#now there's a ficlet

[paigemathews]

When three planets burn as one over a sky of dancing light, Magic will rest on a holy day to welcome a twice blessed child. 

I'm never not fascinated by Wyatt Halliwell and the prophecy surrounding him. But let's investigate the second half, shall we?

Magic will rest on a holy day to welcome a twice blessed child

Magic itself, good and evil, completely ceases. What power has done this before? The closest that I can think of is the Hollow, but that consumes magic. This is magic itself pausing just to welcome Wyatt's arrival. This has never happened before, nor do we get any indication that it'll happen again. And while there's a lot that you could do with this, this post specifically is going to be a theory for an AU, similar to that post about the impact being conceived on the ghostly plane had on Chris. This does goes significantly more hardcore on powers, however, because, well. It's Wyatt.

What if Wyatt wields control over magic itself? Magic rests to prepare to be wielded be a child, which is why everyone is so desperate to either stop him from being born or be able to wield him as a weapon. (And, of course, no one wants to tell the sisters about any of this.)

And none of the Halliwells really know about it. Because evil has no intention of empowering the sisters with that knowledge and the last thing that the Elders need the sisters to know is that the baby can control literally all of their magic.

With Wyatt being how he is, and the tentative settling of the Underworld post-finale, it's not like they'd stumble across it very easily. And Wyatt is so hesitant when it comes to using his powers, struggles to deal with the power that he thinks he has without knowing how much stronger he truly is.

And his spells and potions are so much stronger than everyone else's, even his mother's. They don't always go the way that he wants them to, but everyone quickly learns that if Wyatt casts a spell or brews a potion, it'll do something big. Which is great for demon vanquishes, not so much for hangover cures.

Still though, no one realizes this. Until, until, until... well, what could possibly drive Wyatt to a point that he realizes?

May I offer a possibility? (that also inspired this.)

Wyatt, under a demon's control - and have you seen a dog in a cage with the door pushed to but unlocked? how they think themselves trapped, despite all it takes is a push to be free? - and turned against his family. And soon enough, even the Elders drop in, lightning at their fingertips, because an out of control Twice-Blessed isn't a threat. It's the apocalypse waiting to happen -

And the unchanged future, a world that a haunted-eyed brunette witchlighter came back to change but never breathed a word of his brother's real power for fear of what everyone'd do (of what the giggling baby would do if he perceived him as a threat). What it must be like to feel your magic, an element of your essence, something that travels with you throughout lifetimes, a part of your soul, be twisted out from underneath your grip in the midst of a battle? To look up to see a malevolent smile across the battle field as your powers slowly falter and fail before turning against you? What witch could possibly remain?

- and the Elders cannot risk it, no matter how useful the asset. But Warrens are loyal beyond the bone, to the very soul, and not willing to let the Elders destroy one of their own because they're a threat (aren't they all threats, anyways?) (and none notice the moment of hesitation that Piper and Phoebe have, a single look and memory of five strangers vs. one sister, except for Paige, who doesn't know that lesson (who would've never learned it) but says with ferocity that they're the Charmed Ones and they're bringing him home.)

And they initially think to reason with them, until it's too late and they realize that it's a trick after Wyatt, eyes hazy and unfocused, is surrounded. Chris and Melinda, the only two left in the circle trying to convince Wyatt to break free, deflect attacks for as long as they can until even they go down, not prepared to fight a battle on two fronts. And it's a pity to lose them with Wyatt, but two witches aren't worth the risk to the world, so they don't stop, even as Piper is screaming and the two realize what's about to happen.

But here's the trick: Wyatt is a Halliwell and an older brother. They'd never do it, but here's the trick: he'd drop anything the moment they call for him. Here's the trick: there is no trick but loyalty and family and devotion stamped across his heart and soul and magic that hears his brother and sister scream for him and acts.

Lighting arches towards them on all sides, towards two injured and desperate witches and Magic himself. The moment before it hits, the lightning hits a shield, glowing and sparking with electricity.

Chris and Melinda, wrapped around each other in a futile attempt to get the other out alive, look up to see their brother, eyes glowing neon blue and murderous, standing over them. When he drops his hands, every sign of magic from every being in the room - bar one - dissipates like it was never there.

His voice couldn't be more than a whisper but is heard by every being inside.

"Touch them, and I'll destroy you."

[runraerun]

Steddie Amnesia Fic: 1/3

-> Part 2 | Part 3 | AO3

cw: lots of head trauma/brain injury/recovery stuff.

Steve wakes up in the hospital with someone snoring loudly on his leg, mouth open, drool getting soaked up into the scratchy hospital blanket over him.

Steve just stares.

It’s… Freddie? No, that’s not right... Eddie! Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson, known delinquent and drug dealer… resting his head on Steve’s lap.

What the hell…?

Steve reaches up with a wobbly, IV-ridden hand to clumsily pat along his head, but instead of meeting messy hair, he meets a thick wad of bandages. He flinches when he hits an especially tender spot.

It’s not much but it’s enough to wake Eddie Munson up with a jolt, and a random jumble of words that sounded something like, “the dice have spoken!”, but Steve can’t be sure. Not with the sharp ringing still going off inside his skull.

“Steve? Steve! Oh thank fuck, Jesus H. Christ, you scared the ever loving shit out of me.” Eddie stood and grabbed at one of Steve’s shoulders, shaking him enough to elicit another wince.

“Oh, damn, sorry. I’m like a fucking bull in a china shop here, man. There’s way too much expensive, breakable shit here. I’m not used to it. I accidentally ripped your IV out the other day... Fuck. The nurses hate my guts.” Eddie chuckles, eyes wide and solely on Steve, talking like they were old friends or something.

But that can’t be right. Steve doesn’t remember saying more than two words to Eddie Munson during the entire time he knew he even existed, and even then it was just to discuss weed prices.

“For real though, talk to me Harrington, how you feelin’, hm? Loopy? Gonna yak again? Apparently they got you on the good stuff,” Eddie flicks a liquid filled bag hanging above Steve and shakes his head, “but they keep cutting you back. Dicks.”

Steve’s eyes try and follow Eddie’s erratic movements but his eyes ache the more he moves them. He blinks against the harsh fluorescents and tries to open his mouth. And thank God, Eddie Munson seems to take this as a sign and shut up.

“What happened?” Steve finally croaks.

One of Eddie’s brows jumps. “You don’t remember?”

Steve gives his head a small shake. Did Eddie hit him with his car or something? Is that why he’s sleeping at his bedside and talking to him like they’re buddies?

“You fell, Stevie.” Eddie makes a whistling noise and mimicks something falling with his hands, then makes a crashing sound when his hand lands on Steve’s bandaged head. “Like a coconut out of a tree. Landed right on that big ol’ melon of yours. There was blood everywhere. It scared the shit out of me and the kids. Especially when you wouldn’t wake up.”

Steve’s throat feels like sandpaper, but he manages to swallow, his throat clicking as he did, and gets out, “The kids?”

Eddie seems to notice, even before Steve can ask, and reaches for a water bottle with a straw already in it, and half chewed. Eddie’s own, no doubt. Against his better judgment, Steve accepts it when Eddie offers it to him. He was just so goddamn thirsty.

“Don’t worry, they’re all fine. They were just shaken up. I’ll radio the little gremlins and give ‘em the good news in a sec.” Eddie’s smile falters a little, seeming lost for words. Like he wants to say something, but can’t quite get it out.

Steve finishes swallowing his few, meager gulps of water before he asks, “What is it?”

“Don’t freak out—“ Eddie begins.

And, okay, that’s exactly the thing you tell someone before they freak the fuck out. Steve’s stomach is subject to a growing, sluggish panic. “What? Dude, tell me—“

“It’s your hair.” Eddie seems genuinely pained at having to deliver this crushing of a blow to Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.

Steve can hear the beeping from the monitors he’s hooked up to begin to pick up speed as his heart begins racing. “My hair?”

“It’s okay! It’s okay, it’ll grow back! They just had to take a little bit off where the stitches went, you can hardest notice it—well, that’s a fucking lie, you could spot that landing strip from space—but I think if you part it to the other side it won’t look so… y’know.”

“No, dude, I don’t know.” Steve says, eyes wide, brows pinched.

“Like a drunk toddler took a pair of rusty kitchen shears to your mop.” Eddie says, huffing out a nervous sort of laugh.

Steve groans, half due to the bastardization that’s happened to his favorite feature, and half due to the migraine that’s looming on his horizon.

“You’re still pretty, Stevie, don’t worry.” Eddie grins, eyebrows raised, like he’s trying to be cute or something.

That weirdest part is, it’s kind of working.

Steve must have hit his head really, really hard.

The doctors eventually come in and perform all sorts of tests, and he tries his best to comply with them and jump through whatever hoops they make him jump through. He just wants to get the hell out of this hospital bed.

Unfortunately for him, Steve hadn’t exactly aced any of the tests.

In fact, he had failed most of them pretty fucking dismally. He couldn’t remember the date, who the president was, where he lived, couldn’t say the alphabet backwards… although, who the fuck can do that? He stands by that failing grade.

A couple of CAT scans later and it’s clear that Steve’s brain got smacked around a little more than they had originally thought.

Among a pile of other stuff, the thing that sticks out the most to Steve is his diagnosis of something called short term amnesia. They explain it like the past 2 to 3 years has just been wiped from his brain. The last clear thing he really remembers is getting the shit beat out of him by Billy, and then it all sort of gets jumbled. Fragmented. The doctors explain that this is pretty typical for head trauma patients.

He’s a head trauma patient, now.

It’s normal for memories of trauma to link, creating spiderwebs throughout your brain.

Which, that’s great. So when he gets beat up again, there’s always a chance his brain will try and erase his easy, happy years and revert back to a trauma default. Really helpful brain, thank you.

And the thing that sucks the most is that his years after the Billy beat down sound pretty great. Traumatizing, sure, but great. Once the Upside Down shit was locked up, with every scary nightmare fuel monster inside of it, life in Hawkins didn’t sound all that terrible.

He lived with Robin, who’s his best friend, (his ‘platonic soulmate’ even, as she explains it), he’s working a retail job, (also with Robin), and coaches the high school basketball team during the evenings. He’d even been talking with Hopper about joining the force.

Well, he was. Now he’s more or less useless, working full time at re-learning his life, along with a couple of fine motor skills that got glitchy after the fall.

And then there’s Eddie.

Eddie, who’s apparently also his best friend, only their soulmate link isn’t platonic at all.

The strange and weirdly exciting reality was that Steve Harrington had woken up from his 3-day medically induced coma with not only a full fledged relationship, but a boyfriend.

It’s a lot to digest, and part of him still doesn’t even know how to process it, but hearing the stories being told around him, seeing how Eddie is practically living in his and Robin’s two-bedroom apartment, and just… the way Eddie looks at him?

It’s with love—Steve can see it. Feel it. Eddie’s practically vibrating with it.

What’s even crazier is that when Steve looks at Eddie, he feels the exact same way.

It’s like looking at the stars. Steve’s heart skips a beat when those dark eyes of hit him, and Steve wants nothing more than to make Eddie smile—no, better than that, to make him laugh, just so he can watch Eddie’s adam’s apple bob up and down and hear that manic, unhinged cackle. It’s downright delightful. Steve loves being in relationships like this, where it’s all consuming.

Steve may not have the memories of falling in love with Eddie, but he has all the feelings.

No one talks about it with Steve, of course. Maybe they think it’s going to be too heavy for him to process that he’s into dudes now, but Steve isn’t a big dumb baby. Sure, he’s got a pretty severe brain injury, and yeah, alright, it takes him a minute to remember people’s names sometimes, and he has a harder time controlling his emotions, but he isn’t a complete invalid. Only a little bit of one. He’s working on it, dammit.

And Eddie is so painfully, frustratingly patient with him. He never pushes. He’s clearly letting Steve retrieve his memories before he makes a move, because despite his whole outward appearance, Eddie Munson is a goddamn gentleman. He never so much as reaches for Steve’s hands, but Steve can tell by the way their pinkies graze when they watch movies late at night that he wants to.

Steve can tell by the way Eddie teases him, the way he’s there with him through his recovery, that he doesn’t ever make Steve feel stupid when he asks the same questions over and over again, when he cries at the drop of a hat or when he gets sort of confused about the lay out of his apartment—he doesn’t care about that of that.

Because he’s in love with Steve. It’s so painfully romantic, it brings a painful lump to Steve’s throat every time he thinks too much about it.

The two of them are driving to one of Steve’s therapy sessions, Eddie in the driver's seat, Steve in the passengers, listening to a low racket of some kind of heavy metal music. Eddie always keeps the volume low now, for Steve.

He’s just been so intensely good about everything that Steve needs to try and do something good for Eddie in return. He needs Eddie to know that there’s a light at the end of this tunnel that they’re both currently lost in.

“I’m sorry about this, y’know.” Steve says when they finally pull up the building that has ‘Brain Injury Recover Center’ written on the front. So all the boys and girls with scrambled eggs for brains know where to converge.

“Don’t worry about it, man. I work the evening shifts, remember? My days are free.” Eddie explains, and Steve wonders if he’s had to be told this bit of information a couple of times now. Sometimes it takes a few times before something sticks to his brain now. His short term memory is still majorly flighty. But no, Steve remembers that Eddie bartends at a local bowling alley most evenings. He’s gone a few times. Not to bowl, of course—too much hand eye coordination involved—but just to hang out with Eddie. He’s pretty decent at Ms. Pac-Man though.

Steve shakes his head. He knows his mind must have wandered because there’s been a lull where no one’s spoken. Eddie never seems to care about that though. “I don’t mean about the drive. I was talking about… y’know.”

“Wha’dy’mean?” Eddie mumbles as he backs into his parking space, hand on the back of Steve’s headrest.

Steve sighs and decides to just come out and say it: “I mean having your boyfriend forget everything about you and your relationship. I just… that must be really tough.”

Everything in Eddie Munson comes to a jarring halt, hand frozen over where he’s turned to ignition off.

It’s sort of unnerving—Eddie is always moving, fidgeting. Damn near bouncing off the walls. But now it’s like someone hit the poor guy with a freeze ray gun.

Steve chuckles softly as he reaches out and touches Eddie’s arm, giving him a playful jostle, to loosen him up a little, “it’s okay, Eddie. I know. You don’t have to keep going easy on me. I’m gay! Or, bi-sexual. Whatever.” Steve shrugs, “see? Not falling apart. I can handle being in love with another dude. You don’t need to keep babying me.”

The side of Eddie’s mouth twitches into a downturned smile that he seems to be trying to hide.

“I know, I know. Not just any dude.” Steve rolls his eyes, a smile still firmly on his face. He takes Eddie’s hand from the steering wheel, and Eddie seems to watch it go in a detached sort of awe. Steve wonders if Eddie’s proud of him for being so cool with it all. “In love with you.”

“Steve, I don’t think—

“Wait, just let me finish.” Steve asks, and Eddie blinks and works on closing his mouth. Knows it’s important to let Steve get his thoughts out quickly, lest they be lost to the giant black hole inside of his beat-up brain now. “I know that I don’t remember any of the important stuff with us. Our first date, or our first kiss or, y’know, any of our other first firsts. So maybe it feels like you’re cheating on the old Steve with me? But… Eddie, I know it’s crazy but even though my brain forgot all of the specifics; my heart didn’t. I look at you, and it’s all there. I’m still so into you, dude. I can feel it, even though I don’t remember how I got here. I’m in l—“

“Steve! Stevestevesteve wait, holy shit—!” Eddie’s eyes snap up from his intense stare at the place where their hands are linked. “Steve—”

“Yeah?” Steve prompts when Eddie doesn’t seem to be able to find the words. He runs his thumb gently over Eddie’s knuckles. It feels so nice to finally be able to hold his hand again. They fit together so well, and Steve wonders briefly if it’s some kind of muscle memory.

Eddie opens his mouth a few more times before he remembers how to make the words come out.

“Steve. Buddy. We’re… we’re not dating.”

Steve’s face falls, and he can feel a lump form in his throat, but he keeps a firm hold of Eddie’s warm hand in his own. “Yeah, I know, I know. We haven’t had any time to be a couple. And it’s probably been torture for you, man. You’re so busy taking care of me and making sure I don’t freak out over everything that you’ve clearly been neglecting your own hierarchy of needs.”

Eddie raises a brow.

Steve chuckles, “Shut up. It’s a therapy term.”

Eddie laughs in his throat. “Steve, you gotta slow down and listen to me.”

He turns his shoulders so that he’s fully facing Steve while he reaches his free hand over and tugs at one of his earlobes. “Got your hearing ears on?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he nods just the same.

“We… we weren’t dating before your accident,” Eddie speaks slowly, his voice warm, gentle. “Hell, I didn’t even know you were, y’know, into dudes like that. Much less me.”

Something throbs dully behind Steve’s eyes. It’s the start of a migraine—the one that makes it hard to process much of anything. Steve squints, trying to make sense of what Eddie’s saying. “…you’re not my boyfriend?”

Eddie shakes his head very, very slowly. “No.”

Steve snatches his hand back like he’s only just now noticed how burning hot Eddie’s hand is.

He settles back in his seat, staring out the front window. The sounds from the outside world are muffled, and everything feels far away and sort of… Made up. Just like everything he’d imagined was going on between him and Eddie. Not real.

He feels painfully detached from reality. Unmoored. Maybe this was the disassociation thing the doctor mentioned might happen…

“Are you sure?” Steve asks, risking another glance over to Eddie, who hasn’t taken his eyes off him for a second.

“Pretty fuckin’ sure.” Eddie snorts.

“Oh, God. This is… I’m—sorry. I’m so stupid. Fuck, I gotta—“ Steve suddenly attacks the door handle with a clumsy fury that has his hand fumbling with the handle for way too long. Fucking busted up, bruised as fuck fucking brain-!

“Steve, it’s okay, dude,” Eddie says from behind Steve, but that’s easy for him to say; he didn’t just humiliate himself in front of his not-boyfriend, definitely-crush, possibly ex-friend—“Steve, wait!”

Steve flees the van on unsteady feet, not daring to look back.

[anna-scribbles]

loveybug and catwalker from @blur0se @pisoprano and @asukiess beautiful minds

[imfinereallyy]

Steve finds love in clean sheets.

He comes home on a Wednesday night to his, Robin’s, and Eddie’s apartment, exhausted. They are packed in like sardines in the place; Robin gets a room to herself, having the space to create her own identity. But Eddie and Steve share a room and do so without much complaint.

They both want her happy.

They are friends, so it’s normal to share a room. It’s probably less normal to share a bed—but the space is small and they have so many things, so sharing a full bed is easier than squeezing twins into corners.

Steve doesn’t mind it being so close to Eddie. Thinks he should be worried about that feeling, but finds he isn’t bothered at all.

Their habits rarely butt heads, their organization skills somehow meet in the middle, and Steve doesn’t care how Eddie decorates as long he’s okay with the nail bat placed under the bed.

The only thing that is a problem that really isn’t much of a problem, is the bed sheets. Sometimes, Eddie forgets, so Steve’s taken it upon himself to change them. It’s not that he doesn’t like the smell of Eddie that lingers. It smells of a home he didn’t know he had on a warm summer day.

But after work, especially on hard days, Steve likes to shower and bury himself beneath clean sheets. The cold, smooth texture rubbing against he legs, the fresh linen scent feeling up his nose.

Steve doesn’t think Eddie notices; he is almost positive, and even if he did, he wouldn’t bat an eye. So Steve changes his sheets every five days or so, more often than really necessary.

Until this Wednesday night.

Steve isn’t having a good day—in fact, he would categorize it as one of his worst yet. Work was hell, and nothing was going his way. Steve walks into the apartment to see Robin and Eddie on the couch, and all Steve wants is to shower and crawl into a clean bed.

The problem is, though—the day from hell has actually been the week from hell, and Steve realizes he hasn’t changed his sheets in a week.

Steve groans as he heads towards the shower, ignoring the curious look from his friends. He begrudgingly accepts his fate—a dirty bed in exchange for an early sleep. Steve bangs his head on the bathroom wall.

Steve exits, and moves to his room to throw on boxers and a tshirt he almost sure is Eddie’s.

Then, he lifts the blankets and snuggles inside only to realize—the sheets feel amazing. They feel clean.

Steve glances down at them, realizes they are the flower sheets Eddie hates—replacing the dark grey ones that had been there this morning.

Steve knows undoubtedly that Eddie is the one who changed them. Steve could write it off as Eddie finally remembering a chore, but he can’t lie to his heart.

It knows Eddie did this for him.

Steve lets out a huge sigh of relief as he sinks down into the clean sheets, the smell of linen wafted through the air with hints of Eddie’s cologne from his shirt.

Steve snuggles into the bed—taking Eddie’s pillow instead of his own, and falls asleep to the steady thought that Steve Harrington is in love with Eddie Munson.

It’s the most peaceful sleep he’s ever had.

[starthecozy]

I'm thinking of something silly like Steve telling Eddie in passing that he really liked finding bees when he was a kid and *whisper* how he would have loved to have had a bee themed room back then but his parents refused to give him such soft stuff.

So Eddie makes it his personal mission to give him ALL the bee themed objects he can find. He goes to hidden thrift stores in the city and at first he finds him random things (bee doorknob, bee light switch, a small bee wall clock) and Steve LOVES them but then Eddie finds The Gift: a bee mug.

He buys it and brings it to the trailer as Steve's mug, marking his place in his home. At this point Steve has lots of gifts (half of them homemade by Eddie, he couldn't afford much) but this one marks a change in their relationship.

It's not much later that Steve brings the rest of his stuff (bee themed or not) to the trailer and make it officially his home there. 🐝

[after-the-end-times]

Eddie's Never Been Chill a Day in his Life

For @steddieholidaydrabbles Prompt: Chill 🥶 Rating: G 🥶Words: 793 🥶 cw: none 🥶 Tags: Established Relationship, Corroded Coffin doesn't understand, Eddie has no chill, Eddie Munson loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington loves Eddie Munson

“Oh, will you chill? It's not a big deal”

“Chill? Chill?! Ha!”

Eddie strikes a dramatic pose, one hand on his hip, finger on his lips and, despite the smile spreading across his face, his eyes are wide and angry staring down his friends.

“No, I don't think I will chill! Because I tell you, my best friends, my band, my comrades in arms, that I, Eddie Munson, have finally got myself a boyfriend and you, what? Say I can do better? Tell me you don't like him?!”

Eddie throws his head back laughing.

Gareth looks at Jeff who looks at Freak. They sometimes forget how scary Eddie can be when he turns his dramatics up to 10.

Which means it’s even more creepy in the quiet after Eddie’s laughter cuts off. A car door slams on the other side of the garage door. Jeff’s mom probably getting home from work.

“Dude, we just mean he isn't really- You know.”

“What? He isn't the best thing to happen to me? He isn't the kindest, sweetest, most self sacrificing man that I’ve ever met? Because guess what guys! He is. He's all that and more. He's funny and sarcastic and goofy and so so smart!”

“Eddie, he's a jock! You've always said-”

“And I was wrong! Ok!?” He blows out a harsh breath, continuing calmer “I was wrong and I judged without knowing. So what if he likes sports? He has hobbies and interests. Isn't that a good thing? Or would you rather I be with someone boring? Someone who thinks and acts just like me? So we can just sit there and stare at each other, because we have all the same opinions about everything? 'Cause, actually, I think I like it better this way.”

“Ok, ok we get it. You like him." Gareth huffs out a laugh.

Jeff adds with a chuckle. "Guess even you couldn't resist a pretty face, huh?”

Eddie scoffs. They just don't get it.

“Of course he's breathtaking. But he's all the more beautiful because of who he is inside. Don’t you get it yet? He has a gaggle of children who he loves and would do anything for. He has a best friend who he would literally get tortured for to spare her any hurt. He's even friends with his ex and the guy she cheated on him with! He's just so kind and forgiving, and yes it’s sometimes more than I'd want him to be, but that's- He's just so- I just- I love him.” He looks at them with wide pleading eyes. “Ok, guys? I love him and he's gonna be mine for as long as I can keep him. So, you guys just need to get with it, I guess.”

Eddie runs out of steam after that and crosses his arms protectively across his chest. He's still building his strength back up and he's been gesturing wildly for his whole rant.

The door on the side of the garage opens and Steve steps inside, shivering. The tip of his nose and ears are nipped pink from the cold, his hands are red and slightly trembling; he’s clearly been out there longer than it takes to run from the car to the garage.

“Steve.” Eddie breaths out and walks over to take his hands in his. He cups them and brings them up to his mouth, warming the frozen finger tips with his breath.

Steve’s gaze, so wide and hope filled, has been locked on Eddie since he came in.

“Do you really?” He finally asks, in a low voice just for them.

Eddie flicks his eyes up to meet Steve’s. For a fraction of a second he considers asking what he’s talking about, maybe playing off the moment with a joke, but no. Steve deserves to know. And he wants Steve to know.

“Steve,” He kisses the finger tips at his lips, still so cold, but finally warming. “I love you.”

“Eddie.” Steve’s shaking, though whether it’s still from the cold or from the force of his emotions, Eddie’s not sure. Either way, he suddenly has an armful of a Steve Harrington who is laughing so joyously, like it’s the only way he can release the amount of happiness that has suddenly over taken him. He gasps in a breath. “I love you, too, Eddie. Oh my god, I love you so much.”

Eddie pulls back grinning, he needs to see him right now, needs to see the joy he’s put on Steve’s face just by loving him.

Oh, Steve is glowing.

And in that moment, Eddie knows, without a singular doubt, he’s going to spend the rest of his life making Steve glow with happiness.

And they’re going to have a beautiful life.

~Fin~

[plistommy]

When Steve and Eddie start making out, Steve is the first one to make the move and take charge.

He’d happily kiss Eddie with a soft smile on his face as he’d wrap his arms around the older boy and lay on top of him, making Eddie nervously hold his waist.

But as they get closer, more comfortable, Eddie starts to relax and get the confidence he has lacked. And instead of Steve being the one in charge like he has always been, Eddie takes the charge like he has always wanted to.

And oh does Steve love it.

The way Eddie holds him, kisses him - fucks him and takes care of him while whispering soft praises against his red bitten lips makes Steve happier than ever.

[hxney-lemcn]

imagine getting really homesick and Malleus lets you talk his ear off about your home world. He doesn't mind if he doesn't fully understand what your talking about, he just wishes he could find a way to mend your longing heart. Find a way to bring a piece of your world back to you so you won't be so home sick, and find some time to enjoy this world as well. You had only offhandedly mentioned that you miss your phone, and if that if you had that you would be content. You didn't expect Malleus to spend hours researching complicated magic. Reading about spells that can bring an object to you, to different teleportation spells and all the calculations one needs for it. Then he tried to find anything about different dimensions...but sadly his effort was fruitless. But he had hope, and he needed your help. He invited you to join him, and you almost freaked out when he brought you to a summoning circle, afraid he was going to summon a demon and you be its sacrifice (you knew Malleus would never do such a thing, but you had a grand imagination).

Sitting on opposite sides of the circle, Malleus took your hands in his own, asking you to focus on the object you've been wishing for, and to continue imagining it until he told you to stop. Confused, but trusting the dragon fae, you did as he asked, trying to ignore his chanting, the sudden change in temperature, the electricity that seemed to crackle around you. Suddenly, your phone appeared in a poof of smoke, and no, not the cheap one Crowley gave you. Your old phone from your home world.

You nearly dropped to your knees and proposed to Malleus right then and there. Instead, holding onto what little restraint you had, you instead leaped onto the fae and hugged him so hard no human would survive. Thanking him endlessly, you pulled away, quickly scrambling to turn on your phone, excitedly showing him images you saved that you had always wanted to show him. Your phone may not 100% work, as you had no data, and it wasn't made for this world...you couldn't be more grateful towards Malleus, and he couldn't be happier as you smiled so brightly at him.

(You go to Idia eventually to see if he can work his technological magic and fix your phone)

[silentheiss]

AU, where Luo Binghe meets Shen Yuan under different circumstances. Precisely, when one of his wives comes to him to ask for divorce.

Because she’s kind of in love with Shen Yuan, as it happens.

It goes like this:

Shen Yuan is having a great time being a transmigrator. He had quite a safe landing with being an NPC who’s never been mentioned in the book, so he’s not about to be killed by Luo Binghe anytime soon, and he’s doing great avoiding him.

Until he meets Ban Li. She’s so pretty and feisty she bound to become Luo Binghe’s wife one day, and Shen Yuan doesn’t want to be seen next to her when it happens. He’s not a suicidal idiot, despite what Ban Li says the first time they meet.

“-an utter degenerate! To face a Venomous Flying Spider in your own! What the hell were you thinking?” She yells, after cutting two back legs of the spider in one sharp swing of her sword, rendering beast to a withering, scaly pile. “At least you had a presence of mind to cut the wings first! Idiot!”

Who gives compliments like that? Shen Yuan sighs and positions himself more comfortably on the ground.

“As this one already said, everything was under control.”

“Ha!” Ban Li barks out, her eyes glowing green. Ah, must be a demoness, then. “Under what control? Be thankful for this one’s grace or your legs will be cut off!”

Shen Yuan laughs and offers Ban Li some sweets he always carries in his pouch. Things go smoothly after that — Ban Li accompanies him for next week, claiming she has a task of exterminating beasts in the area.

“Husband will want a report soon, but this one has time to spare.” Ban Li mentions one day.

“Ban Li is married?” Shen Yuan freezes. “Isn’t it inappropriate to- I mean for us, to. Uh.”

“This one was unaware Shen Yuan was courting.” Ban Li giggles, twirling a lock of her hair around her thin finger.

“I’m not!”

Ban Li laughs and leans closer to Shen Yuan, eyes glimmering.

“If you were,” She says, low and intimate. “I would agree. I would leave my absent husband and runaway with you.”

Ah. Now Shen Yuan sees how it is. Ban Li is not infatuated with him. She’s just-

“Ban Li, are you unhappy in your marriage?” He asks, heart breaking for this feisty, sweet demoness.

“Will Shen Yuan make it better?” Ban Li asks pitifully. Shen Yuan nods.

He will talk to that good-for-nothing husband of her and make him let Ban Li go. She’s promised to Luo Binghe, anyway, for plot purposes. He’ll just help smooth the process.

Several days later Ban Li takes Shen Yuan to a camp. It’s big, obviously expensive, and Ban Li looks almost shaky as they near the biggest, most impressive tent.

“Ban Li’s husband is… powerful.” Shen Yuan notes.

“He is.” Ban Li nods. “But this one doesn’t need his power.”

“Of course you don’t.” Shen Yuan nods. “We’ll make him see sense.”

Ban Li smiles at him, teeth sharp and eyes sharper.

“Shen Yuan is confident even in the face of the Emperor.”

Shen Yuan freezes.

“Ban Li.” He says, very quietly and very slowly. “Are you married to Luo Binghe?”

“Not for long!” Ban Li answers brightly.

Oh shit. Oh fuck.

“Ban Li.” Shen Yuan groans. “What the hell? Why on earth would you want to divorce Luo Binghe?”

“To stay at Shen Yuan’s side.” Ban Li says.

“Have you gone mad?” Shen Yuan demands. “Are you completely, utterly crazy? Who in their right mind would want to leave Luo Binghe to stay with me?!”

“Shen Yuan!” Ban Li whines. “You promised!”

“I didn’t know you were going to divorce the best person in the whole universe!”

Ban Li gasps at him.

“Do you want to marry Lord Luo?”

“No!” Shen Yuan says. “I’m a man, Ban Li.”

“So what?”

Shen Yuan feels like he’s going grey from the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.

“Ban Li, we’re losing a thread of the conversations here.” He says. “You cannot divorce Luo Binghe.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s stupid! Have you seen him? He’s the smartest, strongest, bravest man ever. He’s extremely good looking. He’s lived through hell and persisted. He’s amazing, Ban Li! You can’t leave him to stay with me, are you kidding? I thought you were smart!”

Ban Li pouts at him, folding her arms like a petulant child.

“If Shen Yuan is in love with Lord Husband-”

“I’m not!”

“No? Then why are you praising him so?”

“Because I have common sense?”

“I don’t want to get back to harem while Shen Yuan is risking his life fighting dangerous beasts!”

“Ban Li, I’m begging you.” Shen Yuan says. “You will regret your decision.”

“I will regret not seeing Shen Yuan anymore.”

“Nonsense!”

“I will run away.”

“Ban Li.”

“Try me. I will.”

Shen Yuan sighs, hiding his face in his hands. He’s so going to die today.

“Do you suppose your Lord Husband might need a librarian?”

Ban Li squeals and drags Shen Yuan into the tent.

Luo Binghe, who’s been silently listening to the whole conversation, hires him immediately. He doesn’t claim to know Ban Li well, but they definitely agree on one thing: Shen Yuan mustn’t ever leave.

[ikiprian]

Clark is taking Kon and Jon out for a classic, super-style bonding flight. Just a quick jaunt around the US and back!

They don’t get far. Somewhere in Illinois airpace, they run across another family.

The three (a hulking man, a snarky teenage boy, and a cackling youngest girl, each a grayscale blur in the blue, blue sky) throw neon-lit beams of energy at one another, quips and insults flying almost as fast as they do. It looks like training. It looks like fun!

The boy of them looks like a younger version of the man. Exactly like, even. Clark is familiar with clones.

The youngest, a girl, looks like both of them, but not quite. Perhaps she will, age sharpening her childish features, but it’s hard to say. More likely, she’s the man’s daughter.

Interested, Clark introduces himself to Dan. He seems to be a hero in his own right, even if Superman’s yet to see him in action. And it’s not often Clark sees a family so like his own!

[fazedlight]

“You didn’t jump,” Kara said.

Lena glanced up from her lo mein container, chopsticks in hand. “Jump?” Lena asked curiously.

Kara nibbled her lip thoughtfully, staring down at her potstickers. The evening had been a quiet one - a welcomed change of pace, after a wonderful and chaotic afternoon at Alex and Kelly’s wedding. When all was said and done - after the couple had left for their honeymoon and the party had quieted, after Eliza had taken Esme home for a fun week making chocolate chip cookies with her grandmother - Kara and Lena had found themselves in Kara’s apartment, settling down in their pajamas with a dinner of Chinese takeout.

“For Kelly’s bouquet,” Kara said. “You didn’t jump.”

Lena shrugged, digging into her food with her chopsticks again. “It wasn’t heading towards me.”

“You could’ve used magic,” Kara suggested, thinking of how a certain other super had used her powers to yank the flowers midair.

“And start a duel with Nia?” Lena grinned. “Seemed unwise. Besides, she has a likely candidate.”

Kara smiled. 

“At least I was there,” Lena teased softly. “I didn’t see you in the crowd.”

Kara shrugged. “It’s a human tradition.” 

Lena tilted her head. “What did Krypton have?”

Kara grimaced. “Genetic testing. AI matching. Rules about guild marriages,” she said, “My uncle destroyed the AI, at least. But romance was secondary on Krypton.”

“What about now? On Argo?”

“Romantic love is… still an alien concept, on Argo,” Kara said thoughtfully, popping another potsticker in her mouth. “It existed in some of our stories. But our upbringing, our culture- we had to squash a lot of that down.”

“And now?”

“Now it’s like…” Kara’s voice had lowered to a murmur, and Lena noticed a pink tint rising in her cheeks. Kara cleared her throat, staring into her food. “Now it’s like they’re marrying a close friend,” she continued. “I wouldn’t say they have romance like Earth does.”

“Like marrying a friend,” Lena mulled.

Kara quietly picked at her food.

“And what about you?” Lena said, partially curious, partially… well. She knew Kara could hear how her heart had started pounding, as much as she wished she could hide it.

“Me?”

“You grew up there. But you’ve been here for so long. Where do you fall?”

Kara’s brow crinkled. “I think I…like all the little things,” she murmured. “Giving flowers and chocolate. Kissing. Holding hands.”

“But?”

“Not a but,” Kara said as she glanced up - still avoiding Lena’s eyes, but looking thoughtfully ahead. “It feels so alien to me, but in this wonderful way. Exhilarating. Strange. I feel like I have this chimeric type of romance in my head - not Earthian, not Kryptonian. Like romance is…”

Kara grew quiet, turning her head to her food again, staring silently as the blush on her cheeks seemed to deepen. 

Lena watched for a moment, taking in the unmoving kryptonian - the hint of tightness in her posture, the unusual muteness and stillness. “What is romance for you, Kara?” Lena whispered.

Kara slowly tilted her gaze up to meet Lena’s. “My perfect partner at a game night,” she confessed quietly. “Knowing someone so well that it feels like magic when we’re together.”

Lena let out the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.

Kara nibbled nervously at her lip. “You- you don’t have to see it that way,” Kara said, her voice cracking. “It’s not- it doesn’t have to change anything. But I’ll understand if it’s too much…”

“I feel it too,” Lena whispered. “When I’m with you. It always feels like magic.”

“Really?” Kara said. “You could want- you-”

“I didn’t want to catch the bouquet unless it was for you,” Lena confessed. “I just- all I want is to be with you.”

Kara smiled wide, and Lena watched on as the tension seemed to melt away from the still-blushing kryptonian’s frame. “I love you, Lena.”

Lena smiled back. “I love you too.”

[hairmetal666]

Steve parks at Eddie's, a plastic wrapped bouquet of roses so purple they're almost black carefully buckled into the passenger seat, and a nervous twist to his stomach. He didn't plan to do this. It's just, he was agonizing about his crush to Robin and she goaded him until it seemed like a great fucking idea to ask Eddie out on Valentine's Day, of all days.

The flowers were an accident. He saw them in the front window of the little flower shop in town, and it felt like fate, like they were practically made for Eddie Munson.

With a deep breath and a gritted teeth, he swings out of the car, flowers in hand. He's doing this, he's got this, he can ask Eddie out.

Music rocks from the trailer, drowning out Steve's knock. They didn't exactly have plans tonight, only they hangout every night since Vecna, so he figured...well, Eddie never said they weren't getting together.

He's a little miffed when his knock isn't answered. Even when the music is up, the walls of the trailer vibrating, Eddie always comes to the door. But the minutes tick by with no response until the annoyance turns to anxiety.

He stretches over, up on tiptoe, craning through the window to see if he can spot Eddie, probably distracted by planning for dnd or working on a song.

The kitchen is deserted, pots steaming on the stove. The two-seater table is covered in one of those paper tablecloths they have at Melvald's for a buck, patterned with bright red hearts. The table is set, two plates, two beers, a candle burning in the center of it all.

God, he's stupid. So stupid, with his nearly black flowers and his silly crush. Of course Eddie already had someone to spend Valentine's Day with.

He stumbles down the stairs, stomach fighting up his throat. The loud music makes so much sense now. He has to leave. He can't stand the thought of Eddie finding him here, letting him down easy; can stand even less seeing him with the date he has over.

Steve almost makes it back to the car before he hears the screen door slam, Eddie's voice calling his name. For a second, he considers ignoring him; for a second, he thinks about jumping in the car and driving off and forgetting this ever happened. But he could never do that to Eddie, not even when the consequence is his own heart.

"Oh, uh. Hey, man," Steve says. He runs his fingers through his hair, swallows. "Didn't mean to interrupt, thought we had plans but I guess they weren't set in stone." He's rambling and he knows it, but can't stop. "I didn't realize you--I'll get out of your hair."

Eddie's eyes flicker from Steve to the flowers clutched in his fist, the wrapping now sweaty and rumpled. "Are those for me?" Eddie asks.

Steve's mouth open and closes a few times, thrown off the track of his monologue and trying to think of a plausible lie. "I--they're--it's--"

There's nothing for it. He has to tell the truth and eat the humiliation. "I saw them today and--They're perfect for you. So, I wanted--" he shakes his head, shoves the bouquet into Eddie's arms. "Happy Valentine's Day. I'll let you get back to your date."

Eddie's face scrunches and it would be cute except for all the way Steve's heart is breaking. "Aren't you my date?"

"What?"

"Steve. We hang out every night. I thought--"

"But. For me--" He splutters. "The table?"

"Harrington, it's Valentine's Day! You bought me flowers!"

"Yeah, cause I was going to ask you out!"

This is what breaks Eddie, and he bursts out into helpless giggles.

"Don't laugh at me, Munson." But he's starting to laugh too.

"I'm sorry! I just--you," and Eddie isn't laughing anymore, he's looking at Steve with clear, shining eyes. "You brought me flowers."

Steve sobers too, hands over the bouquet. "I brought you flowers. You made me dinner."

"Yeah." He glances up at Steve from under his eyelashes. "I made you dinner."

"Sorry for--" He gestures broadly around himself.

Eddie shakes his head, soft smile on his lips. "You're something else, Stevie." The words are so fond they make Steve's heart flip. "Now, come inside before the food gets cold."

Steve walks to do the door, pausing before he climbs the stairs.

"What is it?" Eddie's eyebrows lift.

"Nothing. Just--" Steve licks his lips, notices the way Eddie tracks the movement. "I'm really falling for you, is all."

"No duh," Eddie says with a broad, smitten grin. "You bought me flowers."

[tachvintlogic]

Humans are Weird: Offloading tasks to Bacteria

Alien A: So your waste has bacteria in it.

Human: Yes.

Alien A: Inherently.

Human: Yes.

Alien A: Why?

Human: Because I have bacteria in my gut.

Alien A: And you're not sick?

Human: No, they're supposed to be there. They help digest tough materials we can't break down ourselves.

Alien A: You don't just do that yourself?

Human: No, we just let them do it for us. Most vertebrates on Earth have them, or at least I don't know if any don't. They already know how to digest that stuff, so why not let them help out?

Alien A: But what if they make you sick?

Human: It's fine as long as they're not somewhere they're not supposed to be. Do you not have helpful organisms living in you?

Alien A: No! That's weird.

Alien B: What's weird?

Alien A: Offloading digestion to bacteria.

Human: No it's not. They're perfectly suited for it.

Alien B: And for getting rid of bad bacteria.

Human: You have them too?

Alien B: Yeah, but not for digestion. To guard against parasites. They're the parasites of parasites.

Human: They kinda help with invaders in the gut, but that's mostly the immune system's job. Do you have an immune system? Besides the bacteria.

Alien B: No, not really.

Alien A: What!?

Human: Really? So if you don't have anything to reign them in?

Alien B: They govern themselves. It works alright.

Human: But if they stop doing their job right, you're fucked.

Alien B: And if your immune system stops doing its job, you're fucked.

Human: Touché.

Alien C: ...I'm confused.

Alien B: By what?

Alien C: These bacteria. You're talking about them like they're separate from you.

Human: Well, yeah they are separate from me.

Alien C: But they're living things that live in your body.

Alien B: I don't get what's confusing.

Alien A: Because they're parasites you haven't realized are parasites.

Alien C: No. It's... how are you distinguishing between yourself and these bacteria? How do you define yourself in a way that excludes them?

Human: They come from outside?

Alien B: Wait, you're not born with yours?

Human: No, we just kind of pick them up as we go along.

Alien B: Oh, my species doesn't do that. That would be far too risky.

Human: Yeah, you'd probably need a lot more control over what your bacteria ecosystem looks like.

Alien C: But how are they separate from you you?

Human: Well, all the cells that make up me all originate from a single stem cell with the instructions to make me—you guys use DNA right?

Alien B: We use nucleotides but different ones.

Alien A: My translator is telling me that you code your instructions in a way that is exclusive to certain single-celled organisms on my planet.

Alien C: I use DNA.

Humans: Okay, good. So my cells have my DNA and the bacteria ecosystem is all different species of bacteria with their own DNA and lineages that aren't affiliated with my origin cell, so they're separate from me.

Alien B: Yeah, that's basically how it is.

Alien C: So, you don't start as a collection of cells, all with their own DNA and DNA lineages that specialize into different systems with different jobs?

Human: Wait, so you're a colony of a bunch of organisms that become your organ systems?

Alien C: By your definition of "organism," yes.

Alien A: Okay, but can we all agree that the fact human waste needs to be sterilized is weird?

Human: No.

Alien B: Yes.

Alien C: Actually... My equivalent to a stomach reproduces on its own in addition to reproducing with the rest of me, so you will need to sterilize the spores in my poop.

Human: Woah, that's so cool!

Alien A: I'm just going to sterilize everyone's waste just in case.

[psyscha]

Part 2 of my LBM Jason piece, where complex feelings are had.

Part 1

The fic!

[lurkinginnernarrator]

“Shen Qingqiu! What is this nonsense about Qing Jing requisitioning a disguise for one of its members?! You would dare send one of your little disciples trussed up like a pretty young mistress! Even I thought you better than”–

Qi Qingqi’s voice cut off on an extremely strangled note. She and the other Peak Lords all seemed unable to capture an ounce of oxygen.

Cang Qiong’s finest were gathered in a elegant war room, massive tables shoved to the side, covered with maps and intelligence reports: A mind-numbing amount of information scattered across sheaves of paper and neatly written on large boards; they spanned the walls not open to the serene nature of Qing Jing’s outdoors.

The murmuring of focused and purposeful Qing Jing disciples hushed at Qi Qingqi’s outraged exclamation and the sudden appearance of a majority of their shibo.

In the midst of the room, Shen Qingqiu stood, hands frozen in the action of sheathing a dagger to his inner thigh. While normally, such a sight would be arresting enough, it paled in comparison to the vision Qing Jing’s Lord made currently.

His eyes caught wide and surprised were rimmed with coal and rouge, claret lips parted infinitesimally. Gentle strands of hair framed his face and cascaded down his curved back. Hair ornaments tinkled and glittered in the silken black waves.

Delicate, airy robes flirted with graceful wrists, red lacquered nails making a pleasing contrast. Carmine and the tones of blushing rose danced about Shen Qingqiu, gentle fabric draping from his shapely frame; soft skin of his collarbones an–and the rounded mound of his, hi-his bust? Exposed. As was the refined line of sinewy thigh.

S-sshink!

Shen Qingqiu’s hand leaves the handle of the blade, nebulous skirts falling back into place, his pale thighs veiled from sight once more.

“Qi-shimei, Liu-shidi, Zhangmen-shixiong?”– Shen Qingqiu's eyes quickly take in the numerous uninvited visitors, yet his lilting voice doesn’t quicken from its whiplike cadence –”To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from Yue-shixiong and my shidimen?”

For some unknowable reason, Sect Master Yue and the Bai Zhan War God forsook courtesy for silence.

“Rather, to what does this Master owe my beloved sect siblings appearance,” the polished voice drawled, “ whose purpose is no doubt to meddle in the affairs of a Qing Jing operation? Without, may I add, any proper knowledge of the purpose of this operation to begin with?”

Mu Qingfang, who to this point was standing unobtrusively to the side, stepped forward, courteously greeting the Maste– Lady? Of Qing Jing.

His fellow peak lords prayed blessings, to be gifted such a level headed martial brother!

“These shidi apologize for the discourtesy, Shen-shixiong.” Mu Qingfang’s voice may have hesitated, or stuttered, and almost uttered ‘shijie’ but no one noticed because they were too caught up in their own lawless thoughts.

A Qing Jing disciple helpfully handed Shen Qinqqiu a fan. With a crack! It met his open palm, a gavel descrying doom.

Haloed in light, the Qing Jing Master stood like a wrathful goddess, a holy judge tired of the sullying presence of mortals.

Qing Jing’s Master, when garbed in his usual attire, was a sharp, intimidating figure. Graceful in his execution of masculinity, not unlike a dagger. Moreso, then, donning the mantle of femininity. Some intangible attributes changed, that when masculine, repelled, yet when feminine compelled. Those certain peak lords were unprepared to handle such a thing.

Shen Qingqiu tsked, turning his back he subsequently ignored them after hand-waving a disciple into acting as the hospitality.

The wrong-footed peak lords were bundled off to the side and laden with tea and light victuals, being appeased into silence and unobtrusiveness by snacks. If some of the scholarly disciples secretly thought of it as the kiddie table, that's for them to know, isn’t it?

[starry-bi-sky]

Unpleasant Revelations - DPxDC Ficlet Idea for the Stillborn Au

"Have you met my youngest, Damian, Mr. Masters?"

Its only from twenty years of long, hard experience and practice that Vlad doesn't increase the room temperature from 'borderline uncomfortably cool' to 'unbearably hot' the moment Bruce Wayne pulls his youngest and "only" biological son out in front of him.

He puts only in quotations because twelve year old Damian Wayne looks scarily, uncannily like one Daniel Brown. Jack and Maddie's foster son, second victim of their foolishness, and only other halfa in existence. Second only to him.

It's nauseating how similar they look. From the scowl and terrible glare on the young boy's face, to his brown skin -- which was only a few shades lighter than Daniel's, the shape of his nose, and even the strange winged edge of his eyebrow. Something that Vlad has long since come to find endearing on the child he considered a son of his own. The only difference was that Damian had dark, sharp green eyes.

Daniel's eyes were blue. The same glacier shade as his father's, who stood behind Damian with a proud, oafish smile on his visage.

It was infuriating how similar they look. Vlad might not have rapidly swung the room temperature from one extreme to the other, but he can't stop himself from letting the fury burning within his core from slipping out and raising the temperature up a few degrees.

Because it really only meant one thing.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were related.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were brothers.

Standing in front of him, it was clear as day. He can already picture a phantom image of Daniel standing beside Damian, the same scowl written on his face, the same glare carved into his eyes. The only difference being the dark, exhausted circles beneath them that seemed to be permanently painted onto his skin. The only thing missing being the permanent loneliness and vigilance permeating his being like a scar.

This, if revealed, would be enough to ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation. Or, at the very least, darken it quite a bit. The great philanthropist Bruce Wayne with another secret blood child? One related to his youngest? One that had been put into foster care? Seemingly thrown away?

It would be a firestorm.

One that Vlad is not keen on starting.

It would ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation, yes. But it would hurt Daniel in the process -- the harassment he would face alone might just be enough to break that fragile child completely. That was just not something he could allow. Or, even worse, bring him into his biological father's care and custody -- something Vlad was even less willing to allow.

It's not out of kindness to Wayne that Vlad will keep mum about this.

His grip on his champagne flute tightens, just a bit. He's still aware enough of the world around him to not let it shatter in his hands. His plastered, pleasant smile tightens around the corners, and he forces his focus to slide from Damian to Wayne.

"The resemblance is uncanny, Mister Wayne." He says, slanting his smile to the side slyly. Although he's not talking about the resemblance between Wayne and his son. Rage simmers beneath his skin, burning coal and embers in the core of his chest, nestled between his lungs, as he meets the man's eyes.

Wayne swaggles his head proudly, his ditzy smile widening as he squeezes his son's shoulder affectionately. Bastard, Vlad wants to spit.

He breathes in through his nose, and exhales out through his mouth. The champagne in his hand cools, and stops its unusual bubbling.

The Damian boy scoffs under his breath, his mouth still coiled upward into a scowl. With the revelation of his blood relation to Daniel evident, Vlad's not sure if he should find it endearing or not.

He is not Daniel, so he decides that it's just simply irritating. He decides to ignore it.

"And you said he was your only biological son?" He asks, voice lilting and head tilting. He knows its a suspicious question at worst, insulting at best. But considering Wayne's past proclivities, he can hardly call it an unexpected question.

Damian puffs in great offense, face twisting angrily. It reminds him of Daniel when Vlad insisted that he was wrong about something or other, and for a moment his heart swells, fond.

But this is not his child, and so the feeling quickly crashes and burns, simmering back into rage. This was not Daniel -- this was his replacement. A replacement that Wayne was free to keep.

Wayne chuckles, idiotically, as if he'd said some funny joke. Vlad's other hand, the one gripping his cane -- something he's required ever since he was dispatched from the hospital all those lonely years ago -- tightens instead. He grinds his teeth -- him and Jack Fenton would get along like a house on fire, he hates it.

"I can understand why you'd ask that, Mister Masters," Wayne says, squeezing Damian's shoulder again, "but yes, Damian is my only biological son. Although that doesn't mean I don't love my other children any less."

Bastard.

For all his posturing and flouncing about caring for his city and his children, Vlad never would have thought the Prince of Gotham capable of abandoning one of them.

But, well.

They all have their dark secrets.

And what one man throws away, another man picks up. If Bruce Wayne didn't want the treasure child that was Daniel Brown, then Vlad Masters was more than happy to take him instead.

"I see."