

Huffing, you shake your head, only to dip it when he increases his pace. A third finger and you’re fully rocking your hips into his hand, rubbing your ass against his erection. The heel of his palm rubs against your clit, head thrown back before there’s a silent scream, so close yet so far –

The whine that you let out once he takes his fingers away is unexpected. For you and him, if you smacking your forehead against the backrest of the seat is an indicator of anything. A pleasant surprise for him, an embarrassing and horrible mistake on your end. No matter, he’s sure of it.

You’re going to beg for him. You have to, unless you want to walk home in soaking wet panties.

Pride be damned, he’s going to tear down that wall you built around himself.

“Oh? Sweetheart, if you wanted more, all you had to do was ask.” His fingers trace your slit, gathering up your juices. It goes up, fingers gently going in your mouth. You can taste yourself. And you hate it, surely.

You hate him for getting under your skin and into your pants once more.

“Just say ‘please’, and I’m all yours. Oh, and of course, this’ll be kept a secret, unless it’s dire information they’ll need. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure to convince them to keep you, if you really want to stay here.” You decided to play with fire the moment you laid your eyes on Kaeya Alberich.

“I… I shouldn’t, you should leave, this is fucked up –“

“But it feels so right, doesn’t it? You can still love your God with your heart even if you love me with your body… although, I’m not sure if you’ll ever be considered a nun in his eyes.” He tries his best not to laugh, not to insult you further. Because, as of right now, you’re insulting yourself.

“I… I don’t know… why are you doing this? Are you really that lonely?” Your legs shake, your voice is low, you don’t crane your neck to look at him. This was horrible, and truthfully, you weren’t sure if you wanted it or not. You can say no, right?

It’s Kaeya, right?

“Hm… maybe, maybe not. But were you that lonely to choose a husk of a man?” He hums, lips kissing your throat. He admits it, just once, that he was rather lonely. But you were also lonely, you had to be, to go after him day and night. You should have let go before it was too late. Before he latched on like a leach unknowingly, sucking you dry.

The cycle was unbreakable.

You give in, be it from fear or lust, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t care – in the end, you were the one who gave him the green light. You said yes, and because you said yes, he’s going to fuck you dumb on his cock. He might die if he doesn’t, so you have to endure it. Like you used to.

---

The sounds in the church were sinful. Panting, squealing, moans, slaps of skin – it was all sinful. His hips met yours, your pussy sucking every inch of him in. It feels right, this should, needs to become the norm from now on. It doesn’t matter if you’re a nun. What matters is that you’re his.

“Ah, ah, ah! Fuck, fuck!” You don’t ask him to go faster, don’t ask him to go harder. You just let your moans out for the church to hear, like a choir. You sing him paise with each note you hit, mouth open. Kaeya takes a hand to turn your head towards him just a bit, going in for an open mouthed kiss.

There’s saliva everywhere, tongues dance as his thrusts send you forward. So close, he’s so close to having you completely. You’re so wet, so soft, and he swears he won’t do this with anyone but you – and the same goes for you, it has to. Otherwise, blood will be drawn, and a cage made. You don’t want that, do you?

“Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” You don’t respond, can’t with his tongue back in your mouth, silently begging for a breather. He doesn’t grant you that freedom, fingers circling your clit like a man gone mad. And, perhaps you did drive him mad. And he’s going to drive you mad, as mad as he.

“Mmh, fuck, can’t – ah – cum – “your hands grip the backrest like it’s your savior. Blunt nails digging into the wood, unable to form sentences. How long have you been at this? An hour? How many orgasms has he given you, showing you only he could do this?

Two, three?

This would be the fourth one, if that’s the case.

“Ah? Cum? Do you want to cum?” Kaeya laughs when all you do is nod your head, driven by lust by the devil himself. He gives it to, if only to drive the point home. He’s close himself, once again, so maybe he should pull out again –

An idea hits him.

He could get you pregnant. He could say it was an accident, that he did pull out but maybe it wasn’t on time. He could use a child against you, as much as he doesn’t want to use such innocence in the name of evil. He’s not sure if he’ll even be a decent father.

But he’ll try for you, promise.

For them.

Three fingers in your mouth, and he’s drilling his cock into you like a lifeline. One thrust, two thrusts, and on the fifth you’re finishing together, fingers rubbing at your clit like there’s no tomorrow. You shouldn’t have said yes, if you weren’t at least a little mentally prepare for the possibility of having a child.

Breathing is hard, heavy. Sweat clings to your bodies like a second skin melting off. You’re both spent, and –

“Don’t worry, if anything were to become of this, I’ll take care of it. Even with the church.”

 ==

A/N: *1 – I kinda did research and it looks like you have to be a virgin to become a nun. Now, I could be completely wrong, and I apologize for that.

*2- one of my favorite lines I have ever written ngl.

Thank you for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated !

[ssuperficialspacecadett]

Escrito en las Estrellas (Written in the Stars)

Chapter Six of the Through the Scope series | Chapter Seven

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4.6K

Chapter Overview: You celebrate your first month working at Brass Knuckles

TW: t*m in the gif (i hate this mf and i dont care who knows)

Notes: okay so this chapter is what started me on my 'through the scope' journey ! i was driving back home to visit family and the phrase "it's written in the stars" just came to me so naturally i had to write an entire Frankie fan fic just so i could birth this one scene (i had no other choice obviously). this chapter was originally twice its length, but i cut it in half so i could make two chapters out of it hehe. i updated the tag list so please let me know if i missed you !! as usual ... my asks are always open & happy reading <3

*no use of y/n & female presenting reader*

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“So you two really haven’t hooked up yet? Not even a small kiss? You’re killing me right now. It’s been a month!” 

You’re on the phone with Robbie this evening to keep you company while you fold laundry. When she says that you have already been in Florida for a month, you feel shocked. Has it really been that long already? You count up the weeks in your head and today, Monday, marks the start of your fourth week here. Four weeks of watching your dad get stronger, four weeks of working at Brass Knuckles, and four weeks of crushing on Frankie. 

“I told you we haven’t done anything, Robbie! But fuck if I don’t want to. The only thing is that I think he’s in a weird place with his girlfriend right now. Or maybe she’s his ex-girlfriend that he’s sort of talking to again? Ugh! I don’t even know!”

You give up on folding, you are doing a terrible job at it anyway, and flop yourself down, stomach first, on your bed. 

“Why don’t you ask Benny about it then? Maybe he can give you some clarity?”

“For someone that’s so smart, you are so dumb.”

“Excuse me?” Her tone is playful, but still laced with warning.

“Look, I can’t just ask Benny about Frankie’s love life. It would be a dead give away that I like him and it just seems like…it just seems like an invasion of privacy.”

“You’re just stalling, you fucking baby. They are your friends right? Benny and Frankie?”

“Well, yeah? I would say so.” You’re not following where she's going.

“Then you should be able to ask them about what’s going on in their lives. That includes their love lives. We ask each other all the time!”

God you hate it when her logic makes sense.

“Okay! Okay. I’ll ask Benny about it at work this week then. Would that make you happy?” 

“No, that would make me content. What would make me happy is if yall finally fuc-”

“Woah!” You cut her off with a laugh. “Don’t you have some studying to do, miss. lawyer?” 

“I resent you for changing the subject right when we were getting somewhere, but yes I do. Call me when you grow a pair and ask?” 

“Trust me, Robbie. You’ll be the first to know.”

You laugh to yourself as you toss your phone on your bed and roll over onto your back. You would be lying to yourself if you said that you wouldn’t be happy if you and Frankie finally hooked up either. Since you have been here, you have gotten a small feeling that he might like you back. First there was him observing you when you two first met while his friends talked around him. Then there was him inviting you out with the guys for fight night. After that was him not shying away when you gave him the note with your number and a heart. Y’all shared a beer together, he dropped everything to help you with your car, and proceeded to spend the majority of the day with you eating and shopping. Did he almost kiss you in your apartment that morning or had you just romanticized his gentlemanliness? There had to be something there right? Right? 

But there was Rochelle. The woman who came before you. The woman who was first in line. While she was bad news according to Benny, you still felt hesitant about stepping on anyone's toes. You wouldn’t want that done to you. And yet you found your mind exploring the possibilities of what y’all could be to each other. Acquaintances? Friends? Something more?

***

It’s Benny’s turn to buy lunch today and he pulls through with Chick-fil-a. The conversation is natural while the two of you eat. Each of you take turns spitballing ideas on how to make the gym stand out more, if they should start selling food during fight night, if you will be a ring girl.

“When pig’s fly, Benjamin Miller. That’s when I’ll be your ring girl.”

The conversation slowly shifts into a more personal one. He talks about how he and the other guys love going to the beach together, but their schedules haven’t allowed it in a while. How all the ladies there can’t get enough of ‘old Brass Knuckles’. You share about how you and Robbie love walking around in downtown Austin, Texas and hunting for the best coffee, or food, or book stores. 

“The beaches back home weren’t really the best.” You confess.

“You should come with us then! Maybe we can all plan somethin’!”

“Yeah.” You say wistfully. “Robbie is coming down in March when her school lets out for spring break. What about then?” 

“Sounds fuckin’ awesome to me!”

Your tongue burns with the question you have about Frankie. It’s Thursday, which unfortunately means, it has taken you most of the week to gain the courage to bring it up. In your defense you had tried earlier, but it just never seemed like the right time. It would be weird to casually bring that topic up at random, but now that friends are being discussed…

“I’ve got a question.”

“I’ve got an answer.” He takes a sip of his drink. “Shoot.”

“I was just wondering how Frankie and Rochelle were doing. I noticed that he has seemed happier lately. Maybe they worked things out?”

He sets his cup down and looks at you quizzically. You get a nervous feeling that he’s onto you.

“Now that you mention it, he does seem happier, doesn’t he? Which isn’t anythin’ to take lightly. Especially for a guy like Fish. But to be completely honest with you, he doesn’t talk about her much around us.”

“Wait really? Y’all don’t talk about who y’all are dating?” Now your nervousness has started to make you sweat. 

“It’s not that at all. It’s just,” He rubs his forehead with his hand. “It’s just different when it’s Rochelle. I told you that she doesn’t belong in his life and I still stand by that. Do you remember when I mentioned that we were a fucked up bunch?”

You nod your head at him.

“Well, it’s not my place to get into all of Fish’s business, but she played a pretty big part in that for him. It took me, the guys, and the strength of whatever higher bein’ is out there to pry him from her grip. He knows we don’t like her much. I think that's why he keeps most of it to himself.”

“Oh.” Now you feel stupid for asking. There is clearly more going in that relationship than you previously thought.

“But, he would have told us if they were officially back together. That I know for a fact.”

You’re content with his answer. At least now you know that you aren’t being a homewrecker. Surely a little more innocent flirting wouldn't hurt. Well it might hurt if he doesn’t see you that way.

“So that’s the only reason you asked?”

You stop, a french fry in hand, and cock your head at your coworker. “What?”

“Don’t play around.” He snatches the fry from you. “What’s the real reason you want to know what’s going on with Fish?”

In this very moment you make an elaborate mental scheme of how to murder Robbie and get away with it when she comes down to visit you. 

“I was just curious.” You shrug.

“God, you’re such a fuckin’ liar!”

“I am not!”

“You got a thing for him, don’t you?!”

“I-I…well I-”

“I knew it! You like Fish!” He looks as happy as a kid on Christmas morning.

“Fine.” You can’t help but laugh at your friend's glee. “I like Frankie. I think he’s great.” 

“Hey, I’m just glad it didn’t turn out to be Pope. That man needs to be humbled every now and then.” 

The two of you burst into a fit of laughter together at the front desk. The people currently working out probably think y’all need to be admitted into the loony bin. It felt nice to finally tell someone here. Granted, Benny is Frankie’s friend, but now he’s yours too.

“Please,” You pant. “Please promise me that you won't say anything to him, Benny.”

“I promise I won’t say anything to him.” A cheeky grin splays across his face.

“I don’t think I like the way you said that.”

“Then don’t think about it. I said that I wouldn’t say anything about it, so I won’t.” He holds up one of his hands. “Scouts honor.” 

You breathe a sigh of relief as he cleans up the remains of lunch and walks over to the trash bin.

“I didn’t say that I wouldn’t do anything about it though!”

He takes off running as his words register in your brain. You stand and yell after him as he vanishes into his office. 

“Benny I’m going to kick your ass!”

The door’s bell must have gone off in the commotion because when you turn around to face the front of the lobby a very bewildered woman is looking directly at you. 

“Oh! Sorry about that! Welcome to Brass Knuckles! How can I help you today?”

***

Operation Catch-A-Fish Chat

Benny: It’s on boys! It’s fuckin’ on!

Will: Damn that was quicker than I thought.

Pope: Did she say something?!

Benny: She told me that she liked him while we were having lunch. Let's get this operation cookin’!

Will: I’ll be damned.

Pope: Told you we wouldn’t be pimping her out, Will.

***

Frankie lays on his back and watches the fan blades spin above him. The room is still stuffy as the hot air inside is only being pushed around. It makes him ache to be in a helicopter again. To feel the bone chilling air right as he climbs into the cockpit before a mission. He never felt cramped when he was in the air. Not like he does now on the ground.

He tries to pick a singular blade and count how many times it can circle the base of the fan in a minute, but he keeps getting distracted. You keep distracting him. He never manages to make it past 15 before you pop into his mind. Your melodic laugh, the way you furrow your eyebrows when you think, how it took you 30 minutes to pick one item off the menu at breakfast. He wonders how you’re spending your Thursday night. Guilt creeps in when he realizes how deeply you consume his thoughts. Although he doesn’t know if that guilt stems from the fact that he’s thinking of you while he lies next to Rochelle in her bed or because he didn’t feel guilty at all until he remembered she was there in the first place. What he does know is that he wouldn’t feel as cramped and lonely as he does right now if you were with him. You could have your limbs wrapped around him as tight as could be and he would still beg you to squeeze harder. 

He turns his attention to the woman laying next to him when she breathes out deeply. She looks so much different in sleep. Her harsh features have softened. Her brows are relaxed and her lips aren’t contorted into a perpetual scowl. She looks, he thinks, kind. As if she is completely incapable of being the person that has wreaked so much havoc and heartache onto his life. She looks like someone who would want to be held as she slept. Someone who would want their lover to pull them in close and whisper sweet nothings in their ear that would be kept secret by the darkness of the night. Unfortunately, that wasn’t who she was. Rochelle never wanted Frankie to be affectionate with her unless she initiated it or when they were going to have sex. Even then she would groan in annoyance when he took too long kissing or going down on her. 

“Just fuck me already.” 

Although he would never admit it, he craved that intimacy. That closeness with his partner. He loved having his hands constantly on the woman he was with. It kept him calm knowing that she was close to him. He noticed that he also had less nightmares on the rare occasions Rochelle would allow him to hold her while they slept. She stirs slightly and rolls over so her back is facing him. 

“God, what the fuck am I even doing here?” He whispers up to the fan blades. 

He hated himself for winding up back in her bed. They haven’t officially gotten back together, but this is how it always started. She would slither back into his life and he would trip over her and fall right into her trap. It made him even angrier than he knew how she worked and he still wound up here. Yet, it’s so easy to slip into a routine you already know no matter how toxic it may be. The ball is still technically in his court. He still hasn’t given her an answer about the status of their relationship. He hasn’t completely sunk beneath the waves yet. He needs to remind himself that history doesn’t equate to longevity. He wants quality over quantity now. 

The dinging of his phone pulls him from his thoughts. It’s a message from Benny in their group chat.

Benny: Sorry for the late message, but I’ve been doing some thinkin’. Since our girl has been here for a month I think we should celebrate. I know she wouldn’t want anything over the top, so maybe The Barrel this Saturday? Y’all down for that?

Pope: It’s about damn time she came out with us. I think I’m free then too.

Will: Benny, I’m literally awake in the next room. You could have just come and told me about your plan. 

Benny: Text is easier. I don’t have to get out of bed this way. 

Will: She definitely deserves more than a few rounds since she has had to deal with you for a month straight. I’m surprised you haven’t scared her off. 

Pope: Same here. I would have run for the hills by now if I were her.

Frankie: Yeah I’m down too. Will and Pope can carpool with me and we can meet y’all after closing time.

Benny: Sounds good! See y’all then!

“Who was that, baby?” A sleep riddled voice asks behind his shoulder.

He feels his body recoil at the pet name. A pet name he once had to beg her to call him. Something to make him believe that what they had was good and sweet. How could something he longed for sound like nails on a chalkboard now?

“Just the guys. Go back to bed, Rochelle.”

Frankie falls asleep wondering if he will get the privilege of sitting next to you at the bar.

***

“I already said that I would come tonight, Benny! You didn’t have to keep asking every hour of the day.”

If you were being honest it was getting on your nerves. He told you last night that you absolutely, without a doubt, had to come to The Barrel on Saturday after work. You knew that you had been pushing it off so you conceded. You just wished Benny would get that through his thick skull. Although, having someone that invested in you is foreign so you put your annoyance out of your mind and focus on the good.

“I know. I know. I just want to make sure everything goes perfect. You told your dad that you wouldn’t be comin’ tonight?”

“Yes! I did everything you asked! I don’t know why you’re so worked up. We are just going across the street to get a drink after work.”

“I just want to make sure.”

“Aww!” You pinch his cheek as he waits with you in the laundry room. “Does Benny have a crush on me?”

“You wish you could get in on all this!” He flexes his left arm and blows a kiss at you with his right.

“Fuck off!” You shove him out of the room. “If you want to go get a drink you better leave me alone so I can put this load in the dryer. Long gone are the days of leaving wet towels to sit overnight at Brass Knuckles.” 

“That’s why I love ya’!” He pokes his head back and kisses your cheek. A lovely juxtaposition to what you just did to him. “I’ll head over there and get us a table. Meet me there after you lock up?”

“If you’re lucky, Miller.”

Shortly after Benny bounds gleefully out of the gym, the washer announces that it’s finished. You hum to yourself as you toss the damp towels into the dryer and press start. It’s all a breeze from there. You collect your things from the desk, turn off the building's lights, and lock the front door. That’s funny you think my bag feels lighter than usual.

The night air is hot, but not uncomfortably so, as you walk across the street to The Barrel. The soft glow from the sign acts as your north star. You can hear how packed it is even before you swing the door open. How are you going to find Benny through all these people? Your eyes survey the room as you make your way through the crowd. A hand shoots up in the back and starts waving frantically at you. As you slip through more people you finally reach the clearing. It was all of them. All of the guys were waiting for you at a quaint table in the back. 

“Happy one month!” They say in unison and raise their glasses.

“Oh my-” 

You’re so starstruck that you can’t speak. They all beam as you make your way to the table and to the only empty chair. The one that sandwiches you right in between Pope and Frankie. 

“Is this seat taken?” 

“It is now.” The man with soft curls responds warmly. 

“Are you surprised?! Did we get you?!” Benny can hardly sit still in his chair.

“Yes,” Your cheeks are going to be sore from smiling in the morning. “Y’all got me good. I can’t believe y’all remembered.” 

“Of course we did, hon.” Will’s voice acts as a beacon of calmness in the bar’s chaos. “The gym was close to burnin' down before you showed up and saved it. Brightened our lives in the process whether you know it or not too.” 

“Will…” Tears threaten to trickle down your face. 

“It was not!” Benny bites back at his brother. “But, I am happy you called about my ad.” 

“Cheers to you, hermosa!” Pope slides a bottle over to you. “Welcome to the group.”

As you raise your glass to clink with all of theirs, you look at each and every one of them. The genuine care they all have for you sprinkles your skin like a light summer shower. The kind of rain where it’s so soft that you don’t even realize you’re soaked to the bone until you reach your destination. It just kinda sneaks up on you. That’s exactly what they did and you couldn’t have been more grateful. 

“Okay I need y’all to indulge me for a few minutes.” It’s somehow already 1:00 in the morning and you’ve lost count of how much you have had to drink. “I’ve been trying to figure out what each of y’all’s individual signs are and I think I finally cracked it.” 

“Like our call signs?” Frankie’s shoulder presses up against yours when he leans into talk. You hope he doesn’t catch the way your breath hitches. 

“You mean y’alls call signs. I still haven’t gotten mine.” 

“You’re always going to be Brass Knuckles to me, Benny.” You offer to the man across from you. “But no, not y’alls call signs, I already know those. I mean your star signs.” 

“Oh, shit! I was hooking up with a girl once that was really into all that mumbo jumbo!” Pope sounds even more excited than you do. “I already know these carbrons don’t know what they are. Google y’all’s birthdays and find out what it is.”

Once each of them confirms that they know, you crack your knuckles and pray that you have guessed correctly. 

“I’ll start with you, Santi.” Maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it's because you truly feel like his friend that you use his first name. “I think you’re a libra because you’re charismatic, you’re tactful-”

“You better stop before I fall in love with you.” He taunts.

“And you’re a whore.” The entire table erupts into boisterous laughter. “I didn’t need the stars to tell me that though.” 

Next you move your blurry vision to Will. 

“I think you’re a cancer. You’re someone who cares deeply about the people that are close to you. You always want to know how others are feeling, but ironically, you tend to keep your own emotions locked away. You think you will be a burden if you share them, but you won’t, I promise.” 

“You hired a witch to work for you, Benny.” He brings his drink to his lips, but his eyes stay playfully trained on you. 

“Do me next! Do me!” 

“Alright, Benny. I think you’re a sagittarius. You have an enthusiastic love for life and adventure alike. You always lift the mood of the room when you walk into it. The life of the party if you will.”

“Freaky.” He whispers to himself. 

You turn your attention to the man you have been most excited to talk about. “And last, but certainly not least: Frankie.” You are too drunk to notice the hush that has fallen over the group as you rest your hand on his shoulder. “I think you’re a taurus. You’re very hard working, a loyal and faithful friend, and you love physical affection.” 

 It takes Benny choking on his beer at your last comment to shake you from your trance. You slide your hand off Frankie's shoulder and turn back to the group.

“So…was I right?” Everyone is looking at you with wide eyes and open jaws. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

Benny spends the next few minutes drunkenly pleading with you to tell him more about himself and his future.

“I’m not an oracle, you know. I just observe people and their actions and try to figure them out.” 

“Well,” Pope arrives back at the table with the last round of the night. “Tell us what you have observed about Fish.” 

“No, you don’t have to do that.” Frankie says shyly.

The alcohol in your bloodstream has made you more confident. “I want to.”

“Let the woman work, man.” Pope slides him a beer. 

“You tend to be the glue of the friend group. A man with a hard exterior, yet a soft interior. While you'd never say it outloud, you enjoy taking care of people. You find it gratifying and it gives you a sense of purpose.” You have to stop to get your bearings for a second and acknowledge that maybe you shouldn’t have had that last drink. “Maybe that’s because you served or maybe that's just in your nature. I haven’t figured that out yet, but I’m working on it.”

Frankie hides his face with the bill of his hat, but everyone knows he's smiling under there. 

Pope reaches behind you and claps his friend on the back. “Está escrito en las estrellas, hermano.”

As the bartender announces the last call, your group takes that as the cue to head home. Benny is more trashed than anyone realizes so Will says he will take him back home. He wrangles Benny’s keys away from him so he can use his car to drive them both. You were in no state to drive either and were too far gone to feel any embarrassment as the two men left point that out. With Pope grabbing your tote bag and Frankie grabbing your hand, the three of you walk to his truck.

“Come on,” Frankie helps you into the passenger seat while a very annoyed Pope gets into the backseat. “I’ll take you home.” 

You can only mumble out a small ‘mmm’ to him because your body has become heavy with sleep. He takes it upon himself to gently buckle you into your seat. As he leans over to click it into place he gets a whiff of your perfume. It’s more muted now since the day is over, but it’s still just as potent to him as the second you put it on this morning. After he finishes, he hops down and closes the passenger door. 

“He’s so nice to me.” You whisper to Pope in the backseat before you drift off.

“You have no idea. I just hope you remember when you wake up.” 

Frankie climbs into his seat and cranks up the car. Both men opt to listen to the quiet sounds of the tires on the road instead of the radio for fear that it will wake you up. He pulls into your apartment complex and parks as gently as he can. 

“Grab her keys from her bag, would you?” Frankie asks. He keeps his eyes on you while Pope looks. You look just as sweet in sleep as you do awake, he thinks. You really were as lovely as he thought you were. 

“Uhhh, Catfish?” 

“What?” 

“She only has keys for the gym in here. I can’t find her apartment keys.” He hears Pope laugh dryly in the back seat. “I couldn’t have planned something more perfect if I tried.” 

“What are you going on about?”

“The way I see it you have two choices. Choice one is to wake her up and ask her where her keys are.”

“I’m not going to wake her up, Pope. Mirar, solo mírala.”

“Choice two is to let her crash at your place tonight.”

They both look at you, sound asleep and ignorant about the current situation. 

“I don’t know, man.” Frankie looks over his shoulder at his friend. “I don’t want her to wake up and think I kidnapped her or something. Won’t that be scary for her to wake up in a place that she has never been before?”

“It beats the hell out of waking up in the morning outside of her own front door.” 

He knows his friend is right, but he’s still hesitant as to how you will react when you wake up. Reluctantly, he puts his truck in reverse and heads for Pope’s house. 

***

Unlocking his front door while he has you in his arms bridal style proves a lot more difficult than he originally anticipated. Yet, he would do it a million times over if it meant that he got to hold you this close. When he finally gets inside he closes the door with his foot and heads straight for his bedroom. There was no question about it, he was going to sleep on the couch and you were going to get his bed. He walks into his room and leaves the door open so the hallway light can spill inside. Thankfully he didn’t make his bed this morning so the covers were already pulled back enough. He sets you down on the mattress like you were made of glass; one wrong move by him and you would shatter into a million pieces. A small cry escapes you when his body is no longer touching yours. He wants to capture that sound and keep it locked away in his heart. Before he tucks you in, he carefully unties your shoes and sets them down beside the nightstand so you will see them in the morning. He brings the covers up so that they rest just below your chin. Despite his initial hesitation to bring you back home with him, he can’t help but feel that you look perfectly in place in his bed. He kneels down next to you and tucks a rogue strand of hair back behind your ear. You unconsciously lean into his touch, seeking the warmth he provides. His lips find a home on your forehead and he whispers to you before he gets up to leave. 

“Sweet dreams…mi estrella.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

{tag list: @cutesyscreenname @rsquared31 @smol-beb @bitchwitch1981 @avastrasposts @hoeslingz @saltybutteredtoast @javicstories @c-justhere @pimosworld @modernperplexity @beboldbebravethings @mxtokko  @moonliqhtszn @tanzthompson @megcads @myloveistoolittle @casa-boiardi @jitterbugs927 @partyofone3413 @pedrit0-pascalit0 @golden-library @pati-et-vivere @pedro-pedrito-pascalito }

[pngjamie]

as long as it's fictional or semi-fictional characers and tagged properly, i don't think there should be any problem with proshippers. don't you think this moral-policing is totally backwords /gen ? the internet was, is, and will be wild, and it's not like anyone shipped is getting hurt because, again, they're fictional (case differs for nonfictional characters)

Im not worried about fictional characters? i know theyre not real even if its gross to be desensitized like that, im talking about real people and the the real affects ive firsthand seen for years that people in vulnerable mental states or younger kids get from having incest, pedophilia and abuse normalized to them. Again not just normalized but romanticized and fetishized. I dont specifically get what you mean by "the internet is and will be wild" though I will readily say I generally agree, however that doesn't mean im gonna become complacent with the normalization + desensitization of shit like proshipping??? Obviously im just some guy I cant change the internet, but I will always do my best to educate and help police the communities im in and the community made by my works. If things were completely hidden incredibly hard to find and constantly had "its bad, this is fiction, its dangerous" and that was a HEAVY Forefront emphasis I'd maybe let up a little if not for the remaining desensitization and normalization of literal abuse, pedophilia and incest but again that's not what I ever see. Let alone why this conversation started to begin with its people going "idc, these characters are cute<3" and not disclaiming or clarifying anywhere that proshipping is incredibly wrong. I dont mind being questioned if never explained to you/others before but to you and any others, continuing to ask "okay but its not real so who cares it doesnt affect anyone" is just, ignoring my points. If you truly genuinely see no wrong in it and youre here to make your point clear, not to challenge your thinking, then disrespectfully get off my page and block me. I am making it clear now and will always make it clear, I am not changing my mind on this. I have seen the effect normalization of proshipping has on people and its revolting and traumatizing to see. Ive in the past debated with myself to make sure i felt confident on having such a strong opinion and ive had my mind settled SINCE then and its not changing.

[olderthannetfic]

I do think the disclaimers from authors about NOT ENDORSING!!!! certain behaviors in fics is pretty funny, but I’ll admit I do it too. Oddly I only put warnings for abuse of the self, not the abuse of others. I write a fair bit of fic that “romanticizes” (or seems like it does) suicide/self harm/eating disorders to the point where it can almost be a tutorial of how to do it if I’m graphic enough. So in those I normally just add dead dove tags and put a disclaimer about how the trigger warning is no joke and you shouldn’t do the things that the characters do in the fic. It’s not like a Lifetime Movie end credits where the authors note is filled with hotlines and stuff, just a quick little note that, hey, yeah, if you’re considering this, don’t do it.

Oddly, I don’t think that behavior comes from fandom itself but rather from a completely different corner of the internet — when I struggled with the same stuff that I write about, it was pretty common for everyone’s bio to say that they ���don’t promote” or they’re “not pro” and I guess old habits die hard. (Whether or not certain types of depression/SH/ana blogs etc really DONT promote or those words are just a please-don’t-ban-me card is a completely different discussion.)

It’s pretty ironic actually because when I’m on the other side of things (as the reader), reading about it is really cathartic in fic, but triggering (not in a fun way) in “real” books. Like there’s several books I had to DNF or shelf because it got to be too much, but oddly enough fic actually helps me a lot.

WOW that was all way heavier than I intended to get when I first started typing this ask! But yeah, that’s my own personal relationship to “I do not endorse” and I didn’t realize how odd it actually is until I started reading some of these other asks! I don’t think any type of “this is bad, actually” authors note is ever necessary honestly, but I also don’t think they’re that big of a deal — if a note from the writer about how they’re ~totally against the “bad” thing they’re writing about~ really takes you out of the fic that much, I don’t understand that either…it’d be one thing if they rambled on and on but even then I don’t think it’s that big of a deal 🤣 Annoying maybe but no one is required to read the AN.

My general threshold is “would a movie/podcast/real™️ book have a similar Viewer Discretion Adviced notice? If so, your A/N is likely fine and not virtual signal-ly or OTT at all.”

--

Heh. I think you're assuming a very different type of PSA from what other people are.

From what I've read, self-harm, suicide, and disordered eating are some of the topics that are a bit Monkey See, Monkey Do. Even support group discussions may increase the desire to cut, for example. It's still not 1:1, and we should be able to make art about serious topics, but a PSA doesn't feel totally absurd here. There are plenty of scientific studies showing measurable increases in people hurting themselves IRL after consuming certain material. Even if you did include a hotline, most people's objection is like "That number isn't valid for where I live", not "No one should ever do this".

I think if you polled people, you'd find that many of the PSA-haters are actually totally fine with "Hey, this fic contains serious depictions of mental illness. Make sure you're up for that today." and similar warnings.

But what people are actually talking about in 99% of "PSAs suck" discussions is rape fantasies.

Some clown writes a fic that is blatant fap material for people who like bodice ripper ravishment, and then they plaster it with "Rape Fantasies Bad" commentary that shows that they're judging themselves and their readers in a puritanical way that's a mega-buzzkill, completely out of keeping with the tone of the fic, and completely out of keeping with the actual scientific evidence.

Rape fantasies are commonplace and not a big deal, and to the extent that any depictions are demonstrably harmful, it's things like mainstream Hollywood movies reinforcing very standard cultural narratives, not somebody's sex pollen fic that's probably full of "It's so wrong, so why is it so hot???" anyway.

[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:

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